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.
[Illustration: The Walrus Mends the Street]
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.
[Illustration: “He walked deliberately into the wall”]
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.