“You might tell me where the Spring is,” answered Mit-kah.
“Hanging up in a bag in your angekok’s house,” said the Bear. “Didn’t you know?”
“No,” said Mit-kah, “I didn’t, and thank you very much for telling me. I’ll just go straight away and let it out.” For she was not afraid of anything.
“I’m afraid that won’t do,” replied the Bear, apologetically. “You see, it’s so cold from my being about here so long, that if you let the Spring out of the bag, it’ll just die.”
“Then couldn’t I go and borrow some elsewhere?”
“N—n—no, I’m afraid that won’t do, either.” The Bear shook his head, regretfully. “You see, there’s never more than enough to go round, as it is.”
“Then what am I to do?” asked Mit-kah, sadly.
“I don’t know, unless you could find something even warmer than the Spring, to warm the bag before it wakes up. Look here, I don’t know much about such things, but if you came home with me, the Old Woman could tell you.”
“What Old Woman?”
The Bear looked surprised. “Why, the Old Sky Woman. She housekeeps for the lot of us, you know—all the Weathers and the Seasons. If there’s anything warmer than the Spring, she could tell you of it. Wonderful things she has at home! But perhaps you would be afraid to come with me?”