Santa and the Ice King

In northern lands near the top of the world, Christmas comes in the wintertime.

In southern lands near the bottom of the world it is different. There Christmas comes in summer.

In June, July and August, northern children swim and picnic and walk barefoot in the woods. But during these very same months southern hemisphere children ride sleds and skate and wear gloves every day. For these children summer doesn’t come until December and Christmas itself often comes on the hottest day of the year.

There is, of course, a scientific explanation for this strange state of affairs and you have probably heard this explanation and accepted it as, very properly, you should.

But some folk say there is another reason, not at all scientific, why December comes in summer near the south pole while at the same time coming in the winter at the north pole. If you can believe these folk it is all because of Santa Claus and Oonik, the Eskimo boy, and the way the two of them long ago tamed the ice king of the north.

Here is the story they tell:

Once upon a time, in a far away northern land, there lived a little Eskimo boy named Oonik. He lived with his family in an Igloo on the edge of the Arctic sea.

Nearby there were eight other igloos where other families lived. Together they formed an Eskimo village.

The Eskimos were hunters. In the winter they hunted seal and walrus and polar bear. In the summer, when their snow houses melted and grass covered the land they hunted reindeer and rabbit and birds.

One year it seemed that the winter was colder than anyone could ever remember. The icy winds blew all the time and the snow drifted high over the village. Sometimes, when Oonik and his father returned home from hunting they had trouble finding the door to their own home because it was buried in new fallen snow.

And sometimes the cold was so intense that all the villagers stayed in their snow houses for weeks at a time.

The worst part of it was that the hunting was poor for even the seal and the polar bear did not wish to come out in such weather. So food ran low in village and Oonik was often lucky to have even one hunk of frozen seal blubber as his only meal of the day.

One day as the family sat together in the igloo Oonik’s father said, “The days are beginning to be longer than the nights and the spring moon shines in the sky. That means winter is over and soon the ice will melt, birds will fly and flowers will grow.”

“And we will trail reindeer in the hills!” cried Oonik rolling over and throwing his arms around his dog, Keotuk.

“I can hardly wait,” said his sister Popik. “Oh, it will be good to live in our summer tents and hunt for bird eggs in the grass!”

“And we will be warm again!” cried their mother. “Oh, I will be glad when this miserable winter is gone!”

But weeks went by and May came and June and even July passed by and still the icy winds blew and the snow piled higher and even the hunters’ sleds froze to the ice and it was a job to the move them at all.

Then the Eskimos were truly frightened. They went to the igloo of Miski, the wise man of the village.

“What has happened?” they cried. “Why has summer not come?”

Old Miski sucked in his ancient checks and stared at the ground. Then he said, “The ice king of the north is very angry. To placate him we must have a festival in hi honor. Then the icy winds will stop and summer will come to Eskimo land.”

“The Ice King of the north is very angry,” said Miski, the wise man of the Eskimo village. “He sends frigid winds and storms of snow even though it is August and the ice on the sea should long since have melted.

“To placate the Ice King we must have a festival in his honor. Then he will surely put aside his anger and we will be able to do our summer hunting for reindeer and rabbits and duck.”

“Hooray!” cried Oonik, the Eskimo boy. “I love festivals! Dancing! And singing! And eating! Oh, that will be good!”

But Oonik’s mother said. “How can we have a festival? Hunting has been so poor there is scarcely any food left in the village. In my house we are down to our last seal flipper.”

“It is the same with us,” moaned the other women. “Our storerooms are nearly empty.”

Oonik’s father said, “Can we not have a festival without food?”

Miski shook his head. “The Ice King would be insulted if we had a festival in his honor and had no food. If we did not care to bring out our foods in his honor perhaps he would not care to stop the winter winds.”

Then the men said, “Very well. We will do it, for the winter storms must end.”

So the Eskimos returned to their igloos. The women melted snow and put their last hunks of meat in the water to stew. The men made flat drums out of wooden hoops covered with the thin inner tissues of seals.

When all was ready the villagers returned to the igloo of Miski, the wise man. They all sat on the floor of the snow house and Miski stood in their middle and sang a song to the Ice King.

He asked the Ice King to get over his anger and bring the Eskimos good weather so they could have good hunting again.

Then Miski sat down and the men began to beat on their drums with sticks made of ivory walrus tusks.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Then the Eskimos sang. First they sang in a soft chant keeping time to the drum beat. Presently their voices rose and their singing became louder than the wind roaring around the igloo. Oonik anxious to please the Ice King, sang louder than all the rest.”

The dancing started. All the men and boys stood in their places and stamped on the floor and moved their arms up and down in curious patterns meant to placate the Ice King.

After that the food was served. Oonik took half his share outside to his dog Keotuk who crouched at the door

“Don’t worry” said Oonik soothingly to his dog. “This has been a festival such as I have never seen. It is bound to have pleased the Ice King and tomorrow good weather will come and we will have good hunting again.”

But, alas! On that very night came a storm worse than any that had come before. The furious wind swept sheets of ice from the north and hurled them on the tiny Eskimo village. Three igloos were smashed by the tons of ice and the poor owners had to move in with neighbors. A mountain of ice pushed out of the sea and towered over the village.

“The Ice King did not hear us, there is nothing more we can do,” Miski told the terrified Eskimos who gathered in his igloo after the storm.

Oonik went out in the cold. He fell to his knees in the snow and pressed his mouth against the ear of Keotuk, the dog.

“Listen to me, Keotuk,” he murmured. “I have a plan!”

Keotuk wagged his tail and licked his master’s chin as if to say. “I’ll do anything you say!”

“Come, then,” said Oonik, jumping to his feet. “You and I are going to Santa Land!”

With Keotuk at his heels Oonik ran home. He found his sled frozen to the side of the Igloo. With his snow knife he cut it free. The sled was made of bone and pieces of driftwood, with reindeer antlers as a handle. It was small but sturdy.

He harnessed Keotuk and tied his snow saw and seal spear on to the sled. Then he returned to the wise man’s Igloo where all the Eskimos of the village were gathered.

“Father,” said Oonik, touching his father’s arm. “Is it true that on the far side of the Arctic sea is Santa Land?’

His father nodded. “So I have always heard.”

“Then,” said Oonik, “I am going there.”

“What are you saying?” cried his father in astonishment.

“Santa Claus is very powerful.” said Oonik. “He knows when I have been good and when I have been bad. He knows what to bring me for Christmas. He always comes every Christmas Eve no matter how stormy the weather.”

“So?” said his father.

“So,” said Oonik, “if Santa can do all these things he can surely cure the Ice King of his rage. I will go and ask his help.”

“Son,” said the father, “you could never get to Santa Land. It is too far and the storms come too fast and too often. You would die.”

“If I stay here we all will die,” replied Oonik. “Please, father. My sled is fast and Keotuk is the best dog in the village.”

Miski, the wise man, put his hand on Oonik’s shoulder. “You are brave and wise,” he murmured. He turned to the father. “Let him go,” he said. “It is our only chance.”

Oonik’s father saw that this was so. “Go then.” he said, sadly. “Perhaps your small weight and fast sled will help you make it where no one else could.”

Oonik ran out to his sled. “Go, Keotuk!” he cried.

Slipping and falling, Keotuk slowly hauled the sled up the ice mountain and down to the frozen sea. It would be hard to say how many days Oonik traveled. Since it was a summer month (despite the cold) there was no night for, in Eskimo land, the summer is a time of never-ending day just as in the wintertime there is never-ending night. Finally he saw mountains ahead.

“Not much further,” he cried cheerily to the dog. “When we get to the mountains we’ll be in Santa Land.”

But, though Keotuk pulled on and on, they never seemed to get any closer and after a while storm clouds came down low over the sea and Oonik could not even see the mountains any more.

“This is going to be a big storm,” he murmured as he anxiously studied the lowering sky. “We’d better stop.”

He was especially careful digging his snow cave. He made it large and deep and when he and Keotuk were safely in he turned the sled on its side and pulled it against the opening to keep out the wind. He had hardly finished when the full might of the Ice King’s fury burst down upon the sea

But Oonik didn’t care. He snuggled against Keotuk’s warm fur and fell asleep.

He was awakened by a terrible noise of crashing ice. He was thrown across the cave and Keotuk came tumbling after him. Then they both slid to the top of the cave. Horrified, Oonik saw that the cave was collapsing.

The ice field on which the cave was had been broken into pieces and now the huge chunks of ice were grinding together, crumbling and piling on top of one another like toy blocks tossed about by a playful giant.

Shaking with fright, Oonik suddenly felt the cave being lifted into the air. Then, midst a thousand tons if ice, the cave burst open and Oonik was sliding down an enormous slab of ice.

Down, down, down, he plunged straight towards a pool of churning black water at the bottom of the upended cake of ice.

“Oh, help! help!” cried Oonik. “This is the end of me!”

Down, down, down Oonik slid on the huge slab of ice upended by the storm. Ahead of him was the black churning sea. Oonik threw himself back and dug in his heels but he could not stop sliding.

Just as he was about to zoom into the water there was a terrible screech and the ice slab suddenly reversed itself like a see saw and Oonik began rocketing back in the other direction.

With a whoosh he shot off the far end and landed head first in a snow drift. There he rolled himself up into a tight little ball and lay trembling with teeth chattering and hands over his ears.

But even the Ice King seemed to have had enough. The wind died down and the ice no longer groaned and creaked.

Oonik crawled out of the snowdrift. Blinking, he stared at the world. It was peaceful and quiet. Great piles of ice blocks lay about like forgotten toys. Where there had been open water there was now a solid ridge of ice.

There was no sign of Keotuk or the sled.

“Keotuk!” called Oonik. “Keotuk, come!”

He ran from ridge to ridge, calling and clapping his hands. Suddenly he saw a snowdrift rise up from the ice. The drift heaved and shook itself and there was Keotuk stepping sleepily out. Covered by the drift he had been safe and warm as the storm died out.

“Oh. Keotuk!” cried Oonik embracing the dog. “I knew you would be all right! But where is the sled?”

Alas, it was gone. Together with Oonik’s spear and the remainder of his food, the sled was buried beneath the ice or, perhaps, at the bottom of the sea.

Oonik stared at the mountains on the distant shore. There, nestled in those mountains, was Santa Land.

“We can make it.” Oonik told himself bravely. “Come, Keotuk, it isn’t too far. We’re almost there.”

Together they started off. Trudging slowly, Oonik often slipped and fell. Keotuk stayed at his side and when they came to an ice hill Keotuk caught Oonik’s parka in his teeth and helped drag him up and over.

On and on they went in the never ending daylight and little by little the snow-covered mountains grew closer. Then, when it seemed they were almost there Keotuk suddenly lay down.

“Come, on.” begged Oonik. “We can’t rest now. We’ll freeze or starve if we don’t get there soon.”

But Keotuk only whimpered softly. Oonik kneeled down and rubbed his hands through Keotuk’s fur. What is it?” he murmured gently.

Keotuk whimpered again and held up one of his front paws. Oonik gasped with dismay. The paw was cut and torn by ice splinters.

Oonik picked out the splinters. “Oh, Keotuk, if only you had shoes!” He moaned. Then he had an idea. “I will make you some shoes!”

With his knife he cut four strips of seal skin from his own coat. He wrapped the pieces of skin around Keotuk’s paws and tied them with lacing from his own hood.

“There,” he said, “ice splinters can’t hurt you now.”

Keotuk rose uncertainly to his feet. At first he limped but the soft skin shoes actually made his bruised paw feel better and after a while he was able to walk quite well.

On they trudged until at last they came to the shore and Oonik saw smoke curling up from beyond the hills.

“Everything will be all right now cried Oonik starting to run, “for that is surely smoke from Santa’s very own chimney!”

Oonik hurried over the hill and into the valley where he had seen smoke trailing into the sky.

Sure enough the smoke was coming from a little red chimney on top of a little red house.

“It’s Santa’s house! I know it is!” exclaimed Oonik joyfully and, with Keotuk at his heels, he rushed up to the porch.

Tap, tap! He knocked eagerly at the door.

There was no answer.

Bang, bang! he pounded.

Still no answer.

Oonik looked around. Now he saw another house nearly buried under the ice and snow. It was a long low building. Although it had a chimney, there was no smoke coining from it. Further away he saw a large red barn but still no sign of any living creature.

Keotuk sniffed at the door of the little red house. He whimpered. Puzzled, Oonik put his hand on the knob and opened the door.

“Hello!” he called. “May I come in?”

There was no answer. Holding his breath, Oonik tiptoed In. He found himself in a room with four square walls not at all like the round snow walls he was used to at home.

There was a little fire burning in the fireplace. Two large empty chairs sat before the fire. There was a desk in the corner with papers and letters strewn over its top.

“Oh, my!” breathed Oonik gazing around admiringly.

In all his life he had never been in any house except an igloo or tent. He had never seen a fireplace or a chair or a desk! He felt that he had walked into a palace such as he had heard kings lived in faraway places.

He was about to lower himself into one of the chairs when suddenly he heard a groan. He leaped up. The groan came again. It was from over his head! Astonished, he realized there was another room on top of the one he was in. He found some stairs and, trembling, he tiptoed up to the second floor.

He found himself in a bedroom and in the bedroom was a bed and in the bed there was someone. At least Oonik thought there was someone in the bed but it was hard to be sure because there were so many covers on it.

There were quilts and comforters and blankets and even an enormous polar bear rug on top of whoever was in the bed.

Oonik cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon.” he said.

The great pile of covers heaved upward and the astonished face of Mrs. Santa Claus appeared.

“Land sakes!” she cried. “Who are you?

“I am an Eskimo boy,” said Oonik nervously. “I have come from across the sea to ask Santa to save me and my people from the Ice King’s anger. You see, it is summer but still summer has not come.”

“Oh. I know! Don’t tell me!” said Mrs. Claus and she threw herself back into the covers with another groan.

“We have been waiting all these months for summer which has not come. And now I have terrible rheumatism which I should only have in winter months.

“And the snow is so high and the ice so thick we cannot get wood for the fires so the fairies have no fire in the workshops and they are too cold to work. We ourselves are using the dining room chairs for firewood but even those won’t last much longer.

“And the ice is so thick the reindeer have not been able to dig moss to eat and they are starving.

“Oh, don’t tell me about the Ice King’s anger. He’s gone plumb off his head, I say, and -”

“Where is Santa Claus?” interrupted Oonik uneasily.

“In the barn, I expect, nursing the reindeer. Santa says unless something happens soon there’s just not going to be any Christmas anymore.”

Oonik slipped from the room He ran down the stairs and out of the house.

“Oh, Keotuk,” he exclaimed to his dog waiting at the door. “It’s much worse than I knew! Why, even Santa doesn’t know what to do!”

Oonik ran down to the barn. The door was blocked snow. He knew someone was inside because he could hear voices and every now and then the tap of a reindeer’s hoof.

Oonik went around to the side of the barn. There he found a ladder leading up to an enormous window high above. He had never seen a ladder before. He climbed it fearfully. When he was near the top he looked down and when he saw Keotuk way below he grew so dizzy he almost fell. Shutting his eyes, he went up the rest of the ladder and climbed in the window.

He found himself at the top of a vast pile of hay. At the bottom of the pile was Santa Claus. He knew it was Santa because he was fat and round and wore a red stilt and had silvery whiskers. But he didn’t look gay and merry the way Oonik had always pictured him. He looked sad and worried.

He was taking to a crooked legged dwarf with large happy ears and the two of them were gazing unhappily at eight skinny reindeer.

“It’s no use, Tweedleknees,” Santa said. “I’m going to let them go. I can’t keep them here to starve.”

“If only they’d eat meat,” grumbled the crooked-legged dwarf. “Or cookies Or vegetables Or something.”

“They want moss,” murmured Santa Claus. “They can’t understand why summer has not come I’ll turn them loose. They can go somewhere where there’s bound to be summer in August as it should be.”

“But what will you do when Christmas comes?” exclaimed Tweedleknees. “With no reindeer how will you make your rounds?”

“I don’t know,” Santa shook his head. “Perhaps there won’t be Christmas any more. Who knows? Anyway, I’m turning them loose.”

“We’ll never get the door open,” protested Tweedleknees. “It’s blocked by snow.”

“They can fly out the window,” replied Santa. “That is if they still have the strength to fly.”

“Come now,” he said gently, patting the reindeer. “Fly away and find some summer feeding ground.”

The reindeer looked around uncertainly and then, tapping their hooves three times on the floor, they flew gracefully upwards straight to the window where Oonik sat.

“Wait, wait!” cried Oonik rising to his feet. “Don’t let them go!”

But it was too late. The reindeer brushed past him, one by one, into the sky.

Then Santa called out, “Who on earth are you?”

Oonik slid to the bottom of the pile of hay. He landed with a plop at Santa’s feet. “I’m Oonik the Eskimo boy,” he said. “And I came to you because my people are being destroyed by the Ice King’s anger.”

“Ah,” said Santa, “so are we, my boy. And it is the same everywhere. Only yesterday I had a letter from a child who said that though it was August she had not yet had a chance to use the bathing suit I brought her last Christmas. Another child wrote that he was still using the ice skates I brought to him. So you see, the whole world is cold.”

“But you must stop the Ice King!” cried Oonik.

“I?” said Santa.

“Of course! You are the most powerful, the bravest, the wisest one on earth. You are the only one who can stop the Ice King.”

Santa pulled his pipe from his pocket and slowly filled it. “Tell me,” he said. “How shall I stop the Ice King?”

“Why,’ said Oonik simply, “by going to him and telling him to stop.”

Now the crooked-legged Tweedleknees growled, “What nonsense! If Santa went to see the Ice King who knows what might happen to him!”

“I’ll go, too,” protested Oonik. “I - I could help!”

“You!” snorted Tweedleknees.

“Hush, Tweedleknees,” said Santa. Then he looked for a long time into Oonik’s eyes. At last he said, “Very good, son. We will go.”

Crooked-legged Tweedleknees jumped up and down in a rage.

“You cannot leave Santa Land!” he cried to Santa Claus. “Who is going to invent toys and show the fairies how to make them? Who is going to get things ready for next Christmas?”

“Do be quiet, Patrick Tweedleknees,” ordered Santa. “You know very well there may be no Christmas if the Ice King freezes up the whole world.”

“But it’s dangerous!” shouted Tweedleknees. He turned and shook his tiny fist in Oonik’s face. “Oh, you! Why did you ever come here with your big fat idea?”

“Don’t mind him,” said Santa taking Oonik s arm. “He makes a big noise to cover up his kind heart. Come, let’s be on our way.”

“How will you travel, may I ask?” persisted Tweedleknees. “The reindeer are gone.”

Santa said, “Well, I’ll think of something.”

“Keotuk can take us!” spoke up Oonik. “Keotuk’s my dog. He can take us anywhere. Except -” he dropped his head. “Except I - I have lost my sled.”

“Why, that’s nothing!” exclaimed Santa. “I can make us a sled.”

“Nothing of the sort,” said Tweedleknees huffily. “I’ll make the sled. I’m the chief sled maker around here, please remember.”

Santa chuckled. “Very well. Have it ready in an hour’s time. Now Oonik you go with Tweedleknees and I’ll go see Mrs. Claus.”

Still grumbling, but anxious now to show what he could do, Tweedleknees crawled up the pile of hay with Oonik behind him. They started down the ladder with Tweedleknees leading the way.

Oonik found that going down the strange contraption was much harder than going up. When he had gone half way he made the mistake of looking at the ground. His head whirled, he missed his footing, and slipped down on Tweedleknees’ head.

With a whoosh they came tumbling to the ground.

“I’m sorry!” cried Oonik jumping to his feet.

Tweedleknees lay motionless in the snow. “Are you hurt?” cried Oonik in alarm. But Tweedleknees lay like one dead. Suddenly Keotuk bounded up. Eagerly he licked the dwarf’s face. Instantly Tweedleknees leaped up.

“What is that thing?” he shouted in horror.

“It’s Keotuk, my dog,” said Oonik. “He’s only trying to help you.”

Tweedleknees drew in his breath. It seemed he was about to let out a torrent of abuse and Oonik’s knees shook with fear. But Tweedleknees merely sighed.

“Come on,” he said huffily. “But please don’t walk close to me for goodness only knows what you might do next.” And he marched glumly away with Oonik obediently trailing 10 feet behind.

Presently they turned into the door of a long low building nearly covered by snow. Oonik gasped at what he saw.

At one end of the room a group of silver-winged fairies huddled around a stove that held no fire.

In the middle of the room there were long tables, row on row, and on the table were such toys as Oonik had never seen or heard of.

There were kites and wagons and skates and baseball bats. There were fire engines and boxing gloves and doll houses and toy drums.

Oonik’s eyes popped and he stood with his mouth wide open unable to move or speak. But Tweedleknees marched up to the fairies and said, “Bring me tools and wood. I have a sled to make.”

The fairies, shivering and clattering their teeth, shook their heads. “There’s no wood to build a fire to keep warm by. How can we find you wood for a sled?”

Tweedleknees snapped his fingers. “Use the toys for firewood,” he said. “And I’ll take these wagons apart to build a sled.”

“What?” cried the Queen Fairy in consternation. “Destroy the toys we’ve already made?” “Santa himself is going to settle things with the Ice King,” said Tweedleknees importantly. “When he comes back there’ll be summer again for sure and when the ice melts we’ll find wood enough for a mountain of toys.”

The fairies built up the fire in the workshop. Sadly they threw doll beds and toy blocks, wooden soldiers and boxes of trucks into the flames. The room grew warm again and the fairies stopped shivering and sneezing and were able to smile.

But Oonik watched with tears in his eyes as the fabulous toys went up in flames.

“Don’t worry.” the fairies said, “we’ll be able to make toys again when Santa destroys the miserable Ice King.”

“He mustn’t destroy the Ice King,” corrected the Queen Fairy. “We want winter in the wintertime but we also want summer in the summertime. That’s what Santa is to straighten out with the Ice King. Oh, it will be lovely to see a flower growing again!”

“Oonik” growled Tweedleknees. “Come here!”

The flappy-eared dwarf had taken apart seven toy wagons and rebuilt them into a long red sled with wagon sides for slats and steel wheel spokes curved into runners.

“How is that?” demanded Tweedleknees.

“Beautiful!” exclaimed Oonik truthfully. “It looks also very fast

“Any sled I make is fast.” boasted Tweedleknees. “The fairies have brought in the reindeers’ harness. Hitch up your dog and you’re ready to go. Oh and here’s something else you may need.”

The gruff old dwarf handed Oonik an ice saw and a seal spear far finer than the ones he had lost on the frozen sea.

“Oh, thank you,” said Oonik, surprised and pleased.

Santa came carrying a sack of food. “Mrs. Claus felt so much better when I told her my plans she got right out of bed and made doughnuts and cookies and gingerbread men - all for Oonik the Eskimo boy, she said.”

Now Oonik had never in his life eaten cake or cookies but when he asked what they were Santa said. “Never mind, you’ll soon find out. I have raw meat here also for Keotuk.”

They packed the tools and food on the sled. Then Santa and Oonik climbed on and, while Tweedleknees shouted a tearful goodbye, away they went.

Keotuk wore his little seal skin shoes and bounded joyfully over the snow. But the sled was large and the load heavy and soon Keotuk had to slow down. Again and again Santa and Oonik got off to walk but often they fell or got separated in the falling snow so finally they stayed on the sled and let Keotuk pull it as best he could.

The further they went the colder it became. This was good because it meant they were getting closer to the Ice King’s domain. But finally, Keotuk could go no further and they had to stop.

The snow drifts were packed so hard it was impossible to burrow into them for protection while they slept and ate.

“I shall build an Igloo!” claimed Oonik.

“I am afraid it would take too long.” protested Santa.

“Oh, no.” replied Oonik. “My father has taught me. I can build one in an hour. Watch!”

With his snow saw he cut out blocks of ice from the drifts. Each block was about the size of a small suitcase. With Santa’s help, he placed the blocks in a circle about eight feet across, being careful to lean each block inward. The next two blocks he shaved down in such a way that when the second row of blocks went on it spiraled upward and inward.

Soon the spiral almost closed over Oonik’s head. He decided to leave an opening there to let in light.

But now he was inside a house with no door. He dug his way out making a long tunnel under the wall.

Then he said to Santa, “Come on in!”

It was a very tight squeeze through the tunnel, but Santa made it by pulling in his tummy and holding his breath. Then Oonik brought in Keotuk and pulled in the sled which was easy because the sled was long and narrow.

Now they were safe and warm and not even the Ice King could harm them

“This is the finest house I’ve ever been in,” said Santa as he settled down in Oonik’s Igloo. “Someday I’d like you to make some igloos for me out of toy blocks of make believe ice. Do you think children might like them for Christmas?”

“Yes,’ laughed Oonik, “but not Eskimo children, please!”

Santa laughed, too. “Wait until you see what Mrs. Claus has made for you!” He unpacked the bag on the sled. First he gave Keotuk, the dog, a big hunk of raw seal meal. Then he unwrapped a gingerbread man.

“Is it to eat?” asked Oonik puzzled.

“Certainly” said Santa. ‘It is delicious.” And he ate one himself and smacked his lips with pleasure.

Cautiously Oonik bit into the gingerbread man. It tasted like hay to him. He chewed and chewed and at last with much difficulty he swallowed it. “It is very good,” he said politely

“Have a cupcake,” said Santa.

Oonik dutifully ate a cupcake but when Santa offered him another he smiled forlornly and said, “No, thank you.”

Santa helped himself to cookies and cake while Oonik gazed longingly at the seal meat Keotuk was devouring. Then, Santa understood. He got out Keotuk’s meat and cut off a large hunk of raw seal blubber and put it in Oonik’s hands. Eagerly Oonik gobbled it up.

Then he smiled happily. “That was good!” he said.

Santa laughed and laughed. “Now I know what to put in your stocking for Christmas.” he said.

When they had finished eating they lay down together with Keotuk at their feet and went to sleep.

A long time later they were awakened by a snorting at the other end of the tunnel which led into the igloo. Keotuk sprang to his feet and darted to the tunnel. The sled barred the entrance. The hair on the dog’s neck bristled and he began to bark furiously.

“You hold Keotuk,” said Oonik. “I’ll see what it is.”

He pushed aside the sled and crawled into the tunnel. When he got near the far end he looked up and saw the entrance was blocked by a big black nose.

His eyes popping, Oonik retreated into the igloo. “It’s - it’s a huge polar bear!” he gasped.

Keotuk broke loose from Santa’s hold and threw himself at the tunnel. Just in time Oonik propped the sled back in place and the dog clawed uselessly at it.

“What’ll we do?” said Oonik. “We’ll never get out!”

Santa took up Oonik’s seal spear and said, “I’ll get him.” Then, while Oonik tied Keotuk to the sled, Santa slid into the tunnel on his stomach.

But Santa was so fat and the tunnel was so narrow he could only just fit into it. It was impossible for him to move forward he slid back into the igloo.

“We’ll have to make the tunnel larger,” he said.

“But then the bear can get in before we can get out,” said Oonik.

“Let me try going through the tunnel. I am small and I can use the spear without leaving the tunnel.”

Before Santa could protest, Oonik slid into the tunnel, pushing the spear along in front of him. By now the bear had punched a larger hole into the ice so that not only his nose but his whole face was poked into the entrance.

When he saw Oonik he sniffed curiously and tried to come closer. Oonik drew back his arm and, using all his strength, gave a mighty lunge with the spear straight at the bear’s face.

The great bear jerked his head with astonishment, his jaws opened and closed on the spear, and, with one powerful tug, yanked it and Oonik out of the tunnel.

Still holding the end of the spear in his tightly locked jaws, the great polar bear stared in astonishment at what he had fished out of the igloo while Oonik, still holding his end of the spear, stared fearfully back.

At last Oonik gave a little yank to free the spear from the bear’s jaw. The bear yanked back. For a time they played a tug of war.

Then the bear tired of it. He reared suddenly back and tore the spear from Oonik’s hands. Growling fiercely he dropped the spear to the ice and stomped it into a hundred pieces.

Horrified, Oonik darted for the Igloo. But just as he got his head into the tunnel the bear snatched him up by the scat of his pants and lumbered away across the frozen land.

All this time Santa Claus had been struggling to get out of the Igloo. When he saw Oonik yanked out of the tunnel, Santa started after him. Unfortunately, so did Keotuk and Keotuk was still tied to the sled.

For a moment, sled, dog and Santa Claus were jammed helplessly in the tunnel. Twisting and turning, Santa at last managed to untie the frantic dog from the sled. With a glad yelp Keotuk burst out of the tunnel and Santa, puffing and red faced, slithered after him just in time to see Oonik being carried away by the seat of his pants.

With Keotuk barking ferociously Santa took after Oonik. The polar bear moved faster. Keotuk nipped at his heels. The polar bear began to run. Then Keotuk leaped through the air and fastened his jaws around the bear’s left rear leg.

Furious, the bear, carrying Oonik in his jaws and Keotuk on his left rear leg, turned and glared at Santa Claus who at that very Instant panted up to him.

The bear rose on his hind legs and prepared to bring his crushing front paws down on Santa but Santa cried out, “Why don’t we be friends?” and before the bewildered bear could come forward Santa threw his arms and legs around the great animal’s middle.

The bear dropped to his feet and began to run in circles. Santa clung under his middle, Keotuk gripped his heel, Oonik drooped from his jaws.

Round and round, faster and faster, ran the polar bear. But still Santa and Keotuk clung to him. It never occurred to him to drop Oonik, for he felt that it was best to have his teeth into something if only the seat of his enemy’s pants.

In all his life he had never known or heard of such creatures as these. He was King of the Polar Lands and before him his father had been king and before that his father’s father and never had any polar bear seen an enemy he could not frighten by the merest look.

Now the poor bear’s pride was wounded and gradually he moved slower and slower until at last he came to a stop and gently dropped Oonik from his jaws.

Santa unloosed his arms and legs and crawled from under the bear, Keotuk unlocked his teeth and ran up to lick his master.

Oonik said, “Hooray! Let us slay him and we will have food for days to come!”

But Santa said, “No, son, for he is a king and I expect he too has been starving in this year without summer. Let us be friends with him and he will help us subdue the Ice King.”

“How so?” asked Oonik.

“Simple,” replied Santa. “He will take us to the Ice King’s domain.”

Oonik dragged the big sled from the igloo and Santa harnessed it to the now gentle polar bear. Then Santa and Oonik and Keotuk got on the sled and the polar bear started away.

At first the boar walked slowly and kept looking behind as if trying to understand what he was pulling and why. But after a while he got used to it and even began to enjoy it. He felt that he was stronger and more powerful than these creatures, after all, for he was taking them somewhere, not they taking him.

He began to run and the heavy sled sped over the ice like a pebble skimming over water.

Keotuk was very pleased to be a rider. Every now and then he leaped from the sled and ran along beside the bear to make sure everything was all right. But now even Keotuk could not keep up with the fast bear and the dog always tired and jumped back on the sled to travel in style.

On and on they went until finally the day came when Santa touched Oonik on the shoulder and shouted, “There it is!”

Oonik poked his head out of his fur hood and looked where Santa pointed. He saw a lofty castle made all of ice shimmering behind veils of whirling snow.

The castle stood on a hill and its bluish white spires towered into the sky. Gale winds lashed around the hill, whipping at the castle walls and howling among the steeples.

“How strange it is!” shivered Oonik when they reached the castle. “Aren’t you afraid?”

“I am, indeed,” confessed Santa.

Even Keotuk and the polar bear, when they arrived at the castle, were overwhelmed by the eerie solitude. They huddled together, the dog between the bear’s big paws, for warmth and company.

Looking fearfully to right and left, Santa and Oonik went up the icy path and through the icy door and into the icy hall of the icy castle. They saw no sign of living creature but suddenly from some faraway place above their heads came a rumbling, rattling, clattering thunder as if the whole castle was about to crash down on top of them.

His knees shaking, hardly daring to breathe, Oonik followed Santa up the winding stairs. Up and up, round and round, they went and the higher they went, the louder grew the hubbub until at last, nearly deafened, they arrived in a chamber at the top of the winding stairs and there they found the Ice King himself.

He was a giant of a king with deep set eyes and whitewashed hair that fell over his forehead and alabaster whiskers climbing his checks. Ice was on his eyebrows and icicles dripped from his whiskers. As he breathed, clouds of frost exploded from his nostrils.

With one hand he turned the handle of a colossal ice crusher while with the other hand he pumped an immense bellows up and down.

From the bellows came the howling winds, from the crushing came the avalanche of ice that covered the northern lands. Santa took a deep breath and shouted from the door, “Do stop a moment!”

But the Ice King neither heard nor saw. He worked on like one possessed as if he would never, could never stop.

Santa crossed the room and laid his hand on the Ice King’s shoulder. With a startled cry the Ice K:ing threw up his arms and whirled around.

Instantly the pandemonium ceased and the room was hushed. “Who are you?” thundered the Ice King staring at the visitors from inflamed blue eyes.

Santa swallowed hard and fell back a step. Oonik peeped fearfully from behind Santa’s back. Then Santa cleared his throat and bravely said, “We’re friends. Come to call.”

The Ice King’s mouth fit open and he stared and stared and then, with a cry, he burst into tears!

Oonik marveled to see the Ice King cry. Even the king’s tears were made of ice. They rained from his cheeks and clattered to the floor like hailstones on a roof.

“What is it? That is the matter?” cried Santa in alarm.

“Nothing,” replied the Ice King kicking away the tears. It’s just that you’re the first to ever come here and call himself friend.”

Then he told Santa how all his life he had lived alone in his frozen castle where not even a servant would live. How no one ever came to call. How he had no friends and everyone in the whole world hated him because he was winter itself and brought everyone cold and misery.

“But you are wrong!’ protested Santa. ‘Winter has its proper place. Children love snow and animals love to hibernate and even grownups love to sit before their fires on stormy nights.”

The king’s face brightened. “Do they really like me?” he asked.

“Of course they do,” replied Santa.

“But now,” went on Santa sternly, “it is August. For four months the world has waited for spring and summer but still you send your ice and snow and frigid winds. That is wrong. Why do you do it?”

“It’s because I am so lonely!” burst out the Ice King. “All winter I can keep busy making storms but in summertime there’s nothing to do but sit and mope. So this year I decided I would just keep on making winter forever and that way I’ll always be busy and happy too.”

Santa shook his head sadly. “And so the whole world will freeze and starve.”

The Ice King hung his head and walked away. “I thought since they hated me anyway I might as well be really hateful,” he mumbled.

Santa took out his pipe and lit it. For a long while he smoked in silence and then he said, “You must get a wife.”

“What?” cried the Ice King turning to stare.

“A wife. You must get a wife to love you and care for you and help you from being lonely or feeling hateful again.”

“A wife?” whispered the Ice King and his eyes softened and he began to smile. Then his face clouded over and he burst out bitterly, “Who would ever marry me?”

“There are lonely maidens in the world just as there are lonely men,” said Santa. “The trick is to get them together. I have in mind for you a beautiful creature whom I happen to know is in a marrying mood.”

Who?” said the Ice King eagerly.

“The Sun Daughter,” said Santa. “She dwells in the East where the sun rises each day.” He paused and scratched his head. “Ah,” he sighed, “if only I had my reindeer back we could travel there in a single day!”

Oonik, quiet and awe-struck all this time, now tugged at Santa’s sleeve.

“I can get the reindeer,” he said.

Santa shook his head “No, my boy, I turned them loose. You remember, and they are far away now hunting for the summer food they could not find up here.”

“I am a good reindeer hunter,” Oonik bragged. “My father taught me well.”

“But even your father has not been able to find any reindeer this summer,” said Santa.

I will not find just any reindeer,” insisted Oonik, “I will find your reindeer.”

“But how can you?” cried Santa, ‘when I have turned them free?”

“Because,” said Oonik with smile, “they have followed you here, all the way.”

Santa’s eight reindeer did not want freedom. Neither did they want to find food for themselves if it meant leaving Santa Claus.

So, when Santa turned them loose they had merely hidden behind a snow ridge. When he had started out on his journey with Oonik the reindeer had followed, always from a distance, always out of sight.

They were very jealous of Keotuk because he pulled Santa’s sled. When the polar bear started pulling the sled the reindeers’ hearts were broken. They thought Santa had turned them free to get rid of them. But still they trailed him loyally.

It was true that Oonik had a fine hunter’s eye and his father had trained him well. From the very beginning he had seen the reindeers antlers far behind and sometimes heard the clatter of their hooves.

So now he said to the Ice King, ‘Do you have some salt?”

The Ice King replied, “Certainly. I have taken salt from sea ice and I use it to keep my ice from melting in the summer time. But this year there has been no melting and I have salt to spare.”

Oonik took the salt the Ice King gave him and spread it on the steps of the castle. Then he clapped his hands and waved his coat and shouted.

By and by the reindeer, who were hiding behind a hill, came up, one by one, and gratefully licked the salt from the steps. Then Santa came out and greeted them and embraced them with tears in his eyes.

Now,” said Santa to the Ice King, “you must come and woo the Sun Daughter.”

The Ice King trembled with eagerness. He took a comb of icicles from his pocket and carefully combed his silken hair.

“Do I look all right?” he asked nervously.

“Irresistible,” said Santa.

He harnessed the reindeer to the sled and he and Oonik and the Ice King and Keotuk and even the polar bear, who did not want to be left behind, got on the sled. The eight reindeer, overjoyed to be working for Santa again, did not mind the heavy load. They lifted the sled into the sky and away they sped.

In no time at all they arrived in a land far to the east where the Sun Daughter dwelled.

Now this maiden was the favorite daughter of the Sun. She dwelled in the east so that her father could see her face the very first thing in the morning when he came over the horizon at dawn.

Though she was very beautiful she had never married because she was very finicky and hard to please. Still she realized she was getting older every year and she often longed for a husband to spoil her when her father was not around to do it.

So she was overjoyed when Santa Claus suddenly appeared at her bright little cottage and announced he had brought her a suitor.

“Show him in!” she cried eagerly and then rushed to her little bedroom to change into a yellow frock and arrange her lovely yellow hair.

When she came back there was the Ice King standing there, over come with admiration, the icicles trembling from his whiskers and the hoar-frost gleaming in his hair.

“Oh Beautiful One,” he murmured tenderly and moved to take her hand.

But the Sun Daughter stepped back in horror. She snatched up a blanket and threw it around her shoulders.

“Get out! Get out!” she screamed. “I can’t bear the cold!” And she went in her bedroom and slammed the door.

Furious, the Ice King stalked from the house. “See!” he shouted angrily at Santa Claus. “Everyone hates me. Take me home! I shall go back to my castle and make a winter that will last a thousand years!”

“What will we do?” whispered Oonik as the sled flew away. “The Ice King will never stop making winter snow.”

“We’ll make one more try,” said Santa. “This one I think will do”

“Who is she?” asked Oonik.

“The Ice Queen of the South.” said Santa.

“I didn’t know there was such a one!” exclaimed Oonik.

“Oh, yes,” said Santa. ‘She lives at the South Pole where, I have heard, it is colder by far than at our home in the North.”

The Ice King had buried his head in the polar bear’s fur to hide his tears of shame and sorrow at being rejected by the Sun Daughter. As the reindeer sped towards the South Pole it grew colder and colder and the Ice King, thinking they were nearing home, raised his head and shouted gleefully, “I must’ have left my ice machine going full blast!”

The sled came down before a palace of ice. “What is this?” cried the King. “This isn’t my home.”

“It is the South Pole.” replied Santa. “The Ice Queen lives here. I have brought you to ask for her hand.”

“Never!” roared the king. “I told you I would never humble myself again. Everyone hates me and I hate everyone and that’s the end of that.” And he threw himself down beside the polar bear and refused to budge an inch

Santa left him there and went into the Ice Queen’s palace. Now the Ice Queen’s palace was just like the Ice King’s castle. Everything was made of ice and far above Santa could hear the same grinding, clattering noise he had heard at the King’s home. Santa went up a winding icy staircase and found the Ice Queen energetically working her ice machines and pumping her wind bellows

But this was as it should be for at the South Pole winter always came in June and July and August and when December, January and February came, the Ice Queen would stop her work for it would be summer-time in her upside down world.

Santa had to holler to make himself heard over the noise. “I’ve brought you a suitor” he bellowed.

The Ice Queen stopped pounding and pumping. She turned and stared at Santa. She was tall and regal looking and she too had icicles in her hair and frost on her eyebrows.

“A suitor?” she exclaimed blushing. What nonsense! Who would ever want to marry me?”

“He’s in my sled,” said Santa. “Come and see.”

Picking up her icy skirts the Ice Queen rushed down the stairs and out to the sled. There was the Ice King sitting there with his back to her staring at his feet.

The Ice Queen walked in front of him and gazed at him worshipfully. “Oh, no!” she whispered. “He’s too wonderful for me.”

The Ice King raised his sullen eyes and when he saw her his heart turned over. He got out of the sled and took one step towards the Queen and then they both gulped and cried out. “Oh, would you marry me?”

They fell in each other’s arms and Oonik jumped up and down with joy and Keotuk barked and even the polar bear looked pleased.

Then the Ice King said, “Fly with me now to my castle in the north.”

But the Queen said, “I can’t do that for it is wintertime at the South Pole and I must keep things cold.”

The King looked crest fallen. “But, I can’t stay here.” he mumbled unhappily. “I am needed at the North Pole.”

Santa burst into laughter. He laughed until the tears rolled down his cheeks.

“What is so funny?” demanded the Ice King.

“You!” cried Santa. “You’ve forgotten - it’s August! It should be summer in the North and you’re not needed or wanted there at all!”

The Ice King looked sheepish. “You are right,” he said. “I had forgotten it’s August and supposed to be summer-time in northern lands. I’m not: needed there at all.”

“So.” said Santa, “you and the Ice Queen can stay here and make winter for the South Pole lands. Then, In December, when it’s summertime at the bottom of the world, you and the Queen can come North and make winter at the top of the world.”

“How wonderful!” exclaimed the Queen. “That way we’ll always be together!”

“And we’ll be able to make winter all year ‘round,” said the King happily.

“And no one will hate you.” said Santa, “because everyone will have warm weather for half the year.”

Oonik could hold himself in no longer. “Hooray!” he shouted, jumping up and down. “Everything is settled. Let’s hurry home and tell my people the news.”

“They already know,” said Santa, “for the Ice King has already been some days away from his job. But you are right, and I, too, must hurry back to my shops for I’ve a whole year’s work ahead of me and summer, if it has come, is almost gone.”

The Ice King laughed. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re very slow coming up from our honeymoon and winter will have a late start this year in Eskimo land.”

Santa and Oonik and Keotuk got on the sled but the polar bear wouldn’t get on. He stood between the Ice King and the Ice Queen and refused to he coaxed away.

“Leave him here.” said the Queen and King. “We three will rule the winters together.”

So Oonik and Santa left them there and headed back for Santa Land. When they arrived they found that sure enough, the snow had already begun to melt and the frozen sea had broken up.

The fairy land workers rushed out to greet them. “You did it!” cried crooked-legged Tweedleknees. “You conquered the Ice King!”

“Not conquered,” said Santa with a smile. ‘We just made friends with him.”

Mrs. Claus came running from the house. “Oh, Santa,” she cried. “My rheumatism is all gone. And guess what? I saw birds yesterday - flying up from the South! Oh, summer is really here!” She caught Oonik up in an embrace. “You poor hungry boy - you come right in and I’ll fix you some gingerbread men.”

But Oonik remembered the gingerbread he had had on the trip and he said, “Thank you but I must be on my way. My people will be starting for their summer hunting grounds and I must be there to help them.”

“Ha!” scoffed Tweedleknees while Santa disappeared into the toy shop. “How will you get home? The ice on the sea is broken up and your sled will do you no good.”

Oonik had really thought Santa would take him home so now he was crestfallen and worried,

Tweedleknees slapped him on the back. “Cheer up!” he shouted gleefully. “I have made you a boat!”

Then he took Oonik to the water’s edge and showed him a kayak - the strongest, tightest, most beautiful kayak any Eskimo ever had. It had two holes in its seal skin top. Oonik fitted himself into one hole and Keotuk fitted into the other.

“Don’t forget the paddle.” called Santa, running down from the shop. “It’s a very special paddle for a very special boy. Stroke but once and it will carry you across the widest sea.”

Oonik reached up for the paddle and his whole face shone with astonished pleasure.

“Why it’s - it’s just like Christmas!” he exclaimed.

“And why not?” smiled Santa. “It’s been a cold, cold summer!”

Then he and Tweedleknees and Mrs. Claus and all the Santa folk cried “Merry Christmas!” Oonik shouted “Merry Christmas to all!” and gave one push with his paddle and sped home across the summer sea. “Merry Christmas to all!” Oonik shouted from his kayak.