… very nice snowman. He was looking at me with his black coal eyes and smiling with a mouth, made from a stick. “Who had made him?” – I thought. All members of our expedition were grown-ups and had no wish to waste time making snowmen. But he was and he was real. Thinking of this, I totally woke up. Suddenly a saw our cook, who was playing with two small and pretty polar bear cubs. They were fairly nice. He noticed me and said that their mother had been killed by one of our collaborators and he couldn’t but had taken them to us because they are too wonderful to die. He also told me that he had wanted to feed them, so he had takes two fish from our reserves. I asked him whether he wanted to ask the headmaster to let them to stay with our expedition. The cook said: “Yes.” Next day we had a great argue with our manager but bears were allowed to stay as an “alive provident that it is possible to live in Arctic”. All of us had fun playing with them and when it was time to live we were very upset that it’s not possible to take these “soft toys” with us. At the flight back I asked our cook, with whom we had made good friends, whether he knew where from that snowman appeared. He laughed at me and said: “Oh, dear, it wasn’t a snowman. It was mine not successful attempt to immortalize their mother!”