Enid Blyton (20 page)

XX

Connie was very talkative for a few days after
they had been to the Land of Enchantments.
It seemed as if she had to keep on making sure
she had her voice once more.

"Well, I half wish you
’
d lose it again," said
J
o,
when Connie had talked for about ten minutes.
"Do let someone else get a word in, Connie!"

"We
’
ll have to take her to the Land of Silence
!
"
said Bessie. "Then she
’
ll be quiet for a bit."

"What
’
s the Land of Silence?" said Connie,
who really loved to hear of all the different Lands
tha
t came to the top of the Tree.

"I don
’
t know. I only just thought of it," said
Bessie, laughing. "It may not be a Land at the top
of the Tree for all I know!"

"I wonder what Land is there now," said
Connie. "When are we going to see,
J
o?"

"There
’
s no hurry," said
J
o. "You know Silky
and Moon-Face have gone away to stay for a bit,
so they aren
’
t in the Tree; We
’
ll wait till they
come back."

"They
’
ll be back on Thursday," said Fanny.
"We
’
ll go and see them then. We
’
ll stop and buy
some of Mrs. Saucepan
’
s cakes, and take them
up to Moon-Face
’
s for tea. Mother, can we go on
Thursday?"

"Yes," said Mother. "I
’
ll make some ginger
biscuits for you to take, too."

Connie could hardly wait till Thursday came. Jo
laughed at her. "Well, considering that you
jeered at the Enchanted Wood, and didn
’
t believe
in the Faraway Tree or any of the folk in it, to
say nothing of the Lands at the top, it
’
s funny
that you
’
re keener than any of us to visit there
now!" said Jo.

Thursday came. After their dinner the children
packed up Mother
’
s lovely ginger biscuits, and set
off to the Enchanted Wood. They jumped over the
ditch and landed in the quiet wood. The trees
were whispering together loudly.

"They seem to be louder than usual," said Jo.
"They seem sort of excited today. I wonder if
anything has happened!"

"Wisha, wisha, wisha," whispered the trees
together, and waved their branches up and down.
"Wisha-wisha, wisha-wisha!"

The children walked to the Faraway Tree.
There it was, enormous, its great trunk towering
upwards, and its wide-spreading branches waving
in the wind.

J
o gave a little cry of surprise.
"What
’
s happening to the Tree? Look, some of
its leaves are curling up—sort of withering.
Surely it isn
’
t going to shed its leaves yet."

"Well, it
’s
only summer-time," said Bessie,
feeling the leaves. "Don
’
t they feel dry and
dead? I wonder what has happened to make them
go like this."

"Perhaps the leaves will be all right a bit higher
up," said Connie. "It
’s
growing no fruit of any
sort down here, is it? That
’
s rather unusual."

It certainly was. The Faraway Tree as a rule
grew all kinds of different fruits all the way up.
It might begin with lemons, go on to pears, load
itself a bit higher up with peaches, and end up
with acorns. You never knew what it would grow,
bu
t it certainly grew something.

Now
today there was no
fruit to be seen, only
withering leaves.
J
o leapt up on to the first branch.
Up he went to the next and the next, but all the
way up the leaves seemed to be withering and
dying. It was curious and rather alarming. The
Faraway Tree was magic—
something very serious
must be the matter if the leaves were dying.

"That
’s
the f
irst sign that a tree itself is dying,
if the leaves wither," said
J
o. The others looked
upset. T
hey loved the Faraway Tree, and
all its
little Tree-folk. It wasn
’
t only a tree, it was a
home for many queer little people
—
and the path
to
strange adventures far above.

The Angry Pixie was in his room.
Jo
rapped on
the window, and the Pixie picked up a jug of
water to throw. But he put it down again when
he saw it was
J
o.

"Hallo!" he said. "Are you on your way to
Moon-Face
’
s? He
’
s just back."

"I say—what
’s
the matter with the Faraway
Tree?" asked
Jo
.

The Angry Pixie shook his head gloomily.

"Don
’
t know," he said. "Nobody knows.
Nobody at all. It
’
s a very serious thing. Why, the
Faraway Tree should live to be a thousand years
old—and it
’
s only five hundred and fifty-three
so far."

The Owl was asleep in his bed. No water came
down from Dame Washalot. When
the children
got up as far as her branch, they saw her talking
seriously to old Mrs. Saucepan, who was busy
arranging stacks of new-made buns on her stall.

"Can
’
t think what
’
s the matter," Dame Washalot
was saying. "I
’
ve been here on this branch for
nea
rly a hundred years, and never—
no, never
have I known one single leaf wither. Why, the
Tree grows new ones each day, and fruit, too.
Many
’
s the time I
’
ve stripped this branch of fruit,
and before I
’
ve cooked it, it has been full again
of some other kind of fruit. Now there
’
s none to
be seen."

"You
’
re right," said Mrs. Saucepan. "I
’
ve been
up the Tree to the top, and down to the bottom,
and not a bit of fruit is there to be seen."

"Wha
t do you think is the matter?"
asked
J
o,
climbing up. But neither of the old women knew.
Mister Watzisname was looking carefully at every
curled up, withering leaf, to see if caterpillars
were the cause of the trouble.

"I thought if it was caterpillars I
’
d send a call
to all the birds in the Enchanted Wood," he said.
"They would soon p
ut things right, by eating the
grubs. But it isn
’
t caterpillars."

The children went on to Moon-Face
’
s. He was
in his curved room with Silky. But he didn
’
t
beam at them as usual as he opened his door.

He looked anxious and sad.

"Hallo!"
he said. "How nice to see you!
We
’
ve
just got back—and my, what a shock we got when
we saw the Tree! I believe it
’
s dying."

"Oh
no
!" said
J
o, quite shocked. "It
’
s a magic
Tree
, surely?"

"Yes, but even magic Trees die if something
goes wrong with them," said Moon-Face. "The
thing is
—
no one knows what
’
s wrong, you see.
We might put it right, if we knew."

"Do you think the roots want water?" asked
Bessie. Moon-Face shook his head.

"No
it
’
s been a wet summer, and besides the
Tree
’
s roots go down very, very deep—right into
s
ome old caves deep down below. J
ewels were
once found there, but I don
’
t think there are any
now."

"You know," said
J
o, looking serious,
"M
y
father once had a fine apple tree that suddenly
went like this, all its leaves curling up. I remember
quite well."

"What was the matter with it?" said Silky.

"There was something wrong with its roots,"
said
J
o. "I don
’
t know what. But I know my father
said that when a tree
’
s roots go wrong, the tree
dies unless
you can put the trouble right."

"But what could go wrong with the Faraway
Tree
’
s roots?" said Moon-Face, puzzled.

"I suppose—I suppose there couldn
’
t be anyone down there, interfering with them, could
there?" said
J
o.

Moon-
Face shook his head. "I shouldn
’
t think
so. No one is
allowed at the roots, you know.
Those old jewel-caves were closed up as soon as
the Tree
’
s roots reached to them."

"Still—it would be a good idea to find out if
anything is damaging the roots," said
Jo
. "Could
you send a rabbit down, do you think? He could
tell you, couldn
’
t he?"

"Yes. That
’s
quite a good idea,” said Moon-Face. He went to the door and whistled for the
red squirrel. When the little fellow came, Moon-Face told him to fetch one of the rabbits that lived
in the wood.

One soon came bounding up the Tree like the
squirrel! It was odd to watch him. He was proud
to be called for by Moon-Face.

"Listen, Woffles!" said Moon-Face, who knew
every single rabbit in the Enchanted Wood. "Do
you know your way down to the jewel-caves at
the roots of the Faraway Tree?"

"Of course," said Woffles. "But the caves are
closed, Mister Moon-Face. They have been for
years.
"

"Well, we think something may be damaging
the roots of the Tree," said Moon-Face. "We want
you to go down as far as you can, and see if there
is anything to find
out. Come back and tell us as
soon
as you can."

"Could I—could I just go down the Slippery-Slip for once?" said the rabbit, shyly.

"Of course," said Moon-Face, and threw him a
cushion. "There you are. Give it back to the
red sq
uirrel at the foot of the tree."

The rabbit shot off down the Slippery-Slip,
squealing with excitement and delight.

"Isn
’
t he sweet?" said Fanny. "I wish he was
mine! I hope it won
’
t be long before he
’
s back.
Shall we have tea, Moon-Face?
We
’
ve
brought
some ginger biscuits from Mother, and some seed
buns from Mrs. Saucepan."

They began their tea. Before they had
finished
the rabbit was back, looking very scared.

"Mister Moon-Face! Oh, Mister
Moon-Face!
Look at my b
obtail! Half the hairs are gone
!"

"
What
’
s happened to it?" asked Moon-Face.

"Wel
l, I went down to the old jewel-
caves,
and I heard a noise of hammering and banging,"
said the rabbit. "I burrowed a hole to see what
the noise was—and do you know, all the caves
are filled with curious little people! I don
’
t know
what they are. They saw me and one caught hold
of my tail and pulled nearly all the hairs out."

Everyone sat silent, staring from one to the
other. People in the old jewel-caves—hammering
and crashing round the roots of the Faraway Tree!
No wonder it was dying. Maybe the roots were
terribly damaged!

"We
’
ll hav
e to look into this," said Moon-
Face
at
last. "Thank you, Woffl
es. Your hairs will grow
again. Red Squirrel, go down the Tree and tell
everyone to co
me up here. We must hold a Meet
ing. Something has Got to be Done!"