The Moon Tree

The Moon Tree is fed up with her fruit being stolen. She goes on a journey with a chinchilla to find a better place to put down roots. But they find themselves on Dragon Mountain......

The Moon Tree

Once upon a time there was a tree. Her fruit grew in the shape of new moons and as they began to ripen they became perfectly round and gave off a wonderful smell. She had once been part of a large forest, but over time all the fruit had been stolen, and the trees cut down for firewood, and there was no fruit left to grow into new trees. She was the only moon tree left. Under the roots of the tree a chinchilla had made its home. He lived quite happily with the moon tree, but the moon tree was not happy at all.

One day she said, “I’ve had enough. I’m leaving before all my fruit is stolen.”

The chinchilla popped his head out of his hole and stared at the moon tree in astonishment. “But where will you go?” he asked

“I’m going where nobody can find me and no one can steal my precious fruit,” said the moon tree.

And with that she gave herself a mighty shake and pulled up her roots, one at a time, out of the ground, which made an enormous wrenching sound. The chinchilla only just managed to get out of the way in time. He couldn’t bear the thought of being left behind. “Wait for me,” he shouted, “I’m coming too.” And he scampered after her. The tree ran as fast as her roots could carry her, with the chinchilla perched on one of her branches, holding on for dear life. She ran until she came to the foot of a mountain.

“This is where I shall stay,” said the moon tree, dipping her roots into a cooling mountain stream, “On the side of Dragon Mountain.”

“But there are no other trees,” said the chinchilla, “And the earth is all burnt up.”

“Yes,” said the moon tree, “but there are no people to steal my fruit, and I can’t go any further” And with that she plunged her roots into the earth and heaved a sigh of relief.

The tree was very happy; she didn’t have to worry about anything. The chinchilla made his home again under her roots, and they both basked in the sunshine. Her fruit grew again and all was peaceful.

 

Peaceful that is until one day, when the chinchilla was perched in the branches of the tree, and the tree had begun to gently hum the ripe fruit song, their peace was shattered. It began with a far off noise, a gentle whoomph whoomph. It grew louder and louder until from around the mountain a great creature swooped down breathing fire and smoke. As it landed, it scorched the earth in front of it. It turned and looked at the tree and the chinchilla, who realised that this was a dragon and it was far too late to run away.

“What is that sound?” asked the dragon, who had very good hearing, fixing the dragon with a penetrating stare.

“That’s, that’s the moon tree,” stuttered the chinchilla, when he could find his voice, “s s singing her song.”

“And what song is that?” asked the dragon. The chinchilla, realising he was probably going to be eaten anyway, suddenly became much braver and said, “That’s the ripe fruit song, and if you like I can climb up and pick you the best fruit.”

“Hmm,” said the dragon, considering, but the chinchilla didn’t give him time to think any longer. He jumped up and sprang into the branches of the tree, where he grabbed the nearest fruit and hurled it straight at the dragon. He was a good shot; it landed right between the dragon’s eyes, and the dragon, taken aback, withdrew a little. But now the chinchilla was in full swing and he threw fruit after fruit at the dragon, who was splattered all over with squashed moon fruit. At last there was no more fruit to throw and the chinchilla, who had begun to enjoy himself, and forget the danger, stopped and looked around him in terror.

The dragon however, instead of being angry, was happily licking all the fruit off himself with his very long tongue. The chinchilla, very slowly and as quietly as possible, climbed down out of the tree and crept into his burrow, hidden between the roots, where he curled up and trembled, as quietly as possible. The dragon took a long time to lick up all the fruit, and when he had, he let out a long and satisfied burp. He then flew up into his cave in the mountains, where he fell asleep and slept for a long time. The chinchilla also slept. He was too tired to do anything else.

The poor moon tree felt as if she had jumped out of the frying pan into the fire. The dragon had eaten up all her fruit. Wherever would she find a peaceful place to stay? But after a while she fell asleep and had a dream. She dreamt of a forest of moon trees, growing up right where she stood, underneath the mountain.

It was only later in the evening that the wind began to blow and the moon tree was woken by the breeze blowing through her branches. She felt wonderfully refreshed and basked in the moonlight. It took three days for the chinchilla to come out of his burrow, and he was very hungry indeed. He tried to persuade the tree to run away again, but she refused. He even tried pushing and pushing against her trunk, but couldn’t move her an inch. He went off in search of food. While he was away the dragon arrived back; he appeared out of nowhere with a whoomph of his wings. The moon tree trembled. She had no ripe fruit to give the dragon and hoped he wouldn’t burn her up in anger. The dragon walked three times round the tree, each time getting closer. His long nose sniffed and sniffed and eventually he found the chinchilla’s burrow.

He stuck his nose down inside it and called in a suspiciously friendly voice, “Hallo, little friend, it’s me,” and then he waited. The chinchilla, who had arrived back, decided to stay hidden behind a rock. The dragon, realising the burrow was empty, began to muse aloud.

“Hmm, chinchilla on toast, roasted chinchilla, chinchilli burgers,” and he laughed aloud at his own cleverness.

The tree decided to speak up. “I had a dream,” she said. The dragon was taken aback; he had never heard of a talking tree.

“I dreamt there was a forest of moon trees just like me, right here under the mountain.” The dragon considered, “Hmm,” he said, “That would be good.”

“If you let some of my fruits grow into new trees, there will be lots of trees and lots of fruit to eat. But you have to promise me two things. You will protect me from the people who try and eat up all my fruit, leave enough fruit on the tree to grow into new trees and not eat the chinchilla. Who is my very good friend.”

“That,” said the dragon, who could count, “is three things.”

“And,” said the tree, ignoring the dragon, “if you want new trees to grow into healthy trees, you will have to collect moon dust to sprinkle over them. For that is the best thing for growing Moon trees.”

“Moon dust?” but the tree had said enough; she would say no more. The dragon considered. He liked the sound of a whole forest of moon trees, but he also loved to eat chinchilla. However, there was only one chinchilla, and there might be lots of moon trees. He decided he would help the moon tree.

“Hey chinchilla, come out wherever you are. I’m not going to eat you, but you have to help me get some moon dust.”

“What a silly idea,” thought the chinchilla, and emerged from behind his rock, “No one can get moon dust, it’s much too far away.”

“Easy peasy,” said the dragon, “Lemon squeezy.” And he stared fixedly at the chinchilla. The chinchilla stared back and suddenly gave a nervous laugh. “Ha ha,” he said, “For one minute I thought you meant I’d have to, you know, climb on your back and, and, and go with you.”

“Oh no,” said the dragon, and the chinchilla relaxed. “Not on my back, the best place is on my neck, right behind my horns.” The chinchilla shot into his burrow, curled up into a ball, closed his eyes tight shut and wrapped his tail around him.

“That way,” the dragon stuck his nose into the burrow, “You’d have something to hold onto.”

It took a long time to persuade the chinchilla. He was not very brave. But one day, when the moon was full, they set off. The chinchilla was wearing a small rucksack, and he climbed, with great trepidation, onto the dragon’s neck. He had just settled himself comfortably and begun to think, “This really is easy, lemon AARGH!” The dragon had lifted his head and the chinchilla found himself much too far from the ground. He flung his arms round the dragon’s neck, with his eyes tight shut, squeezing with all his might.

“Let go,” shouted the dragon, “Or you’ll choke me.” The chinchilla privately thought that might not be a bad idea, but eventually they took off and he was at last brave enough to sit up and hold onto the dragon’s horns.

When they arrived at the moon, it was the chinchilla’s job to scoop as much moondust as he could into the rucksack. They arrived home and scattered handfuls over the tree, which grew tall and produced lots more fruit which grew into new trees. Sometimes people were allowed to come and pick the fruit. The dragon kept his promise and didn’t eat the chinchilla, or any of his copious family. He had enough moon fruit to keep him happy for the rest of his life. And that is why dragons never eat chinchillas, no matter how much they may want to.

 

Reviews

[katie]

This story was wonderful! Full of magic! I hope to read it to my little one when she's old enough to understand! ^_^

[Christine]

So glad you enjoyed it. Hope your little one does too.

[Woody]

a delicious story for children with all the right ingredients. the little child hidden inside me enjoyed this very much :)

[Christine]

Thank you, much appreciated.