Taratui's Christmas

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXI, Issue 21990, 22 December 1934, Page 6 (Supplement)

Taratui's Christmas

A FANTASY

Little Taratui was lost, there was no doubt about it. The bush was growing dark and lonely. There was no twitter of birds anywhere, no rustle of fern or creeper. Little Taratui's big, black eyes rolled fearfully. He thought of the wild, red-headed patupairehe, the ghost of the forest, who might any minute flit silently downwards from the shadows of the branches, and the little shy bush-folk, who might even now bo tracking him amidst the vines and fallen leaves. He grasped his slender pigeon spear more tightly in his littlo brown hand, and, holding the two dead birds dangling downwards from the other, pushed on into the gathering darkness.

Taratui lived in the Maori village on the edge of the forest. He was a sturdy little eight-year-old youngster, whose greatest delight was the hunting of pigeons. But although he was clever and brave, still Taratui did not like the darkness. He wished that he had given up his hunt before the sun went down. However, it couldn't bo bellied now, so he braced his sturdy little shoulders and went on bravely. Suddenly a thought struck him. The forest ran all along the coast, and quite likely he was not far from the beach. Now, if he could find his way to the 6hore and follow it back, it would be no time before he was at the village. Besides, on the sands there would bo no ghosts. The dark spirits of the night were afraid of the light; they loved to lurk among the trees, and the closing shadows. Taratui chose a tall tawa tree. He put down his burdens at its foot, and after a desperate scramble amidst the sharp, scratchy vines and unexpected branches, was soon at tho top. f Jho dark blanket of forest clothed tho slopes and hill-tops for quite a distance, but beyond it there was a pale glimmer which filled Taratui's heart with joy. It was the sea. As tho moon shone out from behind the far clouds, ho could see tho beach quite plainly. All the curving silvery hollows, and tho white curling lines of foam upon the sands. He could even distinguish tho darker clouds which fringed it —those clouds which, in tho daytime, wero ruddy, tumbled pohutukawa blossom. Taratui was very pleased. It would only tako him a littlo time to get out upon thoso shining sands —and then it was a clear road homo. Ho was just starting to descend when —it happened. There had been only a few stars in the sky. just an evening sprinkle of littlo glittering specks, but all at onco tho wide blucness abovo seemed to blossom out with wonderful silver flowers —huge scintillating orbs which glowed with an indescribable brilliance and translucency. They Hashed out in systems and incredible constellations which spread across the sky in tangled chains of pricking firo, in glowing galaxies which made of tho heavens a glory which had not been seen sinco tho creation of all. Littlo Taratui clung in astonishment to tho sturdy tawa branch. His black eyes wero full of wonder. Suddenly his mouth opened, and a strangled cry of fear camo forth. Ho buried his frightened brown face in tho quivering leaves. For this is what ho saw.

From out of the infinito blackness boliiild tlic stars, trouping down among tlio swinging suns and worlds above, cmno hosts of beautiful beings—lovely, wbite, winged creatures who seemed to be made of translucent flame. Tlie.v came in thousands, in millions, until the sky was frill of the gleaming ether of their robes, and the great stars were

By RUTH PARK (Age 17), 78, Sandringham Ed.. Auckland

IcMEMIcI!

veiled with the flickering and passing of their wings. They mingled and parted in thousands and tens of thousands, with their lovel.y garments drifting and melting like mist, and their faces shining with unearthly tender light. They seemed to bring music with them, music which came from the soft tumult of their wings, and the drifting of their robes. The almost imperceptible sound of their singing surged into one great voice, which rang gloriously, shouting through the universe, rolling through the far reaches of space like a huge, irresistible wave which lapped the suns and drenched planet and satellite with its triumphant sweetness. Taratui clung in overwhelming terror to the tree, his black, woolly head pressed tight into the scratchy leaves. But still he could not drown the sound of the great singing voice. He could not make out the words it sang—they were not of the speech of the Maori—■ something else —Taratui stole a look at the sky. A veil seemed to shut out some of the glory, the figures wero growing misty and unreal. _ They seemed to recede, to melt again into the powdery silver of the stars. Still the sound of the music came drifting downwards, sweet, faraway. Taratui found himself listening. As the glory faded, the terror died out of his soul. He watched eagerly the paling light above, but it did not brighten. The stars sank into the dimness. There were only a few white glittering points upon the dark blue of the sky. At the foot of the tree, Taratui picked up his spear and the pigeons and walked on slowly. He was not at all surprised when he saw a little way before him in the forest a tiny house, with its door wide open, and bright light streaming out into the dark. There was not the slightest fear in his heart, only a sort of excited happiness. He ran up to the door and peeped in. It' was quite a bare little room. In one corner there was a big chair, and in it the loveliest Lady, in robes of blue. She had a Baby in her arms. There was a man there too, a tall man in strange, rough, long garments. He had a kindly face, and he was looking over the Lady's shoulder at the Baby.

He wont shyly in, and the Lady beckoned him over to her. As Taratui came near she put her arm round his littlo bare shoulders and drew him Hose. The Baby stirred, and opening sleepy, blue eyes, smiled at Taratui. The little boy just stood there, stroking the Baby's little hand gently with one brown finger. . . . Outside the house the tuis began to sing. They came fluttering in at the door, perching on the back of the chair, and on the tall man's shoulder; outside on the window-sill, Taratui could seo big Kuru sitting, staring in with round, orange eyes. The two pigeons lying dead 011 the floor stirred and fluttered as if they had only been asleep, then strutted round, cooing gently, nil the dark bloodstains on their pretty feathers fading away. Taratui was very happy. Holding the Baby's little hand ho leaned against tlio Lady's warm breast. The low singing of the birds lulled him gently, Heaving a deep sigh, ho drifted off to sleep. It was nearly morning when he awoke and found himself curled up comfortably under a big fern quite near the village—just as if somebody kind had placed him there. Picking himself up, Taratui yawned happily, and then trotted along the path with his slender bird spear clasped tightly in one little warm, brown hand.