They heard a crack and a crash behind them, and turning about Maida saw a wide space of open water which prevented them from retracing their steps. They were afloat on a huge cake of ice. But she had no time to think about it, for she saw the white sword flash through the air again, and oh my, the cold was awful. Even poor old Fido shivered and grunted, and when a Polar Bear feels chilly you may know it is really wintry. A third time Jack Frost waved his white sword, then he laughed in a ghastly way, leaped up in the air, and disappeared in a shower of snow crystals. No sooner was he gone than the wind rose and a terrible gale blew with great fury, urging the ice-cake along through the black water, just like an immense ship.
Now, of course you know there isn’t much open water in the Arctic Circle, but the whole sea is frozen over and covered with an ice-floe which never melts. Well, the ice-cake they were on came to the end of the open water, tilted up, slid out on the ice-floe, then they began to fly along just as if they were in an ice-boat. The wind blew harder and harder, the cake slid faster and faster, racking and thumping and cracking and crashing, and it’s no secret now—Maida wished she had never, never, never come, but that she was back in her own little pink and white bed at home.
Chapter XIV
It grew colder and colder. Maida cried out to the Man with the Growly Voice and begged him to use one of the little tablets of condensed climate. But he called back and told her the tablets were all gone—and that if he turned on the tropical climate from the can the ice-cake would all melt and they would sink to the bottom of the sea. So, of course, there was nothing to do but hang on and cuddle up to the Bear. Which she did.
At last they could see a long range of hills straight ahead, and they knew they were nearly across the frozen seas. At lightning speed their ice-boat dashed toward the cliffs and presently there was a great crashing and splintering of ice. The ice-cake beat itself to pieces on the rocks and the whole party found themselves scrambling about on a most inhospitable shore. But they were all there, and all safe. The Candy Kid chortled with glee. If you don’t know what chortle means get out your dictionary. It isn’t an Eskimo word, though it sounds like one—but it means exactly what the Candy Kid did.
“Well, at any rate,” he said, “we’ve left old Jack Frost behind.”
A mocking laugh answered him, and there stood Jack Frost as fierce, as cold, as dangerous as ever. Fast as they had flown, he had travelled faster, and was waiting for them. So, of course, they were all in the depths of despair. Jack Frost blew a shrill blast on a silver whistle and in a moment they were surrounded by a legion of his Ice-Guards, so escape was out of the question.
Maida looked to the Man with the Growly Voice as if to beg him for protection. To her surprise he did not seem to be in the least afraid; he actually winked at her, as he unslung his can of climate and commenced to fiddle with the little keys and dials on it. And her heart leaped with joy, for she felt that in some way he would get them all out of the trouble.
Well, to begin with, they all came in for a good lecture. Jack Frost just gave it to Billy and Santa Claus for not staying at home where they belonged and making toys. Then he scolded the White Lady severely. It seemed that once upon a time he had asked her to leave the service of Aurora Borealis and come and be Queen of the North Wind, which she refused (and I don’t blame her—do you?), so when he saw her with the Disconsolate Lover, he was very, very angry. After he got through with those two he turned his attention to Kankakee and the Eskimos, lectured them for guiding strangers into the Forbidden Land, and to make it worse he lectured them in Eskimo talk, so I can’t begin to tell you what he said—but it sounded dreadful—even the dogs howled mournfully.