Kea.
Kea.
“What is that?” asked little Cis, who had not spoken, but, sitting close to Hal, had been watching the wonderful scene.
“I do not know,” said Hal, “but it looks like a big mountain parrot that I’ve seen pictures of in our new book on New Zealand birds.”
“Is that what it is, Mr. Santa Claus?”
“Yes, Hal, and it is a cruel bird,[22]for it will fasten its claws into the back of any sheep that has wandered away from its companions or is floundering in the snow, and then, digging itssharp beak through the flesh, it feeds upon the fat part it likes best. The poor sheep, driven frantic by the pain, rushes on and on, till it sinks down exhausted to die; and then the Kea, having got the dainty bit it wanted, leaves its prey, and goes off to seek a fresh victim.”
“How cruel!” said little Cis, her eyes filling with tears.
“But come, children,” said Santa Claus, “I must take you near the snow,” and he led them to where the snow lay white and pure.
The children rushed to fill their hands with it, and shouted for joy.
“How cold it is!” cried Hal.
“How beautifully white and soft!” said little Cis.
And the children began to pelt each other, their merry laughter ringing on the clear air.
“Let’s have a shy at Santa Claus,” whispered Hal to his sister; and, making a big snow-ball, their eyes sparkling with fun, they threw it suddenly at their guide, who was sitting on a rock near by.
But how astonished they were, when the snow-ball hit him, to see it gradually spread out and cover him.
“Good-bye, children! Good-bye! good-bye!” said Santa Claus in a low muffled voice; and then, all that was left of their kind guide was a heap of snow.
“Oh! what have we done!” cried Cis, as she looked round and round for Santa Claus.
She thought the heap of snow was something like him in shape, but then it wasonlya heap of snow, and poor Cis sat down and cried.
Hal tried to look brave, but felt inclined to cry too, when he remembered how far they were from home.
“How shall we get down the mountain? How shall we get back to mother?” moaned Cis, and the tears ran down her cheeks afresh.
Then from out the snow-heap sprang hundreds of little long-leggedsprites, with high pointed ice-caps on their heads, and wearing coats of sparkling snow, the icicle-fringe of which jingled merrily.
What round, rosy faces they had! What twinkling blue eyes! In their hands they carried frost lances or little crystal spades, which they flourished in the air as they sprang up from the snow, making flashes of light in the sun.
“Who are you?” cried Hal.
“Are you the children of Santa Claus?” asked little Cis, “and if so, can you tell us where he has gone, please?”
“We are his servants,” shouted they, “and he has sent us to help you; for he has started on his journey to the Old World, where the children will soon be looking for him.”
“Oh! is that where he has gone!” said little Cis with a relieved air, glad to find they had not killed him; “and will you help us to go home? because I think it must be Christmas morning, and mother will be expecting us;” and little Cis thought she could hear the Bell-bird’s chimes, as she had heard it many a time in the early morning.
“Yes, we will help you,” answered the sprites.
Just then they heard the bird circling over their heads, again crying, “Ke-a! Ke-a! Come up! come up!” and Hal, helping little Cis, and planting his stick firmly, step by step, in the snow, followed the sprites, who tripped lightly on, looking like points of dancing light.
At last, after hard climbing, they reached the ice-clad side of the highest peak. How beautiful the prospect in the bright sunlight! The clouds all gone; nothing but the clear blue sky above and around. All was still, save when the avalanches thundered down from the heights. The children stood and watched the huge masses of ice as they slid down, now here, now there from the shining peaks, to fall like powdered snow into the foaming glacier stream in the dim depths below.
Meanwhile the little sprites were hard at work digging, cutting, shaping a huge block of ice.
“What are you making?” asked Hal. “Can we help?”
“Yes, if you like,” said the sprites, and they gave him and Cis two little spades. The children were soon quite hot, working as the sprites bade them, loosening and shaping the huge block of ice; while every now and then they would all stop, and pelt each other with the powdered ice, and the sprites sang:—
“Pelt us, pelt us, we don’t care,We love the snow so crisp and fair;We will shape and we will dig,Till a chariot white and bigWe have cut, for those who’d fainHasten to their home again.Slide and slip, and slip and slide,Thunderous roll, and mighty crash!In the chariot come and ride,Down into the depths to dash.Mystic trip for those who roam;One wild rush: Hurrah for home!”
“Pelt us, pelt us, we don’t care,We love the snow so crisp and fair;We will shape and we will dig,Till a chariot white and bigWe have cut, for those who’d fainHasten to their home again.Slide and slip, and slip and slide,Thunderous roll, and mighty crash!In the chariot come and ride,Down into the depths to dash.Mystic trip for those who roam;One wild rush: Hurrah for home!”
“Pelt us, pelt us, we don’t care,We love the snow so crisp and fair;We will shape and we will dig,Till a chariot white and bigWe have cut, for those who’d fainHasten to their home again.Slide and slip, and slip and slide,Thunderous roll, and mighty crash!In the chariot come and ride,Down into the depths to dash.Mystic trip for those who roam;One wild rush: Hurrah for home!”
“Pelt us, pelt us, we don’t care,
We love the snow so crisp and fair;
We will shape and we will dig,
Till a chariot white and big
We have cut, for those who’d fain
Hasten to their home again.
Slide and slip, and slip and slide,
Thunderous roll, and mighty crash!
In the chariot come and ride,
Down into the depths to dash.
Mystic trip for those who roam;
One wild rush: Hurrah for home!”
Tempting indeed looked the chariot; bright and sparkling were its wheels of ice, and some of the sprites had decked it with starry edelweiss gathered on the slopes below, and with handfuls of the red snow-lichen.
“Let’s get in, Cis!” cried Hal.
“Is it quite safe?” asked Cis of the sprites.
“Quite, quite,” answered they; “Santa Claus told us to make it for you.”
Taking hold of little Cis, the foremost sprite helped her to get in, and Hal jumped quickly in by her side.
Throwing down their spades, the laughing sprites rushed to the chariot wheels, ready to push them round, whilst others pelted the children with snow-lichen, shouting at the top of their shrill voices:—
“Slide and slip, and slip and slide,Thunderous roll and mighty crash!In the chariot those who ride,Down into the depths shall dash.Mystic trip for those who roam;One wild rush: Hurrah for home!”
“Slide and slip, and slip and slide,Thunderous roll and mighty crash!In the chariot those who ride,Down into the depths shall dash.Mystic trip for those who roam;One wild rush: Hurrah for home!”
“Slide and slip, and slip and slide,Thunderous roll and mighty crash!In the chariot those who ride,Down into the depths shall dash.Mystic trip for those who roam;One wild rush: Hurrah for home!”
“Slide and slip, and slip and slide,
Thunderous roll and mighty crash!
In the chariot those who ride,
Down into the depths shall dash.
Mystic trip for those who roam;
One wild rush: Hurrah for home!”
Then the wheels began to turn, and Hal threw his arm round Cis, who was holding on to him, and looking with a little white face into the depths below.
“You must have been dreaming, Hal!”
“You must have been dreaming, Hal!”
But the wheels turned faster and faster, as the chariot dashed down the glassy slope. Hal looked at the sky above, where the Kea was still crying, “Come up! come up!” and he thought he saw the Star of Love shining faint and far; and then—— Hal remembered no more; and, with the words of the sprites ringing in his ears,—
“Slide and slip, and slip and slide,”
“Slide and slip, and slip and slide,”
“Slide and slip, and slip and slide,”
“Slide and slip, and slip and slide,”
he—awoke,—to find he had tumbled out of bed, and that it was Christmas morn indeed. And there was little Cis, sitting up in her bed, and there were the stockings with their bulging sides; and Hal rubbed his eyes and wondered if he were awake or dreaming. But he and Cis hastened to dive into their stockings, to see what Santa Claus had put into them, and, what treasures they found!
For Cis there was a big doll, dressed like an angel, and fairy-like small ones, and beautiful furniture for her doll’s house, and a book with pictures of all kinds of birds and insects.
And in Hal’s, what treasures for his collection! Rare birds’ eggs in little glass-covered boxes, precious bits of many-coloured ores; and from the Terraces, about which his mother had often told him, were specimens of white encrusted sticks and delicate ferns. How he longed to put them in his cabinet with his other treasures!
But when Hal talked to Cis about Santa Claus and their night’s travels, she laughed and said,—
“You must have been dreaming, Hal, or perhaps the treasures in the stockings whispered it all in your ear,” which Hal indignantly denied.
“For I know it was real,” he said.
But the Bell-birds were singing their Christmas chime in the bush, and the morning sun was gilding the tree-ferns and the waves, and their mother’s voice was calling, “A happy Christmas, children! a happy Christmas!”
And whose was that other voice that called out the words too?
“Father! father!” cried the little ones eagerly, tearfully, asthey rushed into the outstretched arms of their mother andfathertoo!
Yes, it was a happy Christmas morn, indeed, for the sea had brought itslivingto their home. And as the children sat that evening in the little low room, their father told them of the shipwreck, of his life on an island with one other, carried like himself to its shores, and of their joy when a passing vessel sighted them and brought them home at last.
When the Southern Cross again shone down from the sky on the father and mother and happy children, Hal told them his tale of all he had seen the night before.
Although little Cis declared it was not so, Hal would never believe but that Cis and he had been with Santa Claus to see all the wonders of the Southern Cross Fairy-land.
FINIS.