Yannick Murphy - Baby Polar

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Baby Polar by Yannick Murphy Illustrated by Kristen Balouch C LARION B OOKS
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
New York Boston
2009

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For my cubs,
Hank, Louisa, and Kit
Y.M. For Marley
K.B. Clarion Books 215 Park Avenue South, New York, NY 10003 Text copyright 2009 by Yannick Murphy Illustrations copyright 2009 by Kristen Balouch The artwork was created digitally using Adobe Photoshop and Adobe Illustrator. The text was set in 18-point Stone Informal. All rights reserved. For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 215 Park Avenue South, New York, NY 10003.

Clarion Books is an imprint of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. www.clarionbooks.com Printed in Singapore Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Murphy, Yannick. Baby Polar / by Yannick Murphy; illustrated by Kristen Balouch. p. cm. Summary: Even though his mother warns him of a coming storm, Baby Polar goes outside to play, but when he cannot see his own paw he realizes that he now faces danger.

ISBN 9780618998500 [1. Polar bear -Fiction. 2. Bears -Fiction. 3. 4. 4.

Storms -Fiction.] I. Balouch, Kristen, ill. II. Title. PZ7.M9566 Bab 2009 [E]22 2008011619 TWP 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Baby Polar stood between his mother's legs. He imagined she was a cave.

Only the cave wasn't made of stone or rock, but of her thick fur and warm body. Baby Polar liked it there. He didn't feel the icy wind there. And he could hear the beating of his mother's heart. "Look, a storm is coming," Mama Polar said. Baby Polar saw dark clouds crossing over the blue sky.

Soon, flakes of snow began to fall. Baby Polar wished he could go outside and play. "Can I go play in the snow?" asked Baby Polar. "Only for a little while. This might be a big storm," Mama Polar said. Baby Polar walked out of his cave.

The snow was beautiful. He held out his paw and watched the pretty crystals melt on his black pad. He turned his face up to the falling snow. He held out his tongue and tasted the white flakes. The snow started coming down hard. It started to get deep.

So Baby Polar lay down in the snow, with his round belly facing the sky. He moved his furry legs up and down. Swish, swish. He was making wings. He stood up and saw the shape he had made in the snow. "Look at the Snow Goose I made," called Baby Polar to Mama Polar. "The storm is coming closer. "The storm is coming closer.

It's time to come back." "But I want to keep playing," Baby Polar said as he skated across the ice. He looked behind him at the trails he had made. He made loop-de-loops. He made crisscrosses He zigged and zagged. Then Baby Polar noticed the sky had grown very dark. He couldn't see his loop-de-loops or crisscrosses.

It was snowing so hard that he couldn't see his own paw in front of him. The wind was blowing so strong that it hurt his face. He wished he were with his mother. He wished he could feel her warm body around him like a cave. "Mama Polar, where are you?" he called. But there was no answer, only the howling of the cold wind.

Baby Polar started to cry. His tears froze and stuck to his cheeks like diamonds. Baby Polar wanted to get out of the storm. Great gusts of wind whipped through the air. They blew falling flakes of snow from side to side and from here to there. He came to a white hill. He came to a white hill.

The hill was made of snow. He dug into the snow. He dug and dug, the white snow flying behind him.

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