The Whistling Sand Gourds

The silver ramp of Moonship lowered with a soft, friendly hiss, and Knut stepped out into the warm sunshine. After the icy drifts of Planet Tiumberly, Sheekium felt like sitting right beside a cozy bakery oven. The air smelled wonderfully sweet, like toasted caramel and sun-baked biscuits. Knut took a deep breath, his pink heart-shaped head bobbing in delight. Over his comfy underpant spacesuit, he wore his breezy, light-blue sun tunic, which fluttered gently around his knees whenever the warm desert wind blew past.

Beside him, Dinkabel hopped down onto the orange sand, shading her eyes with both hands. Ahead of them, the dunes rolled on and on like giant waves of cinnamon sugar beneath a pale amber sky. Somewhere out there, the pearl-white unicorn had told them, her sister was resting, waiting to be found. But the desert was very big, and the dunes were very tall, and neither Knut nor Dinkabel quite knew which way to walk first.

"Let's listen carefully," Knut whispered, cupping a pink hand to his ear. "The unicorn said Sheekium has its own quiet magic if you stop and pay attention."

They started down the slope of the first great hill. Swoosh, scritch, swoosh, went their boots in the soft orange powder. In the far distance, a herd of long-necked sand-tortoises plodded along without any hurry at all, their big round shells glinting in the sunshine like polished pebbles. Knut waved a friendly mitten at the tortoises, and one of them blinked its sleepy eyes in return.

Then, as they reached the valley between two bright dunes, Knut spotted something peculiar poking out of the sand. It was not a rock, and it was not a sleeping tortoise. It was a row of smooth, round gourds, half-buried in the orange dust. They were made of glossy ceramic, painted in stripes of terracotta and creamy white, each with a neat round hole right at its top.

"Look at these!" Dinkabel said, kneeling down to brush the loose grains from their polished sides.

Just then, a gust of warm wind swept over the crest of the dune. It rushed down into the hollow and blew straight across the open tops of the gourds. Hoooo-tooot-whistle! went the first gourd. Wheee-loo-hum! answered the second. One after another, the ceramic gourds began to sing. It was a cheerful, bubbling tune that sounded like friendly teapots whistling a tea-time lullaby.

Knut grinned, his warm aura glowing a little brighter. "They aren't just gourds," he laughed, watching the sand dance around their rims. "They are music-makers!"

As the wind blew harder, the merry melody seemed to carry in one clear direction. The notes drifted up and over the next orange ridge, floating toward a cool shadow cast by a cluster of rocky overhangs. Knut and Dinkabel looked at each other, their smiles matching. The singing gourds were pointing the way, leading them straight toward a sheltered place where a tired unicorn might be resting out of the midday heat.