“See,” he said, taking Jack up again, “I have sent on the ball before us, and it will keep you nice and warm.”
Jack looked in front of him and saw a great ball of light, which the wind-fairy blew along as he went, and which sent out a soft warmth.
“How did you manage to carry it?” he asked of the fairy.
“It was quite a little thing when Princess Pyra gave it to me,” he answered, “no bigger than a spark of light, and I have blown it up to its present size. I doubt if it will keep alight till after we reach the North Pole, but it will keep you warm till then, and I shall be able to bring you back very quickly. Now we are coming to the ice-world.”
Looking about him, Jack saw that the blocks of ice were growing larger and larger as they went on, and the spaces of water less and less, until at last they disappeared altogether, and nothing could be seen but an immense plain of solid ice. The moon shone upon it brightly, and moving noiselessly over the surface were a number of almost transparent forms of men and women, with deadly white faces and cold glittering eyes. They never spoke, but moved about swiftly and silently. They fled at the sight of the fireball, but when they saw Jack some of them stopped and motioned to him to stop too.
“Who are they?” he asked.
“They are ice-people,” said his guide; “they live on the ice, and never speak, but always glide about as you see them now.”
“Why mayn’t we stop and see them?” said Jack.
His companion said nothing, but pointed down to where some dark heavy-looking figures lay motionless beneath the clear ice.
“Do you see?” he said. “These are the bodies of men and women whom the ice-people have caught and frozen to death. If any unfortunate ship is wrecked among the ice-blocks, the ice-people at once flock round it and seize the passengers, and carry them over here and freeze them. They are as wicked and cruel as the mermaids. If I were to leave you for only a second, you would be frozen, and nothing could save you. Now we are coming near the North Pole. Look over there.”
Jack looked away across the ice, and saw a clear pink light that darted up into the sky in bars. It seemed to come from a curious dark lump in the form of a mushroom, which stood up into the air.
“That is the North Pole,” said his friend, “and the light comes from the old man’s lantern.”
“Does he live there all alone?” asked Jack.
“All alone, and he quarrels with everyone. He used to be very good friends with the old man at the South Pole, and they often slid up and down the Pole to see each other. But one day they had a quarrel, and now they’re not on speaking terms.”
“What did they quarrel about?” inquired Jack.
“How should I know?” said the wind-fairy, a little crossly. “One really can’t be expected to remember all these little things;” for the wind-fairies cannot bear to be reminded of their want of memory. “Now say what you have to say to him quickly, and get it done, and then I’ll take you back.” So saying, he put him down on the ice, and sat down himself a little way off.
Jack looked about him, and began to think he must be dreaming. It was such a strange scene. All round was the clear cold ice, and just in front of him was the great lump in the form of a mushroom, made of some thick shining stuff like ivory, and seated right in the middle of it was a little old man. He nursed his knees with his arms and hugged a huge brown lantern full of holes, from which shot up into the air on each side the long bright pink rays which Jack had seen before. The old man wore a big brown cloak, and on his head a small skullcap, from beneath which fell his long straight white hair.
He was a very ugly old man; there was no doubt about that. His face was almost flat, and he had a large hooknose. He seemed to be asleep, for his head hung over on one side, and his eyes were shut. Jack dared not wake him, and stood watching him, He might have remained there forever; the old man would never have moved of himself, if the wind-fairy had not blown a tremendous gust, which made the pink light in the lantern flicker, and the old man start up and open his eyes and see Jack.
“And who are you?” he asked, in a deep rolling voice. “Come to ask a question, I am sure. No one ever comes to see me unless they want to ask something. Come nearer and let me see you.”
Jack drew near to the old man’s seat, trembling much. He tried to remember what the Princess had told him to say, but somehow or other it had gone out of his head, and he did not know how to begin.
“Now what is it?” asked the old man, with a low chuckle. “Do you want me to tell you how to grow tall and straight, or where to find a big bag of money to take home to your mother? What do you want? Speak out, and don’t be afraid.”
Again the naughty thoughts came back into Jack’s mind. He looked across to where the wind-fairy had fallen asleep on the ice. He gazed up at the pink light shining into the black sky. He thought of his mother, then of the poor fire Princess, and making a violent effort, and shutting his eyes that he might not see the grinning face of the old man, he said—
“I’m come from the fire Princess, Princess Pyra, and she wants to marry
