A Duel with Icicles
“I wonder,” she said to herself, “who it is they like enough to fight a duel over.”
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.