Adventures of the Moa.

Dominion, Volume 22, Issue 264, 3 August 1929, Page 26

Adventures of the Moa.

lII.—MOA IN DIFFICULTES By Lauretta Maud Willoughby For "The Junior Dominion."

“Is it nearly morning? Is—is that a hill or a cloud? Ohl It looks so dark; 1 am afraid," asked the Owl. , "There is nothing to be afraid of now—the Maoris will never find us here. We must forget fear," answered Moa.

"Fear," repeated Owl slowly, "can one ever forget fear?. There seems so many different kinds of fear, to—to forget.” "What do you mean—different kinds?" questioned WekaThe Owl looked away. He seemed to be talking to the wind. "The fear of being snared by the Maojis, is different to the fear of being chased through the dark," he said, "or lost, or—or flying through a forest of trees in the lightnjng. Ohl It’s all so puzzling.” “I ean't understand a word you are saying," shouted Weka, "and I haven't a notion of where I’m walking. Moa, do wait until the mist lifts a little; if we are not careful we’ll be falling over a precipice."

"Yes," agreed Kiwi, "that will be the next thing.” "Oh, dear!" cried Moa, stopping so suddenly that Owl almost fell off his back, "the thought of a precipice never entered my head. You are quite right, Weka, it is no use running into danger. We must just stay where we are until daylight.” So they waited, and the mist lifted, and hung above the trees like an inquisitive cloud come down to touch the leaves. The hills slept against a sky that was all of gold, and the clumps of flax that grew by the river, dipping their long leaves into the water, looked like bushes of silver. "Oohl" murmured Kiwi, "how beautiful.” "Unpack your house,” cried Moa, stooping down, "I could live here for ever." “No; have breakfast first," said Owl. "Oh, look!" called Weka. "Moa!" exclaimed Kiwi, “come and see what Weka's found. It’s—it’s a cave or something in the hillside: it will save you from building a house.” “I don’t know if I altogether like the idea of living in a cave,” answered Moa. "I always think caves are so damp.” "It's as dry as a bone.” assured Weka, “and are nice little ledges of rock all along, the walls where you could put things." “I would always be bumping my head." said Moa.

“You wouldn’t if you were careful.” argued Kiwi, “and look at the lovely entrance it has."

"Come inside,” called Weka, “you can't see how spacious it is from there."

"Wait until after breakfast," said Owl, "I feel so hungry." ‘Til go in just to please them,” whispered Moa, "but really it’s not my idea of a home." fi

He bent his long neck and followed them rather awkwardly through th® opening.

"Come along," called Weka, running ahead—"it goes a long way under the hill."

"1 don’t think I can come any further," said Moa, as they came to a narrow bend. "1 couldn’t possibly squeeze through there.” "Oh, do try,” begged Kiwi, ‘‘it's such fun." "I'll do my best,” sighed Moa, “but really. Kiwi, I wouldn’t like to make a home of this place; just think how tiresome it would I always hearing the echo of one’s own voice.” "Bend down," directed Weka. “Now —now just bend your neck a little,—— oh, not like that!” "It's useless for me to try to squeeze myself through so narrow a passage," cried Moa, "it’s impossible. I’m sorry, but I can't bend another inch. I—l—Good gracious! I—, Kiwi, I—. I’m wedged,—l can't move!" “It's nothing to laugh at, Weka,’’ • cried Kiwi. “Moa, can’t you push yourself backwards?” “1 can't move either way," answered Moa. "Oh, I might have known this would happen, I might have known!" "Do come and have called Owl from the entrance. "We c —can't," shouted Weka, "Moa's got jambed between the walls. "Oh, dear,” he cried, running towards them, "we seem to have nothing but trouble.” "The only thing to do,” whispered ’ Weka, taking Kiwi aside, “is to giro him a sudden fright— a shock that would make him struggle." "Now listen. I’ll pretend to hear something, and we’ll both leave him and go further into the cave to sea what it is, and then we’ll rush back screaming ‘Maorisl’—” " ‘Maoris!’—like that.” So Weka made believe he felt very nervous and peered uneasily into tho darkness with his eyes, and kept telling Moa that he heard a sort of tapping sound. "P—perhaps we’d b—better go and see what it .is," said Kiwi rather shakily. They had only walked a few yards when terrified screams echoed through the cave—" Maoris! Maoris I” They came tearing back, but Moa was not there: he tad wrenched himself free at the sound of the first scream, and was dashing with the poor little frightened Owl out of the eave.