YOUNG FOLK'S CORNER

Auckland Star, Volume LXXV, Issue 41, 18 February 1944, Page 3

YOUNG FOLK'S CORNER

Qxmdcu&d 6y (Pd&i fiha^Wwdt/

(By MAUREEN CARTER)

THE CAVE

MYSTERY OF THE HILLS

Margaret, Mavis, Jack and John played happily on the golden sands at Palm Beach. As their health had not been verv good their mother had taken them to "the beach for a holiday. They had been playing "chasee" for quite a long time now. and the four children were getting tired of it. At last Mavis suggested hide and seek, and John volunteered to be "he." As soon as John started to count, Jack dashed along to the far end of the beach where he knew an excellent place to hide. Rapidly climbing the rough and slippery cliff, he soon reached the top. After he had gained his breath he stretched himself with his brown arms high above his head, his tangled hair blowing about his face and his eyes dancing with happiness. As he stood there he looked out to sea, [ where yachts were sailing before the wind. His eyes lifted from the billowy waves to the sky above. There he could see white fluffy clouds scudding across the blue. They looked as if they were chasing each other. Then Jack heard a faint but distinct "Coming—ready or not!" He tore himself away from the beauty of the scene and dashed out of sight into a large hidden crevice which led to our hero's hiding place. Once inside the cave. Jack slackened his step and crept stealthily forward. From the darkness came a dull "Thud! Thud!" Jack started. "What's that?" he whispered. If he expected to get an answer from someone, he did not. Once again came that "Thud" which echoed and re-echoed throughout the whole cave. As Jack went further on the cave widened, but still eerie noises came to his ears. Suddenly Jack jumped. There was a light ahead, and shadowy forms loomed on the rocky and uneven walls. These men must be pirates ! The aged name rang through his ears. Was he dreaming? No; impossible. These pirates were digging a deep hole with picks, and one huge old salt with a face as big as a ham was sitting on an oak chest. Jack felt a cold shiver run down his spine as he noticed the blood-stained cutlass hanging by the pirate's side. Out of the cave ran Jack down the stonv cliffs, along the golden sands and up the steps to the coast guard's house. There he told the fellow the startling news about the huge oak chest and the pirates with their cutlasses. At last, when the whole story was told, the guard took his old gun and gave Jack instructions to gather some more men. Soon five or six, armed to the teeth, climbed swiftly up the cliff. When they neared the entrance of the cave the men made less noise and went single file. Suddenly the voice of the' guard roared "Hands up ! " Then; "Get out, you blockheads—can't you see we're making a picture?" As this was said, or, rather, yelled, a man in a grey suit came charging from a hidden corner. The guard and his followers, as well as Jack, just ran and ran. When Jack went back to his game the other three children wondered why Jack wasn't keen on playing hide-and-seek, but I think we know why—don't we?

Great blue hills out in the distance, What are you hiding there? Over the tops of your green-mantled slopes Is there a township fair? Is there a ]ake asleep in the sun Or tossing and whipped by the storm? Is there a river solemn and strong Or a streamlet with waters just warm? Is there a desert, glinting and grey, Scrubby brown bushes, or grass? Pasture of cattle and horses and sheep Over there—do the cars pass? Tell me, green hills that shimmer all day, Or hide in a blue mist at night; Tell me now what you are hiding there, What do you keep from my sight? " You must come to our feet, traverse the slopes, You must climb where the white cloudlets glide, And then you will see what you're wishing to see, Revealed is the secret we hide ! " —By Fay Price (Epsom).