s," said Ted. "It's fine! I never saw anything like this
at home," pointing as he spoke to the scene in front of him.

A group of evergreen trees, firs and the Alaska spruce, so useful for
fires and torches, fringed the edge of the ice-field, green and verdant
in contrast to the gleaming snows of the mountain, which rose in a gentle
slope at first, then precipitously, in a dazzling and enchanting
combination of colour. It was as if some marble palace of old rose before
them against the heavens, for the ice was cut and serrated into spires
and gables, turrets and towers, all seeming to be ornamented with
fretwork where the sun's rays struck the peaks and turned them into
silver and gold. Lower down the ice looked like animals, so twisted was
it into fantastic shapes; fierce sea monsters with yawning mouths
seeming ready to devour; bears and wolves, whales, gigantic elephants,
and snowy tigers, tropic beasts looking strangely out of place in this
arctic clime.

Deep crevices cut the ice-fields, and in their green-blue depths lurked
death, for the least misstep would dash the traveller into an abyss which
had no bottom. Beyond the glacier itself, the snow-capped mountains rose
grand and serene, their glittering peaks clear against the blue sky,
which hue the glacier reflected and played with in a thousand glinting
shades, from purpling amethyst to lapis lazuli and turquoise.

As they gazed spellbound, a strange thing occurred, a thing of such
wonder and beauty that Ted could but grasp his father's arm in silence.

Suddenly the peaks seemed to melt away, the white ice-pinnacles became
real turrets, houses and cathedrals appeared, and before them arose a
wonderful city of white marble, dream-like and shadowy, but beautiful as
Aladdin's palace in the "Arabian Nights." At last Ted could keep silent
no longer.

"What is it?" he cried, and the old chief answered, gravely:

"The City of the Dead," but his father said:

"A mirage, my boy. They are often seen in these regions, but you are
fortunate in seeing one of the finest I have ever witnessed."

"What is a mirage?" demanded Ted.

"An optical delusion," said his father, "and one I am sure I couldn't
explain so that you would understand it. The queer thing about a mirage
is that you usually see the very thing most unlikely to be found in that
particular locality. In the Sahara, men see flowers and trees and
fountains, and here on this glacier we see a splendid city."