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You see he did not know, never having seen such a toy before, and never having heard of machinery Ski's father did not know what a delightful toy the Plush Bear was. All he thought of was bad luck and magic. Quickly Ski's father hitched his team of dogs to the long, low wooden sled. Crack! went the long whip over their heads, but the Eskimo man did not let the lash fall on the animals.
"Wow!" cried Ski, leaping back when he saw the Plush Bear beginning to move. "Wow!" cried Ski's father, mother and sisters and brothers, and they, too, leaped back. "Gurr-r-r-r! Gurr-r-r-r!" growled the Plush Bear, and he moved his paws and head faster than ever. He was not doing this himself, you understand. He was not making believe come to life.
He guided his dog team up under the very window out of which Ski had taken the bear, for the man could see Ski's footprints in the snow. "There! Now I am done with you!" whispered Ski's father, as he dropped the Plush Bear in the snow and turned his dog team around to go back to his igloo.
"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.
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.
He was only doing as all the other spring toys do moving when the wheels within him moved. "Wow!" cried Ski's father again. "This is magic! This bear is bewitched! It will bring us bad luck! It must not stay in my igloo!" "Oh, please let me keep it!" begged Ski, as his father caught up the Plush Bear. "No! No! It would be dangerous! It would bring us bad luck!
Over the snow and ice they drew the sled, on which Ski's father sat well wrapped in fur blankets. Nearer they came to the workshop of Santa Claus the "big igloo" as Ski had called it. "I will leave the magic bear that moves beneath one of the windows," murmured Ski's father. "Then will the bad luck pass from us."
"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.
So, though Ski begged his father to be allowed to keep the toy, the Eskimo man thrust the bear under his fur coat and crawled out of the igloo into the glow of the Northern Lights. "I must take it back to the big igloo," murmured Ski's father. "Then will the bad magic pass away."
There is a witch in that bear!" murmured Ski's mother. "Never have I seen such a thing!" went on Ski's father in awe and wonder. "We must not keep it! If we allowed it to stay in this igloo we should freeze, I should never catch any seals, and our blubber fat would become so hard we could not eat it. I must take this magic bear that moves back to the big igloo!"
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