A ROA STARLET WRITES CHAPTER 111.
A Maoriland Adventure
\ou have all grasped the idea perfectly now, and Aunt Hilda had an anxious but thrilling time deciding the story that presented the best follow-on situation in a short space. I was very happy indeed to find the winner in a recent Starlet from Roa. Aunt Hilda visited Roa last year, up in the hills behind Blackball, and saw the little trucks of coal come hurtling out of the s»de of the mountain. So gladsome greetings to Roa and Blackball in passing. 2s 6d will be posted to the winner— Joyce Martin, Roa, West Coast. She has left you to-night with a really nice little problem and plenty of solutions offering. We just hope the story is not too “ scarey ” for the little people, but aren’t we enjoying writing our own real story! (Last week you remember Nick had found a new half-crown, which proved to be a counterfeit, and the Phantom of the Opera was suspected of knowing something about it. Now read on.) Some days later the Phantom of the Opera was once again fixing his beloved horse for the night, and being occupied thus he neither heard anything nor saw the threatening clouds gathering in the west. Away in the distance, on the hills, a party of tired children were wending their way homewards after a tramp in the bush. They paused to rest beside a stream. Plop! Plop! Splash! “ Oooh! Quick! ** cried Les. glancing at the sky and jumping to his feet, the rest following him. “Gee. run; come on! ” “ Huh, what’s the hurry, frightened of a bit of rain, Les? ” answered Carl, but, nevertheless, running quickly after Les. Sally and Nick Gray. The rain pelted down in torrents, the wind whistled, and roared, trees shook their angry limbs, while the blackberries sought wildly to clutch the children as they hurried by, and. practically exhausted, they sighted the Phantom of the Opera's hut. This put new strength into them as they rushed towards the door, stopping only for a second to knock, then they dashed inside, shutting out the rising storm. To their surprise, although there was a cheery fire inside, the owner was absent. Supposing he, too. had been caught unawares? What had happened to him? He might be killed by falling trees or any- ' thing. But—the tempest broke, really
truly. The wind screamed, lashed the bushes, tore up trees by their roots; claps of thunder shook the foundations of the little log hut; lightning flashed, and flashed again, everything was in a state of the utmost turmoil. Then a sickening silence, an awful lull. " It’s over,” cried the terrified Carl with a sigh of relief, but the others knew better. Sally moved instinctively towards the wall, and in doing so, her foot touched what appeared to be an ordinary nail-head on the floor. Immediately, without warning, two boards slid back, leaving a gaping black hole at he r feet. Just at this moment the boys saw her gazing as if fascinated by the hole, quite unable to speak. " Look! ” pointed the amazed Carl, “ a secret passage.” No one knew quite what to do. At last Les thought, “ Now this is where Carl’s adventure comes in, though I don’t feel too keen about it.” And, seeing a torch and matches on a shelf, he took them and announced his intention of going down through the floor. Heedless of all risks, he was determined about the adventure, and could not be dissuaded. Suddenly the wind moaned and the storm dashed upon the lull, redoubling its force. Although Sally and Nick were very much afraid to venture down the trap-door, where at least some of the noise would escape them, it would be far worse in the hut. So. with their “ hearts in their mouths,” they climbed down a rope ladder and stood on a stone landing in a kind of cave, the floor of which was green with slime, while the air -was musty and damp. Then—a deafening, ear-splitting crash a splintering of wood. The whole of the heavens seemed to be falling. Would it never stop? When the sound of crashing died away into an ominous silence, for a few moments terror reigned supreme in the hearts of the kiddies—watching, waiting, thunderstruck, not knowing what to do or sav At last “ I know,” ■whispered Les, his face a deathly white in the yellow light of the torch, “ the rimu tree above the hut has been struck bv lightning. We can't get out that way. Its crushed the hut in. Gee! and the battery of this torch won't last very long now.” Joyce Martin (Roa). ®®@@@@®®@®® g] @ @ @ [g @ ® ®
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TS19340217.2.141.10
Bibliographic details
Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20233, 17 February 1934, Page 18 (Supplement)
Word Count
780A ROA STARLET WRITES CHAPTER III. Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20233, 17 February 1934, Page 18 (Supplement)
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