African and Caribbean Folktales, Myths and Legends by Wendy Shearer

Author:Wendy Shearer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic UK
Published: 2021-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

The Moongazer

Across the Caribbean countries, children are told about a giant ghostly figure that appears on the night of a full moon and scares everyone in the villages. In this version of the tale from Guyana, the Moongazer arrives and causes panic and destruction, until one brave girl saves the day.

Along the dark Essequibo River, there are hundreds of tiny islands, filled with coconut groves, waterfalls and rainforests crawling with wild animals. Slow-moving sloths, giant armadillos and white bearded capuchin monkeys play together in the forests.

On one of these small islands, a young girl named Cleo lived with her family in Parika village. She had walnut-coloured skin and wide eyes like an owl. Her five older brothers were stronger and taller than Cleo, but she was the most fearless. Whenever they explored in the forests and came across big cats prowling through the trees, Cleo was the one who would stand still whilst her brothers ran away. She held out her hands to the black-coated leopards and jaguars who came up to lick her palms. The animals never harmed or scared her.

Every day she and her friends went swimming in the rivers and creeks after school, to cool down from the sun’s fierce heat. Sometimes they’d spot two large eyes floating in the water. “CROCODILE!” her friends would yell, swimming as fast as they could to the closest riverbank. But Cleo just giggled and splashed their long mouths. Then she’d sit on the crocodile’s scaly back and ride the crocodile to shore.

Cleo wasn’t only brave around wild animals. She had no fear of heights either. She’d climb up the tallest coconut tree and swing on their giant palms or jump from the highest waterfalls into fast-flowing rapids.

“Ayeeeeeeeeeee!” she’d scream out, diving all the way down with arms outstretched like a flying macaw.

One night, after a large supper of curry chicken and rice, Cleo and her family took their evening stroll. They’d often walk for miles alongside the Essequibo River. On this moonlit night, they passed the timber yard and the harbour, where ferry boats carried people between the islands. The bustling sounds from the market had died down as traders packed up their stalls. Cleo was strolling beside her mother, holding her hand, when they heard an ear-splitting scream and somebody shouting.

“RUN. EVERYBODY RUN!” People started scattering and bumping into each other, dropping their belongings. There was an unfamiliar sound of heavy stamping in the distance which shook the ground all around them. Cleo’s family held on to each other, but no one knew which way to turn.

“What is happening?” Cleo asked her mother, but got no reply. She looked up and saw that fear had snatched her mother’s voice, leaving her unable to speak. “We need to go home,” she eventually managed to say, and tugged at Cleo’s hand, forgetting how fearless her daughter always was. Cleo did not want to turn and run; she wanted to face whatever was there. As the rest of her family ran towards their home, she slipped away in the opposite direction and headed towards the sound of the stamping.

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