“Father, where is Greenland?” said Tommy, presently.
“A country away up at the North—away up in that direction.” His father pointed far across the cow-pasture, which lay shining in the evening light. “I must show it to you on the map.”
“Is it very cold there?” asked Tommy.
“Very cold in winter.”
“Colder than this?”
“Oh, yes, because it is so far north that the sun never gets up in winter to warm it, and away up there the winter is just one long night and the summer one long day.”
“Why, that’s where Santa Claus comes from,” said Tommy. “Do people live up there?”
“People called Eskimos,” said his father, “who live by fishing and hunting.”
“Tell me about them,” said Tommy. “What do they hunt?”
“Bears,” said his father, “polar bears—and walrus—and seals—and——”