Chapter X

On the edge of the Frozen Zone stands the City of Arcturia. You needn’t look for it in your geography, you won’t find it there; in fact, one of the men who wrote the “Geography” positively declared there isn’t any such place. So it isn’t on the map. But as Maida spent several days there she ought to know more about it than some old bookworm who stayed at home and scribbled while she was on her travels.

Did you ever go to bed at night when it was raining and raining and raining, then awaken in the morning to find the rain had frozen on the grass, and on the twigs--till all the trees looked as if they had been dipped in melted silver and then set out to dry? Well, that’s the way Arcturia looks. Without doubt it is one of the most wonderful and beautiful cities in the world--all ice--nothing but ice.

Maida rode on Fido’s back across the snow desert with the Candy Kid on one side and Jack-in-the-Box on the other, for they were rivals you know and quarrelled dreadfully whenever they got near each other. As they drew near the city their eyes were dazzled by the brightness--even Fido blinked, but they pressed on till they came to a sort of wall which brought them to a halt. It was a most peculiar wall--it was so high the Bear could not see over it, even though he reared up on his hind legs, when he was very tall indeed. It ran East as far as they could see and just as far to the West, and it was hard and smooth, like polished iron. The four sat down in a row and stared first at each other and then at the wall.

“What do you suppose it is?” asked Maida, “and how are we going to get over it?”

Suddenly the Candy Kid remembered. “I know, I know,” he laughed, “I remember now. I’ve heard Santa Claus talk about this. It’s the Arctic Circle.”

“That’s right,” chuckled Jack-in-the-Box, and the Bear nodded his head wisely.

“The Arctic Circle?” said Maida, “then we won’t have a bit of trouble. We’ll just go right on; for the Arctic Circle is only an imaginary line.”

“Do you mean to tell me I don’t see it?” asked Jack.

“You think you see it,” Maida replied severely, “but if you just ignore it, why, it can’t keep us back a minute.”

“I’m going to find out,” said the Candy Kid, and he walked deliberately into the wall and disappeared. The others quickly followed him, and in a moment they found themselves on the other side, with the city before them, and the wall stretching out to the East and West, behind them.

The first thing they came upon was a Walrus, who was smoking a pipe and repairing a hole in the street. You’ve seen the men set in the granite blocks, or put down that black sticky stuff that is so nice to roller skate on when it is all flattened out and hardened? Well, the Walrus didn’t use blocks of stone or black sticky stuff on the street, he simply set in a nice fresh block of ice and packed some snow in the little cracks. The street was all ice blocks.

Somehow Maida didn’t feel at all afraid of the Walrus. He looked very kind, so she timidly went to him and spoke. “Please, sir----” Then she shrank back a little, as the Walrus looked up in surprise. “I don’t mean please, _sir_, for of course you’re not a _sir_, you’re only an _it_--but _please_--can you tell us where we can go to get something to eat?”

“On the corner of the next street,” the Walrus replied, “you will find a street car which passes the hotel.”

“But we haven’t any carfare,” said Maida, turning to the others, “have we?” And the others shook their heads dolefully.

“Oh, I’ll lend you carfare,” replied the Walrus, and he reached in his pocket, drew out a large fish, and handed it to Maida. “Good-bye,” he said, and began to work on another bad place in the road.

When they got to the corner they looked about for a street car, but there wasn’t one in sight. Just then a large sledge drawn by four reindeers dashed up. Somebody rang a bell. The sledge stopped, and a pretty Eskimo girl got off and pattered away.

“This must be the car,” said Maida, and she was sure of it when she saw the driver was a huge Penguin, and the conductor was a Seal wearing a nice uniform. They climbed aboard, but the Seal wouldn’t let Fido go in the sledge and sit down.

“Company rule,” he said gruffly, “Polar Bears must be left on the platform,” so Fido curled up on the back of the car. Maida handed the Seal Conductor the fish which the Walrus had loaned her. “Four?” he asked, and Maida nodded; so he rang the bell four times, and gave her the change, which was half a dozen sardines.

Maida will never forget that street car ride, the first day in Arcturia. They passed through the market-place and saw ever so many seals trading their cast-off coats for sugar plums, and gobbling them up in a hurry as if they feared they would lose them.

They passed great high buildings, made out of blocks of ice, and saw little Eskimo boys selling newspapers printed on sheets of ice. Maida bought one, and after she had read it she ate it; and it was very good. At last they came to the hotel. They all got out and went in the office, and who do you think they found? Santa Claus and Billy and the Man with the Growly Voice. The big Eskimo, Kankakee, and his pretty daughter, Kokomo, while over in a corner stood the Disconsolate Lover staring out of the window as if he hoped to see the White Lady he was seeking.