A Southern Cross fairy tale

by Kate McCosh Clark

The Tui called out excitedly, “Make haste! take your places if you want to see the Gavotte, here comes the great dancer of the evening!” and all the birds and fairies hurried to get good places on the branches near by, while caterpillars and lizards stood up on their tails. Then out from the thick underwood came two crows,[7] proudly strutting side by side; the male bird took his place upon a straight leafless branch, well in sight of all the expectant throng, while the female bird sat down on a fallen mossy bough, where she could see her mate.

Crow.

Then he began the Gavotte, and what a lively performance it was! up and down, up and down the branch, springing, pirouetting, tail and wings out-spread, with many a fanciful step and flourish, danced the crow right merrily to his own sweet gurgling music. Truly he was a mate worthy of the little wife he had won by his dancing at pairing time; she was sitting near, watching, and when the dance was ended he looked down at her proudly, while the on-lookers applauded.

“Capital! capital!” shouted little Cis and Hal, clapping, and the Tui overhead echoed their words.

“How nice to have a husband who can dance and sing so well!” said one of the parrakeets.

“Yes,” said the lady crow, “it is nice, of course, but there are other things to be considered in choosing a husband; still he is a good one on the whole, though sometimes I should like to join in the whistling and dancing, too. Let us have a dance all together now!” she added, and the owl, having got over his fit of the sulks, asked for his raupo stem to be handed to him again, and started the music afresh.

The crow, offended by his wife’s remarks, chose another partner for a while, but Cis, watching, saw that he soon went back to her, and a little later on the pair slipped away into the wood together, so she supposed they had made up their tiff.

Then the dancers took a rest, for they were all rather tired.

“Oh, look!” said the grey robin, who was still sitting on the bush near Cis, “there are the Tuataras; what a wonder it is for them to come and see us. How do you do?” called out the bird, at the same time nodding his head condescendingly to two large stone-coloured lizards with a row of white spines down their backs, who glided into the open space, and, lying down on some stones, watched the scene with solemn bright eyes.