John Thornton had frozen his feet in December, and while they healed, Buck lay by the river and slowly grew strong again. For the first time in his life he knew love, real, burning love. Thornton talked to him like a friend, took his head roughly between his hands and called him terrible names, which Buck understood as words of love. Skeet and Nig, Thornton's two dogs, became his friends too. Once Thornton fell into the rapids, and Buck swam through the terrible water and brought him to the shore. That winter in Dawson a rich man boasted that his dog could start a sled with five hundred pounds. Thornton said that Buck could start a thousand. The bet was made, and Thornton had only a small part of the money. Buck threw his whole weight into the harness. The sled moved, then went on and on, a hundred yards to the end. Thornton fell on his knees beside Buck, and the men stepped back and left them alone.