The Mystery of Smoking Mountain

Press, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22319, 5 February 1938, Page 3 (Supplement)

The Mystery of Smoking Mountain

You know the three Kowhai Rids, whose adventures you have all read in “The Gay GasetteT *Mate Trade Winds, Timaru, has now written us a splendid new serial about these three boys. It is a New Zealand story, and you are certain to enjoy the mystery that she unfolds.

CHAPTER I A New Friend The Kowhai Kids were spending a holiday with their Uncle Bill on his farm at the foot of Mount Ngaruahoe. They had arrived at 10 p.m. on December 23, and now at 1 a.m., December 24, three tired heads were resting on fresh scented pillows. Four hours later the sun rose, turning the dew-covered flowers and trees to a diamond bedecked assembly of lords and ladies, with their misty cobweb cloaks lifted gently by the morning breeze. A skylark, like an eastern Muezzin, summoned the forest songsters to their morning hymn of praise, as the three boys awoke. Jumping out of bed, they dressed and went outdoors. ‘‘Come on, boys, race you to the creek!" and Dan was off like a shot with Col. and Will hard on his heels. But none of them was prepared for what happened a few minutes later. Without a thought of trouble Dan hurdled lightly over some low bushes and went slithering down the steep bank into the river. Col. and Will, almost level, came tumbling down, too, but luckily the water in that place was fairly shallow, and the Kowhai Kids scrambled out with nothing worse than scratches and bruises and soaking clothes. Laughing and joking, they made their slippery way up the bank to meet their Uncle Bill, who with one look, took in the situation. "In a great hurry for your morning dip, aren’t you?” he inquired, “Can’t even wait to put on your bathing costumes.” “Breakfast!" came a shout from the house. "You’d better get into some dry clothes, then hurry up and come to breakfast. I’ll tell Auntie Teen.” The boys changed in about half the time usually needed for that operation, for healthy appetites provided a decided spur. With the mysteries and fascinations of a farm waiting to be explored, it' did not take them very long to finish breakfast. “Is there anywhere that we’ll do any damage?” Dan asked his uncle. “Not if you are reasonably careful. but don’t go playing round in the wheat crops, and whatever you

do, for goodness sake, don’t leave any gates open," was the reply. “Let’s explore the bush,” suggested Col. “Well, be careful not to lose yourselves,” warned Auntie Teen. “If you do miss the track get to the river and follow it downstream. That will take you out into the far paddock, and if you can’t find your way home from there you’re pretty poor scouts,” she ended, laughing. So. arming themselves with old flax sticks, they set off across the paddocks towards the distant patch of native bush which frilled a slight valley. "I say, why not follow the river right through the bush?" Will inquired as they went through the

third paddock. "It’s not very far. and we could get back in time for lunch.” „ ... “Good idea,” agreed Dan. Well go round the next paddock and cut across the spur.” It was quite a small spur, just bordering the valley, and the Kowhai Kids scrambled quickly tip through the low manuka and scrub. From the top of the spur they looked down into the bushfilled valley, lying like a dark oval in the mosaic of the countryside. Through the bush, a lost string of diamonds, the river wound its peaceful way. _ , In Indian file, with Dan leading, they descended into the valley, to enter the bush just where the river plunged into a dark archway of kowhais. For the most part they climbed along the bank, hanging on to the supplejacks and swinging along by them, wading through the water when there was no foothold on the bank. , . , “Look quickly!” Col. cried excitedly, “a pair of wood pigeons. “Goodness, they’re bigger than I thought they were,” Will said, gazing upwards. , _ “Haven’t they long necks? Dan stared Incredulously as one stretched its neck sideways, and then let it return to its normal length. They heard a tui away to the left, and after much tracking, found it high in a konini tree, pausing between its items to refresh itself with wild fuschia berries. On their way back to the river, they saw three young bellbirds, whose notes sounded just like a peal of bells, until a snapping branch frightened them away. They continued their way along the river bank, testing carefully each foothold, for they_ did not want another unexpected bath. “Mind, that's a rotten branch. Dan called back,. as by dint ot a

quick step and a handy supplejack, he saved himself from slipping “What was that? Listen!” At Will’s words they all came to a sudden halt. In the quietness they realised how silent the bush was. “I thought I heard voices,” Will said. “Yes, there —” as a merry laugh sounded faintly from ahead of them. , , “I wonder who it can be? Col. queried. “They are children’s voices.” . _

“Let’s push on and see," Dan assented. With gay laughter and shouting still ringing through the bush, they scrambled rapidly along the bank, eager to find the cause of the enjoyment. "They're having a good time anyway." Dan chuckled, and even as he spoke the bush thinned out and they saw. on the farther side of a sunlit clearing, two Maori children playing in a little shallow pool. A moment later the three Kowhai Kids came into the, sunlight, to see the little Maori boy climb on to a jutting tree trunk, far out above the stream. The Kids' happy cry of greeting was changed instantaneously to a horrified shout of warning, for. with a rending crash, the log fell into the swirling current. JUST WHAT WILL HAPPEN IN THE NEXT CHAPTER?

When is milk like a lemon? When it is sour. Why did the sun-set? Because it saw the moon-rise. —'MATE CHANGE BLOSSOM,

Plaza Birthday Competition If your birthday Is next week you may enter lor the’Birthday Puzzle. Tickets for the Plaza will be awarded girls and boys sending in, the correct solution. Mark your

letter “Birthday Competition’ and send it to Lady Gay enclosing a stamped addressed envelope for your ticket. A halfpenny stamf will do. Name Age Birthday , “Just fancy! That man oyer there is paid to stop people working.” “What does he do?” “Why he blows the hooter at the factory.” —ARTHUR PAGE. A.B. Prebbleton