The Wave by Amy Mack

Part 2

She looked up quickly, and there, leaning 
over the edge of the boat, was the prettiest sight 
she had ever seen. Three children were looking 
down at her, with their heads close together, 
their bright curls dancing in the breeze, and 
their faces shining with delight. They clapped 
their hands, and she tried to jump up to catch 
them. But she was not big enough to reach the 
top of the boat, so she danced along beside it. 

“That’s the prettiest wave I’ve ever seen,” 
said one child. 

“Oh, I like the ones on the beach best,” said 

“Yes, the waves at Bondi are the prettiest in 
the world,” said the third. Then they went on 
to talk of how the waves broke up on the beach 
at Bondi and washed round their feet when they 
paddled, and rolled them over on the sand when 
they bathed, and they all agreed that Bondi was 
the most beautiful place in the world, and they 
wished they could go back there. 

The Wave listened to all they said, and she 
longed to see this wonderful Bondi of which 
they spoke, where the waves rolled the children 
over on the beach. She had enjoyed playing 
with the fishes and the birds, but now that she 
had seen these pretty pink and white children 
she had lost interest in her first playmates, and 
only wanted to play with children. 

“Where do these children come from?” she 
asked the Wind. 

“From that land over there,” said the Wind. 

She looked to where he was pointing, and 
saw, for the first time, a distant shore with 
green hills sloping down to the sea. 

“ Is that Bondi?” she asked eagerly. 

“Oh, no; Bondi is a long way from here.” 

“How do you get there?” 

“You must travel on and on for miles and 
miles. It is right across the ocean,” replied the 

“Have you ever been there?” 

“Oh, yes; often.” 

“Did you like it?” 

“Yes; I think it is one of the most beautiful 
places in the world. And I have such fun there, 
blowing the people's hats off and puffing their 
hair into their eyes. There are lovely waves 
there, too, and the children swim in them. 
Would you like to go there?" 

“Oh, yes, yes," cried the Wave. “Could you 
take me?" 

“Yes, if you would not grow tired on the 

“Oh, no; I will not tire. Do take me, dear, 
dear Wind." 

“Very well," said the Wind. “Let us start 
at once." 

So off they went. 

The Wind puffed out his cheeks till they 
looked as if they would burst, and blew upon 
the Wave to help her along. She lifted her 
foam-crowned head into the air, and raced along 
before him. Over the ocean they went at such 
a rate that even the sunbeams could scarcely 
keep up with them. Some wild sea eagles saw 
them and came rushing along to look, shouting 
“Go on, Wave, you'll win," for they thought 
it was a race. A crowd of porpoises heard the 
sea eagles, and also began to applaud, waving 
their fins wildly in the air as they rolled over. 
They looked so funny that the Wave could 
hardly run for laughing. 

“Wait a minute, Wind,” she cried, and she 
stopped running, and gurgled slowly past the 
fat porpoises, tickling them as they passed. 

Then on they went again, rushing and tear¬ 
ing. They passed many things on the way that 
the Wave had never seen before, although they 
were all old friends to the Wind. Big steamers 
came ploughing up the sea, frightening the 
Wave at first, till she found it was fun to slap 
up against them; big ships with white sails 
came gliding over the water, and she liked them 
better, and stayed to play around their bows, 
while the Wind whistled through their sails. 

But the ships and steamers passed upon their 
way, and so the Wind and the Wave went 
travelling on again. Once they passed a boat 
like the one the children had been in, and the 
Wave danced up to look if there were any 
children there. But all she saw were two 
brown-faced fishermen, so she hurried past. 

At last they came to an island, and as the 
Wave had never been close to land, they went 
to look at it. There were rough rocks all along 
the sea’s edge, and a couple of men fishing. 

“Where is the beach? Where are the 
children?” asked the Wave.

“There is no beach here, and no children— 
only grown-up men.” 

“Then we won’t wait,” said the Wave, “for 
I do not like the look of those rough rocks.” 

“You are right. Those rocks are rough, and 
would tear you to pieces if you went too near 

“Then let us hurry past them,” said the 
Wave; so they ran as hard as they could till the 
island and the rocks were left far behind. 

But although they saw so many things that 
were new and strange, the Wave was not much 
interested in them. All she could think of was 
the long white beach at Bondi where she could 
roll the children over in her arms. Only that 
morning she had never heard of a beach or of 
children, and she had been perfectly happy 
and contented, but now she knew that nothing 
would satisfy her but that beautiful beach of 
which those three children had talked. 

“Is it very far now?” she asked the Wind, as 
the sun was beginning to travel down the 
western sky. 

“No,” replied the Wind. “We shall soon be 
there now.” 

They journeyed on again in silence for a 
little while; then the Wind said: 

“Do you see that dark line at the edge of the 

The Wave lifted her head, and looked across 
the water to where a long blue line rose into the 

“Yes, I see it,” she said. 

That is Australia, and Bondi is straight 
before us. If we hurry we shall get there 
before sunset.” 

The Wave bubbled with excitement. “Sing 
to me, dear Wind,” she said. So the Wind 
sang, and she danced along before him. 

As they drew nearer, the blue line became 
more and more distinct, and they could see trees 
and cliffs, and long white lines between the 

“Those are the beaches,” said the Wind, “and 
that long one with the low ground behind it is 

The Wave danced more quickly than ever. 

“Oh, come on,” she cried, “I can see chil¬ 
dren,” and on they went. 

The beach was quite near now, and they 
could see men and women walking along, and 
at the water’s edge ever so many children play¬ 
ing; and the Wave saw that there were many 
other waves now, all running up to the beach. 

“Oh, the beautiful beach and the dear chil¬ 
dren !” she cried. “If only I could hold those 
children in my arms, and kiss that beach, I shall 
die happy. Help me, good Wind.” 

Then the Wind puffed out his cheeks wider 
than ever, and, bending low behind the Wave, 
blew hard and lifted her high. With arms out¬ 
stretched and foam-hair flying, she raced along 
before him. In a minute she had reached the 
other waves, all running to the shore, but she 
ran fastest of all. Higher and higher the Wind 
lifted her, and she felt herself growing stronger, 
The weight of water below and behind seemed 
to be urging her forward; just in front she 
could see a group of children paddling, and 
behind them lay the beautiful shining white 
sand. She stretched out her arms still wider, 
lifted her head still higher, and with one leap 
reached the shore. Straight up she stood in a 
clear green wall, with a crest of white foam. 
'For a second she seemed to stand still, then she 
hurled herself forward upon the group of Chil¬ 
dren. Laughing and screaming, they tumbled 
along the sand beneath her, as she rolled them 
over with her arms. She wanted to wait and 
play with them, but she was moving too quickly 
to stop. On she went, up the white beach. Her 
heart was aching with joy. Tenderly and softly 
she kissed the sand as she passed, but each kiss 
seemed to leave her weaker, and as she reached 
the highest watermark the joy of lying on the 
dear beach was too much for her, and her heart 

Then slowly and gently the mother sea drew 
her back down the beach, till she was lost again 
in the deep blue ocean. And the Wind sighed 
sadly for the loss of his dear little companion, 
who had only lived for one short day.