Travel Is Her Castle

Dominion, Volume 32, Issue 234, 1 July 1939, Page 7 (Supplement)

Travel Is Her Castle

(Original, by Mowgli (17),Masterton. J WAS lying on mj back on the cool, green grass, gazing at the grey and white clouds drifting slowly across a‘ pale, blue sky. It was one of those ‘‘muggy” days, when the sun; appears fitfully and 1 the earth seems to be listening and waiting for something unexplainable to happen. < My eyes followed one white doud slowly billowing out. I imagined myself lying in it. “So soft;” I thought. “How restful to move slowly along on it. . .

It was true. I was lying on the cloud, drifting lazily through blue space. A gentle breeze was lapping at the edges, just as the sea laps at the side of a boat ou a calm day. I cannot explain what the sensation was, but I wished it could go on forever. It whs so peaceful. ? , Soon, however, I began to feel much hotter, and, gazing over the edge of the cloud 1 , I saw a smallish island below. I could just make out lines of trees and some small sipecks moving about. “Wherever.am I?” I thought, realizing the cloud seemed to have stopped moving. Suddenly the whole of my carrier collapsed. Great silver spears were shooting down towards the land. I grabbed one, was whirled into space, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on goldy, grey sand' in the rays of the hot tropical sun. .. ‘“That shower was soon over,” I heard an English voice explain, “it was tierce while it lasted, though.” : “The rain. It is always like that here,” I heard a voice with a foreign accent answer. leasing myself, I saw that T was lying on a long strip of damp beach. Behind me was a tall palm tree, its fronds rustling dimly in the breeze. Further away were more trees, and I saw that they lined a damp, steamy roadway. "This is an adventure,” 1 said out loud. “What ees, my friend?” replied the foreign voice, which I had heard previously. Looking up, I beheld a tall, dark-skinned man, dressed In a white linen suit. He was quite obviously a foreigner, and he was smiling down at me. “Why this is;” I replied, scrambling to my feet. “Have you not been heear before,, then?” he said. “No, it is the first time.” , “Then you must come and see, eh? With me? I will show you." We walked down the now dusty street, dried by the hot sun's rays. “Hirst, the orange groves,” he said. In a few seconds my guide had led me through a white gate. In front of us were long lines of trees laden with golden oranges. Everywhere were natives,-dressed only with a cloth from waist to knee, picking huge baskets of fruit. Some were carrying full ones away on their heads. The air Was filled with a heavy scent. “One, you would like, heh?” asked my friend, in his quaint English. “Too right,”. I replied, slaiigily and eagerly, and was just stepping forward with my arm stretched out to pick one, when whizz! With a loud rushing noise in my ears. I tumbled once more on to the cloud, and found myself drifting slowly along again. I looked over the side, but could see only blue sea below. ; . We drifted along for quite a while, and then the cloud stopped with a gentle bump. Gazing over the side, I beheld what looked like black mountains. with plains stretching for miles on one side. With a sudden gust, I was plucked from the cloud by what felt like a strong wind. Swish! Through the air I rushed, and then I found myself standing in a forest. In the distance f could bear the rough voices of men, laughing and talking. I followed a narrow trail among the tall trees, and, just as I was feeling a little discouraged, I came to the edge of a river. Across It was a large clearing. There men ■ were unloading huge logs from Waggons and rolling them down a short shnte in to-the,'Water. A little further, a way I could hear chopping of wood, and I smelt the sweet scent of freshly-cut pine-wood. “Lumberjacks! Canada!" I said out loud. With the same peculiar rushing noise as before. I- felt myself being deposited gently on to the cloud. “Where to this time?" I managed to gasp. Another crash,'and 1 was walking down a crowded, noisy. street. “Thunder!” I heard someone say, in a rather nasal voice. I looked at the sky. It was pitch black. From the sky my gaze wandered to some giganfic’buildings outlined against the darkness. ■ “They look like sky-scrapers." I exclaimed. “Why. sure they are, honey.” replied a very American voice. For the llrst time 1 became awiire of the tremendous activity hustling about me. Street ears, motors, carts and people, were all crowded together. The most 1 had ever seen. '•■Where on earth am I?" I said again.

“This is little New York,' said the voice. “Haven't you ever been here before?" I looked very hard at my companion. ‘‘l come from New Zealand,” I said.

“New Zealand!” cried the girl, excitedly. “Seems rather queer you don't know where you are, but you'll do me.” She grabbed me by the arm. “I’ll take .you along to the eltt'b. and you can make a speech.” ••Hey!” I yelled, above the noise, “you can’t do thisl”

"Oh. sure .1 can." she shouted back. “We’re Americans, you know." I was pulled inside' a doorway and found myself facing a whole crowd of smtirlly-dreused women. I immediately became aware of my print frock, no stockings, and beach Shoes. The girl said Hometlilng, Then everyone started yelling, “Speech,

speech.” "Ladies.” I stammered. ■*! come from New Zealand. I don’t know how f got here.” Suddenly they all began shrieking, waved their arms at me, rushed toward me. .-Hid began pulling me down—down [ closed niv eyes. The darkness was so comforting. 1 suddenly became aware tliutjl wus lying quite .still. I opened my eyes. Above were the slowmoving clouds. Around me was the green grass. “Travel,” I murmured. “Yes, travel is my castle-in-the-air.” I stood up, stretched myself, and. jwalked slowly, towards the house.