Secret Warm Hollow Untold

There is a fence round the Ada Tree.

Several people in hiking boots and shorts are looking up at it.

Wow! says one.

Majestic, says another.

Makes you feel small, says a third.

Hello! says Terence, who has run ahead of his party. Is this the Ada?

It is, says the one who said Wow!

We've got a poem for it, says Terence.

How imaginative! says the one who said Majestic.

It's not finished, says Terence, but it starts like this, A tree has died....

There follows a thoughtful silence.

The Ada Tree has not died. Where is this little chap's poem going?

It's about another tree that died by it's side, says Terence. That's the beginning. Then ...

Ranger Roger, Gaius and Pierre-Louis arrive at the Ada Tree.

Here she is, says Ranger Roger. The Ada.

Magnificent! says Gaius. He opens his back pack.

Banjo jumps out, runs up the Ada and vanishes.

Hey! shout Terence. What about your poem?

But the Ada is seventy-six metres tall, and Banjo is now out of earshot.

I'll say it, says Easter Morning, who has jumped out as well.

Is it complete now? asks Gaius. Go on then.

A tree has died, says Easter Morning, It fell on its side, and got fader and fader, but who came along?  It was the Ada. She grew until she grew old. She didn't mind the cold. She had a secret warm hollow, untold.

That is very good, says Gaius. A secret warm hollow untold.

Reminds me of that dream I had, says Pierre-Louis.

Hum, says Gaius. Who came up with the ending?

Banjo, says Terence. He finally turned into a poet.

Call him down, says Ranger Roger. He can't stay up the Ada.

Banjo! shouts Terence. Come down!

But Banjo has reached the secret hollow near the top of the Ada.

He has entered. No one is home.

Who lives here? wonders Banjo.

I do, comes a warm secret reply.

Holy Mackerel! says Banjo. Who's talking?

Me, says the warm secret reply. Why did you say Holy Mackerel?

One of my friends is a fruit bat, says Banjo.

At least you didn't say Almighty Ada! says the warm secret voice. I reject that human name.

Isn't it your name? asks Banjo.

No, it's the name of a woman who was known to the surveyor, says the warm secret voice. Ada Mortimore.

My name's Banjo, says Banjo.

I guessed that, says the warm secret voice. And thanks for your poem.

Huh? says Banjo.

Your skink friend declaimed it below, says the warm secret voice.

You must have good ears, says Banjo.

I have, says the warm secret voice. And one of your friends is calling for you to come down.

Oh. Bye! says Banjo.

Bye! says the warm secret voice. By the way, my true name is Melia. 

Do you want me to change it in the poem? asks Banjo.

No, I don't, says the Melia.