“Look!” said Ski, the Eskimo boy, as he pulled the Plush Bear out from under his fur coat and set the toy down on a shelf of ice in the igloo, where the rays from the oil lamp fell upon it.  “See what I have!” and his father and mother and his brothers and sisters leaned forward to look at the strange object.

There was not much room in the igloo, and the Eskimo family was rather crowded.  But they did not mind this, as it was much warmer than if they had lived in a big room.  In fact, except in the center, one could not stand up in the igloo.  The roof was too low.

“Where did you get that?” asked Ski’s father, as he looked at the Plush Bear.

“He was in the big igloo, far over the snow, near the big ice mountain,” answered the Eskimo boy.  “I saw him through a window, and I wanted him.  When all in the igloo were asleep I breathed on the ice pane, opened the window, and took this Bear.  Now he is mine!”

“Yes, I know that big igloo,” said Ski’s father.  “There was none like it where we came from.  I do not know what it is.”

Ski’s family had just moved to North Pole Land, and they had never heard of Santa Claus, though the other Eskimos of this country were well acquainted with Saint Nicholas.  To Ski and his family the workshop of Santa Claus was just a big “igloo.”

“Is not this Bear nice?” asked Ski, of his brothers and sisters.

“But he is not like the bears here,” said Kiki, one of the Eskimo girls.  “He is brown, like the seals.  The North Bears are white.”

“There was a white Bear in the big igloo, but I would rather have this one,” said Ski.  “I will always keep him.”

During this time the Plush Bear, of course, had not dared to say a word or move by himself.  He was being watched too closely.  But he could hear what was said, and he wondered what was going to happen to him.

“I shall be dreadfully lonesome if I have to stay here,” thought the Plush Bear.  “There is not another toy in the whole place!”

There was another toy, but the Plush Bear did not know it.  This toy was a rudely carved Wooden Doll, owned by Kiki.  She had wrapped this Wooden Doll in a bit of sealskin and put it in her bed to keep it warm.  For to Kiki the piece of wood, which looked something like a Doll, was as much alive as your Doll is to you girls.

“That is a wonderful thing, Ski,” said the Eskimo boy’s father.  “Never have I seen such a thing in all my life!”

Ski’s father leaned forward and touched the Plush Bear.  And he happened to touch the very spring that set the toy animal in motion.  For the Plush Bear was all wound up when Ski reached through the window and took him, and all that was needed was a touch to send him off.

Immediately the Plush Bear began to move his head from side to side, growls came out of his red mouth, and his paws waved to and fro.  He behaved almost like a small, live bear.