{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_69782/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_69782","id":"gutenberg_69782","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69782","summary":null,"tags":["Animals -- Juvenile fiction","Birds -- Juvenile fiction","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction","Christmas -- Juvenile fiction","Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction","Dreams -- Juvenile fiction","Fairy tales -- New Zealand","Fantasy literature","Geysers -- Juvenile fiction","M\u0101ori (New Zealand people) -- Juvenile fiction","Natural history -- Juvenile fiction","New Zealand -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"A Southern Cross Fairy Tale\n\n\n\n\n                                    A\n                              SOUTHERN CROSS\n                                FAIRY TALE\n\n                                    BY\n                            KATE McCOSH CLARK\n\n            _WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY R. ATKINSON AND THE AUTHOR_\n\n                                  LONDON\n                 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEALE & RIVINGTON\n                                _Limited_\n                           St. Dunstan\u2019s House\n                     FETTER LANE, FLEET STREET, E.C.\n                                   1891\n                         [_All rights reserved_]\n\n                                 LONDON:\n                PRINTED BY GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LIMITED,\n                   ST. JOHN\u2019S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL ROAD.\n\n\n\n\n                                    TO\n                            MY GODCHILD KITTY\n                                AND TO MY\n                        LITTLE NEPHEWS AND NIECES.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThe scenes of Christmas tales read by English-speaking children have\nbeen for the most part naturally laid amid winter, snow, and leafless\nlandscape. The Yule-log and the holly-berry have been time-honoured\n\u201cproperties.\u201d But there are, growing up under the Southern Cross,\ngenerations of children, with English speech and English hearts, to whom\nthe Yule-log at Christmas is unmeaning and the snow unknown.\n\nThe little story which follows is written for such children as these,\nand also for those in the older land who have any desire to know what\nChristmas is like among their kin on the other side of the world.\n\nWhile seeking to amuse, it is intended to convey pleasant information.\nNew Zealand is a land full of natural wonders and natural beauty; its\nvegetation and its fauna are every way remarkable. In the following\npages the allusions to these wonders and beauties, however playfully\nintroduced, are intended to be truthful. The colours and habits of plants\nand animals are in sober reality just what they are made to appear in\nfairy-land. The illustrations are from nature, and will, it is hoped,\nbear out the text. For the loan of certain birds and clear descriptive\nnotes upon them, I am deeply indebted to Mr. A. Reischek, F.L.S., the\nwell-known naturalist. The kind interest of Professor Thomas, M.A.,\nF.L.S., F.G.S., and the valuable notes given by him upon the Terraces,\nGeysers, &c., also lay me under much obligation.\n\n                                                                     K. C.\n\nAUCKLAND, _July, 1889_.\n\n\n\n\n\u201cTHE CHILDREN\u2019S HOUR.\u201d\n\n\n    The cawing rooks fly to their nests;\n      Again the song-birds hush their lay;\n    O\u2019er all the world a stillness rests,\n      And twilight shadows dance and play.\n    The book is closed, hands folded o\u2019er,\n      The work, that rests the while, undone;\n    See! glad young faces at the door,\n      And hark! the peals of mirth and fun.\n        Yes, \u2019tis the children\u2019s hour,\n        To waiting arms they run.\n\n    The little faces vie to press\n      Warm kisses on our willing lips,\n    While loving prayers, unspoken, bless\n      The sunny heads, and finger tips\n    Pass gently o\u2019er the cheek\u2019s soft bloom\u2014\n      That seems as stolen from the rose;\n    Then merry voices fill the room,\n      As round the fire-lit hearth we close,\n        For \u2019tis the children\u2019s hour,\n        Which nought but brightness knows.\n\n    \u201cPlay with us, play!\u201d Ah, yes, young hearts,\n      Well that your voices coax, and make\n    Us for awhile forget the smarts\n      Of striving day for your brief sake.\n    \u201cSing with us, sing!\u201d and youthful notes\n      Rise shrill in some time-hallowed strain.\n    Discord\u2014sweet discord round us floats,\n      And ageing hearts grow young again\u2014\n        It is the children\u2019s hour,\n        That knows nor care nor pain.\n\n    \u201cNow tell us stories, mother, dear!\u201d\n      How sweet the old and matchless word!\n    Sweeter than aught that else we hear\n      From children\u2019s lips. What memories stirr\u2019d\n    By that loved name rush o\u2019er the soul!\n      For sheltering arms we once more yearn\n    Now folded \u2019neath the grassy knoll.\n        Would that the children\u2019s hour\n        For her, too, could return.\n\n    \u201cCome, children, nestle close to me\n      And question with your lips and eyes,\n    For, as ye listen, I would see\n      The starting flush and sweet surprise\n    At tales of brownie and of fay\n      That hide within your favourite glen,\n    And \u2019neath the moonlight\u2019s flickering ray\n      Bring fairy gifts to slumbering men.\u201d\n        Sweet lore of children\u2019s hour,\n        Why need we further ken?\n\n    Ah! little ones, ye hold us fast\n      And thoughts of you like joy-bells chime\n    Around our lives, and link the past\n      And present in one long sweet rhyme.\n    And slumbering echoes wake anew,\n      For purity glows in your eyes,\n    And truth from out them shines so true\n      That from our hearts all falseness flies.\n        It is the children\u2019s hour\n        When purest thoughts arise.\n\n    The years roll by and leave their taint\n      Of sin upon us, and the weight\n    Of self-wrought grief, until we faint\n      Beneath the burden grown so great.\n    Fretted by sight of others\u2019 pain,\n      The voiceless suffering of the weak;\n    \u201cWherefore?\u201d we cry, but all in vain,\n      No answering oracle doth speak.\n        And in the children\u2019s hour\n        We fain for peace would seek.\n\n    Far off like some grand snowy height\n      That gleams anon through driving mist,\n    Some great End flashes on our sight;\n      And on that peak the sun hath kissed,\n    Could we but stand, thence gazing back\n      Perchance Heaven\u2019s echoes we might hear,\n    Perchance Heaven\u2019s light upon our track\n      Might show the good of every tear,\n        And in the children\u2019s hour\n        Life\u2019s riddles read more clear.\n\n    Speak to our hearts, each bright young heart,\n      Perfect in love and faith, and bid\n    Us know that e\u2019en as petals part\n      To breathe the fragrance \u2019neath them hid,\n    So do ye breathe around life\u2019s hours\n      The sweetness nought can steal away,\n    The sweetness of our cherished flowers.\n      Then ope bright blooms upon our way,\n        And make the children\u2019s hour\n        With beauty crown each day.\n\n    Play on, ye little ones, play on,\n      And cheer us with your guileless mirth;\n    Too soon your careless days are gone\n      And later years see sorrow\u2019s birth.\n    We love your bright eyes\u2019 merry glance,\n      We love your voices\u2019 gleesome ring;\n    To trip with you th\u2019 unrhythm\u2019d dance\n      Again doth childlike rapture bring.\n        It is the children\u2019s hour,\n        Sing on, ye children, sing.\n\n    Ye cradle our lost dreams anew,\n      Ye make love\u2019s echoes ceaseless sound,\n    And, if for some the stretching yew\n      O\u2019erguards a tiny daisied mound,\n    They have but laid their treasures where\n      God\u2019s angels tread with sacred feet;\n    They have but Heavenward sent a prayer\n      That, lisped before the mercy-seat,\n        In God\u2019s own children\u2019s hour\n        Shall win an answer sweet.\n\n                                                                     K. C.\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n                                                                      PAGE\n\n    Bell-Bird                                                            1\n\n    \u201cIt is Christmas Eve! and the long soft shadows of a summer\n      night are quickly falling on the garden, fields, and\n      meadows\u201d                                                _To face_  3\n\n    \u201cTake that,\u201d said Santa Claus; \u201cit will give you light in\n      the darkest places\u201d                                     _To face_  6\n\n    \u201cWe\u2019re sorry we\u2019re so big,\u201d said Hal                                13\n\n    Kiwi                                                                14\n\n    Parson-Bird or Tui                                                  15\n\n    Pied Fantail                                                        15\n\n    Brown Owl or More-pork                                              16\n\n    Crow                                                                17\n\n    Tuataras                                                            19\n\n    Vegetable Caterpillar                                               20\n\n    Robins                                                              22\n\n    Maori Hen                                                           23\n\n    White Heron                                                         25\n\n    \u201cThey are only Maories; and see, they are more frightened\n      of us than you are of them\u201d                             _To face_ 26\n\n    On the top of the geyser were shot out a troop of laughing gnomes   29\n\n    \u201cRun to the hill!\u201d cried Red Cap                          _To face_ 38\n\n    Kea                                                                 47\n\n    \u201cYou must have been dreaming, Hal!\u201d                       _To face_ 51\n\n\n\n\nA SOUTHERN CROSS FAIRY TALE.\n\n\n[Illustration: Bell-Bird.]\n\nIt is Christmas Eve! and the long soft shadows of a summer night are\nquickly falling on the garden, fields, and meadows of a New Zealand home.\nThe feathery edge of the forest-clad hills behind the house stands out\ndark against the yellow light still lingering in the west; undulating\ngrassy slopes creep down to where the graceful tree-ferns form a billowy\nmass of light and shade near the deep, dark creek, that divides the\nfields. The murmuring of the stream, in hidden depths below, rises like\na lullaby, while countless shrill crickets sing their merry carols amid\nthe trees. No sound of joyous bells is borne upon the air, as on the\nEnglish Christmas Eves of pleasant memory, only the Bell-bird\u2019s[1] chimes\nfrom the bush, and the distant cow-bell\u2019s tinkle mid the shadowy Manuka\nclumps, where sentinel cabbage-palms[2] up-raise their helmeted heads\nerect and stern. Fair is that house built up by English hands in the\nNew World; fair, not with the slowly gathered beauty of centuries gone\nby, the clinging ivy and the gaily painted lichens on the stones, but\nwith the quick rich growth of the southern lands. The quaint low wooden\ngables are wreathed with creepers of many a shade and hue, and over the\nbroad verandah and open casement doors, the scarlet passion-flowers gleam\nlike burning stars amid their masses of glossy leaves, and the green\negg-shaped fruit of its more modest cousin hang in rich profusion on\nthe trellised arbour near by, the scene of many a childish frolic and\nout-door tea-party. Sweet scents arise from the nooks of the garden which\nis left half wild, where many an English flower carefully tended, tells\nof hearts in which still cling fond memories of a childhood\u2019s home afar.\nThrough the sombre pines that edge the spreading lawn, are seen the last\nlong silvery streaks, quivering on the distant sea; overhead the busy\nstarlings flit to and fro, or, perching on some tapering branch, give\nforth their short-lived song, while, now and again, the harsh call of\nthe brown owl pierces the deepening shades. But suddenly is heard the\nsound of merry voices, and two little children run down the winding path\nleading to the house, then stop near to a rose-bed rich in bloom.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s Christmas Eve, you know, little Cis,\u201d said Hal, a merry\nstrong-limbed, dark-eyed boy between nine and ten years old, to his\nlittle sister who stood near.\n\nShe was a quaint little maid of seven in whose wavy golden hair one\nmight well think the summer sunbeams lingered; her large blue eyes,\ndark lashed, in her solemn moments looked like clear deep wells, but\ncould dance with light and laughter at a tale of fun. Hers was a sweet\nchild-nature \u201cso easily moved to smiles or tears,\u201d so full of sympathy\nwas her loving little heart.\n\n\u201cIt is Christmas Eve, you know, little Cis, and we must get some nice\nflowers to give mother to-morrow morning, mustn\u2019t we?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Hal, and I want to find a lot of dear little red rose-buds,\u2014oh!\nhere\u2019s one, and here\u2019s another, I\u2019m so glad!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy _red_ ones, Cis?\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2019Cos mother likes red ones, I know; she told me about the prickly tree\nwith red berries on it, which she used to gather bunches of at Christmas\ntime when she was a little girl like me,\u2014I expect she gave some to her\nmother, and I wonder if she pricked her fingers as I do mine\u2014never mind,\nI am not going to cry, Hal, because it\u2019s for mother. Do the thorns hurt\nyou, Hal?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Cis, but I am a boy you know, and boys don\u2019t cry; I am getting\nwhite rose-buds, because in mother\u2019s tales about Christmas, there is\nalways a lot of white snow. I wonder why God does not send us any snow\nhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps He will one day if we are naughty, for it kills all the pretty\nflowers,\u201d replied Cis.\n\n\u201cNo, it doesn\u2019t kill them all, Cis, it only covers them up; besides, it\u2019s\nrare fun to make snow-balls, they say.\u201d\n\n\u201cChildren, children!\u201d calls a voice from the open door, \u201cit is nearly\nbed-time.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, coming, mother dear,\u201d and the two bunches of flowers were quickly\nhidden beneath the little coat and pinafore, while the children ran round\nto a side door and gave them into the nurse\u2019s charge to put in water, and\nin a safe hiding place until the morning.\n\n\u201cPut them under our beds, Nursie, no one will see them there,\u201d shouted\nHal, as he rushed off with his sister to their mother for the good-night\nchat.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cIt is Christmas Eve! and the long soft shadows of a\nsummer night are quickly falling on the garden, fields and meadows.\u201d\n\nPage 3.]\n\nIn the well-known cosy room sat a slender figure in black, in a low\nwicker chair, and little Cis was already on her lap, her shining head\nnestled close in, her sweet face pressed to her mother\u2019s, which if older\nand sadder, was not less sweet. Hal, taking his favourite stool, sat down\nclose to her knee, and giving her hand a hasty boyish kiss, said: \u201cDon\u2019t\nsend us to bed just yet, mother dear, \u2019tis Christmas Eve, you know.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, yes! Christmas Eve,\u201d she echoed, and her trembling voice told of\nthe mingled memories that thronged her heart,\u2014memories of past joys and\nsudden sorrow. Her thoughts flew to that time, \u201conly a year ago,\u201d when\nthere came the hurried summons for her husband to a sick relative in a\ndistant land\u2014the hasty departure on the voyage,\u2014and then the blank of a\nterrible silence,\u2014and later, the tidings that she should see him no more\ntill \u201cthe sea gives up her dead,\u201d\u2014and, laying her hand on Hal\u2019s dark\nhead, she pressed her fatherless little ones closer to her.\n\n\u201cTell us a story, mother dear,\u201d broke in Hal\u2019s voice.\n\n\u201cSuppose you tell me one for a change, dear,\u201d she replied.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t think I can, mother, but I\u2019ll try,\u201d said Hal\u2019s determined tones,\n\u201cit will be very hard, but you\u2019ll help me, little Cis, when I stick,\nwon\u2019t you? Shall it be a real story or a made up one?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! a real one, Hal, it won\u2019t be so hard,\u201d said little Cis.\n\n\u201cAll right,\u201d replied Hal, \u201cjust wait a moment whilst I think,\u201d and the\nboy\u2019s face took an earnest, thoughtful expression not often seen on it,\nfor he was a light-hearted laddie full of the joy of a happy, careless\nchildhood.\n\n\u201cWe had three baby guinea-pigs this morning,\u201d began he musingly, \u201cbut, I\nsuppose I couldn\u2019t make a tale out of that,\u2014and the little white bantam\nwas drowned in the duck-pond, and Cis and I put it in a box with flowers\nand buried it under the apple-tree, but, I suppose that wouldn\u2019t do\neither;\u2014and the parrot bit my fingers dreadfully, and I\u2014no, I didn\u2019t cry,\nI only howled. Oh! mother, you tell a tale, I can\u2019t.\u201d\n\nThen a minute\u2019s silence followed, broken only by the purring of Hal\u2019s\nfavourite, the black cat \u201cSmut,\u201d who was rubbing against his master\u2019s\nleg, where the kneeless stocking told of the day\u2019s exploits.\n\nDarker grew the shadows in the long low room; the clock ticked on its\nmonotonous \u201cGone by! gone by!\u201d the faint whisper of the evening breeze\nthrough the pines came in at the window; the last rays died in the\nwest, and once again the evening star looked out from the darkening\nsky upon the mother, and the child within her arms\u2014a picture that in\nall its varied phases is as beauteous in our great to-day, as at that\nChristmas-time at Bethlehem in ages past. And little Cis, watching the\nshining star, raised her head from her mother\u2019s shoulder, and said in a\nhushed voice:\n\n\u201cDo you think the angels will come to-night, mother dear?\u201d\n\n\u201cAngels! why, little one?\u201d she replied.\n\n\u201cBecause there\u2019s the star, mother, and I think it must be the one you\ntold me about, that came when the angels sang, because it\u2019s, oh! so\nbeautiful! I should like them to come to-night; perhaps dear father will\nsend them. Do you think if we sat ever so still they _would_ fly down\nnear us? You know, when I sit down under the big trees up the hills for\na long time, the little birds fly down and close up their wings and come\nand look at me, and angels have wings, haven\u2019t they, mother dear? and so\nperhaps they will come.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d cried Hal, \u201cif they can fly about like that, Cis, I shouldn\u2019t like\nit to-night, for there are a lot of Christmas-plums ripe on the tree\nin the orchard, and if they come near I expect they would want them,\u2014I\nshould. But I didn\u2019t take any to-day, mother; we are saving them for\nto-morrow as you told us to do; I only sat down under the tree and picked\nup any that fell down. You know you told us not to run about when it was\nvery hot, so I thought if I was good and sat still, God would make some\nplums drop down. But, I say, mother, what sort of hat does God wear?\u201d\n\n\u201cHat, my boy! what do you mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, mother, you said I must keep my hat on these hot days or I\u2019d get\nsunstroke, and I\u2019m sure it must be dreadfully hot for God up in the sky;\nthere are no trees there to sit under.\u201d\n\nWhat merry laughter from little Cis followed Hal\u2019s remark, but his mother\nsaid quietly, \u201cHush, my boy, we must not speak lightly of Him whose ways\nare not as ours.\u201d Hal\u2019s merry face became thoughtful, and the children\nwere silent for a few moments; then the favourite tales were won from\nmother by many a caress,\u2014tales, of which the words fell on the children\u2019s\nears like the pleasant dropping of summer rain, bringing forth sweet\nflowers of thought, may be in later years to bear a precious fruit. Then\ncame the patter of little feet up the stairs, and merry chatter, as the\nstockings were hung up ready for Santa Claus; and then, when mother\ncame, there were murmurs of sleepy voices, as the two little white-robed\nfigures knelt with folded hands on their curtained beds, and lay down\nwith the last words of their childish prayer on their rosy lips\u2014\n\n    \u201cIn the Kingdom of Thy Grace,\n    Give a little child a place.\u201d\n\n\u201cA place!\u201d Aye, would that many an older child of earth could claim such\na place as His little ones have! Then, with mother\u2019s last \u201ctuck up\u201d and\ngood-night kiss, and one last look to make sure that the stockings were\nall right, silence fell on the little restless tongues, and closed the\nsleepy eyes.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was midnight, but no Christmas waits disturbed the stillness round the\nquiet house. The southern cross gleamed clear and bright in the dark blue\nheavens, and the moon sailed high, silvering the feathery clouds that\nhere and there floated across the star-lit depths, as though some angels\npassing by had left stray pinions there. The distant ocean had waked\nfrom its evening dreams with a thousand twinkling smiles; the tree-ferns\ntrembled beneath the moonbeams\u2019 soft caress; but, brighter than all\nothers were the rays that, creeping through the window to the white\ncurtained beds, kissed so lovingly the sweet faces lying there, lingering\nround the tumbled curls of little Cis, and on the dimpled arm thrown over\nher head, and crowning Hal\u2019s dark hair with a soft halo.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cTake that,\u201d said Santa Claus: \u201cit will give you light in\nthe darkest places.\u201d\n\nPage 6.]\n\nThen a clear voice broke the stillness of that summer night, making the\nchildren stir in their slumbers ... then, once again the silvery voice\nrang forth, \u201cWake up, little ones!\u201d\n\nAnd, starting up, Cis and Hal rubbed their eyes, and wonderingly gazed\naround.\n\nAnd there, where the moonbeams fell upon the floor, stood a lad with a\nsmiling face, and on his head was a crown of twinkling stars, and beneath\nthe stars these words shone, \u201cI bring good gifts to all.\u201d A robe of\ndeepest blue hung down in soft shimmering folds near to his feet; and in\nhis hand was a wand, on the tip of which shone the evening star.\n\nThen Hal, without fear, though in a dreamy voice, asked, \u201cPlease are you\na fairy, little man?\u201d\n\nAnd Cis in a low voice added, \u201cIt\u2019s the Angel of the Stars!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, little ones,\u201d said he, \u201cI am neither a fairy nor an angel; I am only\nSanta Claus.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, I thought Santa Claus was an old man,\u201d said Hal.\n\n\u201cSo I am, in the Old World,\u201d replied he, \u201cbut here, in the New World, I\nam young like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d exclaimed Hal, \u201cwhere are your reindeer, and where\u2019s the sleigh\nwith all the good things in it I always thought you brought? Because it\nwon\u2019t be fair if you don\u2019t give us anything. It\u2019s Christmas Eve, you\nknow, and we have put our stockings ready for you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have left my reindeer and the snow and frost in the Old World,\u201d said\nSanta Claus; \u201cbut never fear, I have not forgotten you and little Cis;\nmy wand, with the star of Love on it, is better than my sleigh full of\npresents. But come along, little ones; dress quickly, for I am going to\ntake you where many wonderful things are waiting to be seen by bright\nyoung eyes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right; I am ready,\u201d cheerily replied Hal.\n\nBut little Cis said, \u201cI don\u2019t know, Hal; what will mother say! Mayn\u2019t I\ngo and tell her, Mr. Santa Claus?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo need, little Cis; she knew I was coming to you to-night.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, it\u2019s all right,\u201d said Hal eagerly, \u201ccome, dress quickly, Cis, we\nshall see lots of wonderful things, and bring some back to mother too.\u201d\n\nSo the children dressed, and, led by their guide, went hand in hand with\nlight steps down the stairs and out into the moonlit world.\n\nHow beautiful it looked! The drooping grasses shone with drops of dew;\nthe tall white lilies gleamed fair as the driven snow; a white-tailed\nrabbit skipped across their path and then peered with bright eyes at\nthem from high bracken; a solitary night-bird chirped out its sleepy\nnotes; but as the children, led by Santa Claus, came near to the creek,\nthe voice of the stream sang out cheerily. A mossy trunk lay across the\nwaters, and Santa Claus stepped lightly along it, followed by Hal, who\nheld the hand of little Cis tightly in his, and, guiding her, went across\nthe slippery bridge.\n\n\u201cIt _is_ dark down here,\u201d murmured Cis, as they stepped on the bank where\nhigh fern-trees and thick bushes shaded the gully.\n\nTurning round, Santa Claus placed in Hal\u2019s hand the wand whereon so\nbrightly shone the star of Love. \u201cTake that,\u201d he said, \u201cit will give\nyou light in the darkest places;\u201d and, as the light from the star fell\naround, the black waters danced and gleamed, and the dark mosses shone.\n\n\u201cPlease do stop a little while, here, Mr. Santa Claus,\u201d begged Hal, \u201cI\nwant so much to have a look at that big carp I saw the other day in the\npool,\u201d and, as he spoke, the fish, his gold and silver scales glittering\nin the light, came near, and amid the rippling of the waters the children\nheard a little voice singing:\u2014\n\n[Illustration: THE SONG of the CARP.\n\n    \u201cHere in the cool waters\n    Who will catch me now?\n    Come, ye children, twine ye\n    Green weeds round your brow.\n\n    \u201cPlay ye while the shallows\n    Sunny are and bright,\n    Sing ye while the still depths\n    Dance with sparkling light.\n\n    \u201cLittle streams flow onward,\n    On by moor and lea.\n    Singing ever brightly,\n    Gay their life and free.]\n\n[Illustration:\n\n    \u201cWhen they join the river\n    Silenced is their song,\n    Slow and dark the current,\n    Rough the way and long.\n\n    \u201cIn the mighty ocean\n    All are lost at last,\n    All the play-time over!\n    All the singing past!\n\n    \u201cSo play ye while the shallows\n    Sunny are and bright,\n    And sing ye while the still depths\n    Dance with sparkling light.\u201d]\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t we catch him, Mr. Santa Claus?\u201d shouted Hal, \u201cI should like that\nfellow, for he talks like a book!\u201d\n\nBut the fish only waved his tail and glided down the stream.\n\nThen their guide beckoned them forwards, and Cis, wondering, asked, \u201cDid\nyou make the fish speak, Mr. Santa Claus?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, little Cis,\u201d answered he, \u201cand the gift I bring you and Hal this\nnight, is the gift that makes you know and understand Nature\u2019s many\nvoices.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes any one else know them?\u201d asked Hal.\n\n\u201cYes, children, to some pure and simple souls the gift is given through\nlife to interpret them to man; and sometimes to the aged and the weak\nit is granted to find strength anew, in flowery woods and birds\u2019 and\ninsects\u2019 song;\u2014to you, ye little ones, Nature shall to-night speak out in\nclearest voices, to echo in your hearts perchance in years to come.\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope he isn\u2019t going to preach,\u201d whispered Hal to his sister, \u201cI shan\u2019t\nlike him half so much if he does.\u201d Then he added aloud, \u201cI don\u2019t quite\nunderstand you, Mr. Santa Claus, but never mind, I don\u2019t understand the\nsermons our old clergyman preaches; mother says it is good to try and\nlisten, but I think they forget about the little children in church!\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps the preacher does not know we are there, Hal, we are so little,\nyou know,\u201d added Cis in an apologetic tone, \u201cand there is a long way\nbetween us and the pulpit.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps so,\u201d said Hal absently, for he was wondering if he could put his\nStar of Love over the pulpit on Christmas Day; it would make a bright\nlight, and perhaps the preacher would remember them then,\u2014and he added\naloud, \u201cBut if he did remember us, Cis, I expect he\u2019d be cross if we\ndidn\u2019t sit _quite_ still, as I heard him say one day we ought.\u201d\n\n\u201cI suppose it is such a long time since he was a little child, that he\nforgets how hard it is,\u201d said little Cis.\n\nBut by this time they had got out of the thickest part of the bush, and\nwere walking along a little winding path near a precipice. On the upper\nside was a bank from which dainty ferns hung their graceful fronds, and\nbeneath them, on the moss, the tiny lamps of myriad glow-worms shone\nlike specks of fire. As the children stopped to gaze, they heard the\nglow-worms singing:\u2014\n\n    \u201cChildren of the earth are we,\n      Small and brown and ill to see;\n    But we can make our lamps at night\n      In dreary places show their light.\n    Travellers oft might miss the way,\n      Warned we not their footsteps back,\n    When upon the narrow track\n      Near the precipice they stray.\n    Children of the earth are we,\n      Small and brown and ill to see;\n    Still our tiny lamps we trim;\n      Children, let not yours grow dim!\u201d\n\n\u201cWe have got no lamps, you stupid little glow-worms,\u201d said Hal, \u201cunless\nyou call this Star of Love that we carry a lamp. But couldn\u2019t you sing\nsomething more lively to us?\u201d he added. Then the glow-worms brightened up\nand sang to a merry tune:\u2014\n\n    \u201cOh! stay, ye children, stay,\n      And listen to our song,\n    For childhood\u2019s hour is short,\n      And manhood\u2019s day is long.\n    Come, see our fairy haunts,\n      And we will light the way;\n    Come, join the merry dance,\n      And dance till break of day.\u201d\n\n\u201cPlease may we go to the dance, Mr. Santa Claus?\u201d begged Hal; their guide\nnodded assent, and they watched the glow-worms form into a long line, two\nand two, and creep between two high moss-grown rocks.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s all very well to say \u2018come,\u2019\u201d remarked Hal, \u201cbut how are we to get\nthrough that place, I should like to know?\u201d\n\n\u201cHold Love\u2019s wand high overhead,\u201d answered Santa Claus, \u201cand much that is\ndifficult will be made easy.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, dear! he has begun preaching again,\u201d cried Hal, but he held the\nstar over his own and his sister\u2019s head, and, pushing some overhanging\nbrambles aside, they found that they could easily go where the glow-worms\nled.\n\nOn, on went the long procession of shining lights, and the little voices\nwere heard, now faint, now clear:\u2014\n\n    \u201cCome, see the fairy haunts.\n      And we will light the way;\n    Come, join the merry dance,\n      And dance till break of day.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: \u201cWe\u2019re sorry we\u2019re so big,\u201d said Hal.]\n\nAnd soon what a sight met the eyes of the children! In an open space\nsurrounded by high trees, on a bright ring of green grass, a number of\nlittle fairies were dancing, their tiny twinkling feet scarcely seeming\nto touch the lightly bending blades. And what merry music! a band of\nlocusts with their shining wings beat tunes upon the brown tree-trunks;\nbig night-moths hummed their low songs, and drowsy beetles droned\nfitfully, while from the trees o\u2019erhead the bell-birds rang their clear\nhigh notes. It was a gala night, and birds and insects had come to join\nin the dance.\n\nOn a branch near by sat a small brown owl, round-eyed and solemn, beating\nwith a raupo stem the time, which no one tried to keep. \u201cToo fast, stop\nthem!\u201d cried he, in his harsh, cold voice; but no one took any notice\nexcept the Tui in a bush, who repeated his words;\u2014and the music played,\nand the dancers danced as madly as before.\n\n[Illustration: Kiwi.]\n\nThen, out from the dark wood there came a motley throng; bright\ngolden-eyed green lizards, their long tails waving like shining\nriver-weeds; sleek-coated rats, and solemn Maori hens; fat caterpillars\nwaddling through the grass, and snorting kiwis[3] following close behind;\nwhile sombre-coloured crows and starlings tripped on in pairs.\n\nNow, by the laws of fairy-land, no bird could feed upon insects so long\nas the night revels were kept up; nevertheless the caterpillars did not\nfeel quite comfortable, for many a sly poke they got to \u201churry up\u201d from\nthe kiwis\u2019 long bills, with which these birds gave disappointed snaps, as\nthey saw such tempting morsels near by.\n\nThen came whole families of green parrakeets, proudly holding up their\nred-crested heads, and chattering all the scandal of the forest;\nblack-feathered Tuis[4] with their white neckties cleanly washed; tiny\nFantails,[5] their fans spread out, for the night was warm: and Robins\ntoo, were there, some in dark grey garb, and some in black with yellow\nand white breast-fronts newly smoothed;\u2014and as the fresh comers appeared,\nthe music struck up with renewed vigour, and the glow-worms, nodding,\nmade their lamps burn brighter still.\n\n[Illustration: Parson-bird or Tui.]\n\nAll were soon joining in the dance,\u2014fairies, birds and insects, and Hal\nand Cis, seeing Santa Claus sit down under a tree-fern, joined too.\n\n\u201cWe\u2019re sorry we are so big,\u201d said Hal, \u201cbut Cis and I will try and not\nknock any of you over. Would you mind tucking your tail up under your\narm?\u201d he said to a young lady lizard near whom he was dancing in a waltz.\n\u201cAllow me to help you;\u201d and help he did, for the tail came off in his\nhand! \u201cI beg your pardon,\u201d said Hall.\n\n[Illustration: Pied Fantail.]\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t mention it, tails always grow quickly, you know,\u201d replied the\nlizard with a laugh, as she skipped gaily on.\n\n\u201cPlease, Mr. Kiwi, would you oblige me by dancing on two legs instead of\nthree,\u201d asked little Cis, for the Kiwi was her partner, and was using his\nbill as a support, and often pricked her toes.\n\n\u201cYou don\u2019t know what you are talking about,\u201d said he in a huff, \u201cit\u2019s my\nbill! but perhaps you don\u2019t know what a bill is!\u201d\n\n[Illustration: Brown Owl or More-pork.]\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve only heard mother say that no one likes long bills,\u201d said little\nCis.\n\nAt this the Kiwi snorted contemptuously, and left her, and the brown\nowl,[6] seeing something was wrong, thought it must be the music, and\nshouted out, \u201cToo fast! stop them!\u201d but no one took any heed, for he was\nonly an old croaker, and could not be expected to keep pace with the\nyoung people. So he dropped his raupo-stem, and sulked on the bough.\nSoon afterwards the band stopped, and some strange flute-like notes were\nheard in the distance.\n\nThe Tui called out excitedly, \u201cMake haste! take your places if you want\nto see the Gavotte, here comes the great dancer of the evening!\u201d and all\nthe birds and fairies hurried to get good places on the branches near by,\nwhile caterpillars and lizards stood up on their tails. Then out from the\nthick underwood came two crows,[7] proudly strutting side by side; the\nmale bird took his place upon a straight leafless branch, well in sight\nof all the expectant throng, while the female bird sat down on a fallen\nmossy bough, where she could see her mate.\n\n[Illustration: Crow.]\n\nThen he began the Gavotte, and what a lively performance it was! up and\ndown, up and down the branch, springing, pirouetting, tail and wings\nout-spread, with many a fanciful step and flourish, danced the crow right\nmerrily to his own sweet gurgling music. Truly he was a mate worthy\nof the little wife he had won by his dancing at pairing time; she was\nsitting near, watching, and when the dance was ended he looked down at\nher proudly, while the on-lookers applauded.\n\n\u201cCapital! capital!\u201d shouted little Cis and Hal, clapping, and the Tui\noverhead echoed their words.\n\n\u201cHow nice to have a husband who can dance and sing so well!\u201d said one of\nthe parrakeets.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said the lady crow, \u201cit is nice, of course, but there are other\nthings to be considered in choosing a husband; still he is a good one on\nthe whole, though sometimes I should like to join in the whistling and\ndancing, too. Let us have a dance all together now!\u201d she added, and the\nowl, having got over his fit of the sulks, asked for his raupo stem to be\nhanded to him again, and started the music afresh.\n\nThe crow, offended by his wife\u2019s remarks, chose another partner for a\nwhile, but Cis, watching, saw that he soon went back to her, and a little\nlater on the pair slipped away into the wood together, so she supposed\nthey had made up their tiff.\n\nThen the dancers took a rest, for they were all rather tired.\n\n\u201cOh, look!\u201d said the grey robin, who was still sitting on the bush near\nCis, \u201cthere are the Tuataras; what a wonder it is for them to come and\nsee us. How do you do?\u201d called out the bird, at the same time nodding his\nhead condescendingly to two large stone-coloured lizards with a row of\nwhite spines down their backs, who glided into the open space, and, lying\ndown on some stones, watched the scene with solemn bright eyes.\n\n\u201cThey did not answer you!\u201d said Cis, \u201cdo they never speak?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot often to us,\u201d replied the bird, \u201cthey are too proud of their old\nfamily to talk to ordinary dwellers in the forest; those two must have\ncome a long way to visit us to-night, for, some years ago, the Tuataras\nsaid they did not like the fast ways of the inhabitants of this part\nof the country, and they all retired to an island off the coast, where\ntheir only companions are the mutton-birds who live in holes in the\nground;\u2014and, I think, it is so mean of the lizards, they share the\nmutton-birds\u2019 holes, and then often feed upon their young ones.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not the Tuataras[8] get any food themselves?\u201d asked Cis.\n\n\u201cYes, at night,\u201d replied the robin, \u201cthey only go out then; _I_ think\nthere must be something wrong when people always do things in the dark,\ndo not you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not know,\u201d said Cis, \u201cperhaps they have reasons we do not\nunderstand.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy mother was told by a learned man that the Tuataras have _three_\neyes,\u201d continued the bird.\n\n\u201cIf so, they can see more than other people, and that is why they look so\nwise,\u201d said little Cis.\n\n\u201cPerhaps so,\u201d replied the bird, \u201cbut none of us have ever seen the third\neye, and it is funny where it can be.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you looked carefully you would find it on the top of our heads,\u201d\nsaid the mellow voice of a Tuatara who had evidently been listening;\n\u201cour ancestors were great star-gazers, but we have given up that sort of\nnonsense, we find it quite enough to attend to things on the earth, so\nwe all agreed to shut one eye; it is best to do so sometimes,\u201d added the\nlizard musingly.\n\n[Illustration: Tuataras.]\n\n\u201cIndeed!\u201d said the robin, and he put his head on one side and looked very\nunbelieving.\n\nJust then two cockroaches, more curious than the rest, ran up the stones\nnear where the lizards sat, who, suddenly turning their heads, seized and\nswallowed them.\n\nHow indignant all the birds and insects were at this transgression of\nthe laws of fairy-land, and loud cries arose from all sides of \u201cShame!\nshame!\u201d\n\n\u201cPeck out their eyes!\u201d cried the Kiwi, who had, however, been thinking he\nshould like a meal himself.\n\n\u201cOff with their tails!\u201d croaked a bright green frog.\n\n\u201cOff with their tails!\u201d repeated the Tui in a shrill voice.\n\nBut the Tuataras, hearing the noise, glided down from the stones into the\nfern; Hal and the birds went after them, but the lizards were soon lost\nto sight in a hole.\n\n\u201cWe shall have to give it up,\u201d said Hal, \u201cwe could not get them out of\nthat hole except by digging; let us go back to the others:\u201d so they\nreturned, and Hal, sitting down by Santa Claus, said, \u201cThis is all great\nfun,\u2014I wonder when they will begin dancing again, I never enjoyed a dance\nso much before.\u201d\n\nA stout caterpillar,[9] who sat near, and was troubled with asthma,\noverhearing this, put in his word. \u201cIt is only because you are young that\nit all seems so good; wait till you are old and stout like me, and you\nwon\u2019t be so mad at dancing!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you will be a lovely butterfly by-and-by,\u201d added little Cis.\n\n[Illustration: Vegetable Caterpillar.]\n\n\u201cNot I!\u201d said the caterpillar, \u201cI would not be anything so flighty.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are you going to do, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cI mean to retire to some quiet spot on the earth,\u201d said the caterpillar,\n\u201cand be of some use in the world. I have heard that some of my brothers\nwho have buried themselves grew after a while into plants which are much\nsought for and valued, and I intend to try it too, I admire variety, for\nwhat is the good of being one of the common herd, I should like to know?\u201d\nand the caterpillar stopped, panting, for it was a long speech for him\nwith his short breath.\n\n\u201cI should do what other caterpillars do, if I were you,\u201d said little Cis\nthoughtfully, \u201cfor I\u2019ve heard that the hearts of those caterpillars you\nspeak of, get harder and harder, till, when the plant grows from them,\nthey turn into wood, too, and die.\u201d\n\n\u201cMay be! may be! but I don\u2019t care what people say,\u201d replied he in\nimpatient husky tones, as he turned away and began to dig in the earth\nunder a big rata-tree as quickly as he could.\n\n\u201cToo fast, stop him!\u201d shouted the brown owl.\n\n\u201cHold your tongue!\u201d cried the caterpillar, \u201cwhat do you know about it?\nWho asked you to preach?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! don\u2019t quarrel!\u201d said the gentle voice of little Cis; \u201clet me give\nyou a little more light, Mr. Caterpillar, if you _will_ bury yourself,\u201d\nand she ran and picked up Hal\u2019s wand, and threw the light of Love\u2019s Star\non the old grubber. The owl above only blinked, and said in surly tones\nthat he knew he was right, and he wished people wouldn\u2019t try to throw\nlight on his eyes.\n\nLittle Cis, being left by her partner, sat down on a mossy bank, and was\nwatching the rest, when she heard some twittering notes near, and looking\ndown saw two little birds close to her feet, one all grey, one grey with\na yellow breast, their bright eyes twinkling, their little tails wagging.\n\n\u201cWe thought you looked lonely,\u201d said the grey bird, \u201cso we have come to\ntalk to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are your names, little birds?\u201d said Cis.\n\n\u201cWe are robins,\u201d[10] said they.\n\n\u201cRobins, are you?\u201d replied little Cis, \u201cwhy, mother used to tell me that\nrobins had red breasts.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! so I\u2019ve heard it said they have on the other side of the world,\u201d\nreplied the grey bird, who seemed to be the greater talker of the two,\n\u201cbut we don\u2019t care for so much red, as everything else here is so bright,\nour family only go in for quiet colours; it\u2019s more ladylike. What do you\nthink of our ball?\u201d he added, and then continued, \u201cI don\u2019t care much for\ndancing myself; I like afternoon-teas better. I am very fond of company,\nand one hears all the news of the country-side at a tea-party; it is much\nmore sociable too.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps so,\u201d said little Cis in a doubtful voice, for she had only been\nto dolls\u2019 tea-parties, and no one talked there.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d went on the grey robin, \u201cthere are three charming parrakeets, who\nlive in a wood near by, and they sometimes give afternoon teas, and,\nreally, it is as good as reading a newspaper to hear all the tales told\nof the neighbours.\u201d\n\n\u201cKind tales?\u201d asked Cis.\n\n\u201cWell, I don\u2019t exactly know,\u201d said the grey robin, \u201cbut that doesn\u2019t\nmatter; the parrakeets[11] say the great thing is to have something to\ntalk about.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: Robins.]\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t say that,\u201d put in the yellow-breasted robin, \u201cthe old owl tells us\nnever to repeat an unkind thing; it is only the busy-bodies of the Tui\nfamily who do that, and they often whistle the tales they hear so badly,\nthat you\u2019d scarcely know them to be the same.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps they can\u2019t help it, you know,\u201d remarked little Cis; \u201cit is not\nevery one who has a good ear; and, besides, Tuis talk so much, that they\ncan\u2019t have much time to think about what they say. I don\u2019t expect they\nmean to alter things. Mother told me never to tell any but good tales of\nHal, but it is difficult sometimes when he teases me,\u201d and little Cis\nsighed.\n\n\u201cI think this is a very nice ball with you to talk to,\u201d said the grey\nrobin; \u201cdo you mind if we stay near you?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, no, I shall like it,\u201d replied Cis; so the robins perched on a bush\nclose by, and with their heads on one side eyed the dancers (who had\nstarted afresh), and they now and again added their sweet low notes to\nthe music.\n\n\u201cWe don\u2019t sing much,\u201d said they, \u201cbut we like to do our best to make\nthings lively.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: Maori hen.]\n\nJust then, such a scuffling was heard in the long grass, that Cis\njumped up to see what was the matter, and there were two Maori hens[12]\nfighting over some bright buttons, tied together with string, which Hal\nhad thrown down. They were jumping round and round each other in the\nmaddest excitement, heads and short tails bobbing, and wings flapping.\nThe brown owl cried, \u201cToo fast, stop them!\u201d but the music and the noise\ndrowned his voice. At last the fatter of the two hens stopped a minute to\nget breath, and the other, seizing its opportunity, gave an extra tug,\nand carried off the buttons under the bushes. The fat hen ran after as\nfast as possible, calling out, \u201cStop thief! stop thief!\u201d then they both\ndisappeared in the bushes.\n\nLittle Cis thought she heard a parrot on a tree overhead call out\nsomething about \u201cThe pot calling the kettle black,\u201d but as she did not\nsee any signs of cooking near, she thought she must be mistaken.\n\nMeanwhile, Hal had been gossiping with the birds and insects, and\nhearing many tales of fun and frolic in the greenwood, and many too of\nhair-breadth escapes from hard-hearted hunters and cruel boys.\n\n\u201cDo you know I am uncommonly hungry,\u201d said Hal, coming up to where Santa\nClaus was watching. Hal had a little fairy with lovely gauze wings\nperched on each of his shoulders, and he added, \u201cAnd these little friends\nof mine are thirsty too, and all the flowers are shut up, so they can\u2019t\nget any dew; it really is too bad for them to close so early.\u201d\n\nAt a nod from Santa Claus the birds flew off, and quickly returned with\nnumberless fruits and berries; huge mushroom-tables sprang up rapidly,\nand soon were bending with the weight of the good things. Blue-bells held\nout their cups of sparkling dew to all, and the Tui and the Bell-bird\nrevelled in honey, pure and golden, which the small wild-bees brought.\n\nThe fairies lightly perched on toadstools and the blades of grass, and\nwere gallantly waited upon by long-legged spiders, whilst the birds vied\nwith each other in paying attentions to little Cis.\n\nLong and merry was the feast, only the Kiwi sat grumpily by, and, eyeing\nsome curled-up earthworms, sniffed and said that there was nothing\nfor him to eat. But alas! old Time stays not his flight, even in the\nbrightest hours, and Santa Claus, pointing to the moon sinking low in the\nsky, the happy revel ceased, and good-byes were said. The fairies winged\ntheir flight to hide in the flowers\u2019 sweet hearts; the insects sought\ntheir secret haunts in rugged bark and crannied soil; the birds flew off\nto their leafy homes, except the Kiwi, and he could not, having no wings,\npoor fellow! so he scuttled quickly about, hunting around for food, but\nalas! the earthworms and grubs had already hidden in the mossy soil, or\nbeneath the dead leaves.\n\n\u201cGone! gone!\u201d snorted the disappointed bird, hungry and cross, \u201cand hard\nwork I shall have to dig them out.\u201d\n\n\u201cToo fast, stop them!\u201d excitedly shrieked the brown owl, who was\nwatching some caterpillars waddling off as quickly as they could.\n\n[Illustration: White Heron.]\n\n\u201cWhat is the good of saying that?\u201d asked the Tui, \u201cI shan\u2019t imitate\nyou anymore. It is not likely the caterpillars, if they heard you,\nwould stop to be eaten to please you. I\u2019m off to the bush, near the\nstream,\u201d continued the Tui, \u201cwhere the white heron[13] is bringing up\nher aristocratic family in her nest in the tree-fern, I shall get some\nconversation worth listening to with her, for she\u2019s a lady of education,\nand does not mix with every one!\u201d and the Tui flew off.\n\n\u201cI say, old fellow,\u201d called out Hal to the owl, \u201cthat was rather hard on\nyou. I\u2019d change my tune if I were you, I think.\u201d\n\nThe owl put his brown head on one side, looked very wise for a moment,\nthen shouted out at the top of his shrill voice, \u201cMore pork! more pork!\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m afraid I can\u2019t oblige you,\u201d laughed Hal, \u201cbut if you\u2019ll go farther\ninto the bush you might tackle a few wild pigs if you like.\u201d\n\n\u201cI expect he means \u2018more mice,\u2019\u201d said little Cis; \u201cperhaps he\u2019s getting\nold, poor thing!\u201d\n\nBut the owl shouted out \u201cMore pork! more pork!\u201d and does so to this day.\n\n\u201cCome, children,\u201d said Santa Claus, \u201cI have more wonderful things to\nshow you before the sun rises;\u201d and he led them out of the forest and\nup a hill, from the brow of which they looked on a plain broken by deep\ngullies and bounded afar by dark mountain ranges. Scattered trees loomed\nvast and unreal in the misty light, and the children walked on silently,\nalmost wishing they were at home again, but yet curious to know what else\nSanta Claus had to show them. Suddenly a miserable little cur ran out of\nthe bushes, barking, and amidst the manuka and cabbage-trees they saw\na raupo whare. Grotesque heads carved upon the gable and on the corner\nposts of the low roof grinned hideously at Hal and Cis, and they were\nvery startled when some dark figures, wrapped in loose mats, ran out\nhastily, looking big and weird in the dim and uncertain light.\n\n\u201cThey are not giants, are they?\u201d whispered little Cis in a timid tone.\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d replied Hal, \u201cthey are only Maories; and see, they are more\nfrightened of us than you are of them.\u201d\n\nThe Maories, indeed, on seeing Santa Claus, his starry crown shining like\na halo round his head, and Hal, whose face was lighted up by the Star of\nLove which he carried, were terrified, and uttering loud cries of \u201cAue!\nAue!\u201d they rushed back into their hut.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cThey are only Maories; and see, they are more frightened\nof us than you are of them.\u201d\n\nPage 26.]\n\n\u201cWhy do they run away from us?\u201d asked Cis.\n\n\u201cThey, no doubt, thought we were spirits,\u201d answered Santa Claus; \u201cMaories\nare very much afraid of their dead grandfathers and grandmothers,\u201d added\nhe, laughing.\n\n\u201cI wonder why that is,\u201d said Hal, \u201cI should have thought they would be\nglad to see the people again who are kind and good, as grandfathers and\ngrandmothers always are.\u201d\n\nBy this time they had gone some little distance past the whare, and at\nthe bottom of the hill they came to a narrow valley,[14] the sides of\nwhich were clad with a luxuriant growth of feathery manuka, so white with\nits numberless small blossoms, that in the faint light that comes before\nthe summer dawn, the valley looked as though a snowstorm had passed over\nit. From hidden places amongst the shrubs, thick curling steam arose, now\nhiding the trees and bushes, and even veiling the faint stars above for a\nfew seconds, then melting into thin air, leaving a warm dripping moisture\non everything around. Mysterious hissing noises filled the air, and ever\nand anon the earth shook as though with fear.\n\nThe wondering, half-frightened children, tightly clasping each other\u2019s\nhands, followed Santa Claus along the steep, zig-zag path that led down\nto the bottom of the valley; then, feeling the ground warm beneath her\nfeet, little Cis said, \u201cI am so frightened, Mr. Santa Claus, please may\nwe go back?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I think we _ought_ to go back,\u201d added Hal, \u201cfor it must be getting\nnear breakfast-time now.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not be afraid, children, I will take care of you,\u201d replied Santa\nClaus, \u201cand I have such wonderful things to show you.\u201d\n\nReassured by his kind voice, the children followed, keeping close\ntogether; Hal, with one arm round Cis, and with the other holding the\nStar of Love high above their heads, as they followed the path to the\nbottom of the valley. There they saw a stream rippling along; clear as\ncrystal were its waters, and its banks covered with drooping ferns and\ntender mosses. Little Cis, stooping to gather some of the ferns, dipped\nher hand into a pool of water near by, and cried out, \u201cWhy, Hal, it\u2019s\nquite hot!\u201d\n\nYes, hot it was, and the steam itself still hotter, while amid the\nbushes, countless merry little springs bubbled up, boiling, from basins\nof yellow and pink stone.\n\n\u201cWhy, it smells exactly like lucifer matches,\u2014do they make them here,\nMr. Santa Claus?\u201d asked Hal, looking at the bright yellow sulphur on the\nground.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d laughed Santa Claus, \u201cbut I think they might.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall bring our cook here,\u201d went on Hal, \u201cshe needn\u2019t have a fire at\nall to cook our meals or to wash our clothes.\u201d And he looked down into\nthe clear steaming pool close by, edged with crumbling, many-coloured\nsoil, and around, and even within which, delicate ferns were growing.\n\nBut Santa Claus\u2019 starry crown was already shining faint on the pathway\nahead, and the children tripped on lightly after him.\n\nWhat lovely fairy glens they saw at each turn of the little path,\ncarpeted with soft, bright green, and overhung with tender foliage,\nand Cis wished it were midnight that she might see the fairies dance.\nWhat fairy ball-rooms, too, with floors of pale pink marble, and pretty\nstreamlets of warm water trickling near, for tired feet to paddle in!\n\nBut Santa Claus had stopped, and the children hurried up to his side,\nand there, in the midst of the thick bushes, they saw a small lake of\nclearest blue, and to its edge sloped down a gleaming floor of white, and\nthe trees that drooped near to the water\u2019s edge shone white, as though a\nhoar-frost had silvered each trunk and tiny twig.\n\n\u201cOh! how lovely!\u201d cried little Cis. \u201cIs this like the snow in England,\nMr. Santa Claus?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot quite,\u201d he answered, \u201cthough it is as beautiful. But listen, little\nones!\u201d\n\nAnd as he spoke a chorus of voices was heard, faint, as though from the\nbowels of the earth, and then a low rumbling noise was followed by a\nmighty burst of steam from a hole a little way off, and on the top of it\nwere shot out a troop of laughing gnomes.\n\n[Illustration: On the top of the geyser were shot out a troop of laughing\ngnomes.]\n\nWhat funny little fellows they looked, with their long yellow legs, short\nbodies, and merry round faces beneath their yellow hats of all shapes\nand sizes. With many wild antics and strange capers they danced round the\nblue lake, singing:\u2014\n\n    \u201cHa, ha! ha, ha! how jolly is life,\n    We know no care, we know no strife;\n    We dance, we sing, and merrily play\n    The long night through; and then by day\n    We work, we delve in the ground below,\n    And make Earth\u2019s fountains merrily flow.\n    We feed the fires, till the cold streams boil;\n    We spare no trouble, we spare no toil,\n    We make the dark pools bubble and hiss,\n    Till the waters leap up the trees to kiss,\n    With a roar, and a whirr, and a rush so high,\n    That the bright drops sparkle and dance in the sky,\n    Then fall with a soft tra la la! tra la la!\n    And we laugh as they fall, ha, ha! ha, ha!\u201d\n\nThen all the little gnomes, headed by Red Cap, their leader, jumped with\nmerry shouts and laughter into the clear warm pool near by.\n\nThe children watched them for awhile, then Cis wandered off, picking up\nbits of petrified ferns and sticks out of a hot bubbling pool, and choice\npieces of yellow sulphur, which, when broken off the steaming ground,\nshowed myriads of sparkling crystals, and kind Santa Claus packed all her\ntreasures in soft moss in a bag which he carried on his back.\n\nMeanwhile, Hal envied the merry bathers, and as they called out to him to\n\u201ccome, too,\u201d he quickly threw off his clothes and jumped into the little\nlake.\n\nHow glorious it was! The hot bubbling waters, the clear crystal depths,\nand the sides and floor of the bath yielding to the touch, as though\npadded with velvet! Was ever such a bath enjoyed before? Shouting and\nsinging, the little gnomes seized Hal and popped him over the edge of the\nbasin, and plump he fell into a stream of cold water on the other side.\nWhat a big breath he pulled at first, and then, how delicious the glow\nand the dive into the clear depths! What a good swim Hal had up the cold\nstream, racing the little gnomes who spluttered and splashed after him!\nThen back they all went into the blue lake, revelling in the tingling\nwarmth. Again, out of that into another bath close by, where countless\ncrystal bubbles rose from the soft sandy floor, playing round the\nbathers like the dancing bubbles of sparkling wine.\n\nBut Hal heard Santa Claus calling to him to make haste, and he\nreluctantly jumped out, and flinging on his clothes, shouted to the\ngnomes, \u201cI\u2019ll come here for my Saturday-night tub, if you don\u2019t mind;\nit\u2019s awfully jolly.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right,\u201d answered the gnomes, running after Hal, who by this time had\njoined Cis and Santa Claus.\n\n\u201cWon\u2019t you all come and have breakfast with us?\u201d asked Red Cap.\n\n\u201cWell, I am rather hungry, and I expect Cis is, too. But what have you\ngot for breakfast, Mr. Red Cap?\u201d\n\n\u201cPorridge, to be sure. Didn\u2019t you know we were hard-working Scotch boys?\nWho else would work as hard, or get as much out of the earth as we do?\u201d\nanswered a gnome in a huffed tone.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know, I\u2019m sure; but please don\u2019t be offended,\u201d replied Hal,\n\u201cwe\u2019ll eat some porridge with pleasure.\u2014or _try_ to,\u201d he added in a low\nvoice, for he did not care for porridge at home.\n\nRed Cap led the way to where in the earth was the porridge-pot\u2014a large\nhole full of boiling cream-coloured porridge, that hissed, and bubbled,\nand looked tempting enough. Cis and Hal, following the example of their\nguide, dipped sticks into it, and tasted the smooth paste, and what\ngrimaces they both made, which they tried not to let Red Cap see! For the\nporridge was anything but pleasant, being like a mixture of rotten eggs\nand alum.\n\n\u201cIsn\u2019t it good?\u201d asked Red Cap, smacking his lips over it.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Cis, who wished to be polite, \u201cit certainly is well boiled,\nand it is not at all lumpy, but\u2014isn\u2019t it ra\u2014ther\u2014earthy?\u201d\n\nThen, seeing the gnome\u2019s disappointed face, she added, \u201cBut never mind,\nwe\u2019re trying to enjoy it; but I expect you have to be brought up to it,\nMr. Red Cap, really to like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe\u2019ll come for our next picnic here, and bring some tea for you,\u201d said\nHal, trying to make friends with Red Cap, \u201cand perhaps you\u2019ll boil the\nkettle for us\u2014no, I mean, give us the water already boiled. I\u2019m afraid\nit will smell and taste of rotten eggs, but that can\u2019t be helped,\u201d added\nHal, in a low voice, to little Cis, sniffing the sulphurous fumes rising\nfrom the boiling cauldrons on all sides.\n\nSanta Claus and the children now walked on, and Cis and Hal, getting\naccustomed to the strange scenes around, began to feel quite brave.\n\n\u201cThere are not many birds here, Mr. Santa Claus,\u201d said Cis, for they\nhad only seen a few blight-birds flitting about; only the two little\nrobins had come part of the way with her into the valley, then they had\ntwittered their good-bye, and Cis missed her little feathered friends.\n\n\u201cSee,\u201d replied Santa Claus, and there amid the feathery manuka was an\nopen space covered with layers of creamy-coloured stone, and in the\ncentre was what looked like a huge bird\u2019s nest,[15] formed of large\nwhite stems and branches crossed and recrossed, and pieces of petrified\nmoss between. Each little twig was heavily laden with drops, apparently\nfrozen, some thick as milk, some clear as crystal, while round and\noverhead the bushes too were white as snow.\n\n\u201cHow beautiful!\u201d cried Hal.\n\n\u201cBut where is the bird, Mr. Santa Claus?\u201d asked little Cis, \u201cand what a\nbig one it must be to make that nest!\u201d\n\n\u201cWait a little, and if you do not see the bird you shall hear him sing,\u201d\nlaughed Santa Claus.\n\nThe children stood silently waiting. Soon a low rumbling was heard below\ntheir feet, followed by hissing and bubbling noises that grew nearer and\nnearer, then died away, to begin again, louder, nearer than before, and\nmaking Cis creep up close to her brother and Santa Claus. Awe-struck, the\nchildren watched, and soon from the middle of the nest they saw bubbling\nwaters that came and went in fitful gushes, as though battling against\nsome unseen power below,\u2014then roaring, fighting, boiling, a mighty column\nshot up high into the air above their heads, and clouds of steam rolled\naround, hiding for a little while the trees, and even the children, in\na misty veil.[16] How beautiful the clear drops of the mighty fountain\nlooked, as the water\u2019s rose and fell, shining like dancing diamonds in\nthe dawning light! Then out from their holes came the gnomes, singing\nagain their merry song.\n\n[Illustration: The Merry Song of the Gnomes.\n\n    We feed the fires till the cold streams boil,\n    We spare no trouble we spare no toil:\n    We make the dark pools bubble and hiss\n    Till the waters leap up the trees to kiss,\n    With a roar, and a whirr and a rush so high\n    That the bright drops sparkle and dance in the sky\n    Then fall with a soft tra la la la! tra la la la!\n    And we laugh as they fall. Ha ha! ha ha!]\n\nThen they danced around the roaring geyser, till the waters fell lower\nand lower, and amid sobs and sighs died away in the deep dark hole, and\nall was still and silent as before in the mysterious bird\u2019s nest.\n\nWithout waiting to hear the children\u2019s wondering remarks, Santa Claus\ntook them by the hand, and they seemed to pass quickly over a large\ntract of country, until they came to a creek, which they soon saw from\nits steaming sides was hot, and which ran into a lake lying quiet and\npeaceful;\u2014only the pukekos[17] rose now and again, screeching from the\nreedy shallows. Pushing their way through thick scrub, and walking with\ngreat care between bubbling cauldrons and deep holes from which steam\nbelched forth with a mighty roar and thud, Hal found it difficult to\ncarry the Star of Love safely, and asked Santa Claus what he should do\nwith it.\n\n\u201cHold it high overhead, and then stop for a minute and watch,\u201d replied\nSanta Claus, and, doing as he was bid, Hal was astonished to see the Star\nfloat away into the pale grey sky, becoming fainter and fainter, till it\ndisappeared in the misty dawn.\n\n\u201cYou have carried it so long with care,\u201d said Santa Claus, \u201cthat by day,\nthough unseen, it will ever shine to guide you, and at night, though\npassing clouds may sometimes hide it, if you look for it, you will soon\nfind it again.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall look for it, Mr. Santa Claus,\u201d said little Cis; \u201cI often see the\nstars shining in at my window when I am in bed, and I shall ask God not\nto let the angels forget to light that beautiful one for me to see.\u201d\n\nAs little Cis finished speaking, their old friend Red Cap appeared on the\npath before them.\n\n\u201cWhere did you come from?\u201d cried Hal, \u201cwe left you at the bird\u2019s nest.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d answered Red Cap, \u201cbut we gnomes do not follow the paths you\nmortals tread, but have many and hidden passages under the earth, and\nmany underground streams by which we pass quickly from south to north.\nSo, here I am, you see, and now I am going to show you the realm of the\nKing and Queen of the Gnomes.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat _will_ be jolly!\u201d cried Hal.\n\n\u201cWill it take very long, Mr. Red Cap?\u201d asked Cis. \u201cI have been thinking\nof mother, and she will want me back soon, I am sure.\u201d And the child\u2019s\nface grew thoughtful, and her large eyes looked sad and wistful.\n\n\u201cYou shall be back for breakfast on Christmas morning, I promise you,\nlittle Cis,\u201d said Santa Claus; \u201cMother will not expect you before then.\nI am going to leave you a little while with Red Cap now, for I have some\nother children expecting me before the sun is up; but I will meet you\nafter you have seen where the King and Queen of the Gnomes live.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will not forget us, Mr. Santa Claus, will you?\u201d asked Cis, \u201cbecause\nwe could never get home without you.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo fear of that, little one, I never fail the children who believe in\nme,\u201d and so saying he disappeared from their sight. Hal called out,\u2014\n\n\u201cGood-bye, old fellow, I hope you\u2019ll make haste back,\u201d and then, taking\nCis\u2019s hand, for he thought she was a little timid, he followed Red Cap\nuntil they came to the end of the thick bushes. \u201cLook,\u201d said Red Cap,\n\u201cthis is the dwelling place of our King and Queen.\u201d Beautiful indeed\nwas the sight that met their gaze; from the edge of the lake, tier upon\ntier of milky white terraces[18] sloped upwards to a great height, and\nover them fell a glistening veil of water which filled the air with its\nrippling song as it sought the placid lake below.\n\n\u201cOh! let us paddle,\u201d said Hal to Cis, and no sooner was it said than\ndone, and how delightful was the soft, warm water trickling over their\nfeet!\n\nThe children then followed as Red Cap led the way from tier to tier,\nlooking into the numberless marble baths of all shapes and sizes that\nthey passed, filled with coloured waters, clear and inviting, pale blue\nand green\u2014the sides of the baths edged with fantastic wreaths and carved\nalabaster fringe, from the countless points of which overflowing drops\nfell with a soft musical sound.\n\nHow dazzling was the milky white floor as they stepped upwards and looked\ndown on the stretching terraces gemmed with their glistening pools!\nTruly it was wonderland! A fit dwelling-place for the King and Queen; a\nfit scene for the midnight revels of Gnomes and Fays! Hal and Cis found\nmany a little petrified treasure as they lingered here and there,\u2014twigs\nand bits of moss and fern, and even insects white and glistening as the\nterrace itself.\n\n\u201cOh! see, Mr. Red Cap,\u201d called out little Cis, picking up what looked\nlike a perfect white dragonfly, \u201cwhat has happened to the poor\ndragonfly!\u201d and she held it in her hand tenderly.\n\n\u201cThat is the way the gnomes punish any insect that comes near where our\nKing and Queen live,\u201d answered Red Cap; \u201cthe singing waters lure them in,\nand then turn them to stone itself.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor things,\u201d said little Cis, \u201chow hard-hearted the pretty waters must\nbe, and they look so soft and nice.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is often the way with things,\u201d remarked Red Cap; \u201cat least so I\u2019ve\nheard it said.\u201d\n\nAs they came near the topmost tier of baths, the water became hotter and\nhotter, and there, in a gorge of the hill side, with the feathery manuka\nto its very edge, was a huge cauldron of opal-coloured steaming water.\n\nSide by side, with timid steps, the children went close to the edge, and,\nlooking down, saw what Red Cap told them was the entrance to the King\u2019s\npalace.\n\nClusters of white pillars rose in stately grandeur, surrounded with\ncarved wreaths of leaves and flowers, looking as if formed of frozen snow\nin the blue waters; forests of ferns hung their delicate stone fronds in\nthe shadowy depths; quaint shaped mushrooms and coral-like bushes grew\nhere and there \u2019mid heavily fringed leaves of many a strange shape.\n\n\u201cOh! may we go down there?\u201d asked Hal.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied Red Cap, \u201cit would be death to mortals to go there; even\nfairies cannot enter; but they are allowed to bathe in the pools, or to\ndance with the gnomes on moonlight nights, when our King and Queen hold\ntheir court. Only the gnomes can enter the palace halls below the pool,\nand many strange sights and sounds are there, and it is hard work there\nfor the gnomes, I can tell you. See,\u201d went on Red Cap, \u201cthe King and\nQueen are away just now, and the gnomes are busy cleaning out the palace,\nand soon they will make the big fountain play, and fill the terrace baths\nafresh.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere have the King and Queen gone?\u201d asked Hal, \u201cand shan\u2019t we see them?\u201d\n\n\u201cI think not to-night,\u201d said Red Cap, \u201cfor they have gone to their summer\npalace over there,\u201d and he pointed to the other side of the lake, where\nthe children saw another terraced realm even more beautiful than the one\nthey were on, being of a pale pink colour, like the tender flush of a\nwarm sunset upon beds of snow, and over all the falling waters danced and\ngleamed.\n\n\u201cAre there as beautiful bathing places over there too?\u201d asked Hal.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Red Cap, \u201cand there is a large bath with soft downy sides and\nfloor in which mortals sometimes bathe. But they are seldom allowed to\nsee into the depths of the huge cauldron at the top of this pink terrace,\nfor, by the order of the King, soft clouds of steam cover it, which are\nrarely lifted. Some favoured ones who have looked into the boiling depths\nsay the forests and beauteous flowery forms there are even more wonderful\nthan those you see here at the entrance of the Winter Palace.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! look!\u201d cried Hal excitedly to Cis just as Red Cap ceased speaking;\nthen, out of numberless small caves in the blue cauldron at their feet\njumped hundreds of little black gnomes, having thick coats made out of\nsulphur cakes, and on their heads milky white helmets. Up from the blue\nwaters they sprang, capering with wild delight round the edges of the\ncauldron and the numberless basins of the white terraces below, shouting,\nlaughing, and then bursting ever and anon into wild chorus.\n\n    \u201c\u2019Tis done! \u2019tis done! our labour is o\u2019er,\n    We\u2019ve cleaned each hall, and polished each floor.\n    We\u2019ve made the matches, and lighted the fires\n    The engines to start as our King desires;\n    List to the hammers that thump and bang,\n    To the piston\u2019s thud and the anvil\u2019s clang.\n    Hurrah! hurrah! for the rumble and rush,\n    The boiling pools that bubble and gush,\n    Then upwards burst, and the steam clouds rise\n    To join their brethren that float in the skies.\n    Now the fountains play o\u2019er the palace halls,\n    And the rainbow-arch o\u2019er the portal falls,\n    Hark to the din! and hark to the roar!\n    \u2019Tis done, \u2019tis done; our labour is o\u2019er.\u201d\n\nAnd the children and Red Cap saw the water in the big cauldron begin to\nbubble at the bottom, and then rise rapidly higher and higher.\n\n\u201cRun to the hill!\u201d cried Red Cap.\n\nHal and Cis needed no second bidding, but ran down the terrace and then\nclimbed up the hill-side as quickly as they could with their bare feet,\nand from the midst of the bushes watched the big geyser shoot up into the\nsky with a terrific roar.\n\nSoon the cauldron overflowed in tossing wavelets that swept downwards\nfrom terrace to terrace, filling to overflowing the countless baths on\nthe way, and forming one beautiful sparkling cascade\u2014in many parts blue\nas the sky overhead\u2014from the top to the lake below, which was itself blue\nas a summer sky.\n\nThe gnomes, perching on the bushes and flax clumps round, nodded their\nheads approvingly, and sang:\u2014\n\n      \u201cThe cascade falls o\u2019er each marble lip,\n      Where at night the fairies merrily trip,\n      As the rippling waters rise and fall,\n      We join their dance on a gleaming wall,\n      Or climbing high on the moon\u2019s bright rays,\n      We sing till the sun on the terrace plays,\n      Then hide again in our holes and caves,\n      Where our tired feet the water laves,\n      And we watch poor mortals come and go,\n    They see not the fun we have below.\n      Oh! what tricks we play! They know not why\n      The geysers gush, and the steam-clouds fly:\n      As they hear us chuckle and laugh, ha! ha!\n      They say, \u2019tis the water\u2019s song, tra la la!\n      Hurrah! for the fun in our hidden homes,\n      Hurrah! for the life of the merry gnomes!\u201d\n\n[Illustration: \u201cRun to the hill!\u201d cried Red Cap.]\n\nAnd down the funny little fellows jumped and rushed laughing into the\ndelicately fringed caves beneath the marble baths.\n\n\u201cWhat jolly little boys they are,\u201d said Hal, \u201cand what a good time they\nseem to be having!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Red Cap, \u201cthey all _seem_ happy; but I am sorry to say\nthere are a lot of discontented ones below, and I should not wonder if\nthey strike one day; and if so, the passages will get clogged, and there\nwill be a grand blow up, and I don\u2019t know what will happen to our King\nand Queen and their beautiful fairy realms,\u201d[19] and Red Cap heaved a\ndeep sigh. \u201cBut we must go now,\u201d added he.\n\nThe children ran down to where they had left their shoes and stockings,\nand putting them on, followed their guide to the creek.\n\nThere in the reeds, close to the bank, they found a canoe; it had pointed\nends, and was hollowed out of a large tree trunk, and the bottom was\ncovered with the small leafy twigs of the manuka.\n\n\u201cGet in, children,\u201d said Red Cap.\n\n\u201cThere are no seats,\u201d said little Cis.\n\n\u201cNever mind,\u201d answered Red Cap; \u201csit quite still on the bottom, and hold\ntightly to the sides.\u201d\n\nSo Hal helped Cis in carefully, for it seemed as if very little would\nupset the canoe, and Red Cap, taking up a paddle, pushed out into the\nstream.\n\nThen, how quickly they floated along on the rapidly running water; how\ndelightful was the swift motion without any effort, making the children\nfeel giddy as some swift eddy hurried them round the turns of the stream.\nOn, on past the reedy banks, over deep pools and weedy shallows, faster\nand faster, Red Cap steering here and there with a touch of the paddle.\n\nAt last they came to the end of the rapids, and Red Cap steered the canoe\nto a little curve in the banks, and Cis and Hal jumped out.\n\n\u201cIt was splendid,\u201d cried Hal, \u201cto come all that way so quickly, without\nany trouble, wasn\u2019t it, Cis?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Cis, hesitating a little; \u201cbut it rather took my breath\naway, and I was afraid we might be upset.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! it was safe enough,\u201d said Hal with an air of superior wisdom, \u201cas\nlong as you sat still; but I suppose it is difficult for girls to do\nthat. Where now, Mr. Red Cap?\u201d he added.\n\n\u201cI must leave you now, children; but here is Santa Claus waiting for you.\u201d\n\nAnd there indeed they saw their old friend sitting on a bank.\n\nThe children rushed to him, for they were delighted to see him again;\nthen, turning, they bid Red Cap good-bye, and thanked him heartily for\nall his kindness to them, Hal adding, \u201cI shall tell other children of the\nwonderful things you have shown us, Mr. Red Cap, that I shall, for I had\noften read of fairy-land, but I had never been to it before, and I think\nit is a jolly place.\u201d\n\nAnd with another good-bye, Red Cap vanished from their sight.\n\n\u201cSo you have enjoyed yourselves, children? I am glad of that,\u201d said Santa\nClaus. \u201cAnd now, is there anything more you would like to see before you\ngo home?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d cried Hal, \u201cI _should_ like to see some real snow, the snow mother\ntells us of. Can we, please?\u201d\n\nCis added her entreaty to Hal\u2019s, and Santa Claus said he would take them\nwhere they could see some.\n\nThe morning had come, but the sun only now and again shone through the\ngray clouds that floated low.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d said Santa Claus; and taking a hand of each, he led them up\nto where a large, soft cloud rested on the hill-side, and he bade the\nchildren sit down with him on it.\n\nUp, up floated the billowy mass into the sky, and glided away to the\nsouth. How smoothly they went along, wafted by the morning breezes! and\nCis and Hal, seated on their soft cushions, gazed dreamily down on the\ncountry that sped away so quickly beneath them.\n\n\u201cHow small the big mountains look!\u201d cried Hal; \u201cand the towns and\nvillages look like toy ones.\u201d\n\nAnd then they passed over big streams, and a wide strait, that looked\nlike a silver streak in the far depths. Away, away they floated; the sky\nwas now clearer, and off the hills, and out of the valleys the mists were\nrolling, their silvery edges gleaming in the fitful sunlight.\n\n\u201cLook! we are going over some big ponds now,\u201d said little Cis.\n\n\u201cPonds!\u201d exclaimed Santa Claus, \u201cthose are large lakes, see how they\nspread out like sheets of silver water!\u201d\n\nThe cloud was by this time passing over one of the largest lakes, and\nvery beautiful looked the soft shining waters surrounded by mountains,\non the tops of which the clouds still rested. Then the cloud floated to\nthe far end of the lake, and glided down a narrow valley in which the\nmilky blue waters of a glacier-stream rushed and roared, though no sound\nreached the children, who could only see its fighting wavelets.\n\nOn they went, watching the clouds roll from the tree-clad depths and\nrocky heights, till at last they uttered cries of joy and wonder.\n\nThere, in front of them, the mighty snow-crowned hills pierced the grey\nclouds, catching the rosy rays of the now rapidly-rising sun. Vast\nice-fields stretched far and wide, their rifts blue as the breaks in the\nsky above, their jagged peaks gleaming with a thousand diamond lights;\nand how soft and inviting looked the beds of snow in the hollows!\n\n\u201cThe snow! The snow at last!\u201d cried Hal and Cis, as they saw the hills\nand their gleaming sides and peaks; \u201coh! do let us get down, Mr. Santa\nClaus.\u201d\n\n\u201cWait,\u201d he replied; and the cloud glided close to a gorge in one of the\nmountains, where a mighty foaming torrent[20] rushed down the rocky\nsteeps to the valley beneath, the silver streaks thousands of feet\noverhead showing where the waters ran out from the glacier fields.\n\nWhen the cloud stopped, the children jumped off and rushed to the edge of\nthe waterfall, and, holding on to the trees at the side, were about to\nstoop down for a drink, when Santa Claus cried out, \u201cDo not try to drink\nthere, children, you will be swept away by the rushing waters. Come with\nme, and I will show you where you can get a draught of clear still water.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHal and Cis turned reluctantly, and Santa Claus took them where, in a\ndry water-course, amid big boulders, they saw clusters of the pure white\nflowers of the mountain-lily,[21] and their guide, pointing to these,\nsaid, \u201cSee there, if you are thirsty.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe flowers are very beautiful, Mr. Santa Claus,\u201d said Cis, \u201cbut it is\n_water_ we want, and I am _so_ thirsty.\u201d\n\n\u201cLook again,\u201d replied Santa Claus.\n\nThere, below the flowers, were large cup-shaped leaves full of clear\ncold water; Cis and Hal darted forward to gather them and drink, when\nthe leaves seemed to be shaken as if with the wind, but there was not\nwind enough for that, and, stooping down, they saw two little fat dwarfs\nholding the stems and shaking with laughter.\n\nWhat ugly little fellows they were! Hal thought at first they were green\nfrogs, for they were dressed in tight-fitting green coats, their big\nmouths reached from ear to ear, and their hands and feet were webbed.\n\n\u201cHulloa!\u201d cried Hal, \u201cwho are you?\u201d\n\nInstead of answering, they only laughed and choked, and choked and\nlaughed.\n\n\u201cYou seem to have got bad colds,\u201d said little Cis.\n\n\u201cPerhaps, when you have done, you will tell us what you are laughing at?\u201d\ncontinued Hal, in aggrieved tones.\n\nStill they laughed and choked.\n\n\u201cI wish I were at home; my mother would give you some ipecacuanha wine,\nfor I think you have got the croup,\u201d said little Cis, in a troubled voice.\n\nAt this the dwarfs opened their mouths wider than before, and, at last,\nin low croaking voices began a duet:\u2014\n\n    \u201cMy name it is Gup!\u201d\n    \u201cMy name it is Joke!\u201d\n    \u201cWe\u2019ve got such bad colds (together)\n    We can only croak.\n\n    \u201cWe are both so fat, (together)\n    And we can\u2019t tell why,\n    Unless it\u2019s because\n    We live near the sky.\u201d\n\n    \u201cSo close to the clouds\n    There\u2019s no need to climb,\u201d\n    Said Joke, \u201cso all day\n    I sit here and rhyme.\n\n    \u201cI feed upon flies,\n    And grumble and grunt,\n    Or for nice fat snails\n    Al night-time I hunt.\u201d\n\n    \u201cBe quiet,\u201d cried Gup.\n    \u201cThat I won\u2019t,\u201d said Joke;\n    \u201cYour voice is just like\n    A pig\u2019s in a poke!\u201d\n\n    \u201cAnd little care I\n    If it is,\u201d said Gup;\n    \u201cI\u2019m tired to death\n    Of holding this cup.\u201d\n\n    \u201cI like to be fat,\n    I hate to drink dew,\n    It\u2019s a weak cold draught\n    That nourishes few.\n\n    \u201cGreat poets, they say,\n    Must live near the skies!\u201d\n    \u201cThat\u2019s me!\u201d cried out Joke;\n    \u201cI\u2019m ever so wise!\n\n    \u201cI know no grammar,\n    I read no books,\n    I have but studied\n    Dame Nature\u2019s looks.\n\n    \u201cA poet to gain\n    The top of the tree,\n    Has to use long words,\n    And drone like a bee.\u201d\n\n    So we both make rhymes,\n    And chuckle and grin\n    At the people who listen,\n    And cry, \u201cWhat a sin\n\n    \u201c\u2018These two clever boys\n    Should not be extolled!\u2019\u201d\n    \u201cStop! stop!\u201d cried out Joke,\n    \u201cWhere has the grub rolled?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are you looking for?\u201d asked the children.\n\n\u201cWe are looking for our dinner,\u201d replied the dwarfs, who, during the\nlatter part of their singing, had been hunting under the leaves and down\nthe slippery slope for a big fat grub which they had carefully stowed\naway for a meal, but which had disappeared.\n\n    \u201cI\u2019d rolled him all up\n    just under this cup!\u201d\n    With a grunt cried out Gup.\n    \u201cYes! grunt and croak,\n    You pig in a poke;\n    You\u2019re to blame,\u201d cried Joke.\n    \u201cI\u2019ve told you full oft\n    Not to gaze up aloft\u2014\n    That grub was _so_ soft!\n    He was such a prize!\n    A sight for sore eyes\n    When made into pies!\u201d\n    And Joke heaved big sighs.\n\n\u201cOh, dear! oh, dear!\u201d said little Cis, \u201cpray don\u2019t quarrel over a grub.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuarrel, indeed!\u201d cried a voice out of the bushes; \u201cthey\u2019re always\nquarrelling!\u201d\n\nIt was a plump Maori hen who thus spoke, and she added, \u201cIf they\u2019d leave\noff making rhymes, and attend to the business of every-day life, it\nwould be far better. While they sat looking up at the skies, the grub\nrolled down, and I caught him and ate him, for it was a pity he should be\nwasted. In fact,\u201d added the hen, with a satisfied nod, \u201cas a rule, they\nfind the grubs, and I eat them!\u201d\n\nAt this, the dwarfs got so puffed out with anger, that the children were\nafraid they would burst, they rolled their eyes round and round, in\nsearch of something to throw at the Maori hen, but she ran away into the\nbushes beyond their reach.\n\n\u201cI should be glad if you\u2019d give us a drink out of those green cups of\nyours,\u201d said Hal; \u201cand couldn\u2019t you make some better poetry? if so, we\u2019d\nlike to hear it very much.\u201d\n\nThe dwarfs then handed the children each a mountain-lily leaf full of\ncool dew, saying:\u2014\n\n    \u201cTo you we hold the fairy cup,\n    And bid you drink of sparkling dew,\n    The stars have gone, the sun is up,\n    Soon must we hide from mortal view.\n    But ere we say good-bye, we bid\n    Ye upward, ever upward go;\n    Look to the Star that shines above,\n    Though oft you cull the flowers below.\n    \u2019Tis Christmas morn, the Bell-bird\u2019s chimes\n    Rise from the distant woods; o\u2019er hills\n    Where rabbits skip, there softly rings\n    The music of a thousand rills.\n    A merry Christmas! then we sing;\n    A merry time for one and all!\n    Let not the poor pass by your gates,\n    Let from your hands the good gifts fall.\n    We merry dwarfs have but one gift,\n    To thirsty souls we hold it up,\n    And bid them drink refreshing dew\n    From out our cool green fairy cup.\n    But ere we say good-bye we bid\n    Ye upwards, ever upwards go;\n    Look to the Star that shines above,\n    E\u2019en though you cull the flowers below.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wonder if they mean our Star of Love,\u201d said little Cis.\n\n\u201cPerhaps so,\u201d said Hal, \u201cthough I don\u2019t see it anywhere just now.\u201d\n\nHal stooped down to where the little dwarfs were hiding themselves under\nthe leaves, but somehow they and the big stalks seemed to get all mixed\nup, and he then could see nothing but the stalks, and began to think he\nmust have dreamt all the rest.\n\nJust then a Maori hen, with an inquisitive air, came out of the fern, and\nHal, seeing it, cried out,\u2014\n\n\u201cBy-the-bye, old thief, where are those buttons of mine you stole?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d replied the hen. Indignant mutterings were uttered by\nsome other hens gathering round:\u2014\n\n\u201c_We_ never stole any buttons, it must have been some country cousin\nof ours; we never think of stealing anything,\u201d protested the crowd\nindignantly.\n\n\u201cWell, you see,\u201d replied Hal, \u201call your family have got a bad name; but\nthere may be some honest ones amongst you.\u201d\n\nBut the offended hens did not wait to hear more, and scuttled off into\nthe bushes.\n\nThe children, seeing that Santa Claus was beckoning to them to go on,\ntried to get up the slope quickly; but how slippery the stretches of\nsnow-grass were! they often stumbled, and had to hold on tightly to the\nsilvery tufts to keep from falling backwards into the awful depths. Many\na time did Hal help little Cis, for he still had the wand in his hand,\nand used it as a stick to lean upon.\n\n\u201cWe shall soon get to the snow now,\u201d said Santa Claus, waiting for the\nchildren, and pointing above them, where the eternal peaks were shining.\n\n\u201cWhat is that?\u201d cried Hal, as he heard a loud thundering, as of a huge\nmass falling from some great height, waking the echoes far and near.\n\n\u201cYou will know soon,\u201d answered Santa Claus; and helping the children up\nthe last steep ledges, they came in sight of the vast fields of snow and\nice.\n\nProceeding in single file along the narrow path under his guidance,\nhe at length placed them on a spot whence they could safely watch the\navalanches thundering from the heights, down the rugged mountain side to\nthe valley below, and how wonderful it was to see the huge masses of ice\nfalling, sliding, dashing from ledge to ledge! Then from the clear sky\nabove them they heard a voice calling, \u201cKe-a, ke-a. Come up, come up.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: Kea.]\n\n\u201cWhat is that?\u201d asked little Cis, who had not spoken, but, sitting close\nto Hal, had been watching the wonderful scene.\n\n\u201cI do not know,\u201d said Hal, \u201cbut it looks like a big mountain parrot that\nI\u2019ve seen pictures of in our new book on New Zealand birds.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that what it is, Mr. Santa Claus?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Hal, and it is a cruel bird,[22] for it will fasten its claws into\nthe back of any sheep that has wandered away from its companions or is\nfloundering in the snow, and then, digging its sharp beak through the\nflesh, it feeds upon the fat part it likes best. The poor sheep, driven\nfrantic by the pain, rushes on and on, till it sinks down exhausted to\ndie; and then the Kea, having got the dainty bit it wanted, leaves its\nprey, and goes off to seek a fresh victim.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow cruel!\u201d said little Cis, her eyes filling with tears.\n\n\u201cBut come, children,\u201d said Santa Claus, \u201cI must take you near the snow,\u201d\nand he led them to where the snow lay white and pure.\n\nThe children rushed to fill their hands with it, and shouted for joy.\n\n\u201cHow cold it is!\u201d cried Hal.\n\n\u201cHow beautifully white and soft!\u201d said little Cis.\n\nAnd the children began to pelt each other, their merry laughter ringing\non the clear air.\n\n\u201cLet\u2019s have a shy at Santa Claus,\u201d whispered Hal to his sister; and,\nmaking a big snow-ball, their eyes sparkling with fun, they threw it\nsuddenly at their guide, who was sitting on a rock near by.\n\nBut how astonished they were, when the snow-ball hit him, to see it\ngradually spread out and cover him.\n\n\u201cGood-bye, children! Good-bye! good-bye!\u201d said Santa Claus in a low\nmuffled voice; and then, all that was left of their kind guide was a heap\nof snow.\n\n\u201cOh! what have we done!\u201d cried Cis, as she looked round and round for\nSanta Claus.\n\nShe thought the heap of snow was something like him in shape, but then it\nwas _only_ a heap of snow, and poor Cis sat down and cried.\n\nHal tried to look brave, but felt inclined to cry too, when he remembered\nhow far they were from home.\n\n\u201cHow shall we get down the mountain? How shall we get back to mother?\u201d\nmoaned Cis, and the tears ran down her cheeks afresh.\n\nThen from out the snow-heap sprang hundreds of little long-legged\nsprites, with high pointed ice-caps on their heads, and wearing coats of\nsparkling snow, the icicle-fringe of which jingled merrily.\n\nWhat round, rosy faces they had! What twinkling blue eyes! In their hands\nthey carried frost lances or little crystal spades, which they flourished\nin the air as they sprang up from the snow, making flashes of light in\nthe sun.\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d cried Hal.\n\n\u201cAre you the children of Santa Claus?\u201d asked little Cis, \u201cand if so, can\nyou tell us where he has gone, please?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are his servants,\u201d shouted they, \u201cand he has sent us to help you; for\nhe has started on his journey to the Old World, where the children will\nsoon be looking for him.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! is that where he has gone!\u201d said little Cis with a relieved air,\nglad to find they had not killed him; \u201cand will you help us to go\nhome? because I think it must be Christmas morning, and mother will be\nexpecting us;\u201d and little Cis thought she could hear the Bell-bird\u2019s\nchimes, as she had heard it many a time in the early morning.\n\n\u201cYes, we will help you,\u201d answered the sprites.\n\nJust then they heard the bird circling over their heads, again crying,\n\u201cKe-a! Ke-a! Come up! come up!\u201d and Hal, helping little Cis, and planting\nhis stick firmly, step by step, in the snow, followed the sprites, who\ntripped lightly on, looking like points of dancing light.\n\nAt last, after hard climbing, they reached the ice-clad side of the\nhighest peak. How beautiful the prospect in the bright sunlight! The\nclouds all gone; nothing but the clear blue sky above and around. All\nwas still, save when the avalanches thundered down from the heights. The\nchildren stood and watched the huge masses of ice as they slid down, now\nhere, now there from the shining peaks, to fall like powdered snow into\nthe foaming glacier stream in the dim depths below.\n\nMeanwhile the little sprites were hard at work digging, cutting, shaping\na huge block of ice.\n\n\u201cWhat are you making?\u201d asked Hal. \u201cCan we help?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, if you like,\u201d said the sprites, and they gave him and Cis two\nlittle spades. The children were soon quite hot, working as the sprites\nbade them, loosening and shaping the huge block of ice; while every now\nand then they would all stop, and pelt each other with the powdered ice,\nand the sprites sang:\u2014\n\n    \u201cPelt us, pelt us, we don\u2019t care,\n    We love the snow so crisp and fair;\n    We will shape and we will dig,\n    Till a chariot white and big\n    We have cut, for those who\u2019d fain\n    Hasten to their home again.\n    Slide and slip, and slip and slide,\n    Thunderous roll, and mighty crash!\n    In the chariot come and ride,\n    Down into the depths to dash.\n    Mystic trip for those who roam;\n    One wild rush: Hurrah for home!\u201d\n\nTempting indeed looked the chariot; bright and sparkling were its wheels\nof ice, and some of the sprites had decked it with starry edelweiss\ngathered on the slopes below, and with handfuls of the red snow-lichen.\n\n\u201cLet\u2019s get in, Cis!\u201d cried Hal.\n\n\u201cIs it quite safe?\u201d asked Cis of the sprites.\n\n\u201cQuite, quite,\u201d answered they; \u201cSanta Claus told us to make it for you.\u201d\n\nTaking hold of little Cis, the foremost sprite helped her to get in, and\nHal jumped quickly in by her side.\n\nThrowing down their spades, the laughing sprites rushed to the chariot\nwheels, ready to push them round, whilst others pelted the children with\nsnow-lichen, shouting at the top of their shrill voices:\u2014\n\n    \u201cSlide and slip, and slip and slide,\n    Thunderous roll and mighty crash!\n    In the chariot those who ride,\n    Down into the depths shall dash.\n    Mystic trip for those who roam;\n    One wild rush: Hurrah for home!\u201d\n\nThen the wheels began to turn, and Hal threw his arm round Cis, who was\nholding on to him, and looking with a little white face into the depths\nbelow.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cYou must have been dreaming, Hal!\u201d]\n\nBut the wheels turned faster and faster, as the chariot dashed down\nthe glassy slope. Hal looked at the sky above, where the Kea was still\ncrying, \u201cCome up! come up!\u201d and he thought he saw the Star of Love\nshining faint and far; and then\u2014\u2014 Hal remembered no more; and, with the\nwords of the sprites ringing in his ears,\u2014\n\n    \u201cSlide and slip, and slip and slide,\u201d\n\nhe\u2014awoke,\u2014to find he had tumbled out of bed, and that it was Christmas\nmorn indeed. And there was little Cis, sitting up in her bed, and there\nwere the stockings with their bulging sides; and Hal rubbed his eyes and\nwondered if he were awake or dreaming. But he and Cis hastened to dive\ninto their stockings, to see what Santa Claus had put into them, and,\nwhat treasures they found!\n\nFor Cis there was a big doll, dressed like an angel, and fairy-like small\nones, and beautiful furniture for her doll\u2019s house, and a book with\npictures of all kinds of birds and insects.\n\nAnd in Hal\u2019s, what treasures for his collection! Rare birds\u2019 eggs in\nlittle glass-covered boxes, precious bits of many-coloured ores; and from\nthe Terraces, about which his mother had often told him, were specimens\nof white encrusted sticks and delicate ferns. How he longed to put them\nin his cabinet with his other treasures!\n\nBut when Hal talked to Cis about Santa Claus and their night\u2019s travels,\nshe laughed and said,\u2014\n\n\u201cYou must have been dreaming, Hal, or perhaps the treasures in the\nstockings whispered it all in your ear,\u201d which Hal indignantly denied.\n\n\u201cFor I know it was real,\u201d he said.\n\nBut the Bell-birds were singing their Christmas chime in the bush, and\nthe morning sun was gilding the tree-ferns and the waves, and their\nmother\u2019s voice was calling, \u201cA happy Christmas, children! a happy\nChristmas!\u201d\n\nAnd whose was that other voice that called out the words too?\n\n\u201cFather! father!\u201d cried the little ones eagerly, tearfully, as they\nrushed into the outstretched arms of their mother and _father_ too!\n\nYes, it was a happy Christmas morn, indeed, for the sea had brought its\n_living_ to their home. And as the children sat that evening in the\nlittle low room, their father told them of the shipwreck, of his life\non an island with one other, carried like himself to its shores, and of\ntheir joy when a passing vessel sighted them and brought them home at\nlast.\n\nWhen the Southern Cross again shone down from the sky on the father and\nmother and happy children, Hal told them his tale of all he had seen the\nnight before.\n\nAlthough little Cis declared it was not so, Hal would never believe but\nthat Cis and he had been with Santa Claus to see all the wonders of the\nSouthern Cross Fairy-land.\n\nFINIS.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES.\n\n\n[1] Bell-bird. Korimako. (_Anthornis melanura._)\u2014A honey eater, the\nsize of a sparrow; plumage dark green. It inhabits the outskirts of the\nforest. At daybreak the Bell-birds collect together in a favourite tree,\nespecially on the Pohutukawa, or Christmas-tree, so called because it is\nin blossom at Christmas time, every little branch being then decorated\nwith a tuft of crimson flowers, the cups of which are full of honey. One\nbird acts as conductor, making a snap with his bill, which is the signal\nto the others to begin the music, when at once a beautiful sound, like\ndistant chimes, is heard; all the birds listen to the conductor, and stop\nor begin at his command. During the daytime they do not sing in chorus,\nbut before retiring to rest they again gather together and with sweet\nmusic show their joy in life.\u2014A. REISCHEK, F.L.S.\n\n[2] The Cabbage-tree (_Cordyline australis_) is a characteristic feature\nin New Zealand landscapes. It receives its name from the arrangement\nof its leaves in tufts or heads at the ends of the branches. The tree\nmay reach forty feet in height, and the tufts of stiff and sword-shaped\nleaves at the ends of the not very numerous branches gives it a\npeculiarly picturesque appearance. It is a member of the Lily order, and\nbears in the spring, feathery masses of small, white and sweet-scented\nflowers.\u2014A. P. W. THOMAS, M.A., F.L.S., F.G.S.\n\n[3] Kiwi. (_Apteryx mantelli._)\u2014A bird about the size of a common fowl,\nwith a long bill; it cannot fly, as the wings are extremely small and\nhidden amongst the plumage, being only 2\u00bd inches long. The plumage of\nthe Northern Kiwi is brown, and that of the South Island grey, the\nfeathers are very much like hair, and when walking it steadies itself\nwith its long bill. In summer it inhabits dense and secluded gullies,\nand in winter the spurs of the forest-covered hills. During the day the\nKiwis sleep in burrows, under roots, or in hollow trees. As soon as the\nsun sets the shrill call of the male, and the croaking answer of the\nfemale, is heard, and it is amusing to see these creatures on a moonlight\nnight, coming into the open spaces, and challenging any of their rivals\nwho may dare to intrude into their favourite haunts. The challenge\nbeing answered, each bird makes a grunt of defiance, then the two rush\ntogether, and the fight begins. They strike forward with their strong\nlegs at each other, and often roll over and over from the hard blows\ngiven. They are the most unsociable of all the New Zealand birds.\u2014A. R.\n\n[4] Parson-bird. Tui. (_Prosthemadera nov\u00e6 Zealandi\u00e6._)\u2014A honey bird, the\nsize of a blackbird; plumage black, with steel-blue and green shimmer,\nand two white tufts of soft curly feathers under its throat, suggestive\nof white bands, hence the name, Parson-bird. It imitates nearly every\nbird, and talks to perfection when in captivity and if taught. It alters\nits note according to the four seasons. In September, when the Kowhai is\ncovered with bright yellow flowers, it is a remarkable sight to see the\nTuis climbing among the blossoms, and sucking the honey from them, their\ndark plumage forming a beautiful contrast to the mass of brilliant golden\nflowers.\u2014A. R.\n\n[5] Pied Fantail. Piwakawaka (_Rhipidura flabellifera._)\u2014A small\nfly-catcher; plumage greyish brown. While busily engaged catching\nmosquitos or sand flies, these birds steer with their fan-shaped tails,\nmaking fantastic evolutions in the air. When a fantail has spied out with\nits big black eyes the hiding place of the owl, in the daytime it will\ncall its mates together and show them the spot where their enemy dwells,\nand then all the birds dart at the owl, and fly round and round, annoying\nit in every possible manner until they chase it away.\u2014A. R.\n\n[6] The little Brown Owl, or Morepork. Ruru. (_Athene nov\u00e6\nZealandi\u00e6._)\u2014The size and plumage is the same as that of the European\nStone Owl. As soon as darkness covers the land, the Moreporks appear\nsilently swooping through the air, or darting suddenly after insects.\nWoe to any small bird which happens to chirp in its dreams, or to any\nrat which is taking a walk abroad, they will be sure to be detected by\nthe bright yellow eyes of these nocturnal wanderers. On one occasion I\nsaw one of these owls dart down on a large rat, fly with it high into\nthe air, then let it drop, and, again darting down upon it, it repeated\nthe operation till the rat was dead. The bird then proceeded most\nsystematically to skin its prey, and, after feasting on the flesh, flew\nto the nearest tree, where it gave a few contented calls of \u201cMorepork,\u201d\nand then sat like an image, with its piercing eyes gazing on the ground\nin search of other prey.\u2014A. R.\n\n[7] North Island Crow. Kokako. (_Glaucopis wilsoni._)\u2014A bird about the\nsize of a jay; plumage of a slaty-grey. In the North Island it has blue\nwattles, in the South, orange with blue. This bird inhabits the secluded\nslopes of mountains, hopping swiftly through the forest, or hiding itself\nand peering through the boughs. Its note is melodious, and similar to\nthat of a flute, and in the pairing season the male dances up and down on\na branch, with his tail and wings out-spread, making at the same time a\ngurgling noise to attract the female bird\u2019s attention, who sits near by,\nlooking on in quiet admiration.\u2014A. R.\n\n[8] The Tuatara (_Splenodon punebatum_) is one of the peculiar animals\nof New Zealand. It is a lizard-like animal, rather less than two feet in\nlength. It was formerly found on the mainland, but is now confined to\na few of the outlying islands which are seldom visited. It has no near\nrelative amongst existing lizards, and its nearest allies are certain\nfossil saurians of a remote geological period (_Lianic_). A. P. W. T.\n\n[9] VEGETABLE CATERPILLAR.\n\nA caterpillar found in the New Zealand forest, which, when it buries\nitself in the ground previous to its change into the perfect winged form,\nis attacked by a kind of fungus.\n\nThe fungus spreads through the substance of the caterpillar, upon which\nit lives; it then sends up a stem from the neck of its victim, and this\nstem appears above ground, growing to the length of some eight or ten\ninches. From its slightly thickened end, spores are shed.\n\nThe caterpillar becomes hard and dry, and its skin being filled with the\nwood-like substance of the fungus, its natural shape is preserved.\u2014A. P.\nW. T.\n\n[10] Grey Robin. Toutouwai. (_Petr\u0153ca longipes._)\u2014A bird very much like\nthe Robin Red-breast. The plumage is grey, with a yellowish-white breast.\nRobins are very tame birds, and can easily be made pets; they will often\ncome into a tent. When I was camping in the forest, a pair came into my\nhut, ate off my plate, drank and bathed in my tin mug, sat on my dog\u2019s\nback, and, when I did not get up by daybreak, actually pulled my beard\nand sat on my blanket. They often followed me on my expeditions for\nmiles, and were so jealous that they would not let any other robins come\nnear my camp.\u2014A. R.\n\nTomtit, or Black Robin. (_Petr\u0153ca macrocephala._)\u2014A bird of the size\nof a titmouse; plumage black, with yellow and white on the breast. On\nthe Little Barrier Island, off the coast of the Auckland province, a\npair came to my camp every morning to get a little porridge or a few\ncrumbs. If I did not feed them at once they would come to the entrance\nof my tent, and whistling, ask for food. One morning, to my delight,\nthey brought a family of three pretty little birds covered with yellow\nspeckles. As soon as I gave them oatmeal they fed their young with it.\nThey stayed with me till I broke up my camp.\u2014A. R.\n\n[11] Parrakeet. Kakariki. (_Platycercus nov\u00e6 Zealandi\u00e6._)\u2014A small green\nparrot, red on the top of the head. The parakeets climb about in large\nflocks on the tops of the trees, feeding on seeds and berries. They are\nmost amiable towards each other, chattering the whole day, feeding and\nkissing.\u2014A. R.\n\n[12] Maori Hen. Weka. (_Ocydromus earli._)\u2014A bird rather smaller than\na common hen; plumage brown. It is the most inquisitive, cunning, and\nmischievous of all the New Zealand birds. During the day it hides in\nburrows or in thick scrub, from which, however, it emerges as soon as it\nhears any unusual noise; it then hides behind a log, stone, or tree-root,\nwhence it watches all proceedings, calling to its mate with a booming\nnoise. Any small, bright article, such as a knife, watch, or bunch of\nkeys laid aside, the Maori hen will at once pick up and carry off with\ndelight to its hiding place. When near a farm-house, this bird, as soon\nas it hears a domestic hen cackle, will watch its opportunity to run to\nthe place and carry off the egg she has laid, to eat it at leisure. In\nthe forest the Maori hens watch the birds building their nests in order\nto steal their eggs. If a young bird or a rat is not sufficiently on the\nalert, it will be seized at once and devoured, or should a lizard or a\ngrub cross their path, or a fish come too near the shore, they seldom\nescape the eye of these vigilant birds. When chased by a dog the Maori\nhen will run into its hole and slip out by another opening, and, screened\nperhaps by a bush or fern, will watch the dog digging for it.\u2014A. R.\n\n[13] White Heron. Kotuku. (_Ardea alba._)\u2014There is a Maori saying, that\nthe Kotuku, or White Heron, is like a great chief, seen only once in a\nlifetime. These birds inhabit the rivers on the west coast of the South\nIsland, proudly stepping up and down the shore, or standing knee deep\nin the water, with neck drawn in and head bent downwards to be ready\nto make a dart should any fish venture too near. In November the White\nHerons leave the rivers and congregate at one of the old breeding-places\non the shores of secluded inland lakes, where they sit about on the\ncrowns of tree-ferns or branches of trees near their nests; if any enemy\napproaches, the birds begin in chorus a strange croaking noise. It is\na beautiful sight to see the long-legged, snow-white creatures sitting\namongst the green foliage, the whole picture clearly reflected in the\ndark still water.\u2014A. R.\n\n[14] Wairakei Valley.\u2014K. C.\n\n[15] The Eagle\u2019s Nest Geyser.\u2014K. C.\n\n[16] The hot-springs and geysers of New Zealand are chiefly found over a\nbroad belt of country stretching from the great volcanic mountains near\nthe centre of the North Island, in a north-easterly direction to the Bay\nof Plenty. Hot-springs occur in tens of thousands over this area, showing\nevery variety; the water of some is only pleasantly warm, so that they\nserve as natural baths, others are at a boiling temperature; the geysers\nare boiling springs which act intermittently, now throwing up a column\nof water fountain-like into the air, now sinking to rest for a longer or\nshorter time.\u2014A. P. W. T.\n\n[17] Swamp Hen. Pukeko. (_Porphyrio melanotus._)\u2014About the size of a\nfowl: plumage of a black and blue colour, with a red bill and long red\nlegs. These birds inhabit swamps, or the shallow shores of lakes, where\nthey stalk about with tails erect, their white undercoverts showing out\nconspicuously from the dark plumage. Where they are often disturbed, a\nfew are always on the watch, whilst others feed, and on the approach of\ndanger the watchers give a note of alarm and all disappear in the swamp.\nWhen plentiful near a cultivation they are destructive to crops of grain,\nas they eat the young shoots.\u2014A. R.\n\n[18] THE TERRACES.\n\nThe White and Pink Terraces were situated on the shores of Lake\nRotomahana, a warm lake, as its name indicates (from Roto, lake, and\nmahana, warm). The lake was surrounded by hills, and it was on the sides\nof these hills, sloping down to the lake, that the Terraces had been\nformed. At the top of the White Terrace was a hollow in the hill-side,\nand in the centre of this was a great geyser. The water rising in the\ngeyser overflowed its basin, and streaming down the sloping ground into\nthe lake, cooled, and deposited a white incrustation of silica. On the\nopposite side of the lake was a similar terrace, known as the Pink\nTerrace, which, owing to the presence of a little iron oxide, was of a\ndelicate shade of pink. Thus, in the course of unknown ages had been\nbuilt up the wonderful Terraces of Rotomahana, structures which for\npurity of colour and beauty of sculpturing were unrivalled in the world.\nThe White Terrace covered an area of about four acres, the Pink Terrace\nwas a little smaller.\n\n[19] The heat of the geysers and hot-springs around Rotomahana was\ndoubtless derived from the volcanic fires which slumbered beneath the\nTarawera Mountain, standing at a distance of some miles. This mountain\nwas an old volcano, but its true nature was hardly recognized. On June\n10th, 1886, the old volcano awoke to new life, and a violent paroxysmal\neruption rent the mountain asunder, the chasm extending beyond its foot\nand through Rotomahana. The ground around the lake and beneath its waters\nto the depth of 500 feet was blown into the air, and the beauty of the\nterraces was lost to the world for ever.\u2014A. P. W. T.\n\n[20] Lennox Falls. Mt. Earnslaw.\u2014K. C.\n\n[21] The Mountain Lily (_Ranunculus Lyallii_) of the South Island is a\nlarge and handsome buttercup, perhaps the most beautiful of its kind.\nIts numerous flowers are four inches across, the petals being of a pure\nwaxy-white; the leaves are very large, round, and somewhat cup-shaped.\nIts favourite spot is by the side of some mountain stream.\u2014A. P. W. T.\n\n[22] The Mountain-parrot. Kea. (_Nestor notabilis_)\u2014A dull green parrot\nwhich inhabits the alpine mountains of New Zealand. It is found sitting\nabout the rocks and snow-grass, or seen circling high in the air, where\none can hear its call, which is like that of the European Stone Eagle.\nWhen the sheep died upon the hills or vast runs, the blowflies would\ndeposit their larv\u00e6 in the bodies. After a while the Keas hovering\nover would see the maggots moving, alight on the sheep, and feed upon\nthe insects, getting pieces of fat and meat with them. In this manner\nthe birds found it was an easier way of procuring food than by seeking\nberries and seeds, or searching for grubs, and so it became a habit for\nthem to attack even living sheep.\u2014A. R.\n\n       PRINTED BY GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LIMITED, ST JOHN\u2019S HOUSE,\n                         CLERKENWELL ROAD, E.C.","title":"A Southern Cross fairy tale","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":18341}