Piccaninnies

  Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Janet Blenkinshipand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttps://www.pgdp.net

  "They made strings of the scarlet nikau berries, and hungthem round their necks."]

  PICCANINNIES

  BY

  ISABEL MAUD PEACOCKE

  Author of "Songs of the Happy Isles." "My Friend Phil." "Robin of theRound House." "The Bonny Books of Humorous Verse," etc.

  Illustrated by TREVOR LLOYD

  WHITCOMBE & TOMBS LIMITED

  Auckland, Christchurch, Dunedin and Wellington, N.Z. Melbourne andLondon

  DEDICATED

  TO

  MY LITTLE GOD-DAUGHTER

  JOAN LUSK

  TE KUITI, AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND

  If your heart is pure, and your eyes are clear, And you come the one right day of the year, And eat of the fruit of the Magic Tree The wee Bush Folk you will surely see.

  * * * * *

  In the green and woody places, Thickets shady, sunlit spaces, Have you never heard us calling, When the golden eve is falling-- When the noon-day sun is beaming-- When the silver moon is gleaming? Have you never seen us dancing-- Through the mossy tree-boles glancing? Have you never caught us gliding Through the tall ferns? laughing--hiding? We are here, we are there-- We are everywhere; Swinging on the tree tops, floating in the air; Hush! Hush! Hush! Creep into the Bush, You will find us everywhere.

  If you would see, First bathe your eyes, In dew that lies On the bracken tree.

  * * * * *

  If you would hear Our elfin mirth To Mother Earth Lay down your ear.

  * * * * *

  A-many have come with their bright eyes clear, And their young hearts pure, but--alas! Oh dear! They've made a mistake in the day of the year.

  Piccaninnies

  I.

  CHRISTMAS TREE. (_Pohutukawa_).

  Long ago the Piccaninnies didn't have a rag to theirbacks except a huia feather which they wore in their hair. They were thejolliest, tubbiest, brownest babies you ever saw with tiny nubbly knobson their shoulders, as if they had started to grow wings and thenchanged their minds about it, and little furry pointed ears, as all wildcreatures have. Only these were _not_ wild, but very, very shy.

  Where did they live? Oh, just anywhere--all about; among the fern, inthe long grass, down on the sands, in all the places babies love to rollabout in.

  And then _People_ began to come about, so tiresome! They began to makehouses, sell things in shops, tear about in big boxes on wheels, andsend great, clattering, shrieking, puffing monsters rushing through thecountry, dropping smoke and cinders like anything. There was such aclatter and a chatter, such gabbling and babbling, such hammering andbanging and laughing and crying, and hurry and scurry and rush that itwas enough to drive one crazy. There was such a _fuss_, the Piccaninniessimply couldn't stand it, and they fled to the Bush. Well, wouldn't you,with all that going on?

  And there they lived a long time. What fun they had swinging on thegiant fern leaves, climbing the trees, chasing the fantails, riding thekiwis, who are very good-natured, though shy, and teasing the great,sleepy round-eyed morepork, who is so stupid and _owlish_ in thedaytime.

  And then People came _into the Bush!_ Did you ever!

  The Piccaninnies took to the trees altogether then, and no wonder!

  II.

  And then one day some one in a picnic party left a scrap of paperblowing about--you know the horrid way picnic parties have!--and aPiccaninny found it.

  "To be sure they were looking at the pictures upsidedown, but that made no real difference."]

  As luck would have it, it was a girl Piccaninny; had it been a boy hewould simply have torn it up and made paper darts with it to throw atthe other boys, and no harm would have been done. _But girls aredifferent!_

  "Teasing the great, sleepy, round-eyed morepork."]

  She smoothed it out and looked at it carefully, and then she called theother girls to look at it. And soon there was such a clattering andchattering that the boys came racing that way to see if the girls hadfound anything good to eat. You know boys!

  The scrap of paper was a page out of a fashion book, and there werepictures on it of horrid little smug-faced boys in sky-blue suitsbowling hoops in a way no real little boy ever bowled a hoop in hislife, and simpering little girls in lace frocks holding dolls orsun-shades in un-natural attitudes.

  But the Piccaninnies were delighted. To be sure they were looking at thepictures upside down, but that made no real difference.

  They decided they must have clothes too.

  Of course the boys said pooh they wouldn't! It's much easier to slidedown a fern-leaf, or jump off the end of a branch if you haven't anyclothes--everyone knows that.

  But when the girls, after being absent for hours, came back all indarling little crimson kilts made out of blossoms from the Christmastree, the boys simply couldn't bear to think the girls had somethingthey hadn't got. You know what boys are!

  After laughing at the girls in the hopes they'd throw away their prettylittle frocks, the boys went off together. They simply had to think ofsomething, and it would never do to copy the girls. They came back laterwith the quaintest little breeches, made out of broad flax leaves,stitched together with the points downwards. It was clever of the boys!They had also stuck some of the red-brown flowers in their hair. Thegirls were vexed that they hadn't thought of that, but they went onebetter. They made strings of the scarlet nikau berries and hung themround their necks. (Trust the girls!)

  And that was how Fashions came to be started in the Bush.

  CLEMATIS.

  Of course fashions change, and no one need be surprisedto find that crimson kilts were soon "out," while the Piccaninny girlswere to be seen walking about in pretty little white, frilly petticoatsmade out of clematis blossoms, and sun hats of the same flowers.

  The hats were rather silly, because the Piccaninnies lived so deep inthe Bush that the sun couldn't hurt them, but then fashions are absurd.(Look at the ladies who wear fur coats in hot climates!)

  The boys made no change because their kind of fashion doesn't change,except sometimes you take great pains to iron the crease out of them,and other times you iron it _in_ most carefull-_ee_.

  For some reason the boys didn't like the girls' change of frocks. Ofcourse, they said, the girls would never play with them now, but thegirls said oh yes, they would. The boys said:

  "You'd be scared to play berry fights like we used to."

  But the girls said, as brave as could be:

  "Would we?"

  And the boys answered:

  "Let's see you then!"

  So they all ran off and collected puriri berries, big purply red ones,rather squashy. Then the boys all yelled in chorus:

  _Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora! Tenei te tangata puhuru huru Na na nei i tiki mai-- whaka whiti te ra! Upane! Upane! Upane! kaupani whiti te ra!_

  which means something very warlike, and the girls answered shrilly:

  _Ka whawhai tonu! Ake! Ake! Ake!_

  They said that because they had heard that someone had said thatsometime about something, and it means "we will fight for ever andever."

  But they didn't! At the very first volley the berries stained theirdainty frocks, and the girls fled, screaming angrily:

  "You horrid things! You've ruined our frocks!"

  And the boys grinning delightedly, and rolling their black eyes, thumpedtheir little brown heels on the ground, and beat their little bare,brown knees and chanted all together:

  "_Akarana Mototapu Rangitoto Ra!_"

  And of course you all know
what that means! You don't? Well, I'm notquite sure myself, because I couldn't find it in the dictionary (socareless of Mr. Webster!) but it really doesn't matter.

  CABBAGE PALM.

  (Pickled Cabbages).

  Little Swanki, the Piccaninny girl, and Tiki, thePiccaninny boy, were up in a karaka tree eating the pulp of the ripeberries. When I was young I was told I would die if I ate the karakaberries, but I suppose Piccaninny tummies are different.

  Anyhow, there they were, skinning the soft yellow pulp, which _does_took nice, off the hard inside of the berry with their sharp littlewhite teeth, and throwing the hard part at a kiwi wandering about belowtheir tree, and thinking it great fun to watch his surprised face as hetried to dodge the berries.

  Swanki had just eaten her fourteenth berry and was reaching for thefifteenth, when she sighed discontentedly.

  "Oh, Tiki," she said, "aren't you sick and tired of eating the same oldfoods for ever and ever? Berries--berries--berries! Roots--roots--roots!And only a few leaves that are worth eating."

  But Tiki was a contented little boy, and he couldn't think of anythingnicer to eat than a handful of ripe puriri berries, or the root of ayoung fern.

  "Oh, Tiki, aren't you sick of eating the same old foodsfor ever and ever!"]

  "But what else could we eat?" he asked, "There isn't anything else!"

  "Of course there is--lots and lots," answered Swanki. "There's mince pieand ham sandwiches and jam tarts and vinegar and plum duff and cakes andpickled cabbages."

  "So they all ran off and collected puriri berries."]

  Tiki stared at Swanki in amazement; he had never even heard of thesefoods, and thought she must be wonderfully clever to know all aboutthem.

  Sly little Swanki did not tell him that she had lately been hidden in ahollow tree stump near a picnic party which had come into the bush, andthat she had heard the people offering these strange foods to oneanother, and they sounded as though they might be more interesting thanjust berries--berries--berries--roots--roots--roots.

  And that is always the way,--something we haven't got always seems moreworth having than the things we have.

  When Tiki had recovered from his surprise he remembered one familiarword in Swanki's list of things to eat, and as he was always ready toplease, he said:

  "Swanki, I don't know where the mince pie and plum duff and--and vinegartrees grow, but I can show you the pickled cabbage trees all right."

  "Oh, Tiki, can you?" cried Swanki. "Then let's go at once. I'm longingfor some pickled cabbage."

  "It's a long way," said Tiki, doubtfully, "a long, long way to go;"(though he'd never heard of the popular song, which shows how easy itmust be to write those songs).

  But Swanki said it didn't matter how far it was; the sooner theystarted, the sooner they'd be there, which was true in a way.

  They slid down the tree, and having persuaded the kiwi to give them alift, which was pretty cool of them, considering, they set off andtravelled in fine style for some way.

  But as they arrived near the edge of the bush and the trees grewthinner, the kiwi, who hates the open country for his own reasons,refused to go any farther, and the Piccaninnies had to get off andtrudge the rest of the way on foot.

  And crossing a little green glade they met Miss Fantail darting roundand round the glade after flies. Now, Miss Fantail is a friendly andharmless little bird, but she's the most inquisitive creature in thebush, and a regular little gossip.

  The Piccaninnies knew that if she got wind of where they were going itwould soon be all over the bush, and they made up their minds to dodgeher. So they pretended to be little brown lizards crawling through themoss, but Miss Fantail wasn't taken in for a moment, but flitted downto them and put her head on one side in her bright-eyed inquisitive way.

  Miss Fantail, the most inquisitive creature in the bush.]

  "Now she'll begin to ask questions," muttered Swanki, and sure enoughMiss Fantail began in her usual manner:

  "Whit--Whit--Whit--What? What? What? What? Where are you two off to?Whit! What are you after? What? When are you coming back? Why are yougoing so fast? Whit--Whit--Whit--What? What? What?"

  And when they wouldn't answer she persisted in following them, flittingin her restless way from tree to tree, sometimes darting ahead of them,sometimes circling round them, and never ceasing to cry inquisitively:

  "Whit--Whit--Whit--What? What? What? What?"

  On the very edge of the bush, however, she hesitated. She had been bornin the bush, and was used only to its cool green shade, and the glare ofthe sun on the outside world rather scared her. So after hanging aboutfor a time to see what the Piccaninnies intended doing, she flitted awayafter a large blue fly, and while she was busy Tiki and Swanki gave herthe slip. They, too, had been rather dismayed at the glare of the sunand the shelterless look of the outside world, but Tiki said that thePickled Cabbage trees were not far away; he had seen them once when hehad climbed to the top of a rata tree, and a bush pigeon had told himthe name of them.

  So, shrinking a little and keeping a sharp look-out for enemies in casethey had need to "drop dead" and pretend to be a dead stick or leaf,they ran on hand in hand, and came after a time to the edge of theswamp.

  "There!" said Tiki proudly, "there are the Pickled Cabbage trees."

  There were quite a number of them, tall slim trees with long bare trunksand a crown of long, narrow leaves at the top.

  "We must climb to the top to find the cabbages," said Swanki; but thoughthey had done a lot of climbing in their day, it was usually up treeswith plenty of branches and twigs to help them.

  They found it very hard to get a grip with their little, bare, brownknees on the long, smooth trunks, and Tiki frowned thoughtfully at histree as he slid down for the fifth time.

  "You give me a leg up first," said Swanki, "and when I'm up I'll giveyou one," which was rather a silly thing to say when you come to thinkof it.

  However, you can do most things if you try hard enough, and Swanki,seeing how the last year's jackets of the cicadas, which they had quitegrown out of, were clinging to the Cabbage trees with their tiny claws,slipped her hands and feet into a set of them and through this cleveridea of hers was able to climb right up the trunk, followed by Tiki, whowas busy all the time trying to explain that he had just been going tothink of the plan himself.

  When they were at last nestled in the crown of leaves they began to lookabout for the cabbages, but could find nothing resembling Swanki's ideaof a cabbage, which wasn't very clear, but quite different from anythingthey found in that tree.

  They nibbled some of the leaves which were bitter and stringy, and triedsome of last year's flowers, which were very little better, and thenSwanki cried out in disappointment:

  "You've played me a trick, Tiki. These are not cabbages."

  She gave him an angry little push, and to her surprise he fell backwardout of the tree splash into the swamp, where she saw him struggling inthe muddy water.

  Very frightened Swanki hurried down the tree and ran to the edge of thewater, where she held out her hands to Tiki who grabbed them tightly.

  But just as she was drawing him to land the boggy piece of ground onwhich she was standing gave way, and she, too, fell into the water.

  Luckily it was not very deep, and a friendly old frog gave them a leg upthe bank, and very wet and muddy and miserable they started back for thebush.

  The worst of it was that tiresome Miss Fantail had spread it all abroadthat they had left the bush, and on the way home they met her and allher relations, and all the Piccaninnies too, setting out on a searchparty.

  "To her surprise he fell backward out of the tree."]

  How they stared and questioned and teased the poor little tiredtravellers, standing before them so wet and grimy and weary, and whenthey had heard the whole story how they all laughed at Swanki and Tiki!

  And glad, indeed, were those two Piccaninnies to sit down toa delicious tea of fern root, young nikau, and assorted berries,and nev
er again did any one hear Swanki complain of just"berries--berries--berries--roots--roots--roots."

  " ... he rocked himself to sleep among the pretty littlestarry flowers."]

  TEA TREE.

  One of the Piccaninnies had a horrid adventure one day.He had heard a tui that morning singing in the Bush, and had made up hismind to speak to it, because he was sulking with the other Piccaninnies.

  You know they say a tui can be made to talk, but it's hard to get nearenough to one to find out, but perhaps if you did get close andsurprised it, it would be so mad at you that it would _answer back_.

  The Piccaninny followed his tui up and up, but it flitted from tree topto tree top, and he could hear it tolling a bell and cracking a whip,and chuckling at him, and finally it flew away, and that was the last ofit.

  The Piccaninny, tired out, climbed up into a tea tree bush, and swunghimself gently to-and-fro until he rocked himself to sleep among thepretty little starry flowers, a thing he should never have done unless aPiccaninny Boy Scout had been posted near by in case of danger. He was_so_ drowsy, that he never heard a voice saying:

  "Oh! look here, George, this is a lovely spray!" nor felt the spray onwhich he was sleeping torn from its mother-bush, and carried away. Itwas taken into a big room in a big house, and there on a big table itwas placed in a silver vase.

  It was then the Piccaninny woke up because the bough had ceased to swaygently up and down. At first he was very surprised, and then, poking hislittle brown head out, he was horribly frightened. Instead of the greenleafy arch above him, he saw a flat white thing, and all around him wereenormous strange objects. Craning out still farther he over-balancedhimself and fell thud! upon a hard, polished flat plain. He tried toscramble to his feet, but the ground under him was so slippery that hecould only crawl gingerly on all fours and flounder about on it.