White Heron.
White Heron.
“What is the good of saying that?” asked the Tui, “I shan’t imitate you anymore. It is not likely the caterpillars, if they heard you, would stop to be eaten to please you. I’m off to the bush, near the stream,” continued the Tui, “where the white heron[13]is bringing up her aristocratic family in her nest in the tree-fern, I shall get some conversation worth listening to with her, for she’s a lady of education, and does not mix with every one!” and the Tui flew off.
“I say, old fellow,” called out Hal to the owl, “that was rather hard on you. I’d change my tune if I were you, I think.”
The owl put his brown head on one side, looked very wise for a moment, then shouted out at the top of his shrill voice, “More pork! more pork!”
“I’m afraid I can’t oblige you,” laughed Hal, “but if you’ll go farther into the bush you might tackle a few wild pigs if you like.”
“I expect he means ‘more mice,’” said little Cis; “perhaps he’s getting old, poor thing!”
But the owl shouted out “More pork! more pork!” and does so to this day.
“Come, children,” said Santa Claus, “I have more wonderful things to show you before the sun rises;” and he led them out of the forest and up a hill, from the brow of which they looked on a plain broken by deep gullies and bounded afar by dark mountain ranges. Scattered trees loomed vast and unreal in the misty light, and the children walked on silently, almost wishing they were at home again, but yet curious to know what else Santa Claus had to show them. Suddenly a miserable little cur ran out of the bushes, barking, and amidst the manuka and cabbage-trees they saw a raupo whare. Grotesque heads carved upon the gable and on the corner posts of the low roof grinned hideously at Hal and Cis, and they were very startled when some dark figures, wrapped in loose mats, ran out hastily, looking big and weird in the dim and uncertain light.
“They are not giants, are they?” whispered little Cis in a timid tone.
“No, no,” replied Hal, “they are only Maories; and see, they are more frightened of us than you are of them.”
The Maories, indeed, on seeing Santa Claus, his starry crown shining like a halo round his head, and Hal, whose face was lighted up by the Star of Love which he carried, were terrified, and uttering loud cries of “Aue! Aue!” they rushed back into their hut.
“They are only Maories; and see, they are more frightened of us than you are of them.”Page 26.
“They are only Maories; and see, they are more frightened of us than you are of them.”
Page 26.
“Why do they run away from us?” asked Cis.
“They, no doubt, thought we were spirits,” answered Santa Claus; “Maories are very much afraid of their dead grandfathers and grandmothers,” added he, laughing.
“I wonder why that is,” said Hal, “I should have thought they would be glad to see the people again who are kind and good, as grandfathers and grandmothers always are.”
By this time they had gone some little distance past the whare, and at the bottom of the hill they came to a narrow valley,[14]the sides of which were clad with a luxuriant growth of feathery manuka, so white with its numberless small blossoms, that in the faint light that comes before the summer dawn, the valley looked as though a snowstorm had passed over it. From hidden places amongst the shrubs, thick curling steam arose, now hiding the trees and bushes, and even veiling the faint stars above for a few seconds, then melting into thin air, leaving a warm dripping moisture on everything around. Mysterious hissing noises filled the air, and ever and anon the earth shook as though with fear.
The wondering, half-frightened children, tightly clasping each other’s hands, followed Santa Claus along the steep, zig-zag path that led down to the bottom of the valley; then, feeling the ground warm beneath her feet, little Cis said, “I am so frightened, Mr. Santa Claus, please may we go back?”
“Yes, I think weoughtto go back,” added Hal, “for it must be getting near breakfast-time now.”
“Do not be afraid, children, I will take care of you,” replied Santa Claus, “and I have such wonderful things to show you.”
Reassured by his kind voice, the children followed, keeping close together; Hal, with one arm round Cis, and with the other holding the Star of Love high above their heads, as they followed the path to the bottom of the valley. There they saw a stream rippling along; clear as crystal were its waters, and its banks covered with drooping ferns and tender mosses. Little Cis,stooping to gather some of the ferns, dipped her hand into a pool of water near by, and cried out, “Why, Hal, it’s quite hot!”
Yes, hot it was, and the steam itself still hotter, while amid the bushes, countless merry little springs bubbled up, boiling, from basins of yellow and pink stone.
“Why, it smells exactly like lucifer matches,—do they make them here, Mr. Santa Claus?” asked Hal, looking at the bright yellow sulphur on the ground.
“No,” laughed Santa Claus, “but I think they might.”
“I shall bring our cook here,” went on Hal, “she needn’t have a fire at all to cook our meals or to wash our clothes.” And he looked down into the clear steaming pool close by, edged with crumbling, many-coloured soil, and around, and even within which, delicate ferns were growing.
But Santa Claus’ starry crown was already shining faint on the pathway ahead, and the children tripped on lightly after him.
What lovely fairy glens they saw at each turn of the little path, carpeted with soft, bright green, and overhung with tender foliage, and Cis wished it were midnight that she might see the fairies dance. What fairy ball-rooms, too, with floors of pale pink marble, and pretty streamlets of warm water trickling near, for tired feet to paddle in!
But Santa Claus had stopped, and the children hurried up to his side, and there, in the midst of the thick bushes, they saw a small lake of clearest blue, and to its edge sloped down a gleaming floor of white, and the trees that drooped near to the water’s edge shone white, as though a hoar-frost had silvered each trunk and tiny twig.
“Oh! how lovely!” cried little Cis. “Is this like the snow in England, Mr. Santa Claus?”
“Not quite,” he answered, “though it is as beautiful. But listen, little ones!”
And as he spoke a chorus of voices was heard, faint, as though from the bowels of the earth, and then a low rumbling noise was followed by a mighty burst of steam from a hole a littleway off, and on the top of it were shot out a troop of laughing gnomes.
On the top of the geyser were shot out a troop of laughing gnomes.
On the top of the geyser were shot out a troop of laughing gnomes.
What funny little fellows they looked, with their long yellow legs, short bodies, and merry round faces beneath their yellowhats of all shapes and sizes. With many wild antics and strange capers they danced round the blue lake, singing:—
“Ha, ha! ha, ha! how jolly is life,We know no care, we know no strife;We dance, we sing, and merrily playThe long night through; and then by dayWe work, we delve in the ground below,And make Earth’s fountains merrily flow.We feed the fires, till the cold streams boil;We spare no trouble, we spare no toil,We make the dark pools bubble and hiss,Till the waters leap up the trees to kiss,With a roar, and a whirr, and a rush so high,That the bright drops sparkle and dance in the sky,Then fall with a soft tra la la! tra la la!And we laugh as they fall, ha, ha! ha, ha!”
“Ha, ha! ha, ha! how jolly is life,We know no care, we know no strife;We dance, we sing, and merrily playThe long night through; and then by dayWe work, we delve in the ground below,And make Earth’s fountains merrily flow.We feed the fires, till the cold streams boil;We spare no trouble, we spare no toil,We make the dark pools bubble and hiss,Till the waters leap up the trees to kiss,With a roar, and a whirr, and a rush so high,That the bright drops sparkle and dance in the sky,Then fall with a soft tra la la! tra la la!And we laugh as they fall, ha, ha! ha, ha!”
“Ha, ha! ha, ha! how jolly is life,We know no care, we know no strife;We dance, we sing, and merrily playThe long night through; and then by dayWe work, we delve in the ground below,And make Earth’s fountains merrily flow.We feed the fires, till the cold streams boil;We spare no trouble, we spare no toil,We make the dark pools bubble and hiss,Till the waters leap up the trees to kiss,With a roar, and a whirr, and a rush so high,That the bright drops sparkle and dance in the sky,Then fall with a soft tra la la! tra la la!And we laugh as they fall, ha, ha! ha, ha!”
“Ha, ha! ha, ha! how jolly is life,
We know no care, we know no strife;
We dance, we sing, and merrily play
The long night through; and then by day
We work, we delve in the ground below,
And make Earth’s fountains merrily flow.
We feed the fires, till the cold streams boil;
We spare no trouble, we spare no toil,
We make the dark pools bubble and hiss,
Till the waters leap up the trees to kiss,
With a roar, and a whirr, and a rush so high,
That the bright drops sparkle and dance in the sky,
Then fall with a soft tra la la! tra la la!
And we laugh as they fall, ha, ha! ha, ha!”
Then all the little gnomes, headed by Red Cap, their leader, jumped with merry shouts and laughter into the clear warm pool near by.
The children watched them for awhile, then Cis wandered off, picking up bits of petrified ferns and sticks out of a hot bubbling pool, and choice pieces of yellow sulphur, which, when broken off the steaming ground, showed myriads of sparkling crystals, and kind Santa Claus packed all her treasures in soft moss in a bag which he carried on his back.
Meanwhile, Hal envied the merry bathers, and as they called out to him to “come, too,” he quickly threw off his clothes and jumped into the little lake.
How glorious it was! The hot bubbling waters, the clear crystal depths, and the sides and floor of the bath yielding to the touch, as though padded with velvet! Was ever such a bath enjoyed before? Shouting and singing, the little gnomes seized Hal and popped him over the edge of the basin, and plump he fell into a stream of cold water on the other side. What a big breath he pulled at first, and then, how delicious the glow and the dive into the clear depths! What a good swim Hal had up the cold stream, racing the little gnomes who spluttered and splashed after him! Then back they all went into the blue lake, revelling in the tingling warmth. Again, out of that into another bath close by, where countless crystal bubbles rose from the soft sandyfloor, playing round the bathers like the dancing bubbles of sparkling wine.
But Hal heard Santa Claus calling to him to make haste, and he reluctantly jumped out, and flinging on his clothes, shouted to the gnomes, “I’ll come here for my Saturday-night tub, if you don’t mind; it’s awfully jolly.”
“All right,” answered the gnomes, running after Hal, who by this time had joined Cis and Santa Claus.
“Won’t you all come and have breakfast with us?” asked Red Cap.
“Well, I am rather hungry, and I expect Cis is, too. But what have you got for breakfast, Mr. Red Cap?”
“Porridge, to be sure. Didn’t you know we were hard-working Scotch boys? Who else would work as hard, or get as much out of the earth as we do?” answered a gnome in a huffed tone.
“I don’t know, I’m sure; but please don’t be offended,” replied Hal, “we’ll eat some porridge with pleasure.—ortryto,” he added in a low voice, for he did not care for porridge at home.
Red Cap led the way to where in the earth was the porridge-pot—a large hole full of boiling cream-coloured porridge, that hissed, and bubbled, and looked tempting enough. Cis and Hal, following the example of their guide, dipped sticks into it, and tasted the smooth paste, and what grimaces they both made, which they tried not to let Red Cap see! For the porridge was anything but pleasant, being like a mixture of rotten eggs and alum.
“Isn’t it good?” asked Red Cap, smacking his lips over it.
“Well,” said Cis, who wished to be polite, “it certainly is well boiled, and it is not at all lumpy, but—isn’t it ra—ther—earthy?”
Then, seeing the gnome’s disappointed face, she added, “But never mind, we’re trying to enjoy it; but I expect you have to be brought up to it, Mr. Red Cap, really to like it.”
“We’ll come for our next picnic here, and bring some tea for you,” said Hal, trying to make friends with Red Cap, “andperhaps you’ll boil the kettle for us—no, I mean, give us the water already boiled. I’m afraid it will smell and taste of rotten eggs, but that can’t be helped,” added Hal, in a low voice, to little Cis, sniffing the sulphurous fumes rising from the boiling cauldrons on all sides.
Santa Claus and the children now walked on, and Cis and Hal, getting accustomed to the strange scenes around, began to feel quite brave.
“There are not many birds here, Mr. Santa Claus,” said Cis, for they had only seen a few blight-birds flitting about; only the two little robins had come part of the way with her into the valley, then they had twittered their good-bye, and Cis missed her little feathered friends.
“See,” replied Santa Claus, and there amid the feathery manuka was an open space covered with layers of creamy-coloured stone, and in the centre was what looked like a huge bird’s nest,[15]formed of large white stems and branches crossed and recrossed, and pieces of petrified moss between. Each little twig was heavily laden with drops, apparently frozen, some thick as milk, some clear as crystal, while round and overhead the bushes too were white as snow.
“How beautiful!” cried Hal.
“But where is the bird, Mr. Santa Claus?” asked little Cis, “and what a big one it must be to make that nest!”
“Wait a little, and if you do not see the bird you shall hear him sing,” laughed Santa Claus.
The children stood silently waiting. Soon a low rumbling was heard below their feet, followed by hissing and bubbling noises that grew nearer and nearer, then died away, to begin again, louder, nearer than before, and making Cis creep up close to her brother and Santa Claus. Awe-struck, the children watched, and soon from the middle of the nest they saw bubbling waters that came and went in fitful gushes, as though battling against some unseen power below,—then roaring, fighting, boiling, a mighty column shot up high into the air above their heads, and clouds of steam rolled around, hiding for a little while the trees,and even the children, in a misty veil.[16]How beautiful the clear drops of the mighty fountain looked, as the water’s rose and fell, shining like dancing diamonds in the dawning light! Then out from their holes came the gnomes, singing again their merry song.
The Merry Song of the Gnomes.
We feed the fires till the cold streams boil,We spare no trouble we spare no toil:We make the dark pools bubble and hissTill the waters leap up the trees to kiss,With a roar, and a whirr and a rush so highThat the bright drops sparkle and dance in the skyThen fall with a soft tra la la la! tra la la la!And we laugh as they fall. Ha ha! ha ha!
We feed the fires till the cold streams boil,We spare no trouble we spare no toil:We make the dark pools bubble and hissTill the waters leap up the trees to kiss,With a roar, and a whirr and a rush so highThat the bright drops sparkle and dance in the skyThen fall with a soft tra la la la! tra la la la!And we laugh as they fall. Ha ha! ha ha!
We feed the fires till the cold streams boil,We spare no trouble we spare no toil:We make the dark pools bubble and hissTill the waters leap up the trees to kiss,With a roar, and a whirr and a rush so highThat the bright drops sparkle and dance in the skyThen fall with a soft tra la la la! tra la la la!And we laugh as they fall. Ha ha! ha ha!
We feed the fires till the cold streams boil,
We spare no trouble we spare no toil:
We make the dark pools bubble and hiss
Till the waters leap up the trees to kiss,
With a roar, and a whirr and a rush so high
That the bright drops sparkle and dance in the sky
Then fall with a soft tra la la la! tra la la la!
And we laugh as they fall. Ha ha! ha ha!
Then they danced around the roaring geyser, till the waters fell lower and lower, and amid sobs and sighs died away in the deep dark hole, and all was still and silent as before in the mysterious bird’s nest.
Without waiting to hear the children’s wondering remarks, Santa Claus took them by the hand, and they seemed to pass quickly over a large tract of country, until they came to a creek, which they soon saw from its steaming sides was hot, and which ran into a lake lying quiet and peaceful;—only the pukekos[17]rose now and again, screeching from the reedy shallows. Pushing their way through thick scrub, and walking with great care between bubbling cauldrons and deep holes from which steam belched forth with a mighty roar and thud, Hal found it difficult to carry the Star of Love safely, and asked Santa Claus what he should do with it.
“Hold it high overhead, and then stop for a minute and watch,” replied Santa Claus, and, doing as he was bid, Hal was astonished to see the Star float away into the pale grey sky, becoming fainter and fainter, till it disappeared in the misty dawn.
“You have carried it so long with care,” said Santa Claus, “that by day, though unseen, it will ever shine to guide you, and at night, though passing clouds may sometimes hide it, if you look for it, you will soon find it again.”
“I shall look for it, Mr. Santa Claus,” said little Cis; “I often see the stars shining in at my window when I am in bed, and I shall ask God not to let the angels forget to light that beautiful one for me to see.”
As little Cis finished speaking, their old friend Red Cap appeared on the path before them.
“Where did you come from?” cried Hal, “we left you at the bird’s nest.”
“Yes,” answered Red Cap, “but we gnomes do not follow the paths you mortals tread, but have many and hidden passages under the earth, and many underground streams by which we passquickly from south to north. So, here I am, you see, and now I am going to show you the realm of the King and Queen of the Gnomes.”
“Thatwillbe jolly!” cried Hal.
“Will it take very long, Mr. Red Cap?” asked Cis. “I have been thinking of mother, and she will want me back soon, I am sure.” And the child’s face grew thoughtful, and her large eyes looked sad and wistful.
“You shall be back for breakfast on Christmas morning, I promise you, little Cis,” said Santa Claus; “Mother will not expect you before then. I am going to leave you a little while with Red Cap now, for I have some other children expecting me before the sun is up; but I will meet you after you have seen where the King and Queen of the Gnomes live.”
“You will not forget us, Mr. Santa Claus, will you?” asked Cis, “because we could never get home without you.”
“No fear of that, little one, I never fail the children who believe in me,” and so saying he disappeared from their sight. Hal called out,—
“Good-bye, old fellow, I hope you’ll make haste back,” and then, taking Cis’s hand, for he thought she was a little timid, he followed Red Cap until they came to the end of the thick bushes. “Look,” said Red Cap, “this is the dwelling place of our King and Queen.” Beautiful indeed was the sight that met their gaze; from the edge of the lake, tier upon tier of milky white terraces[18]sloped upwards to a great height, and over them fell a glistening veil of water which filled the air with its rippling song as it sought the placid lake below.
“Oh! let us paddle,” said Hal to Cis, and no sooner was it said than done, and how delightful was the soft, warm water trickling over their feet!
The children then followed as Red Cap led the way from tier to tier, looking into the numberless marble baths of all shapes and sizes that they passed, filled with coloured waters, clear and inviting, pale blue and green—the sides of the baths edged withfantastic wreaths and carved alabaster fringe, from the countless points of which overflowing drops fell with a soft musical sound.
How dazzling was the milky white floor as they stepped upwards and looked down on the stretching terraces gemmed with their glistening pools! Truly it was wonderland! A fit dwelling-place for the King and Queen; a fit scene for the midnight revels of Gnomes and Fays! Hal and Cis found many a little petrified treasure as they lingered here and there,—twigs and bits of moss and fern, and even insects white and glistening as the terrace itself.
“Oh! see, Mr. Red Cap,” called out little Cis, picking up what looked like a perfect white dragonfly, “what has happened to the poor dragonfly!” and she held it in her hand tenderly.
“That is the way the gnomes punish any insect that comes near where our King and Queen live,” answered Red Cap; “the singing waters lure them in, and then turn them to stone itself.”
“Poor things,” said little Cis, “how hard-hearted the pretty waters must be, and they look so soft and nice.”
“That is often the way with things,” remarked Red Cap; “at least so I’ve heard it said.”
As they came near the topmost tier of baths, the water became hotter and hotter, and there, in a gorge of the hill side, with the feathery manuka to its very edge, was a huge cauldron of opal-coloured steaming water.
Side by side, with timid steps, the children went close to the edge, and, looking down, saw what Red Cap told them was the entrance to the King’s palace.
Clusters of white pillars rose in stately grandeur, surrounded with carved wreaths of leaves and flowers, looking as if formed of frozen snow in the blue waters; forests of ferns hung their delicate stone fronds in the shadowy depths; quaint shaped mushrooms and coral-like bushes grew here and there ’mid heavily fringed leaves of many a strange shape.
“Oh! may we go down there?” asked Hal.
“No,” replied Red Cap, “it would be death to mortals to gothere; even fairies cannot enter; but they are allowed to bathe in the pools, or to dance with the gnomes on moonlight nights, when our King and Queen hold their court. Only the gnomes can enter the palace halls below the pool, and many strange sights and sounds are there, and it is hard work there for the gnomes, I can tell you. See,” went on Red Cap, “the King and Queen are away just now, and the gnomes are busy cleaning out the palace, and soon they will make the big fountain play, and fill the terrace baths afresh.”
“Where have the King and Queen gone?” asked Hal, “and shan’t we see them?”
“I think not to-night,” said Red Cap, “for they have gone to their summer palace over there,” and he pointed to the other side of the lake, where the children saw another terraced realm even more beautiful than the one they were on, being of a pale pink colour, like the tender flush of a warm sunset upon beds of snow, and over all the falling waters danced and gleamed.
“Are there as beautiful bathing places over there too?” asked Hal.
“Yes,” said Red Cap, “and there is a large bath with soft downy sides and floor in which mortals sometimes bathe. But they are seldom allowed to see into the depths of the huge cauldron at the top of this pink terrace, for, by the order of the King, soft clouds of steam cover it, which are rarely lifted. Some favoured ones who have looked into the boiling depths say the forests and beauteous flowery forms there are even more wonderful than those you see here at the entrance of the Winter Palace.”
“Oh! look!” cried Hal excitedly to Cis just as Red Cap ceased speaking; then, out of numberless small caves in the blue cauldron at their feet jumped hundreds of little black gnomes, having thick coats made out of sulphur cakes, and on their heads milky white helmets. Up from the blue waters they sprang, capering with wild delight round the edges of the cauldron and the numberless basins of the white terraces below, shouting, laughing, and then bursting ever and anon into wild chorus.
“’Tis done! ’tis done! our labour is o’er,We’ve cleaned each hall, and polished each floor.We’ve made the matches, and lighted the firesThe engines to start as our King desires;List to the hammers that thump and bang,To the piston’s thud and the anvil’s clang.Hurrah! hurrah! for the rumble and rush,The boiling pools that bubble and gush,Then upwards burst, and the steam clouds riseTo join their brethren that float in the skies.Now the fountains play o’er the palace halls,And the rainbow-arch o’er the portal falls,Hark to the din! and hark to the roar!’Tis done, ’tis done; our labour is o’er.”
“’Tis done! ’tis done! our labour is o’er,We’ve cleaned each hall, and polished each floor.We’ve made the matches, and lighted the firesThe engines to start as our King desires;List to the hammers that thump and bang,To the piston’s thud and the anvil’s clang.Hurrah! hurrah! for the rumble and rush,The boiling pools that bubble and gush,Then upwards burst, and the steam clouds riseTo join their brethren that float in the skies.Now the fountains play o’er the palace halls,And the rainbow-arch o’er the portal falls,Hark to the din! and hark to the roar!’Tis done, ’tis done; our labour is o’er.”
“’Tis done! ’tis done! our labour is o’er,We’ve cleaned each hall, and polished each floor.We’ve made the matches, and lighted the firesThe engines to start as our King desires;List to the hammers that thump and bang,To the piston’s thud and the anvil’s clang.Hurrah! hurrah! for the rumble and rush,The boiling pools that bubble and gush,Then upwards burst, and the steam clouds riseTo join their brethren that float in the skies.Now the fountains play o’er the palace halls,And the rainbow-arch o’er the portal falls,Hark to the din! and hark to the roar!’Tis done, ’tis done; our labour is o’er.”
“’Tis done! ’tis done! our labour is o’er,
We’ve cleaned each hall, and polished each floor.
We’ve made the matches, and lighted the fires
The engines to start as our King desires;
List to the hammers that thump and bang,
To the piston’s thud and the anvil’s clang.
Hurrah! hurrah! for the rumble and rush,
The boiling pools that bubble and gush,
Then upwards burst, and the steam clouds rise
To join their brethren that float in the skies.
Now the fountains play o’er the palace halls,
And the rainbow-arch o’er the portal falls,
Hark to the din! and hark to the roar!
’Tis done, ’tis done; our labour is o’er.”
And the children and Red Cap saw the water in the big cauldron begin to bubble at the bottom, and then rise rapidly higher and higher.
“Run to the hill!” cried Red Cap.
Hal and Cis needed no second bidding, but ran down the terrace and then climbed up the hill-side as quickly as they could with their bare feet, and from the midst of the bushes watched the big geyser shoot up into the sky with a terrific roar.
Soon the cauldron overflowed in tossing wavelets that swept downwards from terrace to terrace, filling to overflowing the countless baths on the way, and forming one beautiful sparkling cascade—in many parts blue as the sky overhead—from the top to the lake below, which was itself blue as a summer sky.
The gnomes, perching on the bushes and flax clumps round, nodded their heads approvingly, and sang:—
“The cascade falls o’er each marble lip,Where at night the fairies merrily trip,As the rippling waters rise and fall,We join their dance on a gleaming wall,Or climbing high on the moon’s bright rays,We sing till the sun on the terrace plays,Then hide again in our holes and caves,Where our tired feet the water laves,And we watch poor mortals come and go,They see not the fun we have below.Oh! what tricks we play! They know not whyThe geysers gush, and the steam-clouds fly:As they hear us chuckle and laugh, ha! ha!They say, ’tis the water’s song, tra la la!Hurrah! for the fun in our hidden homes,Hurrah! for the life of the merry gnomes!”
“The cascade falls o’er each marble lip,Where at night the fairies merrily trip,As the rippling waters rise and fall,We join their dance on a gleaming wall,Or climbing high on the moon’s bright rays,We sing till the sun on the terrace plays,Then hide again in our holes and caves,Where our tired feet the water laves,And we watch poor mortals come and go,They see not the fun we have below.Oh! what tricks we play! They know not whyThe geysers gush, and the steam-clouds fly:As they hear us chuckle and laugh, ha! ha!They say, ’tis the water’s song, tra la la!Hurrah! for the fun in our hidden homes,Hurrah! for the life of the merry gnomes!”
“The cascade falls o’er each marble lip,Where at night the fairies merrily trip,As the rippling waters rise and fall,We join their dance on a gleaming wall,Or climbing high on the moon’s bright rays,We sing till the sun on the terrace plays,Then hide again in our holes and caves,Where our tired feet the water laves,And we watch poor mortals come and go,They see not the fun we have below.Oh! what tricks we play! They know not whyThe geysers gush, and the steam-clouds fly:As they hear us chuckle and laugh, ha! ha!They say, ’tis the water’s song, tra la la!Hurrah! for the fun in our hidden homes,Hurrah! for the life of the merry gnomes!”
“The cascade falls o’er each marble lip,
Where at night the fairies merrily trip,
As the rippling waters rise and fall,
We join their dance on a gleaming wall,
Or climbing high on the moon’s bright rays,
We sing till the sun on the terrace plays,
Then hide again in our holes and caves,
Where our tired feet the water laves,
And we watch poor mortals come and go,
They see not the fun we have below.
Oh! what tricks we play! They know not why
The geysers gush, and the steam-clouds fly:
As they hear us chuckle and laugh, ha! ha!
They say, ’tis the water’s song, tra la la!
Hurrah! for the fun in our hidden homes,
Hurrah! for the life of the merry gnomes!”
“Run to the hill!” cried Red Cap.
“Run to the hill!” cried Red Cap.
And down the funny little fellows jumped and rushed laughing into the delicately fringed caves beneath the marble baths.
“What jolly little boys they are,” said Hal, “and what a good time they seem to be having!”
“Yes,” replied Red Cap, “they allseemhappy; but I am sorry to say there are a lot of discontented ones below, and I should not wonder if they strike one day; and if so, the passages will get clogged, and there will be a grand blow up, and I don’t know what will happen to our King and Queen and their beautiful fairy realms,”[19]and Red Cap heaved a deep sigh. “But we must go now,” added he.
The children ran down to where they had left their shoes and stockings, and putting them on, followed their guide to the creek.
There in the reeds, close to the bank, they found a canoe; it had pointed ends, and was hollowed out of a large tree trunk, and the bottom was covered with the small leafy twigs of the manuka.
“Get in, children,” said Red Cap.
“There are no seats,” said little Cis.
“Never mind,” answered Red Cap; “sit quite still on the bottom, and hold tightly to the sides.”
So Hal helped Cis in carefully, for it seemed as if very little would upset the canoe, and Red Cap, taking up a paddle, pushed out into the stream.
Then, how quickly they floated along on the rapidly running water; how delightful was the swift motion without any effort, making the children feel giddy as some swift eddy hurried them round the turns of the stream. On, on past the reedy banks, over deep pools and weedy shallows, faster and faster, Red Cap steering here and there with a touch of the paddle.
At last they came to the end of the rapids, and Red Cap steered the canoe to a little curve in the banks, and Cis and Hal jumped out.
“It was splendid,” cried Hal, “to come all that way so quickly, without any trouble, wasn’t it, Cis?”
“Yes,” replied Cis, hesitating a little; “but it rather took my breath away, and I was afraid we might be upset.”
“Oh! it was safe enough,” said Hal with an air of superior wisdom, “as long as you sat still; but I suppose it is difficult for girls to do that. Where now, Mr. Red Cap?” he added.
“I must leave you now, children; but here is Santa Claus waiting for you.”
And there indeed they saw their old friend sitting on a bank.
The children rushed to him, for they were delighted to see him again; then, turning, they bid Red Cap good-bye, and thanked him heartily for all his kindness to them, Hal adding, “I shall tell other children of the wonderful things you have shown us, Mr. Red Cap, that I shall, for I had often read of fairy-land, but I had never been to it before, and I think it is a jolly place.”
And with another good-bye, Red Cap vanished from their sight.
“So you have enjoyed yourselves, children? I am glad of that,” said Santa Claus. “And now, is there anything more you would like to see before you go home?”
“Yes,” cried Hal, “Ishouldlike to see some real snow, the snow mother tells us of. Can we, please?”
Cis added her entreaty to Hal’s, and Santa Claus said he would take them where they could see some.
The morning had come, but the sun only now and again shone through the gray clouds that floated low.
“Come,” said Santa Claus; and taking a hand of each, he led them up to where a large, soft cloud rested on the hill-side, and he bade the children sit down with him on it.
Up, up floated the billowy mass into the sky, and glided away to the south. How smoothly they went along, wafted by the morning breezes! and Cis and Hal, seated on their soft cushions, gazed dreamily down on the country that sped away so quickly beneath them.
“How small the big mountains look!” cried Hal; “and the towns and villages look like toy ones.”
And then they passed over big streams, and a wide strait, that looked like a silver streak in the far depths. Away, away they floated; the sky was now clearer, and off the hills, and out of the valleys the mists were rolling, their silvery edges gleaming in the fitful sunlight.
“Look! we are going over some big ponds now,” said little Cis.
“Ponds!” exclaimed Santa Claus, “those are large lakes, see how they spread out like sheets of silver water!”
The cloud was by this time passing over one of the largest lakes, and very beautiful looked the soft shining waters surrounded by mountains, on the tops of which the clouds still rested. Then the cloud floated to the far end of the lake, and glided down a narrow valley in which the milky blue waters of a glacier-stream rushed and roared, though no sound reached the children, who could only see its fighting wavelets.
On they went, watching the clouds roll from the tree-clad depths and rocky heights, till at last they uttered cries of joy and wonder.
There, in front of them, the mighty snow-crowned hills pierced the grey clouds, catching the rosy rays of the now rapidly-rising sun. Vast ice-fields stretched far and wide, their rifts blue as the breaks in the sky above, their jagged peaks gleaming with a thousand diamond lights; and how soft and inviting looked the beds of snow in the hollows!
“The snow! The snow at last!” cried Hal and Cis, as they saw the hills and their gleaming sides and peaks; “oh! do let us get down, Mr. Santa Claus.”
“Wait,” he replied; and the cloud glided close to a gorge in one of the mountains, where a mighty foaming torrent[20]rushed down the rocky steeps to the valley beneath, the silver streaks thousands of feet overhead showing where the waters ran out from the glacier fields.
When the cloud stopped, the children jumped off and rushed to the edge of the waterfall, and, holding on to the trees at the side, were about to stoop down for a drink, when Santa Claus cried out, “Do not try to drink there, children, you will be swept away by the rushing waters. Come with me, and I will show you where you can get a draught of clear still water.”
Hal and Cis turned reluctantly, and Santa Claus took them where, in a dry water-course, amid big boulders, they saw clusters of the pure white flowers of the mountain-lily,[21]and their guide, pointing to these, said, “See there, if you are thirsty.”
“The flowers are very beautiful, Mr. Santa Claus,” said Cis, “but it iswaterwe want, and I amsothirsty.”
“Look again,” replied Santa Claus.
There, below the flowers, were large cup-shaped leaves full of clear cold water; Cis and Hal darted forward to gather them and drink, when the leaves seemed to be shaken as if with the wind, but there was not wind enough for that, and, stooping down, they saw two little fat dwarfs holding the stems and shaking with laughter.
What ugly little fellows they were! Hal thought at first they were green frogs, for they were dressed in tight-fitting green coats, their big mouths reached from ear to ear, and their hands and feet were webbed.
“Hulloa!” cried Hal, “who are you?”
Instead of answering, they only laughed and choked, and choked and laughed.
“You seem to have got bad colds,” said little Cis.
“Perhaps, when you have done, you will tell us what you are laughing at?” continued Hal, in aggrieved tones.
Still they laughed and choked.
“I wish I were at home; my mother would give you some ipecacuanha wine, for I think you have got the croup,” said little Cis, in a troubled voice.
At this the dwarfs opened their mouths wider than before, and, at last, in low croaking voices began a duet:—
“My name it is Gup!”“My name it is Joke!”“We’ve got such bad colds (together)We can only croak.“We are both so fat, (together)And we can’t tell why,Unless it’s becauseWe live near the sky.”“So close to the cloudsThere’s no need to climb,”Said Joke, “so all dayI sit here and rhyme.“I feed upon flies,And grumble and grunt,Or for nice fat snailsAl night-time I hunt.”“Be quiet,” cried Gup.“That I won’t,” said Joke;“Your voice is just likeA pig’s in a poke!”“And little care IIf it is,” said Gup;“I’m tired to deathOf holding this cup.”“I like to be fat,I hate to drink dew,It’s a weak cold draughtThat nourishes few.“Great poets, they say,Must live near the skies!”“That’s me!” cried out Joke;“I’m ever so wise!“I know no grammar,I read no books,I have but studiedDame Nature’s looks.“A poet to gainThe top of the tree,Has to use long words,And drone like a bee.”So we both make rhymes,And chuckle and grinAt the people who listen,And cry, “What a sin“‘These two clever boysShould not be extolled!’”“Stop! stop!” cried out Joke,“Where has the grub rolled?”
“My name it is Gup!”“My name it is Joke!”“We’ve got such bad colds (together)We can only croak.“We are both so fat, (together)And we can’t tell why,Unless it’s becauseWe live near the sky.”“So close to the cloudsThere’s no need to climb,”Said Joke, “so all dayI sit here and rhyme.“I feed upon flies,And grumble and grunt,Or for nice fat snailsAl night-time I hunt.”“Be quiet,” cried Gup.“That I won’t,” said Joke;“Your voice is just likeA pig’s in a poke!”“And little care IIf it is,” said Gup;“I’m tired to deathOf holding this cup.”“I like to be fat,I hate to drink dew,It’s a weak cold draughtThat nourishes few.“Great poets, they say,Must live near the skies!”“That’s me!” cried out Joke;“I’m ever so wise!“I know no grammar,I read no books,I have but studiedDame Nature’s looks.“A poet to gainThe top of the tree,Has to use long words,And drone like a bee.”So we both make rhymes,And chuckle and grinAt the people who listen,And cry, “What a sin“‘These two clever boysShould not be extolled!’”“Stop! stop!” cried out Joke,“Where has the grub rolled?”
“My name it is Gup!”“My name it is Joke!”“We’ve got such bad colds (together)We can only croak.
“My name it is Gup!”
“My name it is Joke!”
“We’ve got such bad colds (together)
We can only croak.
“We are both so fat, (together)And we can’t tell why,Unless it’s becauseWe live near the sky.”
“We are both so fat, (together)
And we can’t tell why,
Unless it’s because
We live near the sky.”
“So close to the cloudsThere’s no need to climb,”Said Joke, “so all dayI sit here and rhyme.
“So close to the clouds
There’s no need to climb,”
Said Joke, “so all day
I sit here and rhyme.
“I feed upon flies,And grumble and grunt,Or for nice fat snailsAl night-time I hunt.”
“I feed upon flies,
And grumble and grunt,
Or for nice fat snails
Al night-time I hunt.”
“Be quiet,” cried Gup.“That I won’t,” said Joke;“Your voice is just likeA pig’s in a poke!”
“Be quiet,” cried Gup.
“That I won’t,” said Joke;
“Your voice is just like
A pig’s in a poke!”
“And little care IIf it is,” said Gup;“I’m tired to deathOf holding this cup.”
“And little care I
If it is,” said Gup;
“I’m tired to death
Of holding this cup.”
“I like to be fat,I hate to drink dew,It’s a weak cold draughtThat nourishes few.
“I like to be fat,
I hate to drink dew,
It’s a weak cold draught
That nourishes few.
“Great poets, they say,Must live near the skies!”“That’s me!” cried out Joke;“I’m ever so wise!
“Great poets, they say,
Must live near the skies!”
“That’s me!” cried out Joke;
“I’m ever so wise!
“I know no grammar,I read no books,I have but studiedDame Nature’s looks.
“I know no grammar,
I read no books,
I have but studied
Dame Nature’s looks.
“A poet to gainThe top of the tree,Has to use long words,And drone like a bee.”
“A poet to gain
The top of the tree,
Has to use long words,
And drone like a bee.”
So we both make rhymes,And chuckle and grinAt the people who listen,And cry, “What a sin
So we both make rhymes,
And chuckle and grin
At the people who listen,
And cry, “What a sin
“‘These two clever boysShould not be extolled!’”“Stop! stop!” cried out Joke,“Where has the grub rolled?”
“‘These two clever boys
Should not be extolled!’”
“Stop! stop!” cried out Joke,
“Where has the grub rolled?”
“What are you looking for?” asked the children.
“We are looking for our dinner,” replied the dwarfs, who, during the latter part of their singing, had been hunting under the leaves and down the slippery slope for a big fat grub which they had carefully stowed away for a meal, but which had disappeared.
“I’d rolled him all upjust under this cup!”With a grunt cried out Gup.“Yes! grunt and croak,You pig in a poke;You’re to blame,” cried Joke.“I’ve told you full oftNot to gaze up aloft—That grub wassosoft!He was such a prize!A sight for sore eyesWhen made into pies!”And Joke heaved big sighs.
“I’d rolled him all upjust under this cup!”With a grunt cried out Gup.“Yes! grunt and croak,You pig in a poke;You’re to blame,” cried Joke.“I’ve told you full oftNot to gaze up aloft—That grub wassosoft!He was such a prize!A sight for sore eyesWhen made into pies!”And Joke heaved big sighs.
“I’d rolled him all upjust under this cup!”With a grunt cried out Gup.“Yes! grunt and croak,You pig in a poke;You’re to blame,” cried Joke.“I’ve told you full oftNot to gaze up aloft—That grub wassosoft!He was such a prize!A sight for sore eyesWhen made into pies!”And Joke heaved big sighs.
“I’d rolled him all up
just under this cup!”
With a grunt cried out Gup.
“Yes! grunt and croak,
You pig in a poke;
You’re to blame,” cried Joke.
“I’ve told you full oft
Not to gaze up aloft—
That grub wassosoft!
He was such a prize!
A sight for sore eyes
When made into pies!”
And Joke heaved big sighs.
“Oh, dear! oh, dear!” said little Cis, “pray don’t quarrel over a grub.”
“Quarrel, indeed!” cried a voice out of the bushes; “they’re always quarrelling!”
It was a plump Maori hen who thus spoke, and she added, “If they’d leave off making rhymes, and attend to the business of every-day life, it would be far better. While they sat looking up at the skies, the grub rolled down, and I caught him and ate him, for it was a pity he should be wasted. In fact,” added the hen, with a satisfied nod, “as a rule, they find the grubs, and I eat them!”
At this, the dwarfs got so puffed out with anger, that the children were afraid they would burst, they rolled their eyes round and round, in search of something to throw at the Maori hen, but she ran away into the bushes beyond their reach.
“I should be glad if you’d give us a drink out of those green cups of yours,” said Hal; “and couldn’t you make some better poetry? if so, we’d like to hear it very much.”
The dwarfs then handed the children each a mountain-lily leaf full of cool dew, saying:—
“To you we hold the fairy cup,And bid you drink of sparkling dew,The stars have gone, the sun is up,Soon must we hide from mortal view.But ere we say good-bye, we bidYe upward, ever upward go;Look to the Star that shines above,Though oft you cull the flowers below.’Tis Christmas morn, the Bell-bird’s chimesRise from the distant woods; o’er hillsWhere rabbits skip, there softly ringsThe music of a thousand rills.A merry Christmas! then we sing;A merry time for one and all!Let not the poor pass by your gates,Let from your hands the good gifts fall.We merry dwarfs have but one gift,To thirsty souls we hold it up,And bid them drink refreshing dewFrom out our cool green fairy cup.But ere we say good-bye we bidYe upwards, ever upwards go;Look to the Star that shines above,E’en though you cull the flowers below.”
“To you we hold the fairy cup,And bid you drink of sparkling dew,The stars have gone, the sun is up,Soon must we hide from mortal view.But ere we say good-bye, we bidYe upward, ever upward go;Look to the Star that shines above,Though oft you cull the flowers below.’Tis Christmas morn, the Bell-bird’s chimesRise from the distant woods; o’er hillsWhere rabbits skip, there softly ringsThe music of a thousand rills.A merry Christmas! then we sing;A merry time for one and all!Let not the poor pass by your gates,Let from your hands the good gifts fall.We merry dwarfs have but one gift,To thirsty souls we hold it up,And bid them drink refreshing dewFrom out our cool green fairy cup.But ere we say good-bye we bidYe upwards, ever upwards go;Look to the Star that shines above,E’en though you cull the flowers below.”
“To you we hold the fairy cup,And bid you drink of sparkling dew,The stars have gone, the sun is up,Soon must we hide from mortal view.But ere we say good-bye, we bidYe upward, ever upward go;Look to the Star that shines above,Though oft you cull the flowers below.’Tis Christmas morn, the Bell-bird’s chimesRise from the distant woods; o’er hillsWhere rabbits skip, there softly ringsThe music of a thousand rills.A merry Christmas! then we sing;A merry time for one and all!Let not the poor pass by your gates,Let from your hands the good gifts fall.We merry dwarfs have but one gift,To thirsty souls we hold it up,And bid them drink refreshing dewFrom out our cool green fairy cup.But ere we say good-bye we bidYe upwards, ever upwards go;Look to the Star that shines above,E’en though you cull the flowers below.”
“To you we hold the fairy cup,
And bid you drink of sparkling dew,
The stars have gone, the sun is up,
Soon must we hide from mortal view.
But ere we say good-bye, we bid
Ye upward, ever upward go;
Look to the Star that shines above,
Though oft you cull the flowers below.
’Tis Christmas morn, the Bell-bird’s chimes
Rise from the distant woods; o’er hills
Where rabbits skip, there softly rings
The music of a thousand rills.
A merry Christmas! then we sing;
A merry time for one and all!
Let not the poor pass by your gates,
Let from your hands the good gifts fall.
We merry dwarfs have but one gift,
To thirsty souls we hold it up,
And bid them drink refreshing dew
From out our cool green fairy cup.
But ere we say good-bye we bid
Ye upwards, ever upwards go;
Look to the Star that shines above,
E’en though you cull the flowers below.”
“I wonder if they mean our Star of Love,” said little Cis.
“Perhaps so,” said Hal, “though I don’t see it anywhere just now.”
Hal stooped down to where the little dwarfs were hiding themselves under the leaves, but somehow they and the big stalks seemed to get all mixed up, and he then could see nothing but the stalks, and began to think he must have dreamt all the rest.
Just then a Maori hen, with an inquisitive air, came out of the fern, and Hal, seeing it, cried out,—
“By-the-bye, old thief, where are those buttons of mine you stole?”
“I don’t know,” replied the hen. Indignant mutterings were uttered by some other hens gathering round:—
“Wenever stole any buttons, it must have been some country cousin of ours; we never think of stealing anything,” protested the crowd indignantly.
“Well, you see,” replied Hal, “all your family have got a bad name; but there may be some honest ones amongst you.”
But the offended hens did not wait to hear more, and scuttled off into the bushes.
The children, seeing that Santa Claus was beckoning to them to go on, tried to get up the slope quickly; but how slippery the stretches of snow-grass were! they often stumbled, and had to hold on tightly to the silvery tufts to keep from falling backwards into the awful depths. Many a time did Hal help little Cis, for he still had the wand in his hand, and used it as a stick to lean upon.
“We shall soon get to the snow now,” said Santa Claus, waiting for the children, and pointing above them, where the eternal peaks were shining.
“What is that?” cried Hal, as he heard a loud thundering, as of a huge mass falling from some great height, waking the echoes far and near.
“You will know soon,” answered Santa Claus; and helping the children up the last steep ledges, they came in sight of the vast fields of snow and ice.
Proceeding in single file along the narrow path under his guidance, he at length placed them on a spot whence they could safely watch the avalanches thundering from the heights, down the rugged mountain side to the valley below, and how wonderful it was to see the huge masses of ice falling, sliding, dashing from ledge to ledge! Then from the clear sky above them they heard a voice calling, “Ke-a, ke-a. Come up, come up.”