Adventure Stories for Daring Girls

by Khoa Le

  He made a little cut in the top of Scarecrow’s head and poured in lots of pins and needles before sewing it back up, saying “This will make you sharper.” Then, he opened Tin Man’s hinged chest and placed a silk heart stuffed with sawdust inside. Finally, the Wizard gave Lion a small bottle of liquid courage to drink.

  Dorothy’s friends all beamed. Scarecrow felt clever, Tin Man felt full of love, and Lion felt brave enough for anything. They thanked the Wizard for his gifts.

  The Wizard looked turned to Dorothy. “You know, I think it’s high time I went back home too. Ohio and Kansas aren’t so very far apart. We can fly there together in my hot air balloon!”

  The Wizard pulled out his old hot air balloon, made some repairs, and fired it up. Just as Dorothy was about to climb into the basket, Toto wriggled out of her arms to chase a kitten.

  Dorothy couldn’t bear to leave Toto behind in Oz, so she chased after him.

  “Dorothy, the balloon won’t wait!” the Wizard called, as it started to lift up into the air.

  Dorothy caught Toto and ran back to the balloon, but it was too late. The balloon was high up in the sky and being whisked away by the wind.

  “Oh no,” cried Dorothy, with tears in her eyes. “Now I’m stuck here forever!” Although she loved her new friends dearly, she missed her Uncle Henry and Auntie Em.

  Just then, the Good Witch of the North arrived and asked Dorothy why she was crying. When Dorothy told her, the Good Witch smiled. “I have been searching for answers for you and I discovered that those silver shoes can take you home. All you have to do is click your heels three times and say where you wish to go. You will be whisked straight there.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Dorothy cried. She hugged all of her friends and promised she would never forget them.

  She picked up Toto and took a deep breath, then clicked her heels and said, “Auntie Em and Uncle Henry’s house, Kansas.”

  Dorothy was whirled through the air, as if she was back in the middle of the cyclone. She landed with a bump and looked around her. She was back on the prairie! The storm was over and there was her house, the same as it had ever been.

  “Toto, we’re home!” She hugged the little dog tight.

  Aunt Em stepped out of the house and Dorothy ran to hug her. She knew she would miss her friends and the exciting adventures of Oz, but there was no place like home!

  Hinemoa’s Great Swim

  A traditional Māori story, from New Zealand

  A long time ago, in ancient Aotearoa, there lived a girl called Hinemoa. She was the daughter of a Māori chief, Umukaria, and she was beloved by her whole tribe. They lived on the shore of the great Lake Rotorua. It was a wild and adventurous land, but Hinemoa did not tend to explore much. She knew her path in life and was happy to walk it. One day, she would be expected to marry the son of a chief from another tribe and go to live with them. Until then, she enjoyed sitting by the lake with her family.

  Lake Rotorua was so large that in the middle of it was an island, called Mokoia Island, where another tribe lived. One day, the Mokoia tribe came to the shore for a great gathering. They all met in the meeting hall of Hinemoa’s tribe, which was called a marae. The two tribes shared food, swapped stories, and danced. As Hinemoa danced, her eye was caught by a young man, standing on the edge of the marae. He was so handsome that she wondered how she had not noticed him at previous gatherings. When Hinemoa smiled at him, he smiled back and it was like his whole face was being lit by the sun.

  Hinemoa found her feet carrying her toward him.

  “Hello, Hinemoa,” he said.

  Hinemoa frowned. “You know me?”

  The boy smiled. “Of course. You are the daughter of the chief, princess of your tribe. We all know who you are, beautiful Hinemoa.”

  Hinemoa blushed, partly because he had called her beautiful, but also because she didn’t know who he was. “I am sorry—I cannot remember your name,” she admitted.

  “You cannot remember what you do not know,” said the boy. “I am Tutanekai.”

  As their eyes locked, Hinemoa felt like she was flying. So, this is love at first sight, was all she could think as she gazed at him.

  “Tutanekai,” she repeated. “I am so glad to know you now.”

  They spent the whole meeting talking and laughing. It was as if they had been friends for their entire lives. When the tribes parted, Hinemoa was sad to say goodbye but she watched the canoes sailing back to Mokoia Island with a warm glow in her heart. She knew she had found the person she was meant to be with. She told nobody yet, for she knew that Tutanekai was not the son of the chief. She didn’t want to hear anybody reminding her that she would not be allowed to marry a commoner.

  The next time the tribes met, Hinemoa was so excited that she couldn’t sleep the night before. She was up and waiting by the shore of the lake before the canoes had even set off. And when she saw Tutanekai climbing ashore, her heart skipped a beat. This time, he had brought his wooden flute to play at the gathering. Hinemoa couldn’t ever remember hearing such sweet music.

  Later on, they slipped outside the marae together. Hinemoa told Tutanekai that she loved him and he said that he loved her too.

  “If only I were the son of a chief, we could be married,” sighed Tutanekai.

  “We can be married anyway,” Hinemoa insisted.

  Tutanekai looked doubtful. “Surely your parents will not allow it?” he said. “Even my tribe won’t be pleased if I get above my station.”

  “We will talk to them,” Hinemoa said, tossing her head. “We can persuade them.”

  And so, the two young lovers went to ask the chiefs that same day.

  When Hinemoa had finished speaking, Umukaria looked at his daughter sadly. “I am so sorry, Hinemoa, but it is not possible. Tutanekai is a fine man, but he isn’t going to be a chief.”

  Hinemoa’s eyes flashed. “I do not care! I could never love a chief the way I do Tutanekai.”

  Her father sighed. “It still is not possible.”

  “I agree,” added Tutanekai’s chief. “Such a marriage is impossible.”

  “I do not want this marriage for status,” said Tutanekai. “I love Hinemoa for her, not because she is the daughter of a chief.”

  His chief looked at them both, with a sad smile. “Then you two have a true love. But we cannot change the rules. Now, it is time for you to come home.”

  Tutanekai was bundled into a canoe, while Hinemoa cried on the shore.

  Umukaria ordered all of the tribe’s canoes to be pulled far out of the water, so that Hinemoa couldn’t take one and go after Tutanekai.

  That night, as the moon and the stars shone down over the great lake, Hinemoa stared over at the shadowy shape of Mokoia Island. She knew that she could not obey her family and wait to marry a chief’s son. She longed for Tutanekai and her heart was breaking under the weight of knowing she might never be allowed to see him again.

  Just then, she heard a soft sound of a flute floating over the still surface of the lake. It was Tutanekai playing the same tune he had played for her the day they had met! She closed her eyes; the music made it easy to imagine that he was right there with her. She stayed there and the music carried on playing, until the darkness began to turn into the pale morning.

  Every night after that, Hinemoa would sneak out to look over at Mokoia. And every night, the beautiful flute music would come drifting over the lake, a message from her true love.

  One night, Hinemoa could bear it no longer. Her heart ached for Tutanekai.

  “If I can’t use a canoe, I will swim to him,” she said to herself.

  Now, Hinemoa had lived on the shores of Lake Rotorua for her whole life. She knew the lake was vast and that the swim would be hard.

  All of the children of her tribe could swim, but Hinemoa had always preferred paddling and splashing at the shore to swimmi
ng seriously. She decided that she should get better and stronger, so for weeks she rose early and swam farther and farther every day, until she was the best swimmer in her tribe.

  She was still worried about quite how far the journey was. She knew if she could get something to help her float, that would make the journey easier, as she would be able to rest a while when she got tired.

  She found a pile of hollow gourds that her tribe used as drinking flasks on the ground outside her hut. She took several of the gourds and tied them to her dress with twine. When she got into the water, the hollow gourds floated, as she had hoped.

  Hinemoa quietly paddled out away from the shore. With the silver moon high in the sky and Tutanekai’s music guiding her, she knew exactly where she needed to go.

  She swam harder than she ever had in her life. It took a very long time, and the moon rose and set again while she swam on. The currents of the lake were strong, and several times she tired. But the sound of Tutanekai’s music always pulled her on.

  Eventually, when she was entirely exhausted, she arrived on the shore of Mokoia Island. She flopped down, panting and shivering. She knew that Tutanekai was so close but she barely had any strength to crawl.

  On the shore of Mokoia were several pools where hot water bubbled out from deep underground. Hinemoa crawled to one of them and slipped in, letting the warm water soothe her tired body. There, she pondered how she would find Tutanekai without alerting the rest of his tribe, for they would be sure to send her home.

  Just then, a servant arrived at the pools. Tutanekai had sent him for water, so that he could carry on playing his flute on the hilltop for Hinemoa. The servant was carrying a hollow gourd to fill, just like the ones Hinemoa had used for her great swim.

  As the servant approached, he could see the shape of someone sitting in one of the pools. “Don’t mind me,” he said. “I am just here to fetch water for Tutanekai and then I will be gone.”

  As he dipped the gourd into the water, Hinemoa hit it with her fist and broke it.

  “What are you doing?” the servant cried in anger. “You wait until I tell Tutanekai, whoever you are!” he hurried away.

  Hinemoa smiled to herself. A few moments later, the flute music stopped. And a few more moments after that, she heard footsteps approaching the pools.

  “Who are you and why did you attack my servant when he was bringing me water?” Tutanekai demanded.

  Hinemoa climbed out of the pool to be reunited with her true love.

  Tutanekai wrapped her in his arms and they went to find her some dry clothes.

  When the morning sun rose and the tribe found that Hinemoa was there, Tutanekai told them of her great swim across the lake.

  His chief looked thoughtful. “In that case, it seems to me that your love is stronger than rules. If it cannot be defeated by the lake itself, I don’t see how our tribe can stand in its way.”

  He sailed Tutanekai and Hinemoa over to the shore himself. Her anxious family had been searching for her, but when they heard the tale, Hinemoa’s parents agreed.

  And so, thanks to Hinemoa’s bravery and determination, she and Tutanekai were together for the rest of their happy lives.

  Chimidyue and the Butterfly

  A traditional Ticuna story, from South America

  There once was a young girl named Chimidyue. She lived with her family in a clearing in the Amazon rain forest. The wide, strong Amazon river gushed right past their clearing on its long, winding journey to the sea.

  Chimidyue’s entire family—parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins—all lived in one big house in the middle of the clearing, called a maloca. Every night, they gathered to eat, talk, and sleep. During the day, everyone went their separate ways. The older family members went into the forest to fish and hunt. Chimidyue and the other young children had to help with the household chores or weeding the vegetable patches. It was against the rules for the children to go into the forest.

  “You can get lost in moments and never find your way back,” Chimidyue’s mother told her. “And besides, it’s full of vicious animals and evil spirits.”

  Chimidyue listened to her mother’s advice, but she often peered through the huge trees, hoping to see something as exciting as a vicious animal or evil spirit. One day, she was sitting outside the maloca, weaving a basket. A beautiful big blue morpho butterfly hovered right in front of her. Sunlight flashed off its bright wings.

  “You look magical,” Chimidyue whispered, as the butterfly danced through the air. “I do wish I could be like you!”

  The butterfly twirled in the air, as if it was pleased. Then, it fluttered toward the edge of the clearing.

  Chimidyue followed it, giggling and flapping her arms. Her basket was forgotten on the ground.

  The butterfly carried on flitting, going between two big trees, then under a vine, around a bush, and over a fallen tree trunk. Chimidyue followed, trying to copy the way it could fly and float.

  Finally, the butterfly passed between some vines and disappeared. Chimidyue blinked. It was like she had been dreaming and was just waking up, but she had followed the butterfly deep into the forest—and she had no idea which was the way home!

  “Mother! Father! Help!” she called into the trees. “It’s Chimidyue, I’m lost! Help!”

  But nobody came to her.

  Chimidyue did her very best not to panic. “Perhaps I can find a path,” she told herself.

  She started to walk, and after a while, she heard a sharp tapping noise. “Maybe that is someone working in the forest?” she said to herself, hopefully. But it turned out to be just a woodpecker, tapping away at a tree trunk.

  “If only you were human, I’m sure you could show me the way home,” Chimidyue sighed.

  The woodpecker glared at her. “I don’t have to be human to do that,” it snapped. “I know exactly where you live.”

  Chimidyue clasped her hands together. “Oh, could you please show me?”

  “Of course not, I’m busy,” said the woodpecker, turning back to the tree trunk. “You wretched humans think we’re all just here to serve you. I am just as important as you. You’ve got yourself lost, so you can find your way back.”

  Chimidyue walked on, feeling uncomfortable. She had expected vicious beasts but she hadn’t known that the animals of the forest thought that humans were so conceited and selfish.

  As she walked on, she heard other animals muttering. Some moaned about how humans had cut down their tree homes, others about how humans had hunted and killed their relatives.

  I never thought about it like that… Chimidyue thought to herself.

  As she walked, she still had no clue which way home was, and she was starting to get hungry. A spider monkey troop was climbing through the trees above her, picking fruits. One of them dropped some juicy fruit and Chimidyue scooped it up to eat.

  “If I follow these monkeys, at least I won’t starve,” Chimidyue told herself. “Monkeys always know where to find fruit.”

  So, she walked along beneath the monkeys, picking up any fruit that they dropped. The sun began to sink low in the sky and Chimidyue still had no idea how to find her way home. She could hear the night creatures of the forest waking up and felt scared.

  “Still, monkeys know how to stay safe from jaguars,” she murmured. “I’ll watch where they go to sleep and I’ll sleep there too.”

  So, as the light faded, Chimidyue carried on following the monkeys through the forest. When the sun had almost set completely, she saw the monkeys start to climb down from the trees. To her surprise, as each monkey’s paws touched the ground, it changed into a human!

  “Why, Chimidyue, it’s you!” said a monkey man in a friendly voice. “What are you doing here?”

  Chimidyue struggled to find words. “I, I, I—followed a butterfly and then I got lost and now I can’t find my way
home.”

  A kindly monkey woman smiled at her. “Don’t worry, we can take you home tomorrow. Tonight, you are welcome to come with us.”

  “We’re going to a festival. We’ve been invited by the Lord of the Monkeys.”

  “Oh, thank you, thank you!” Chimidyue cried, relieved to have found help at last. She followed the monkey people through the forest and soon they arrived at a big maloca, lit by big wooden torches.

  Inside the maloca sat the Monkey Lord, in his human form. He frowned when he saw Chimidyue. “Human, why have you come to my festival?”

  “We invited her,” said the monkey woman.

  The Monkey Lord grunted and said no more, but he was nowhere near as friendly as the other monkey people.

  More and more monkey people arrived. They were all walking in human form, but many of them had wooden monkey masks on, or had painted their faces with black paint. They all greeted each other cheerily and drank together.

  The Monkey Lord arose. “Now it is time for the dancing,” he announced.

  Several monkey people began to beat drums and shake rattle sticks. Others sang or played flutes. And everyone else began to dance.

  Chimidyue stood shyly at the side. She didn’t feel confident enough to join in, but she was amazed. Their festival is just like the ones we have at home, she thought.

  The dancing went on for hours and hours. Then, everyone began to tire and went to their hammocks for the night. The monkey lady fixed up a small hammock for Chimidyue next to hers.

  Chimidyue climbed in, her mind whirring from her strange day in the forest. She tried to go to sleep, but the Monkey Lord was snoring loudly nearby and the noise kept her awake. As she lay in the darkness, listening to him, she heard the Monkey Lord muttering in his sleep!