“You are mortals,” finally said Jack Frost, and the look on his face was anything but pretty. “You are mortals and you have dared to cross the Forbidden Land. What have you to say?” No one had anything to say. “You know the penalty,” he continued. “No mortal has braved my wrath and lived.” All the Eskimos knelt before him and began to implore mercy, but he paid no attention to them. “Now pay the price of your madness,” he cried, and he waved the sword of white once about his head. 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.”