MOON-RAINBOW

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 747, 21 August 1929, Page 16

MOON-RAINBOW

(Second-prize Story.) It was strangely silent in the forest —-that tense, breathless liusll that comes before a sudden storm. All the birds bad flown nest-ward, uttering mournful cries, all save the speckled guinea-fowl, who was caught m the brambles and could not reach his nest under the poplar tree. All at once the rain came, and the thunder roared and crashed across the sky. Vivid flashes of lightning lit up the gloomy depths of the forest and danced across the brown carpet. The trees bowed in submission as the Storm God in ail his fury lashes the wind and the rain on the pines, on all the green tree-giants, and on the little poplar at the edge of the forest. Then another flash, forked and vicious, tore through the clouds and sent tho poplar shivering to the earth. No longer would the wind play tunes among the leaves In springtime. With this final vengeance, as suddenly as it had come, the storm passed away. Only the tuneful drippings of the raindrops from the leaves of the tall trees remained, and the little poplar lying in the grass. When the other trees saw their little music-maker dying, they cried aloud with dismay, but the spirit of the poplar with the same murmuring voice whispered: “Tall trees of the forest, I will never leave you, for where I have fallen myriads of tiny seeds will spring to life. They will grow to stately poplars, and sing to you as the wind passes through. And I myself will never leave you, for see where the moon has broken through the clouds. I will go to her, and always when the Storm God wreaks his vengeance on this forest, I will be there, a little sign of comfort to you." With that the spirit of the poplar rose and flew slowly toward the moon. For a while the trees watched, then they bowed their heads, as if in reverence to the singing tree. All this time the speckled guineafowl had been trying in vain to free himself, and with one last effort he dragged himself out of the brambles. As fast as his legs could carry him he ran to his nest, but the poplar tree, at whose feet he had so carefully built it, was dead. The pines told him the story and, looking upward, the bird saw his beloved friend, a little shadow against the gleaming moon. But where the tiny feet of the spirit had wandered, against the grey clouds, a slender silver curve, a gleaming moon-rainbow lay. With awed wonder the giant trees stood in silence, the birds hushed their twittering, and the only sound was the wistful cry of the guinea-fowl: “Come back, come back!” And always when the moon steals through the clouds after a storm, when the leaves of young poplars are shining with rain, a white arch shows clearly against the sky—the ghost of the moon rainbow. And always on such nights the plaintive call of the speckled fowl echoes over the hills: “Come back, come hack!" FLYING CLOUD (Lesley du Faur). FOR WISE HEADS CHANGED WORD Change the word SAND into ROCK, altering only one letter at a time, making a common dictionary word at each change, and having only three intervening links. * * * Word Diamond: 3 A consonant. 2 —A large snake. 4 A direction of the compass. 5 Devoured. 6 A consonant. * * * Answer to last week’s word square: Safe. Adam. Farm. Emma.