UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROUNA School of Library Science J 30^937 Barrie Peter and Wendy UNIVERSITY OF N.C, AT CHAPEL HILL 00022093495 This BOOK may be kept out TWO WEEKS ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIVE CENTS a day thereafter. It is DUE on the DAY indicated below: a ft 1 te f f fe 1 / 1973 i / % Form No. 1685 PETER AND WENDY THE WORKS OF J. M. BARRIE NOVELS, STORIES. PLAYS, AND SKETCHES Uniform Edition AULD LIGHT IDYLLS, BETTER DEAD ■ WHEN A MAN'S SINGLE A WINDOW IN THRUMS, AN EDINBURGH ELEVEN THE LITTLE MINISTER • SENTIMENTAL TOMMY MY LADY NICOTINE, MARGARET OGILVY TOMMY AND GRIZEL • THE LITTLE WHITE BIRD PETER AND WENDY Alio HALF HOURS • DER TAG • ECHOES OF THE WAR PLAYS Uniform Edition PETER PAN • MARY ROSE • DEAR BRUTUS A KISS FOR CINDERELLA • ALICE SIT-BY-THE-FIRE WHAT EVERY WOMAN KNOWS ■ QUALITY STREET THE ADMIRABLE CRICHTON SHALL WE JOIN THE LADIES? and other one-act plays . ECHOES OF THE WAR. Containing: The Old Lady Shows Her Medals • The New Word • Barbara's Wedding • A Well-Rcmembercd Voice HALF HOURS. Containing: Pantaloon • The Twelve-Pound Look Rosalind • The Will PLAYS IN ONE VOLUME Individual Edition/ Farewell Miss Julie Logan • The Entrancing Life • Courage • Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, Illustrated by Arthur Raclcham ■ Peter and Wendy, Illustrated by F. D. Bedford • Peter Pan and Wendy, Illustrated by Miss Attwell • Tommy and Grizel, Illustrated by Bernard Partridge Margaret Ogilvy NEW YORK : CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hi! http://www.archive.org/details/peterwendyObarr tLUu^'^- tJ[.± O I "7 o31 r? Copyright, 19H, by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS Printed in the United States of America J CONTENTS >AGS CHAPTER I 'n^ PETER BREAKS THROUGH ( • • CHAPTER II THE SHADOW ....<«. I? CHAPTER III COME AWAY, COME AWAy! . . „ • •34 CHAPTER IV THE FLIGHT ....... §8 CHAPTER V THE ISLAND COME TRUE . ^ . • • )'$ vf PETER AND WENDY PAGE CHAPTER VI THE LITTLE HOUSE ...... 94 CHAPTER VII THE HOME UNDER THE GROUND . . . .110 CHAPTER Vin THE mermaids' LAGOON ..... 122 CHAPTER IX THJE NEVER BIRD ....•• Z44 CHAPTER X THE HAPPY HOME . . . . . . 15c CHAPTER XI Wendy's story ...... 162 CHAPTER XII THE CHILDREN ARE CARRIED OFF . . • .176 CONTENTS vii PAGE CHAPTER XIII DO YOU BELIEVE IN FAIRIES? . • . ,185 CHAPTER XIV THE PIRATE SHIP ...... 20I CHAPTER XV "hook OR ME THIS time" ..... 214 CHAPTER XVI THE RETURN HOME ...... 232 CHAPTER XVn YHEN WENDY GREW UP . • • • . 24S ILLUSTRATIONS FROM DRAWINGS BY F. D. BEDEORD PETER FLEW IN .... . PICTORIAL TITLE-PAGE THE BfRDS WERE FLOWN . . . , "let niM KEEP WHO CAN" . . . . THE NEVER NEVER LAND . , , , PETER ON GUARD , « « , , SUMMER DAYS ON THE LAGOON "to die WILL BE AN AWFULLY BIG ADVENTURE'' Wendy's story . . » . flung like bales . , - . "hook or ME THIS TIME" , **THIS MAN IS mine" . c a PETER AND JANE o . , - Frontispiece FACING PAGE . 56 62 66 108 122 142 162 186 216 226 264 CHAPTER I PETER BREAKS THROUGH J^LL children, except one, grow up. They /-% soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, **Oh, why can't you remain like this for ever!" This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end. Of course they lived at 14, and until Wendy came her mother was the chief one. She was a lovely lady, with a romantic mind and such a 1 2 PETER AND WENDY sweet mocking mouth. Her romantic mind was like the tiny boxes, one within the other, that come from the puzzHng East, however many you discover there is always one more; and her sweet mocking mouth had one kiss on it that Wendy could never get, though there it was, perfectly conspicuous in the right-hand corner. The way Mr. Darling won her was this: the many gentlemen who had been boys when she was a girl discovered simultaneously that they loved her, and they all ran to her house to propose to her except Mr. Darling, who took a cab and nipped in first, and so he got her. He got all of her, except the innermost box and the kiss. He never knew about the box, and in time he gave up trying for the kiss. Wendy thought Napoleon could have got it, but I can picture him trying, and then going off in a passion, slamming the door. Mr. Darling used to boast to Wendy that her mother not only loved him but respected him. He was one of those deep ones who know about stocks and shares. Of course no one really knows, but he quite seemed to know, and he often said stocks were up and shares PETER BREAKS THROUGH 3 were down in a way that would have made any woman respect him. Mrs. Darling was married in white, and at first she kept the books perfectly, almost glee- fully, as if it were a game, not so much as a Brussels sprout was missing; but by and by whole cauliflowers dropped out, and instead of them there were pictures of babies without faces. She drew them when she should have been tot- ting up. They were Mrs. Darling's guesses. Wendy came first, then John, then Michael. For a week or two after Wendy came it was doubtful whether they would be able to keep her, as she was another mouth to feed. Mr. Darling was frightfully proud of her, but he was very honourable, and he sat on the edge of Mrs. Darling's bed, holding her hand and calculating expenses, while she looked at him imploringly. She wanted to risk it, come what might, but that was not his way; his way was with a pencil and a piece of paper, and if she confused him with suggestions he had to begin at the beginning again. '*Now don't interrupt," he would beg of her. **I have one pound seventeen here, and two 4 PETER AND WENDY and six at the office; I can cut off my coffee at the office, say ten shillings, making two nine and six, with your eighteen and three makes three nine seven, with five naught naught in my cheque-book makes eight nine seven, — who is that moving? — eight nine seven, dot and carry seven — don't speak, my own — and the pound you lent to that man who came to the door — quiet, child — dot and carry child — there, you 've done it! — did I say nine nine seven ? yes, I said nine nine seven ; the question is, can we try it for a year on nine nine seven ?" "Of course we can, George," she cried. But she was prejudiced in Wendy's favour, and he was really the grander character of the two. "Remember mumps," he warned her almost threateningly, and off he went again. *' Mumps one pound, that is what I have put down, but I daresay it will be more like thirty shillings — don't speak — measles one five, Ger- man measles half a guinea, makes two fifteen six — don't waggle your finger — whooping-cough, say fifteen shillings" — and so on it went, and it added up differently each time, but at last Wendy just got through, with mumps reduced PETER BREAKS THROUGH 5 to twelve six, and the two kinds of measles treated as one. There was the same excitement over John, and Michael had even a narrower squeak; but both were kept, and soon, you might have seen the three of them going in a row to Miss Ful- som's Kindergarten school, accompanied by their nurse. Mrs. Darling loved to have everything just so, and Mr. Darling had a passion for being exactly like his neighbours; so, of course, they had a nurse. As they were poor, owing to the amount of milk the children drank, this nurse was a prim Newfoundland dog, called Nana, who had be- longed to no one in particular until the Darlings engaged her. She had always thought chil- dren important, however, and the Darlings had become acquainted with her in Kensington Gardens, where she spent most of her spare time peeping into perambulators, and was much hated by careless nursemaids, whom she followed to their homes and complained of to their mis- tresses. She proved to be quite a treasure of a nurse. How thorough she was at bath-time, and up at any moment of the night if one of her 6 PETER AND WENDY charges made the slightest cry. Of course her kennel was in the nursery. She had a genius for knowing when a cough is a thing to have no patience with and when it needs stocking round your throat. She believed to her last day in old- fashioned remedies like rhubarb leaf, and made sounds of contempt over all this new-fangled talk about germs, and so on. It was a lesson in propriety to see her escorting the children to school, walking sedately by their side when they were well behaved, and butting them back into line if they strayed. On John's footer days she never once forgot his sweater, and she usually carried an umbrella in her mouth in case of rain. There is a room in the basement of Miss Ful- som's school where the nurses wait. They sat on forms, while Nana lay on the floor, but that was the only difference. They affected to ignore her as of an inferior social status to themselves, and she despised their light talk. She resented visits to the nursery from Mrs. Darling's friends, but if they did come she first whipped off Michael^s pinafore and put him into the one with blue braiding, and smoothed out Wendy and made a dash at John's hair. PETER BREAKS THROUGH 7 No nursery could possibly have been con- ducted more correctly, and Mr. Darling knew it, yet he sometimes wondered uneasily whether the neighbours talked. He had his position in the city to consider. Nana also troubled him in another way. He had sometimes a feeling that she did not admire him. 'T know she admires you tremendously, George," Mrs. Darling would assure him, and then she would sign to the children to be specially nice to father. Lovely dances followed, in which the only other servant, Liza, was some- times allowed to join. Such a midget she looked in her long skirt and maid's cap, though she had sworn, when engaged, that she would never see ten again. The gaiety of those romps! And gayest of all was Mrs. Darling, who would pirouette so wildly that all you could see of her was the kiss, and then if you had dashed at her you might have got it. There never was a simpler happier family until the coming of Peter Pan. Mrs. Darling first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children's minds. It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her 8 PETER AND WENDY children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning, re- packing into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day. If you could keep awake (but of course you can't) you would see your own mother doing this, and you would find it very interesting to watch her. It is quite like tidying up drawers. You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some of your con- tents, wondering where on earth you had picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek as if it were as nice as a kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning, the naughtinesses and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind, and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out your prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on. I don't know whether you have ever seen a map of a person's mind. Doctors sometimes draw maps of other parts of you, and your own map can become intensely interesting, but catch them trying to draw a map of a child's mind, PETER BREAKS THROUGH 9 which is not only confused, but keeps going round all the time. There are zigzag lines on it, just like your temperature on a card, and these are probably roads in the island, for the Neverland is always more or less an island, with astonishing splashes of colour here and there, and coral reefs and rakish-looking craft in the offing, and savages and lonely lairs, and gnomes who are mostly tailors, and caves through which a river runs, and princes with six elder brothers, and a hut fast going to decay, and one very small old lady with a hooked nose. It would be an easy map if that were all, but there is also first day at school, religion, fathers, the round pond, needle-work, murders, hangings, verbs that take the dative, chocolate pudding day, getting into braces, say ninety-nine, three- pence for pulling out your tooth yourself, and so on, and either these are part of the island or they are another map showing through, and it is all rather confusing, especially as nothing will stand still. Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John's, for instance, had a lagoon with flamin- goes flying over it at which John was shooting. 10 PETER AND WENDY while Michael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat turned upside down on the sands, Michael in a wigwam, Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had no friends, Michael had friends at night, Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken by its parents, but on the whole the Neverlands have a family resemblance, and if they stood still in a row you could say of them that they have each other's nose, and so forth. On these magic shores children at play are for ever beaching their coracles. We too have been there; we can still hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more. Of all delectable islands the Neverland is the snuggest and most compact, not large and sprawly, you know, with tedious distances be- tween one adventure and another, but nicely crammed. When you play at it by day with the chairs and table-cloth, it is not in the least alarming, but in the two minutes before you go to sleep it becomes very nearly real. That is why there are night-lights. Occasionally in her travels through her chil- PETER BREAKS THROUGH 11 dren's minds Mrs. Darling found things she could not understand, and of these quite the most perplexing was the word Peter. She knew of no Peter, and yet he was here and there in John and Michael's minds, while Wendy's began to be scrawled all over with him. The name stood out In bolder letters' than any of the other words, and as IMrs. Darling gazed she felt that it had an oddly cocky appearance. *'Yes, he is rather cocky," Wendy admitted with regret. Her mother had been questioning her. "But who is he, my pet?" "He is Peter Pan, you know, mother." At first Mrs. Darling did not know, but after thinking back into her childhood she just re- membered a Peter Pan who was said to live with the fairies. There were odd stories about him, as that when children died he went part of the way with them, so that they should not be frightened. She had believed in him at the time, but now that she was married and full of sense she quite doubted whether there was any such person. 12 PETER AND WENDY *'Besides," she said to Wendy, *'he would be grown up by this time." "Oh no, he isn't grown up," Wendy assured her confidently, "and he is just my size." She meant that he was her size in both mind and body; she didn't know how she knew it, she just knew it. Mrs. Darling consulted Mr. Darling, but he smiled pooh-pooh. "Mark my words," he said, *'it is some nonsense Nana has been putting into their heads; just the sort of idea a dog would have. Leave it alone, and it will blow over." But it would not blow over, and soon the troublesome boy gave Mrs. Darling quite a shock. Children have the strangest adventures with- out being troubled by them. For instance, they may remember to mention, a week after the event happened, that when they were in the wood they met their dead father and had a game with him. It was in this casual way that Wendy one morning made a disquieting revelation. Some leaves of a tree had been found on the nursery floor, which certainly PETER BREAKS THROUGH 13 were not there when the children went to bed, and Mrs. Darhng was puzzKng over them when Wendy said with a tolerant smile: "I do beheve it is that Peter again!" '* Whatever do you mean, Wendy?" "It is so naughty of him not to wipe," Wendy said, sighing. She was a tidy child. She explained in quite a matter-of-fact way that she thought Peter sometimes came to the nursery in the night and sat on the foot of her bed and played on his pipes to her. Unfortu- nately she never woke, so she didn't know how she knew, she just knew. "What nonsense you talk, precious! No one can get into the house without knocking." *'I think he comes in by the window," she said. *'My love, it is three floors up." " Weren't the leaves at the foot of the window, mother ? " It was quite true; the leaves had been found very near the window. Mrs. Darling did not know what to think, for it all seemed so natural to Wendy that you could not dismiss it by saying she had been dreaming. 14 PETER AND WENDY *'My child," the mother cried, "why did you not tell me of this before ? " "I forgot," said Wendy lightly. She was in a hurry to get her breakfast. Oh, surely she must have been dreaming. But, on the other hand, there were the leaves. Mrs. Darling examined them carefully; they were skeleton leaves, but she was sure they did not come from any tree that grew in England. She crawled about the floor, peering at it with a candle for marks of a strange foot. She rattled the poker up the chimney and tapped the walls. She let down a tape from the window to the pavement, and it was a sheer drop of thirty feet, without so much as a spout to climb up by. Certainly Wendy had been dreaming. But Wendy had not been dreaming, as the very next night showed, the night on which the extraordinary adventures of these children may be said to have begun. On the night we speak of all the children were once more in bed. It happened to be Nana's evening off, and Mrs. Darling had bathed them and sung to them till one by one PETER BREAKS THROUGH 15 they had let go her hand and sHd away into the land of sleep. All were looking so safe and cosy that she smiled at her fears now and sat down tranquilly by the fire to sew. It was something for Michael, who on his birthday was getting into shirts. The fire was warm, however, and the nursery dimly lit by three night-lights, and presently the sewing lay on Mrs. Darling's lap. Then her head nodded, oh, so gracefully. She was asleep. Look at the four of them, Wendy and Michael over there, John here, and Mrs. Darling by the fire. There should have been a fourth night- light. While she slept she had a dream. She dreamt that the Neverland had come too near and that a strange boy had broken through from it. He did not alarm her, for she thought she had seen him before in the faces of many women who have no children. Perhaps he is to be found in the faces of some mothers also. But in her dream he had rent the film that obscures the Neverland, and she saw Wendy and John and Michael peeping through the gap. 16 PETER AND WENDY The dream by itself would have been a trifle, but while she was dreaming the window of the nursery blew open, and a boy did drop on the floor. He was accompanied by a strange light, no bigger than your fist, which darted about the room like a living thing, and I think it must have been this light that wakened Mrs. Darling. She started up with a cry, and saw the boy, and somehow she knew at once that he was Peter Pan. If you or I or Wendy had been there we should have seen that he was very like Mrs. Darling's kiss. He was a lovely boy, clad in skeleton leaves and the juices that ooze out of trees, but the most entrancing thing about him was that he had all his first teeth. When he saw she was a grown-up, he gnashed the little pearls at her. CHAPTER II THE SHADOW MRS. DARLING screamed, and, as if in answer to a bell, the door opened, and Nana entered, returned from her evening out. She growled and sprang at the boy, who leapt lightly through the window. Again Mrs. Darling screamed, this time in distress for him, for she thought he was killed, and she ran down into the street to look for his little body, but it was not there; and she looked up, and in the black night she could see nothing but what she thought was a shooting star. She returned to the nursery, and found Nana with something in her mouth, which proved to be the boy's shadow. As he leapt at the window Nana had closed it quickly, too late to catch him, but his shadow had not had time 1.7 18 PETER AND WENDY to get out; slam went the window and snapped it off. You may be sure Mrs. Darling examined the shadow carefully, but it was quite the ordinary kind. Nana had no doubt of what was the best thing to do with this shadow. She hung it out at the window, meaning *'He is sure to come back for it; let us put it where he can get it easily without disturbing the children." But unfortunately Mrs. Darling could not leave it hanging out at the window, it looked so like the washing and lowered the whole tone of the house. She thought of showing it to Mr. Darling, but he was totting up winter great-coats for John and Michael, with a wet towel round his head to keep his brain clear, and it seemed a shame to trouble him; besides, she knew exactly what he would say: "It all comes of having a dog for a nurse." She decided to roll the shadow up and put it away carefully in a drawer, until a fitting opportunity came for telling her husband. Ah me! The opportunity came a week later, on that THE SHADOW 19 never-to-be-forgotten Friday. Of course it was a Friday. "I ought to have been specially careful on a Friday," she used to say afterwards to her husband, while perhaps Nana was on the other side of her, holding her hand. "No, no," Mr. Darling always said, "I am responsible for it all. I, George Darling, did it. Mea culpa, mea culpa.' ^ He had had a classical education. They sat thus night after night recalling that fatal Friday, till every detail of it was stamped on their brains and came through on the other side like the faces on a bad coinage. "If only I had not accepted that invitation to dine at 27," Mrs. Darling said. "If only I had not poured my medicine into Nana's bowl," said Mr. Darling. "If only I had pretended to like the medicine," was what Nana's wet eyes said. "My liking for parties, George." " My fatal gift of humour, dearest." " My touchiness about trifles, dear master and mistress." Then one or more of them would break down 20 PETER AND WENDY altogether:^ Nana at tlie thought, "It 's true, it 's true, they ought not to have had a dog for a nurse." Many a time it was Mr. Darling who put the handkerchief to Nana's eyes. "That fiend!" Mr. Darhng would cry, and Nana's bark was the echo of it, but Mrs. Darling never upbraided Peter; there was something in the right-hand comer of her mouth that wanted her not to call Peter names. Tliey would sit there in the empty nursery, recalling fondly every smallest detail of that dreadful evening. It had begun so uneventfully, so precisely like a hundred other evenings, with Nana putting on the water for Michael's bath and carrying him to it on her back. "I won't go to bed," he had shouted, like one who still believed that he had the last word on the subject, *'I won't, I won't. Nana, it isn't six o'clock yet. Oh dear, oh dear, I shan't love you any more. Nana. I tell you I won't be bathed, I won't, I won't!" Then Mrs. Darling had come in, wearing her white evening-gown. She had dressed early because Wendy so loved to see her in her even- ing-gown, with the necklace George had given THE SHADOW 21 her. She was wearing Wendy's bracelet on her arm; she had asked for the loan of it. Wendy so loTed to lend her bracelet to her mother. She had found her two older children playing at being herself and father on the occasion of Wendy's bhth, and John was saying: *'I am happy to inform you, Mrs. Darling, that you are now a mother," in just such a tone as Mr. Darling himself may have used on the real occasion. Wendy had danced with joy, just as the real Mrs. Darling must have done. Then John was born, with the extra pomp that he conceived due to the birth of a male, and Michael came from his bath to ask to be born also, but John said brutally that they did not want any more. Michael had nearly cried. "Nobody wants me," he said, and of course the lady in evening- dress could not stand that. *T do," she said, *T so want a third child." "Boy or girl'^" asked Michael, not too hope- fully." "Boy." Then he had leapt into her arms. Such a 22 PETER AND WENDY / little thing for Mr. and Mrs. Darling and Nana to recall now, but not so little if that was to be Michael's last night in the nursery. j They go on with their recollections. *'It was then that I rushed in like a tornado, wasn't it.^" Mr. Darling would say, scorning himself; and indeed he had been like a tornado. Perhaps there was some excuse for him. He, too, had been dressing for the party, and all had gone well with him until he came to his tie. It is an astounding thing to have to tell, but this man, though he knew about stocks and shares, had no real mastery of his tie. Some- times the thing yielded to him without a contest, but there were occasions when it would have been better for the house if he had swallowed his pride and used a made-up tie. This was such an occasion. He came rushing into the nursery with the crumpled little brute of a tie in his hand. "Wliy, what is the matter, father dear.^" '' Matter! " he yelled ; he really yelled. " This tie, it will not tie." He became dangerously sarcastic. "Not round my neck! Round the bed-post! Oh yes, twenty times have I THE SHADOW 23 made it up round the bed-post, but round my neck, no! Oh dear no! begs to be excused!" He thought Mrs. Darhng was not sufficiently impressed, and he went on sternly, "I warn you of this, mother, that unless this tie is round my neck we don't go out to dinner to-night, and if I don't go out to dinner to-night, I never go to the office again, and if I don't go to the office again, you and I starve, and our children will be flung into the streets." Even then Mrs. Darling was placid. "Let me try, dear," she said, and indeed that was what he had come to ask her to do, and with her nice cool hands she tied his tie for him, while the children stood around to see their fate decided. Some men would have resented her being able to do it so easily, but Mr. Darling was far too fine a nature for that; he thanked her carelessly, at once forgot his rage, and in another moment was dancing round the room with Michael on his back. "How wildly we romped!" says Mrs. Darling now, recalling it. "Our last romp!" Mr. Darling groaned. "O George, do you remember Michael M PETER AND WENDY suddenly said to me, ' How did you get to know me, mother?"* *'I remember!" "They were rather sweet, don't you think, George?" "And they were ours, ours! and now they are gone." The romp had ended with the appearance of Nana, and most unluckily Mr. Darling collided against her, covering his trousers with hairs. They were not only new trousers, but they were the first he had ever had with braid on them, and he had to bite his lip to prevent the tears coming. Of course Mrs, Darling brushed him, but he began to talk again about its being a mistake to have a dog for a nurse. "Geor,sre, Nana is a treasure." '*No doubt, but I have an uneasy feeling at times that she looks upon the children as puppies." "Oh no, dear one, I feel sure she knows they have souls." "I wonder," Mr. Darling said thoughtfully, *'I wonder." It was an opportunity, his wife felt, for telling him about the boy. At first he THE SHADOW 25 pooh-poohed the story, but he became thought- ful when she showed him the shadow. "It is nobody I know," he said, examining it carefully, "but he does look a scoundrel." "We were still discussing it, you remember," says Mr. Darling, "when Nana came in with Michael's medicine. You will never carry the bottle in your mouth again. Nana, and it is all my fault." Strong man though he was, there is no doubt that he had behaved rather foolishly over the medicine. If he had a weakness, it was for thinking that all his life he had taken medicine boldly, and so now, when Michael dodged the spoon in Nana's mouth, he had said reprovingly, "Be a man, Michael." "Won't; won't!" Michael cried naughtily. Mrs. Darling left the room to get a chocolate for him, and Mr. Darling thought this showed want of firmness. "Mother, don't pamper him," he called after her. "Michael, when I was your age I took medicine without a murmur. I said 'Thank you, kind parents, for giving me bottles to make me well."* 26 PETER AND WENDY He really thought this was true, and Wendy, who was now In her night-gown, believed it also, and she said, to encourage Michael, "That medicine you sometimes take, father, is much nastier, isn't It?" "Ever so much nastier," Mr. Darling said bravely, "and I would take It now as an example to you, Michael, if I hadn't lost the bottle." He had not exactly lost it; he had climbed In the dead of night to the top of the wardrobe and hidden It there. What he did not know was that the faithful Liza had found it, and put it back on his wash-stand. "I know where it is, father," Wendy cried, always glad to be of service. "I '11 bring it," and she was off before he could stop her. Immedi- ately his spirits sank in the strangest way. " John," he said, shuddering, "it 's most beastly stuff. It 's that nasty, sticky, sweet kind." "It will soon be over, father," John said cheerily, and then in rushed Wendy with the medicine In a glass. "I have been as quick as I could," she panted. "You have been wonderfully quick," her THE SHADOW %1 father retorted, with a vindictive politeness that was quite thrown away upon her. *' Michael first," he said doggedly. ** Father first," said Michael, who was of a suspicious nature. *'I shall be sick, you know," Mr. Darling said threateningly. "Come on, father," said John. "Hold your tongue, John," his father rapped out. Wendy was quite puzzled. "I thought you took it quite easily, father." "That is not the point," he retorted. "The point is, that there is more in my glass than in Michael's spoon." His proud heart was nearly bursting. "And it isn't fair; I would say it though it were with my last breath; it isn't fair." "Father, I am waiting," said Michael coldly. "It 's all very well to say you are waiting; so am I waiting." " Father 's a cowardy custard." "So are you a cowardy custard." "I 'm not frightened." "Neither am I frightened." 28 PETEE AND WENDY "Well, then, take iV "Well, then, you take it/' Wendy had a splendid idea. ''Why not both take it at the same time?" "Certainl}^" said Mr. Darling. "x\re you ready, Michael?" Wendy gave the words, one, two, three, and Michael took his medicine, but Mr. Darling slipped his behind his back. There was a yell of rage from Michael, and "O father!" Wendy exclaimed. "Wliat do you mean by 'O father'?" Mr. Darling demanded. *'Stop that row, Michael. I meant to take mine, but I — I missed it." It was dreadful the way all the three were looking at him, just as if they did not admire him. "Look here, all of you," he said entreat- ingly, as soon as Nana had gone into the bath- room, "I have just thought of a splendid joke. T shall pour my medicine into Nana's bowl, and she will drink it, thinking it is milk ! " It was the colour of milk; but the children In person he was cadaverous and blackavized>/ -and' his hair was dressed in long curls, which at a little distance looked like black candles, and gave a singularly threatening expression to his handsome countenance. His eyes were of tlie blue of the forget-me-not, and of a profound melancholy, save when he was plunging his hook into you, at which time two red spots appeared in them and lit them up horribly./ In manner, something of the grand seigneur still clung to him, so that he even ripped you up with an air, and I have been told that he was a raconteur of repute, /H.e was never more sinister than when he was most polite, which is probably the truest test of breeding; and the elegance of his dictioUj THE ISLAND COME TRUE 81 even when he was swearing, no less than the distinction of his demeanour, showed him one of a different caste from his crew. A man of indomitable courage, it was said of him that the only thing he shied at was the sight of his own blood, which was thick and of an unusual colour. In dress he somewhat aped the attire associated with the name of Charles ii., having heard it said in some earlier period of his career that he bore a strange resemblpuce to the ill-fated Stuarts; and in his mouth he had a holder of his own contrivance which enabled him to smoke two cigars at once. But undoubtedly the grim- mest part of him was his iron clawj Let us now kill a pirate, to show Hook's method. Skylights will do. As they pass, Skylights lurches clumsily against him, ruffling his lace collar; the hook shoots forth, there is a tearing sound and one screech, then the body is kicked aside, and the pirates pass on. He has not even taken the cigars from his mouth. Such is the terrible man against whom Peter Pan is pitted. Which will win ? On the trail of the pirates, stealing noiselessly down the war-path, which is not visible to inex= 82 PETER AND WENDY perienced eyes, come the redskins, every one of them with his eyes peeled. They cany toma- hawks and knives, and their naked bodies gleam with paint and oil. Strung around them are scalps, of boys as well as of pirates, for these are the Piccaninny tribe, and not to be con- fused with the softer-hearted Delawares or the Hurons. In the van, on all fours, is Great Big Little Panther, a brave of so many scalps that in his present position they somewhat impede his progress. Bringing up the rear, the place of greatest danger, comes Tiger Lily, proudly erect, a princess in her own right. /She is the most beautiful of dusky Dianas and the belle of the Piccaninnies, coquettish, cold and amorous by turns; there is not a brave who would not have the wayward thing to wife, but she staves off the altar with a hatchet./ Observe how they pass over fallen twigs without making the slightest noise. The only sound to be heard is their somewhat heavy breathing. The fact is that they are all a little fat just now after the heavy gorging, but in time they will work this off. For the moment, however, it con- stitutes their chief danger. THE ISLAND COME TRUE 83 The redskins disappear as they have come like shadows, and soon their place is taken by the beasts, a great and motley procession : lionS; tigers, bears, and the innumerable smaller savage things that flee from them, for every kind of beast, and, more particularly, all the man-eaters, live cheek by jowl on the favoured island. Their tongues are hanging out, they are hungry to-night. When they have passed, comes the last figure of all, a gigantic crocodile. We shall see for whom she is looking presently. The crocodile passes, but soon the boys appear again, for the procession must continue indefi- nitely until one of the parties stops or changes its pace. Then quickly they will be on top of each other. All are keeping a sharp look-out in front, but none suspects that the danger may be creeping up from behind. This shows how real the island was. The first to fall out of the moving circle was the boys. They flung themselves down on the sward, close to their underground home. *'I do wish Peter would come back," every one 84 PETER AND WENDY of them said nervously, though in height and still more in breadth they were all larger than their captain. *'I am the only one who is not afraid of the pirates," Slightly said, in the tone that prevented his being a general favourite, but perhaps some distant sound disturbed him, for he added hastily, *'but I wish he would come back, and tell us whether he has heard anything more about Cinderella." They talked of Cinderella, and Tootles was confident that his mother must have been very like her. It was only in Peter's absence that they could speak of mothers, the subject being forbidden by him as silly. "All I remember about my mother," Nibs told them, *'is that she often said to father, *Oh, how I wish I had a cheque-book of my own!' I don't know what a cheque-book is, but I should just love to give my mother one." While they talked they heard a distant sound. You or I, not being wild things of the woods, would have heard nothing, but they heard it, and it was the grim song: THE ISLAND COME TRUE 85 "Yo ho, yo ho, the pirate life. The flag o' akull and bones, A merry hour, a hempen rope. And hey for Davy Jones." At once the lost boys — but where are they? They are no longer there. Rabbits could not have disappeared more quickly. I will tell you where they are. With the exception of Nibs, who has darted away to reconnoitre, they ai'e already in their home under the ground, a very delightful residence of which we shall see a good deal presently. But how have they reached it.^ for there is no enti'ance to be seen, not so much as a large stone, which if rolled away would disclose the mouth of a cave. Look closely, however, and you may note tliat there are here seven large trees, each with a hole in its hollow trunk as large as a boy. These are the seven entrances to the home under the ground, for which Hook has been searching in vain these many moons. Will he find it to-night ? As the pirates advanced, the quick eye of Starkey sighted Nibs disappearing through the wood, and at once his pistol flashed out. But an iron claw gripped his shoulder'- 86 PETER AND WENDY *' Captain, let go!" he cried, writhing. Now for the first time we hear the voice of Hook. It was a black voice. *'Put back that pistol first," it said threateningly. "It was one of those boys you hate. I could have shot him dead." "Ay, and the sound would have brought Tiger Lily's redskins upon us. Do you want to lose your scalp ? " "Shall I after him, captain," asked pathetic Smee, "and tickle him with Johnny Cork- screw ? " Smee had pleasant names for every- thing, and his cutlass was Johnny Corkscrew, because he wriggled it in the wound. One could mention many lovable traits in Smee. For instance, after killing, it was his spectacles he wiped instead of his weapon. " Johnny's a silent fellow," he reminded Hook. "Not now, Smee," Hook said darkly. "He is only one, and I want to mischief all the seven. Scatter and look for them." The pirates disappeared among the trees, and in a moment their captain and Smee were alone. Hook heaved a heavy sigh, and I know not why it was, perhaps it was because of the soft THE ISLAND COME TRUE 87 beauty of the evening, but there came over him a desire to confide to his faithful bo'sun the story of his hfe. He spoke long and earnestly, but what it was all about Smee, who was rather stupid, did not know in the least. Anon he caught the word Peter. "Most of all," Hook was saying passionately, "I want their captain, Peter Pan. 'Twas he cut off my arm." He brandished the hook threateningly. "I've waited long to shake his hand with this. Oh, I'll tear him!" "And yet," said Smee, "I have often heard you say that hook was worth a score of hands, for combing the hair and other homely uses." "Ay," the captain answered, "if I was a mother I would pray to have my children born with this instead of that," and he cast a look of pride upon his iron hand and one of scorn upon the other. Then again he frowned. "Peter flung my arm," he said, wincing, "to a crocodile that happened to be passing by." "I have often," said Smee, "noticed your strange dread of crocodiles." " Not of crocodiles," Hook corrected him, " but of that one crocodile." He lowered his voice. 88 PETER AND WENDY "It liked my arm so much, Smee, that it has followed me ever since, from sea to sea and from land to land, licking its lips for the rest of me." "In a way," said Smee, "it's a sort of com- pliment." "I want no such compliments," Hook barked petulantly. "I want Peter Pan, who first gave the brute its taste for me." He sat down on a large mushroom, and now there was a quiver in his voice. "Smee," he said huskily, " that crocodile would have had me before this, but by a luclcy chance it swallowed a clock which goes tick tick inside it, and so before it can reach me I hear the tick and bolt." He laughed, but in a hollow way. "Some day," said Smee, "the clock will run down, and then he '11 get you." Hook wetted his dry lips. "Ay," he said, " that's the fear that haunts me." Since sitting down he had felt curiously warm. " Smee," he said, " this seat is hot." He jumped up. "Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, I'm burning." They examined the mushroom, which was of a size and solidity unknown on the mainland; THE ISLAND COME TRUE 89 they tried to pull it up, and it came away at once in their hands, for it had no root. Stranger still, smoke began at once to ascend. The pirates looked at each other. "A chimney!" they both exclaimed. They had indeed discovered the chimney of the home under the ground. It was the custom of the boys to stop it with a mush- room when enemies were in the neighbour- hood. Not only smoke came out of it. There came also children's voices, for so safe did the boys feel in their hiding-place that they were gaily chattering. The pirates listened grimly, and then replaced the mushroom. They looked around them and noted the holes in the seven trees. "Did you hear them say Peter Pan *s from home?" Smee whispered, fidgeting with Johnny Corkscrew. Hook nodded. He stood for a long time lost in thought, and at last a curdling smile lit up hii swarthy face. Smee had been waiting for it. "Unrip your plan, captain," he cried eagerly. 00 PETER AND WENDY "To return to the ship," Hook replied slowly through his teeth, "and cook a large rich cake of a jolly thickness with green sugar on it. There can be but one room below, for there is but one chimney. The silly moles had not the sense to see that they did not need a door apiece. That shows they have no mother. We will leave the cake on the shore of the mermaids' lagoon. These boys are always swimming about there, playing with the mermaids. They will find the cake and they will gobble it up, because, having no mother, they don't know how dangerous 'tis to eat rich damp cake." He burst into laughter, not hollow laughter now, but honest laughter. "Aha, they will die!" Smee had listened with growing admiration. "It's the wickedest, prettiest policy ever I heard of!" he cried, and in their exultation they danced and sang: "Avast, belay, when I appear. By fear they're overtook; Nought 's left upon your bones v^hen you Have shaken claws with Cook." They began the verse, but they never finished THE ISLAND COME TRUE 91 it, for another sound broke in and stilled them. It was at first such a tiny sound that a leaf might have fallen on it and smothered it, but as it came nearer it was more distinct. Tick tick tick tick! Hook stood shuddering, one foot in the air„ "The crocodile!" he gasped, and bounded away, followed by his bo' sun. It was indeed the crocodile. It had passed the redskins, who were now on the trail of the other pirates. It oozed on after Hook. Once more the boys emerged into the open; but the dangers of the night were not yet over, for presently Nibs rushed breathless into their midst, pursued by a pack of wolves. The tongues of the pursuers were hanging out; the baying of them was horrible. "Save me, save me!" cried Nibs, falling on the ground. "But what can we do, what can we do .^" It was a high compliment to Peter that at that dire moment their thoughts turned to him. "What would Peter do.^" they cried simul- taneously. n PETER AND WENDY Almost in the same breath they cried, "Peter would look at them through his legs." And then, "Let us do what Peter would do." It is quite the most successful way of defying wolves, and as one boy they bent and looked through their legs. The next moment is the long one, but victory came quickly, for as the boys advanced upon them in this terrible atti- tude, the wolves dropped their tails and fled. Now Nibs rose from the ground, and the others thought that his staring eyes still saw the wolves. But it was not wolves he saw. "I have seen a wonderfuller thing," he cried, as they gathered round him eagerly. "A great white bird. It is flying this way." "What kind of a bird, do you think .^" "I don't know," Nibs said, awestruck, "but it looks so weary, and as it flies it moans, 'Poor Wendy.' " "Poor Wendy?" "I remember," said Slightly instantly, "there are birds called Wendies." "See, it comes!" cried Curly, pointing to Wendy in the heavens. THE ISLAND COME TRUE 93 Wendjr was now almost overhead, and they could hear her plaintive cry. But more dis- tinct came the shrill voice of Tinker Bell. The jealous fairy had now cast off all disguise of friendship, and was darting at her victim from every direction, pinching savagely each time she touched. "Hullo, Tink," cried the wondering boys. Tink's reply rang out: "Peter wants you to shoot the Wendy." It was not in their nature to question when Peter ordered. "Let us do what Peter wishes," cried the simple boys. "Quick, bows and arrows." All but Tootles popped down their trees. He had a bow and arrow with him, and Tink noted it, and rubbed her little hands. "Quick, Tootles, quick," she screamed. "Peter will be so pleased." Tootles excitedly fitted the arrow to his bow. "Out of the way, Tink," he shouted, and then he fired, and Wendy fluttered to the ground with an arrow in her breast. CHAPTER VI THE LITTLE HOUSE FOOLISH Tootles was standing like a conqueror over Wendy's body when the other boys sprang, armed, from their trees. *' You are too late," he cried proudly, *'I have shot the Wendy. Peter will be so pleased with me." Overhead Tinker Bell shouted "Silly ass!" and darted into hiding. The others did not hear her. They had crowded round Wendy, and as they looked a terrible silence fell upon the wood. If Wendy's heart had been beating they would all have heard it. Slightly was the j&rst to speak. "This is no bird," he said in a scared voice. "I think it must be a lady." "A lady.'^" said Tootles, and fell a-trembling. 94 THE LITTLE HOUSE 95 "And we have killed her," Nibs said hoarsely. They all whipped off their caps. "Now I see," Curly said; "Peter was bringing her to us." He threw himself sorrowfully on the ground. "A lady to take care of us at last," said one of the twins, "and you have killed her!" They were sorry for him, but sorrier for themselves, and when he took a step nearer them they turned from him. Tootles' face was very white, but there was a dignity about him now that had never been there before. "I did it," he said, reflecting. "When ladies used to come to me in dreams, I said, * Pretty mother, pretty mother.' But when at last she really came, I shot her." He moved slowly away. "Don't go," they called in pity. "I must," he answered, shaking; "I am so afraid of Peter." It was at this tragic moment that they heard a sound which made the heart of every one of them rise to his mouth. They heard Peter CTOW. 96 PETER AND WENDY "Peter!" they cried, for it was always thus that he signalled his return. "Hide her," they whispered, and gathered hastily around Wendy. But Tootles stood aloof. Again came that ringing crow, and Peter dropped in front of them. "Greeting, boys," he cried, and mechanically they saluted, and then again was silence. He frowned. "I am back," he said hotly, "why do you not cheer ? " They opened their mouths, but the cheers would not come. He overlooked it in his haste to tell the glorious tidings. " Great news, boys," he cried, "I have brought at last a mother for you all." Still no sound, except a little thud from Tootles as he dropped on his knees. "Have you not seen her?" asked Peter, be- coming troubled. "She flew this way." "Ah me!" one voice said, and another said, "Oh, mournful day." Tootles rose. " Peter," he said quietly, " I will show her to you," and when the others would THE LITTLE HOUSE §7 still have hidden her he said, "Back, twins, let Peter see." So they all stood back, and let him see, and after he had looked for a little time he did not know what to do next. "She is dead," he said uncomfortably. "Per- haps she is frightened at being dead." He tliought of hopping off in a comic sort of way till he was out of sight of her, and then never going near the spot any more. They would all have been glad to follow if he had done this. But there was the arrow. He took it from her heart and faced his band. "Whose arrow .'^" he demanded sternly. "Mine, Peter," said Tootles on his knees. " Oh, dastard hand," Peter said, and he raised the arrow to use it as a dagger. Tootles did not flinch. He bared his breast, "Strike, Peter," he said firmly, "strike true." Twice did Peter raise the arrow, and twice did his hand fall. "I cannot strike," he said with awe, "there is something stays my hand." All looked at him in wonder, save Nibs, who fortunately looked at Wendy. 98 PETER AND WENDY *'It is she," he cried, "the Wendy lady, see, her arm!" Wonderful to relate, Wendy had raised her arm. Nibs bent over her and listened rever- ently. "I think she said 'Poor Tootles,'" he whispered. "She lives," Peter said briefly. Slightly cried instantly, "The Wendy lady lives." Then Peter knelt beside her and found his button. You remember she had put it on a chain that she wore round her neck. "See," he said, "the arrow struck against this. It is the kiss I gave her. It has saved her life." "I remember kisses," Slightly interposed quickly, "let me see it. Ay, that's a kiss." Peter did not hear him. He was begging Wendy to get better quickly, so that he could show her the mermaids. Of course she could not answer yet, being still in a frightful faint; but from overhead came a wailing note. "Listen to Tink," said Curly, "she is crying because the Wendy lives." Then they had to tell Peter of Tink's crime. THE LITTLE HOUSE 99 and almost never had they seen him look so stern. "Listen, Tinker Bell," he cried, "I am your friend no more. Begone from me for ever." She flew on to his shoulder and pleaded, but he brushed her off. Not until Wendy again raised her arm did he relent sufficiently to say, "Well, not for ever, but for a whole week." Do you think Tinker Bell was grateful to Wendy for raising her arm.^ Oh dear no, never wanted to pinch her so much. Fairies indeed are strange, and Peter, who understood them best, often cuffed them. But what to do with Wendy in her present delicate state of health ? "Let us carry her down into the house," Curly suggested. "Ay," said Slightly, "that is what one does with ladies." "No, no," Peter said, "you must not touch her. It would not be sufficiently respectful." "That," said Slightly, "is what I was think- ing-" "But if she lies there," Tootles said, "she wUl die." 100 PETER AND WENDY "Ay, she will die," Slightly admitted, "but there is no way out." "Yes, there is," cried Peter. "Let us build a little house round her." They were all delighted. " Quick," he ordered them, "bring me each of you the best of what we have. Gut our house. Be sharp." In a moment they were as busy as tailors the night before a wedding. They skurried this way and that, down for bedding, up for fire- wood, and while they were at it, who should appear but John and ^lichael. As they dragged along the ground they fell asleep standing, stopped, woke up, moved another step and slept again. "John, John," Michael would cry, "wake up! Where is Nana, John, and mother.'^" And then John would rub his eyes and mutter, "It is true, we did fly." You may be sure they were very relieved to find Peter. "Hullo, Peter," they said. "Hullo," repHed Peter amicably, though he had quite forgotten them. He was very busy at the moment measuring Wendy with THE LITTLE HOUSE 101 his feet to see how large a house she would need. Of course he meant to leave room for chau's and a table. John and Michael watched him. *'Is Wendy asleep?" they asked. "Yes." "John," Michael proposed, "let us wake her and get her to make supper for us," and as he said it some of the other boys rushed on carry- ing branches for the building of the house. "Look at them!" he cried. " Curly," said Peter in his most captainy voice, "see that these boys help in the building of the house." "Ay, ay, sir." "Build a house .^" exclaimed John. "For the Wendy," said Curly. "For Wendy.?" John said, aghast. "Why, she is only a girl!" "That," explained Curly, "is why we are her servants." " You ? Wendy's servants ! " " Yes," said Peter, " and you also. Away with them." The astounded brothers were dragged away 102 PETER AND WENDY to hack and hew and carry. "Chairs and a fender first," Peter ordered. "Then we shall build the house round them." "Ay," said Slightly, "that is how a house is built; it all comes back to me." Peter thought of everything. "Slightly," he cried, "fetch a doctor." "Ay, ay," said Slightly at once, and dis- appeared, scratching his head. But he knew Peter must be obeyed, and he returned in a moment, wearing John's hat and looking solemn. "Please, sir," said Peter, going to him, "are you a doctor ? " The difference between him and the other boys at such a time was that they knew it was make-believe, while to him make-believe and true were exactly the same thing. This sometimes troubled them, as when they had to make- believe that they had had their dinners. If they broke down in their make-believe he rapped them on the knuckles. "Yes, my little man," anxiously replied Slightly, who had chapped knuckles. "Please, sir," Peter explained, " a lady lies very ill." THE LITTLE HOUSE 103 She was lying at their feet, but Slightly had the sense not to see her. "Tut, tut, tut," he said, "where does she lie ?" "In yonder glade." "I will put a glass thing in her mouth," said Slightly, and he made-believe to do it, while Peter waited. It was an anxious moment when the glass thing was withdrawn. "How is she.'^" inquired Peter. "Tut, tut, tut," said Slightly, "this has cured her." "I am glad!" Peter cried. "I will call again in the evening," Slightly said; "give her beef tea out of a cup with a spout to it"; but after he had returned the hat to John he blew big breaths, which was his habit on escaping from a difficulty. In the meantime the wood had been alive with the sound of axes; almost everything needed for a cosy dwelling already lay at Wendy's feet. "If only we knew," said one, "the kind of house she likes best." "Peter," shouted another, "she is moving in her sleep." 104 PETER AND WENDY *'Her mouth opens," cried a third, looking respectfully into it. "Oh, lovely!" "Perhaps she is going to sing in her sleep," said Peter. "Wendy, sing the kind of house you would like to have." Immediately, without opening her eyes, Wendy began to sing: "I wish I had a pretty house. The littlest ever seen. With funny httle red walls And roof of mossy green." They gurgled with joy at this, for by the greatest good luck the branches they had brought were sticky with red sap, and all the ground was carpeted with moss. As they rattled up the little house they broke into song themselves* "We've built the little walls and roof And made a lovely door, ■ So tell us, mother Wendy, What are you wanting more ? " To this she answered rather greedily: "Oh, really next I think I'll have Gay windows all about. With roses peeping in, you know. And babies peeping out." THE LITTLE HOUSE 105 With a blow of their fists they made windows, and large yellow leaves were the blinds. But roses ? "Roses!" cried Peter sternly. Quickly they made-believe to grow the love- liest roses up the walls. Babies ? To prevent Peter ordering babies they hurried into song again: "We've made the rosea peeping out. The babes are at the door, We cannot make ourselves, you know, 'Cos we've been made before." Peter, seeing this to be a good idea, at once pretended that it was his own. The house was quite beautiful, and no doubt Wendy was very cosy within, though, of course, they could no longer see her. Peter strode up and down, ordering finishing touches. Nothing escaped his eagle eye. Just when it seemed absolutely finished, "There's no knocker on the door," he said. They were very ashamed, but Tootles gave the sole of his shoe, and it made an excellent knocker. 106 PETER AND WENDY Absolutely finished now, they thought. Not a bit of it. *' There's no chimney," Peter said; "we must have a chimney." "It certainly does need a chimney," said John importantly. This gave Peter an idea. He snatched the hat off John's head, knocked out the bottom, and put the hat on the roof. The little house was so pleased to have such a capital chimney that, as if to say thank you, smoke immediately began to come out of the hat. Now really and truly it was finished. Nothing remained to do but to knock. "All look your best," Peter warned them; "first impressions are awfully important." He was glad no one asked him what first impressions are; they were all too busy looking their best. He knocked politely, and now the wood was as still as the children, not a sound to be heard except from Tinker Bell, who was watching from a branch and openly sneering. What the boys were wondering was, would any one answer the knock ? If a lady, what would she be like ? THE LITTLE HOUSE 107 The door opened and a lady came out. It was Wendy. They all whipped off their hats. She looked properly surprised, and this was just how they had hoped she would look. " Where am I ? " she said. Of course Slightly was the first to get his word in. "Wendy lady," he said rapidly, "for you we built this house." "Oh, say you're pleased," cried Nibs. "Lovely, darling house," Wendy said, and they were the very words they had hoped she would say. "And we are your children," cried the twins. Then all went on their knees, and holding out their arms cried, "O Wendy lady, be our mother." "Ought I.?" Wendy said, all shining. "Of course it's frightfully fascinating, but you see I am only a little girl. I have no real ex- perience." "That doesn't matter," said Peter, as if he were the only person present who knew all about it, though he was really the one who knew least. "What we need is just a nica motherly person.'* 108 PETER AND WENDY "Oh dear!" Wendy said, "you see I feel that is exactly what I am." "It is, it is," they all cried; "we saw it at once." "Very well," she said, "I will do my best. Come inside at once, you naughty children; I am sure your feet are damp. And before I put you to bed I have just time to finish the story of Cinderella." In they went; I don't know how there was room for them, but you can squeeze very tight in the Neverland. And that was the first of the many joyous evenings they had with Wendy. By and by she tucked them up in the great bed in the home under the trees, but she herself slept that night in the little house, and Peter kept watch outside with drawn sword, for the pirates could be heard carousing far away and the wolves were on the prowl. The little house looked so cosy and safe in the darkness, with a bright light showing through its blinds, and the chimney smoking beautifully, and Peter standing on guard. After a time he fell asleep, and some unsteady fairies had to climb over him on their way home from an THE LITTLE HOUSE 109 orgy. Any of the other boys obstructing the fairy path at night they would have mis- chiefed, but they just tweaked Peter's nose and passed on. CHAPTER VII THE HOME UNDER THE GROUND NE of the first things Peter did next day was to measure Wendy and John and Michael for hollow trees. Hook, you remember, had sneered at the boys for thinking they needed a tree apiece, but this was ignorance, for unless your tree fitted you it was difficult to go up and down, and no two of the boys were quite the same size. Once you fitted, you drew in your breath at the top, and down you went at exactly the right speed, while to ascend you drew in and let out alternately, and so wriggled up. Of course, when you have mastered the action you are able to do these things without thinking of them, and then nothing can be more graceful. But you simply must fit, and Peter measures THE HOME UNDER THE GROUND 111 you for your tree as carefully as for a suit of clothes : the only difference being that the clothes are made to fit you, while you have to be made to fit the tree. Usually it is done quite easily, as by your wearing too many garments or too few, but if you are bumpy in awkward places or the only available tree is an odd shape, Peter does some things to you, and after that you fit. Once you fit, great care must be taken to go on fitting, and this, as Wendy was to discover to her delight, keeps a whole family in perfect condition. Wendy and Michael fitted their trees at the first try, but John had to be altered a little. After a few days' practice they could go up and down as gaily as buckets in a well. And how ardently they grew to love their home under the ground; especially Wendy! It con= sisted of one large room, as all houses should do, with a floor in which you could dig if you wanted to go fishing, and in this floor grew stout mushrooms of a charming colour, which were used as stools. A Never tree tried hard to grow in the centre of the room, but every morning they sawed the trunk through, level with the 112 PETER AND WENDY floor. By tea-time it was always about two feet high, and then they put a door on top of it, the whole thus becoming a table; as soon as they cleared away, they sawed off the trunk again, and thus there was more room to play. There was an enormous fireplace which was in almost any part of the room where you cared to light it, and across this Wendy stretched strings, made of fibre, from which she suspended her washing. The bed was tilted against the wall by day, and let down at 6.30, when it filled nearly half the room; and all the boys slept in it, except Michael, lying Uke sardines in a tin. There was a strict rule against turning round until one gave the signal, when all turned at once. Michael should have used it also, but Wendy would have a baby, and he was the littlest, and you know what women are, and the short and the long of it is that he was hung up in a basket. It was rough and simple, and not unlike what baby bears would have made of an under- ground house in the same cii'cumstances. But there was one recess in the wall, no larger than a bird-cage, which was the private apart- THE HOME UNDER THE GROUND 113 ment of Tinker Bell. It could be shut off from the rest of the home by a tiny curtain, which Tink, who was most fastidious, always kept drawn when dressing or undressing. No woman, however large, could have had a more exquisite boudoir and bed-chamber combined. The couch, as she always called it, was a genuine Queen Mab, with club legs; and she varied the bed- spreads according to what fruit-blossom was in season. Her mirror was a Puss-in-boots, of which there are now only three, unchipped, known to the fairy dealers; the wash-stand was Pie-crust and reversible, the chest of drawers an authentic Charming the Sixth, and the carpet and rugs of the best (the early) period of Margery and Robin. There was a chandelier from Tiddlywinks for the look of the thing, but of course she lit the residence herself. Tink was very contemptuous of the rest of the house, as indeed was perhaps inevitable, and her chamber, though beautiful, looked rather con- ceited, having the appearance of a nose per- manently turned up. I suppose it was all especially entrancing to Wendy, because those rampagious boys of hers 114 PETER AND WENDY gave her so much to do. Really there were whole weeks when, except perhaps with a stock- ing in the evening, she was never above ground. The cooking, I can tell you, kept her nose to the pot, and even if there was nothing in it, even though there was no pot, she had to keep watch- ing that it came aboil just the same. You never exactly knew whether there would be a real meal or just a make-believe, it all depended upon Peter's whim: he could eat, really eat, if it was part of a game, but he could not stodge just to feel stodgy, which is what most children like better than anything else; the next best thing being to talk about it. Make-believe was so real to him that during a meal of it you could see him getting rounder. Of course it was trying, but you simply had to follow his lead, and if you could prove to him that you were getting loose for your tree he let you stodge. Wendy's favourite time for sewing and darn- ing was after they had all gone to bed. Then, as she expressed it, she had a breathing time for herself; and she occupied it in making new things for them, and putting double pieces THE HOME UNDER THE GROUND 115 on the knees, for they were all most frightfully hard on their knees. When she sat down to a basketful of their stockings, every heel with a hole in it, she would fling up her arms and exclaim, "Oh dear, I am sure I sometimes think spinsters are to be envied!" Her face beamed when she exclaimed this. You remember about her pet wolf. Well, it very soon discovered that she had come to the island and found her out, and they just ran into each other's arms. After that it followed her about everywhere. As time wore on did she think much about the beloved parents she had left behind her.'^ This is a difficult question, because it is quite impossible to say how time does wear on in the Neverland, where it is calculated by moons and suns, and there are ever so many more of them than on the mainland. But I am afraid that Wendy did not really worry about her father and mother; she was absolutely confident that they would always keep the window open for her to fly back by, and this gave her complete ease of mind. What did disturb her at times 116 PETER AND WENDY was that John remembered his parents vagueij only, as people he had once known, while Michael was quite willing to believe that she was really his mother. These things scared her a Uttle, and nobly anxious to do her duty, she tried to fix the old life in their minds by setting them examination papers on it, as like as possible to the ones she used to do at school. The other boys thought this awfully interesting, and insisted on joining, and they made slates for themselves, and sat round the table, writing and thinking hard about the questions she had written on another slate and passed round. They were the most ordinary questions — *'What was the colour of Mother's eyes? Which was taller. Father or Mother? Was Mother blonde or brunette? Answer all three questions if possible.'* " (A) Write an essay of not less than 40 words on How I spent my last Holidays, or The Carakters of Father and Mother com- pared. Only one of these to be attempted." Or "(1) Describe Mother's laugh; (2) Describe Father's laugh; (3) Describe Mother's Party Dress; (4) Describe the Kennel and its Inmate." They were just everyday questions like these. THE HOME UNDER THE GROUND 117 and when you could not answer them you were told to make a cross; and it was really dreadful what a number of crosses even Jolin made. Of course the only boy who replied to every question was Slightly, and no one could have been more hopeful of coming out first, but his answers were perfectly ridiculous, and he really came out last: a melancholy thing. Peter did not compete. For one thing he despised all mothers except Wendy, and for another he was the only boy on the island who could neither write nor spell; not the smallest word. He was above all that sort of thing. By the way, the questions were all written in the past tense. What was the colour of Mother's eyes, and so on. Wendy, you see, had been forgetting too. Adventures, of course, as we shall see, were of daily occurrence; but about this time Peter invented, with Wendy's help, a new game that fascinated him enormously, until he suddenly had no more interest in it, which, as you have been told, was what always happened with his games. It consisted in pretending not to have adventures, in doing the sort of thing John and 118 PETER AND WENDY Michael had been doing all their lives, sitting on stools flinging balls in the air, pushing each other, going out for walks and coming back without having killed so much as a grizzly. To see Peter doing nothing on a stool was a great sight; he could not help looking solemn at such times, to sit still seemed to him such a comic thing to do. He boasted that he had gone a walk for the good of his health. For several suns these were the most novel of all adventures to him; and John and Michael had to pretend to be delighted also; otherwise he would have treated them severely. He often went out alone, and when he came back you were never absolutely certain whether he had had an adventure or not. He might have forgotten it so completely that he said nothing about it; and then when you went out you found the body; and, on the other hand, he might say a great deal about it, and yet you could not find the body. Sometimes he came home with his head bandaged, and then Wendy cooed over him and bathed it in lukewarm water, while he told a dazzling tale. But she was never quite sure, you know. There were. THE HOME UNDER THE GROUND 119 however, many adventures which she knew to be true because she was in them herself, and there were still more that were at least partly true, for the other boys were in them and said they were wholly true. To describe them all would require a book as large as an English- Latin, Latin-English Dictionary, and the most we can do is to give one as a specimen of an average hour on the island. The difficulty is which one to choose. Should we take the brush with the redskins at Slightly Gulch ? It was a sanguinary affair, and especially interesting as showing one of Peter's peculiarities, which was that in the middle of a fight he would suddenly change sides. At the Gulch, when victory was still in the balance, sometimes leaning this way and sometimes that, he called out, "I'm redskin to-day; what are you, Tootles.'^" And Tootles answe'red, "Redskin; what are you, Nibs.^" and Nibs said, "Redskin; what are you, Twin ?" and so on ; and they were all redskin ; and of course this would have ended the fight had not the real red- skins, fascinated by Peter's methods, agreed to be lost boys for that once, and so at it they all went again, more fiercely than ever. 120 PETER AND WENDY The extraordinary upshot of this adventure was — but we have not decided yet that this is the adventure we are to narrate. Perhaps a better one would be the night attack by the redskins on the house under the ground, when several of them stuck in the hollow trees and had to be pulled out like corks. Or we might tell how Peter saved Tiger Lily's life in the Mermaids' Lagoon, and so made her his ally. Or we could tell of that cake tlie pirates cooked so that the boys might eat it and perish; and how they placed it in one cunning spot after another; but always Wendy snatched it from the hands of her children, so that in time it lost its succulence, and became as hard as a stone, and was used as a missile, and Hook fell over it in the dark. Or suppose we tell of the birds that were Peter's friends, particularly of the Never bird that built in a tree overhanging the lagoon, and how the nest fell into the water, and still the bird sat on her eggs, and Peter gave orders that she was not to be disturbed. That is a pretty story, and the end shows how grateful a bird can be; but if we tell it we must also tell THE HOME UNDER THE GROUND Ul the whole adventure of the lagoon, which would of course be telling two adventures rather than just one. A shorter adventure, and quite as exciting, was Tinker Bell's attempt, with the help of some street fairies, to have the sleeps ing Wendy conveyed on a great floating leaf to the mainland. Fortunately the leaf gave way and Wendy woke, thinking it was bath-time, and swam back. Or again, we might choose Peter's defiance of the lions, when he drew a circle round him on the ground with an arrow and dared them to cross it; and though he waited for hours, with the other boys and Wendy looking on breathlessly from trees, not one of them would accept his challenge. Which of these adventures shall we choose.'^ The best way will be to toss for it. I have tossed, and the lagoon has won. This almost makes one wish that the gulch or the cake or Tink's leaf had won. Of course I could do it again, and make it best out of three; how- ever, perhaps fairest to stick to the lagoon. CHAPTER VIII THE mermaids' LA'GOON IF you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see at times a shapeless pool of lovely pale colours suspended in the dark- ness; then if you squeeze your eyes tighter, the pool begins to take shape, and the colours become so vivid that with another squeeze they must go on fire. But just before they go on fire you see the lagoon. This is the nearest you ever get to it on the mainland, just one heavenly moment; if there could be two moments you might see the surf and hear the mermaids singing. The children often spent long summer days on this lagoon, swimming or floating most of the time, playing the mermaid games in the water, and so forth. You must not think from this that the mermaids were on friendly terms 122 THE MERINIAIDS' LAGOON 123 with them: on the contrary, it was among Wendy's lasting regrets that all the time she was on the island she never had a civil word from one of them. When she stole softly to the edge of the lagoon she might see them b)' the score, especi- ally on Marooners' Rock, where they loved to bask, combing out their hair in a lazy way that quite irritated her; or she might even swim, on tiptoe as it were, to within a yard of them, but then they saw her and dived, probably splashing her with their tails, not by accident, but inten- tionally. They treated all the boys in the same way, except of course Peter, who chatted with them on Marooners' Rock by the hour and sat on their tails when they got cheeky. He gave Wendy one of their combs. The most haunting time at which to see them is at the turn of the moon, when they utter strange wailing cries ; but the lagoon Is dangerous for mortals then, and until the evening of which we have now to tell, Wendy had never seen the lagoon by moonlight, less from fear, for of course Peter would have accompanied her, than because she had strict rules about every one 124 PETER AND WENDY being in bed by seven. She was often at the lagoon, however, on sunny days after rain, when the mermaids come up in extraordinary numbers to play with their bubbles. The bubbles of many colours made in rainbow water they treat as balls, hitting them gaily from one to another with their tails, and trying to keep them in the rainbow till they burst. The goals are at each end of the rainbow, and the keepers only are allowed to use their hands. Sometimes a dozen of these games will be going on in the lagoon at a time, and it is quite a pretty sight. But the moment the children tried to join in they had to play by themselves, for the mermaids immediately disappeared. Nevertheless we have proof that they secretly watched the interlopers, and were not above taking an idea from them; for John introduced a new way of hitting the bubble, with the head instead of the hand, and the mermaids adopted it. This is the one mark that John has left on the Neverland. It must also have been rather pretty to see the children resting on a rock for half an hour after their mid-day meal. Wendy insisted on their THE MERMAIDS' LAGOON 125 doing this, and it had to be a real rest even though the meal was make-believe. So they lay there in the sun, and their bodies glistened in it, while she sat beside them and looked important. It was one such day, and they were all on Marooners' Rock. The rock was not much larger than their great bed, but of course they all knew how not to take up much room, and they were dozing or at least lying with their eyes shut, and pinching occasionally when they thought Wendy was not looking. She was very busy, stitching. While she stitched a change came to the lagoon. Little shivers ran over it, and the sun went away and shadows stole across the water, turning it cold. Wendy could no longer see to thread her needle, and when she looked up, the lagoon that had always hitherto been such a laughing place seemed formidable and un- friendly. It was not, she knew, that night had come, but something as dark as night had come. No, worse than that. It had not come, but it had sent that shiver through the sea to say that it was coming. What was it.? 126 PETER AND WENDY There crowded upon her all the stories she had been told of Marooners' Rock, so called because evil captains put sailors on it and leave them there to drown. They drown when the tide rises, for then it is submerged. Of course she should have roused the children at once; not merely because of the unknown that was stalking toward them, but because it was no longer good for them to sleep on a rock grown chilly. But she was a young mother and she did not know this; she thought you simply must stick to your rule about half an hour after the mid-day meal. So, though fear was upon her, and she longed to hear male voices, she would not waken them. Even when she heard the sound of muffled oars, though her heart was in her mouth, she did not waken them. She stood over them to let them have their sleep out. Was it not brave of Wendy ? It was well for those boys then that there was one among them who could sniff danger even in his sleep. Peter sprang erect, as wide awake at once as a dog, and with one warning cry he roused the others. THE MERMAIDS' LAGOON 127 He stood motionless, one hand to his ear. "Pirates!" he cried. The others came closer to him. A strange smile was playing about his face, and Wendy saw it and shuddered. While that smile was on his face no one dared address him; all they could do was to stand ready to obey. The order came sharp and incisive. "Dive!" There was a gleam of legs, and instantly the lagoon seemed deserted. Marooners' Rock stood alone in the forbidding waters, as if it were itself marooned. The boat drew nearer. It was the pirate dinghy, with three figures in her, Smee and Starkey, and the third a captive, no other than Tiger Lily. Her hands and ankles were tied, and she knew what was to be her fate. She was to be left on the rock to perish, an end to one of her race more terrible than death by fire or torture, for is it not written in the book of the tribe that there is no path through water to the happy hunting-ground ? Yet her face was impassive; she was the daughter of a chief, she must die as a chief's daughter, it is enough. They had caught her boarding the pirate ship 128 PETER AND WENDY with a knife in her mouth. No watch was kept on the ship, it being Hook's boast that the wind of his name guarded the ship for a mile around. Now her fate would help to guard it also. One more wail would go the round in that wind by night. In the gloom that they brought with them the two pirates did not see the rock till they crashed into it. "Luff, you lubber,** cried an Irish voice that was Smee's; "here's the rock. Now, then, what we have to do is to hoist the redskin on to it and leave her there to drown.'* It was the work of one brutal moment to land the beautiful girl on the rock; she was too proud to offer a vain resistance. Quite near the rock, but out of sight, two heads were bobbing up and down, Peter's and Wendy's. Wendy was crying, for it was the first tragedy she had seen. Peter had seen many tragedies, but he had forgotten them all. He was less sorry than Wendy for Tiger Lily: it was two against one that angered him, and he meant to save her. An easy way would have been to wait until the pirates had gone. THE MERMAIDS' LAGOON 129 but he was never one to choose the easy way. There was almost nothing he could not do, and he now imitated the voice of Hook. "Ahoy there, you lubbers!" he called. It was a marvellous imitation. "The captain!" said the pirates, staring at each other in surprise. "He must be swimming out to us," Starkey said, when they had looked for him in vain. "We are putting the redskin on the rock," Smee called out. "Set her free," came the astonishing answer. "Free!" "Yes, cut her bonds and let her go." "But, captain- " "At once, d'ye hear," cried Peter, "or I'll plunge my hook in you." "This is queer!" Smee gasped. "Better do what the captain orders," said Starkey nervously. "Ay, ay," Smee said, and he cut Tiger Lily's cords. At once like an eel she slid between Starkey' s legs into the water. Of course Wendy was very elated over 130 PETER AND WENDY Peter's cleverness; but she knew that he would be elated also and very likely crow and thus betray himself, so at once her hand went out to cover his mouth. But it was stayed even in the act, for "Boat ahoy!" rang over the lagoon in Hook's voice, but this time it was not Peter who had spoken. Peter may have been about to crow, but his face puckered in a whistle of surprise instead. "Boat ahoy!" again came the voice. Now Wendy understood. The real Hook was also in the water. He was swimming to the boat, and as his men showed a light to guide him he had soon reached them. In the light of the lantern Wendy saw his hook grip the boat's side; she saw his evil swarthy face as he rose dripping from the water, and, quaking, she would have liked to swim away, but Peter would not budge. He was tingling with life and also top-heavy with conceit. "Am I not a wonder, oh, I am a wonder!" he whispered to her, and though she thought so also, she was really glad for the sake of his reputation that no one heard him except herself. THE MERMAIDS' LAGOON 131 He signed to her to listen. The two pirates were very curious to know what had brought their captain to them, but he sat with his head on his hook in a position of profound melancholy. ''Captain, is all well.^" they asked timidly, but he answered with a hollow moan. "He sighs," said Smee. "He sighs again," said Starkey. "And vet a third time he sighs," said Smee. ■' What 's up, captain ? " Then at last he spoke passionately. "The game 's up, he cried, "those boys have found a mother." Affrighted though she was, Wendy swelled with pride. "O evil day!" cried Starkey. "What's a mother.'^" asked the ignorant Smee. Wendy was so shocked that she exclaimed, "He doesn't know!" and always after this she felt that if you could have a pet pirate Smee would be her one. Peter pulled her beneath the water, for Hook had started up, crying, "What was that?" 132 PETER AND WENDY "I heard nothing," said Starkey, raising the lantern over the waters, and as the pirates looked they saw a strange sight. It was the nest I have told you of, floating on the lagoon, and the Never bird was sitting on it. "See," said Hook in answer to Smee's question "that is a mother. What a lesson! The nest must have fallen into the water, but would the mother desert her eggs ? No." There was a break in his voice, as if for a moment he recalled innocent days when — but he brushed away this weakness with his hook. Smee, much impressed, gazed at the bird as the nest was borne past, but the more suspicious Starkey said, "If she is a mother, perhaps she is hanging about here to help Peter." Hook winced. "Ay," he said, "that is the fear that haunts me." He was roused from this dejection by Smee's eager voice. "Captain," said Smee, "could we not kidnap these boys' mother and make her our mother ? " "It is a princely scheme," cried Hook, and at once it took practical shape in his great brain. "We will seize the children and carry them to THE MERMAIDS' LAGOON 133 the boat : the boys we will make walk the plank, and Wendy shall be our mother." Again Wendy forgot herself. *' Never!*' she cried, and bobbed. "What was that?" But they could see nothing. They thought it must have been but a leaf in the wind. "Do you agree, my bullies.^" asked Hook. "There is my hand on it," they both said. "And there is my hook. Swear." "They all swore. By this time they were on the rock, and suddenly Hook remembered Tiger Lily. "Where is the redskin?" he demanded abruptly. He had a playful humour at moments, and they thought this was one of the moments. "That is all right, captain," Smee answered complacently; "we let her go." "Let her go!" cried Hook. '*'Twas your own orders," the bo'sun faltered. "You called over the water to us to let her go," said Starkey. "Brimstone and gall," thundered Hook, "what cozening is here!" His face had gone black 134 PETER AND WENDY with rage, but he saw that they beheved their words, and he was startled. "Lads," he said, shaking a httle, "I gave no such order." "It is passing queer," Smee said, and they all fidgeted uncomfortably. Hook raised his voice, but there was a quiver in it. "Spirit that haunts this dark lagoon to-night," he cried, " dost hear me ? " Of course Peter should have kept quiet, but of course he did not. He immediately answered in Hook's voice: "Odds, bobs, hammer and tongs, I hear you." In that supreme moment Hook did not blanch, even at the gills, but Smee and Starkey clung to each other in terror. "Who are you, stranger, speak?" Hook de- manded. * ' I am James Hook,' ' replied the voice, * '■ captain of the Jolly Roger." "You are not; you are not," Hook cried hoarsely. "Brimstone and gall," the voice retorted, "say that again, and I '11 cast anchor in you." Hook tried a more ingratiating manner. "If THE MERMAIDS' LAGOON 135 you are Hook," he said almost humbly, "come tell me, who am I ?" "A codfish," replied the voice, "only a cod- fish." "A codfish!" Hook echoed blankly, and it was then, but not till then, that his proud spirit broke. He saw his men draw back from him. "Have we been captained all this time by a codfish!" they muttered. "It is lowering to our pride." They were his dogs snapping at him, but, tragic figure though he had become, he scarcely heeded them. Against such fearful evidence it was not their belief in him that he needed, it was his own. He felt his ego slipping from him. "Don't desert me, bully," he whispered hoarsely to it. In his dark nature there was a touch of the feminine, as in all the greatest pirates, and it sometimes gave him intuitions. Suddenly he tried the guessing game. "Hook," he called, "have you another voice ?" Now Peter could never resist a game, and he answered blithely in his own voice, "I have." " And another name ? " 136 PETER AND WENDY ^Ay,ay." "Vegetable?" asked Hook, "No." "Mineral?" ^No." Animal?" ^Yes." "Man?" "No!" This answer rang out scornfullyo "Boy?" "Yes." "Ordinary boy?" "No!" "Wonderful boy?" To Wendy's pain the answer that rang out this time was "Yes." "Are you in England?" "No." " Are you here ? " "Yes." Hook was completely puzzled. "You ask him some questions," he said to the others, wiping his damp brow. Smee rejflected. " I can't think of a thing, " he said regretfully. THE MERMAIDS' LAGOON 137 " Can't guess, can't guess ! " crowed Peter. *' Do you give it up?" Of course in his pride he was carrying the game too far, and the miscreants saw their chance. *'Yes, yes," they answered eagerly. "Well, then," he cried, "I am Peter Pan!" Pan! In a moment Hook was himself again, and Smee and Starkey were his faithful henchmen. "Now we have him," Hook shouted. "Into the water, Smee. Starkey, mind the boat. Take him dead or alive!" He leaped as he spoke, and simultaneously came the gay voice of Peter. "Are you ready, boys?" "Ay, ay," from various parts of the lagoon. "Then lam into the pirates." The fight was short and sharp. First to draw blood was John, who gallantly climbed into the boat and held Starkey. There was a fierce struggle, in which the cutlass was torn from the pirate's grasp. He wriggled overboard and John leapt after him. The dinghy drifted away. 138 PETER AND WENDY Here and there a head bobbed up in the water, and there was a flash of steel followed by a cry or a whoop. In the confusion some struck at their own side. The corkscrew of Smee got Tootles in the fourth rib, but he was himself pinked in turn by Curly. Farther from the rock Starkey was pressing Slightly and the twins hard. Where all this time was Peter .^ He was seeking bigger game. The others were all brave boys, and they must not be blamed for backing from the pirate captain. His iron claw made a circle of dead water round him, from which they fled like affrighted fishes. But there was one who did not fear him: there was one prepared to enter that circle. Strangely, it was not in the water that they met. Hook rose to the rock to breathe, and at the same moment Peter scaled it on the opposite side. The rock was slippery as a ball, and they had to crawl rather than climb. Neither knew that the other was coming. Each feeling for a grip met the other's arm: in surprise they raised THE MERMAIDS' LAGOON 139 their heads; their faces were almost touching; so they met. Some of the greatest heroes have confessed that just before they fell to they had a sinking. Had it been so with Peter at that moment I would admit it. After all, this was the only man that the Sea-Cook had feared. But Peter had no sinking, he had one feeling only, glad- ness; and he gnashed his pretty teeth with joy. Quick as thought he snatched a knife from Hook's belt and was about to drive it home, when he saw that he was higher up the rock than his foe. It would not have been fighting fair. He gave the pirate a hand to help him up. It was then that Hook bit him. Not the pain of this but its unfairness was what dazed Peter. It made him quite helpless. He could only stare, horrified. Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated un- fairly. All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but he will never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfair' 140 PETER AND WENDY ness; no one except Peter. He often met it, but he always forgot it. I suppose that was the real difference between him and all the rest. So when he met it now it was like the first time; and he could just stare, helpless. Twice the iron hand clawed him. A few minutes afterwards the other boys saw Hook in the water striking wildly for the ship; no elation on his pestilent face now, only white fear, for the crocodile was in dogged pursuit of him. On ordinary occasions the boys would have swum alongside cheering; but now they were uneasy, for they had lost both Peter and Wendy, and were scouring the lagoon for them, calling them by name. They found the dinghy and went home in it, shouting "Peter, Wendy" as they went, but no answer came save mocking laughter from the mermaids. *'They must be swimming back or flying," the boys concluded. They were not very anxious, they had such faith in Peter. They chuckled, boylike, because they would be late for bed; and it was all mother Wendy's fault! WTien their voices died away there came cold silence over the lagoon, and then a feeble cry. THE MERMAIDS' LAGOON 141 "Help, help!" Two small figures were beating against the rock; the girl had fainted and lay on the boy's arm. With a last effort Peter pulled her up the rock and then lay down beside her. Even as he also fainted he saw that the water was rising. He knew that they would soon be drowned, but he could do no more. As they lay side by side a mermaid caught Wendy by the feet, and began pulling her softly into the water. Peter, feeling her slip from him, woke with a start, and was just in time to draw her back. But he had to tell her the truth. "We are on the rock, Wendy," he said, "but it is growing smaller. Soon the water will be over it." She did not understand even now. "We must go," she said, almost brightly. "Yes," he answered faintly. " Shall we swim or fly, Peter ? " He had to tell her. "Do you think you could sv/im or fly as far as the island, Wendy, without my help ? " She had to admit that she was too tired. 142 PETER AND WENDY He moaned. "What is it?" she asked, anxious about him at once. "I can't help you, Wendy. Hook wounded me. I can neither fly nor swim." " Do you mean we shall both be drowned ? " "Look how the water is rising." They put their hands over their eyes to shut out the sight. They thought they would soon be no more. As they sat thus something brushed against Peter as light as a kiss, and stayed there, as if saying timidly, "Can I be of any use ? " It was the tail of a kite, which Michael had made some days before. It had torn itself out of his hand and floated away. "Michael's kite," Peter said without interest, but next moment he had seized the tail, and was pulling the kite toward him. "It lifted Michael off the ground," he cried; '* why should it not carry you ? " "Both of us!" "It can't lift two; Michael and Curly tried." '*Let us draw lots," Wendy said bravely. "And you a lady; never." Already he had "TO DIE WILL BE AN AWFULLY BIG ADVENTURE?" THE MERMAIDS' LAGOON 143 tied the tail round her. She clung to him; she refused to go without him; but with a "Good-bye, Wendy," he pushed her from the rock; and in a few minutes she was borne out of his sight. Peter was alone on the lagoon. The rock was very small now; soon it would be submerged. Pale rays of light tiptoed across the waters ; and by and by there was to be heard a sound at once the most musical and the most melancholy in the world: the mermaids calling to the moon. Peter was not quite like other boys; but he was afraid at last. A tremor ran through him, like a shudder passing over the sea; but on the sea one shudder follows another till there are hundreds of them, and Peter felt just the one. Next moment he was standing erect on the rock again, with that smile on his face and a drum beating within him. It was saying, "To die will be an awfully big adventure." CHAPTER IX THE NEVER BIRD THE last sounds Peter heard before he was quite alone were the mermaids retiring one by one to their bedcham- bers under the sea. He was too far away to hear their doors shut; but every door in the coral caves where they live rings a tiny bell when it opens or closes (as in all the nicest houses on the mainland), and he heard the bells. Steadily the waters rose till they were nib- bling at his feet; and to pass tlie time until they made their final gulp, he watched the only thing moving on the lagoon. He thought it was a piece of floating paper, perhaps part of the kite, and wondered idly how long it would take to drift ashore. I THE NEVER BIRD 145 Presently he noticed as an odd thing that it was undoubtedly out upon the lagoon with some definite purpose, for it was fighting the tide, and sometimes winning; and when it won, Peter, always sympathetic to the weaker side, could not help clapping; it was such a gallant piece of paper. It was not really a piece of paper; it was the Never bird, making desperate efforts to reach Peter on her nest. By working her wings, in a way she had learned since the nest fell into the water, she was able to some extent to guide her strange craft, but by the time Peter recog- nised her she was very exhausted. She had come to save him, to give him her nest, though there were eggs in it. I rather wonder at the bird, for though he had been nice to her, he had also sometimes tormented her. I can suppose only that, like Mrs. Darling and the rest of them, she was melted because he had all his first teeth. She called out to him what she had come for, and he called out to her what was she doing there; but of course neither of them understood the other's language. In fanciful stories people 146 PETER AND WENDY can talk to the birds freely, and I wish for the moment I could pretend that this was such a story, and say that Peter replied intelligently to the Never bird; but truth is best, and I want to tell only what really happened. Well, not only could they not understand each other, but they forgot their manners. "I — want — you — to — get — into — the — nest," the bird called, speaking as slowly and distinctly as possible, "and — then — you — can — drift — ashore, but — I — am — too — tired — to — bring — it — any — nearer — so — you — must — try — to — swim — to — it." "What are you quacking about .^" Peter answered. "Why don't you let the nest drift as usual .^" "I — want — ^you — " the bird said, and repeated it all over. Then Peter tried slow and distinct. " What — are — ^you — quacking — about ? " and so on. The Never bird became irritated; they have very short tempers. "You dunderheaded little jay," she screamedj. " why don't you do as I tell you ? " THE NEVER BIRD 147 Peter felt that she was calling him names, and at a venture he retorted hotly: "So are you!" Then rather curiously they both snapped out the same remark. "Shut up!" "Shut up!" Nevertheless the bird was determined to save him if she could, and by one last mighty effort she propelled the nest against the rock. Then up she flew; deserting her eggs, so as to make her meaning clear. Then at last he understood, and clutched the nest and waved his thanks to the bird as she fluttered overhead. It was not to receive his thanks, however, that she hung there in the sky; it was not even to watch him get into the nest; it was to see what he did with her eggs. There were two large white eggs, and Peter lifted them up and reflected. The bird covered her face with her wings, so as not to see the last of them; but she could not help peeping between the feathers. I forget whether I have told you that there was a stave on the rock, driven into it by some 148 PETER AND WENDY buccaneers of long ago to mark the site of burled treasure. The children had discovered the glit- tering hoard, and when in mischievous mood used to fling showers of moidores, diamonds, pearls and pieces of eight to the gulls, who pounced upon them for food, and then flew away, raging at the scurvy trick that had been played upon them. The stave was still there, and on it Starkey had hung his hat, a deep tarpaulin, watertight, with a broad brim. Peter put the eggs into this hat and set it on the lagoon. It floated beautifully. The Never bird saw at once what he was up to, and screamed her admiration of him; and, alas, Peter crowed his agreement with her. Then he got into the nest, reared the stave in it as a mast, and hung up his shirt for a sail. At the same moment the bird fluttered down upon the hat and once more sat snugly on her eggs. She drifted in one direction, and he was borne off in another, both cheering. Of course when Peter landed he beached his barque in a place where the bird would easily find it; but the hat was such a great success that she abandoned the nest. It drifted about THE NEVER BIRD 149 till it went to pieces, and often Starkey came to the shore of the lagoon, and with many bitter feeUngs watched the bird sitting on his hat. As we shall not see her again, it may be worth mentioning here that all Never birds now build in that shape of nest, with a broad brim on which the youngsters take an airing. Great were the rejoicings when Peter reached the home under the ground almost as soon as Wendy, who had been carried hither and thither by the kite. Every boy had adventures to tell; but perhaps the biggest adventure of all was that they were several hours late for bed. This so inflated them that they did various dodgy things to get staying up still longer, such as demanding bandages; but Wendy, though glorying in having them all home again safe and sound, was scandalised by the lateness of the hour, and cried, "To bed, to bed," in a voice that had to be obeyed. Next day, how- ever, she was awfully tender, and gave out bandages to every one, and they played till bed-time at limping about and carrying their arms in slings. CHAPTER X THE HAPPY HOME ONE important result of the brush on the lagoon was that it made the redskins their friends. Peter had saved Tiger Lily from a dreadful fate, and now there was nothing she and her braves would not do for him. All night they sat above, keeping watch over the home under the ground and aw^aiting the big attack by the pirates which obviously could not be much longer delayed. Even by day they hung about, smoking the pipe of peace, and looking almost as if they wanted tit-bits to eat. They called Peter the Great White Father, prostrating themselves before him; and he liked this tremendously, so that it was not really good for him. 150 THE HAPPY HOME 151 "The great white father," he would say to them in a very lordly manner, as they grovelled at his feet, " is glad to see the Piccaninny warriors protecting his wigwam from the pirates." "Me Tiger Lily," that lovely creature would reply, "Peter Pan save me, me his velly nice friend. Me no let pirates hurt him." She was far too pretty to cringe in this way, but Peter thought it his due, and he would answer condescendingly, "It is good. Peter Pan has spoken." Always when he said, "Peter Pan has spoken," it meant that they must now shut up, and they accepted it humbly in that spirit; but they were by no means so respectful to the other boys, whom they looked upon as just ordinary braves. They said "How-do?" to them, and things like that; and what annoyed the boys was that Peter seemed to think this all right. Secretly Wendy sympathised with them a little, but she was far too loyal a housewife to listen to any complaints against father. "Father knows best," she always said, whatever her private opinion must be. Her private opinion was that the redskins should not call her a squaw. 152 PETER AND WENDY We have now reached the evening that was to be known among them as the Night of Nights, because of its adventures and their upshot. The day, as if quietly gathering its forces, had been almost uneventful, and now the redskins in their blankets were at their posts above, while, below, the children were having their evening meal; all except Peter, who had gone out to get the time. The way you got the time on the island was to find the crocodile, and then stay near him till the clock struck. This meal happened to be a make-believe tea, and they sat round the board, guzzling in their greed; and really, what with their chatter and recriminations, the noise, as Wendy said, was positively deafening. To be sure, she did not mind noise, but she simply would not have them grabbing things, and then excusing themselves by saying that Tootles had pushed their elbow. There was a fixed rule that they must never hit back at meals, but should refer the matter of dispute to Wendy by raising the right arm politely and saying, "I complain of so-and-so"; but what usually happened was that they forgot to do this or did it too much. THE HAPPY HOME 153 "Silence," cried Wendy when for the twentieth time she had told them that they were not all to speak at once. "Is your mug empty, Slightly darling ? " "Not quite empty, mummy," Slightly said, after looking into an imaginary mug. "He hasn't even begun to drink his milk," Nibs interposed. This was telling, and Slightly seized his chance. "I complain of Nibs," he cried promptly. John, however, had held up his hand first. "Well, John.?" " May I sit in Peter's chair, as he is not here ? " "Sit in father's chair, John!" Wendy was scandalised, "Certainly not." "He is not really our father," John answered. "He didn't even know how a father does till I showed him." This was grumbling. "We complain of John," cried the twins. Tootles held up his hand. He was so much the humblest of them, indeed he was the only humble one, that Wendy was specially gentle with him. 154 PETER AND WENDY "I don't suppose," Tootles said diffidently, " that I could be father." "No, Tootles." Once Tootles began, which was not very often, he had a silly way of going on. "As I can't be father," he said heavily, "I don't suppose, Michael, you would let me be baby.?" "No, I won't," Michael rapped out. He was already in his basket. "As I can't be baby," Tootles said, getting heavier and heavier, "do you think I could be a twin ? " "No, indeed," replied the twins; "it's awfully difficult to be a twin." "As I can't be anything important," said Tootles, "would any of you like to see me do a trick.?" "No," they all repHed. Then at last he stopped. "I hadn't really any hope," he said. The hateful telling broke out again. "Slightly is coughing on the table." "The twins began with cheese-cakes." " Curly is taking both butter and honey." THE HAPPY HOME 155 **Nibs is speaking with his mouth full." *'I complain of the twins." "I complain of Curly." "I complain of Nibs." "Oh dear, oh dear," cried Wendy, "I 'm sure I sometimes think that spinsters are to be envied." She told them to clear away, and sat down to her work-basket, a heavy load of stockings and every knee with a hole in it as usual. "Wendy," remonstrated Michael, "I'm too big for a cradle." "I must have somebody in a cradle," she said almost tartly, "and you are the littlest. A cradle is such a nice homely thing to have about a house." While she sewed they played around her; such a group of happy faces and dancing limbs lit up by that romantic fire. It had become a very familiar scene this in the home under the ground, but we are looking on it for the last time. There was a step above, and Wendy, you may be sure, was the first to recognise it. "Children, I hear your father's step. He likes you to meet him at the door." 156 PETER AND WENDY Above, the redskins crouched before Peter. "Watch well, braves. I have spoken." And then, as so often before, the gay children dragged him from his tree. As so often before, but never again. He had brought nuts for the boys as well as the correct time for Wendy. "Peter, you just spoil them, you know%" Wendy simpered. "Ah, old lady," said Peter, hanging up his gun. "It was me told him mothers are called old lady," Michael whispered to Curly. "I complain of Michael," said Curly instantly. The first twin came to Peter. "Father, we want to dance." "Dance away, my little man," said Peter, who was in high good humour. " But we want you to dance." Peter was really the best dancer among them, but he pretended to be scandalised. " Me ! My old bones would rattle ! " "And mummy too." "What!" cried Wendy, "the mother of such an armful, dance!" THE HAPPY HOME 157 "But on a Saturday night," Slightly in- sinuated. It was not really Saturday night, at least it may have been, for they had long lost count of the days; but always if they wanted to do anything special they said this was Saturday night, and then they did it. " Of course it is Saturday night, Peter," Wendy said, relenting. ** People of our j&gure, Wendy!" "But it is only among our own progeny." "True, true." So they were told they could dance, but they must put on their nighties first. "Ah, old lady," Peter said aside to Wendy, warming himself by the fire and looking down at her as she sat turning a heel, "there is nothing more pleasant of an evening for you and me when the day's toil is over than to rest by the fire with the little ones near by-" "It is sweet, Peter, isn't it.^" Wendy said, frightfully gratified. "Peter, I think Curly has your nose." " Michael takes after you." 158 PETER AND WENDY She went to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Dear Peter," she said, "with such a large family, of course, I have now passed my best, but you don't want to change me, do you ?" "No, Wendy." Certainly he did not want a change, but he looked at her uncomfortably, blinking, you know, like one not sure whether he was awake or asleep. "Peter, what is it?" "I was just thinking," he said, a little scared. "It is only make-believe, isn't it, that I am their father.?" " Oh yes," Wendy said primly. "You see," he continued apologetically, "it would make me seem so old to be their real father." "But they are ours, Peter, yours and mine." "But not really, Wendy .?" he asked anxiously. "Not if you don't wish it," she replied; and she distinctly heard his sigh of relief. "Peter," she asked, trying to speak firmly, "what are your exact feelings to me ? " THE HAPPY HOME 159 "Those of a devoted son, Wendy." *'I thought so," she said, and went and sat by herself at the extreme end of the room. "You are so queer," he said, frankly puzzled, "and Tiger Lily is just the same. There is something she wants to be to me, but she says it is not my mother." "No, indeed, it is not," Wendy replied with frightful emphasis. Now we know why she was prejudiced against the redskins. "Then what is it.?" "It isn't for a lady to tell." "Oh, very well," Peter said, a little nettled. "Perhaps Tinker Bell will tell me." "Oh yes. Tinker Bell will tell you," Wendy retorted scornfully. "She is an abandoned little creature." Here Tink, who was in her bedroom, eaves- dropping, squeaked out something impudent. "She says she glories in being abandoned," Peter interpreted. He had a sudden idea. "Perhaps Tink wants to be my mother ? " "You silly ass!" cried Tinker Bell in a passion. 160 PETER AND WENDY She had said it so often that Wendy needed no translation. "I aknost agree with her," Wendy snapped. Fancy Wendy snapping! But she had been much tried, and she little knew what was to happen before the night was out. If she had known she would not have snapped. None of them knew. Perhaps it was best not to know. Their ignorance gave them one more glad hour; and as it was to be their last hour on the island, let us rejoice that there were sixty glad minutes in it. They sang and danced in their night-gowns. Such a deliciously creepy song it was, in which they pretended to be frightened at their own shadows, little witting that so soon shadows would close in upon them, from whom tliey would shrink in real fear. So uproariously gay was the dance, and how they buffeted each other on the bed and out of it! It was a pillow fight rather than a dance, and when it was finished, the pillows insisted on one bout more, like partners who know that they may never meet again. The stories they told, before it was time for Wendy's good-night story! Even Slightly tried to tell a story that THE HAPPY HOME 161 night, and the beginning was so fearfully dull that it appalled not only the others but himself, and he said happily: "Yes, it is a dull beginning. I say, let us pretend that it is the end." And then at last they all got into bed for Wendy's story, the story they loved best, the story Peter hated. Usually when she began to tell this story, he left the room or put his hands over his ears; and possibly if he had done either of those things this time they might all still be on the island. But to-night he remained on his stool; and we shall see what happened. CHAPTER XI Wendy's story "LISTEN, then," said Wendy, settling down I y to her story, with Michael at her feet and seven boys in the bed. "There was once a gentleman " "I had rather he had been a lady," Curly said. "I wish he had been a white rat," said Nibs. "Quiet," their mother admonished them. ''There was a lady also, and " "O mummy," cried the first twin, "you mean that there is a lady also, don't you ? She is not dead, is she?" "Oh no." "I am awfully glad she isn't dead," said Tootles. "Are you glad, John.^" "Of course I am." " Are you glad, Nibs. ?^" 162 WENDY'S STORY 163 "Rather." "Are you glad, Twins?" " We are just glad." "Oh dear," sighed Wendy. "Little less noise there," Peter called out, determined that she should have fair play, how- ever beastly a story it might be in his opinion. "The gentleman's name," Wendy continued, "was Mr. Darling, and her name was Mrs. Darling." "I knew them," John said, to annoy the others. "I think I knew them," said Michael rather doubtfully. "They were married, you know," explained Wendy, "and what do you think they had?" "White rats!" cried Nibs, inspired. "No." " It 's awfully puzzling," said Tootles,who knew the story by heart. "Quiet, Tootles. They had three descen- dants." " What is descendants ?" " Well, you are one. Twin." "Do you hear that, John? I am a dascen- dant." 164 PETER AND WENDY *' Descendants are only children," said John. "Oh dear, oh dear," sighed Wendy. "Now these three children had a faithful nurse called Nana; but Mr. Darling was angry with her and chained her up in the yard, and so all the chil- dren flew away." "It 's an awfully good story," said Nibs. "They flew away," Wendy continued, "to the Neverland, where the lost children are." "I just thought they did," Curly broke in excitedly. "I don't know how it is, but I just thought they did!" "O Wendy," cried Tootles, "was one of the lost children called Tootles ? " "Yes, he was." "I am in a story. Hurrah, I am in a story. Nibs." "Hush. Now I want you to consider the feelings of the unhappy parents with all their children flown away." "Oo!" they all moaned, though they were not really considering the feelings of the unhappy parents one jot. "Think of the empty beds!" "Oo!" WENDY'S STORY 165 "It's awfully sad," the first twin said cheer- fully. "I don't see how it can have a happy ending," said the second twin. "Do you. Nibs?" "I'm frightfully anxious." "If you knew how great is a mother's love," Wendy told them triumphantly, "you would have no fear." She had now come to the part that Peter hated. "I do Uke a mother's love," said Tootles, hitting Nibs with a pillow. "Do you like a mother's love. Nibs?" "I do just," said Nibs, hitting back. "You see," Wendy said complacently, "our heroine knew that the mother would always leave the window open for her children to fly back by; so they stayed away for years and had a lovely time." "Did they ever go back?" "Let us now," said Wendy, bracing herself up for her finest effort, " take a peep into the future " ; and they all gave themselves the twist that makes peeps into the future easier. "Years have rolled by, and who is this elegant lady of uncertain age alighting at London Station ? " 166 PETER AND WENDY "O Wendy, who Is she?" cried Nibs, every bit as excited as if he didn't know. " Can it be — ^yes — no — it is — the fair Wendy ! " "Oh!" "And who are the two noble portly figures accompanying her, now grown to man's estate ? Can they be John and Michael ? They are ! " "Oh!" " * See, dear brothers, ' says Wendy, pointing upwards, "'there is the window still standing open. Ah, now we are rewarded for our sub- lime faith in a mother's love.' So up they flew to their mummy and daddy, and pen cannot describe the happy scene, over which we draw a veil." That was the story, and they were as pleased with it as the fair narrator herself. Everything just as it should be, you see. Off we skip like the most heartless things in the world, which is what children are, but so attractive; and we have an entirely selfish time, and then when we have need of special attention we nobly return for it, confident that we shall be rewarded in- stead of smacked. So great indeed was their faith in a mother's WENDY'S STORY 167 love that they felt they could afford to be callous for a bit longer. But there was one there who knew better, and when Wendy finished he uttered a hollow groan. " What is it, Peter ? " she cried, running to him, thinking he was ill. She felt him solicitously, lower down than his chest. "Where is it, Peter.?" "It isn't that kind of pain," Peter replied darkly. "Then what kind is it.?" " Wendy, you are wrong about mothers." They all gathered round him in affright, so alarming was his agitation; and with a fine candour he told them what he had hitherto concealed. "Long ago," he said, "I thought like you that my mother would always keep the window open for me, so I stayed away for moons and moons and moons, and then flew back; but the window was barred, for mother had forgotten all about me, and there was another little boy sleeping in my bed." I am not sure that this was true, but Peter thought it was true; and it scared them. 168 PETER AND WENDY " Are you sure mothers are like that ? " ''Yes." So this was the truth about mothers. The toads! Still it is best to be careful; and no one knows so quickly as a child when he should give in. "Wendy, let us go home," cried John and Michael together. "Yes," she said, clutching them. " Not to-night.'^" asked the lost boys bewildered. They knew in what they called their hearts that one can get on quite well without a mother, and that it is only the mothers who think you can't. "At once," Wendy replied resolutely, for the horrible thought had come to her: '* Perhaps mother is in half mourning by this time." This dread made her forgetful of what must be Peter's feelings, and she said to him rather sharply, "Peter, will you make the necessary arrangements ? " "If you wish it," he replied, as coolly as if she had asked him to pass the nuts. Not so much as a sorry-to-lose-you between them! If she did not mind the parting, he was WENDY'S STORY 169 going to show her, was Peter, that neither did he. But of course he cared very much; and he was so full of wrath against grown-ups, who, as usual, were spoiling everything, that as soon as he got inside his tree he breathed intentionally quick short breaths at the rate of about five to a second. He did this because there is a saying in the Neverland that, every time you breathe, a grown-up dies; and Peter was killing them off vindictively as fast as possible. Then having given the necessary instructions to the redskins he returned to the home, where an unworthy scene had been enacted in his absence. Panic-stricken at the thought of losing Wendy the lost boys had advanced upon her threateningly. "It will be worse than before she came," they cried. "We shan't let her go." "Let's keep her prisoner." "Ay, chain her up." In her extremity an instinct told her to which of them to turn. "Tootles," she cried, "I appeal to you." 170 PETER AND WENDY Was it not strange ? she appealed to Tootles, quite the silliest one. Grandly, however, did Tootles respond. For that one moment he dropped his silliness and spoke with dignity. "I am just Tootles," he said, "and nobody minds me. But the first who does not behave to Wendy like an English gentleman I will blood him severely." He drew his hanger; and for that instant his sun was at noon. The others held back uneasily. Then Peter returned, and they saw at once that they would get no support from him. He would keep no girl in the Neverland against her will. "Wendy," he said, striding up and down, "I have asked the redskins to guide you through the wood, as flying tires you so." "Thank you, Peter." "Then," he continued, in the short sharp voice of one accustomed to be obeyed, "Tinker Bell will take you across the sea. Wake her. Nibs." Nibs had to knock twice before he got an answer, though Tink had really been sitting up in bed listening for some time. WENDY'S STORY 171 " Who are you ? How dare you ? Go away," she cried. ** You are to get up, Tink," Nibs called, " and take Wendy on a journey." Of course Tink had been delighted to hear that Wendy was going ; but she was jolly well determined not to be her courier, and she said so in still more offensive language. Then she pretended to be asleep again. "She says she won't!" Nibs exclaimed, aghast at such insubordination, whereupon Peter went sternly toward the young lady's chamber. "Tink," he rapped out, *'if you don't get up and dress at once I will open the curtains, and then we shall all see you in your negligee.^' This made her leap to the floor. "Who said I wasn't getting up.'*" she cried. In the meantime the boys were gazing very forlornly at Wendy, now equipped with John and Michael for the journey. By this time they were dejected, not merely because they were about to lose her, but also because they felt that she was going off to something nice to which they had not been invited. Novelty was beckoning to them as usual. 172 PETER AND WENDY Crediting them with a nobler feehng Wendy melted. "Dear ones," she said, "if you will all come with me I feel almost sure I can get my father and mother to adopt you." The invitation was meant specially for Peter, but each of the boys was thinking exclusivel}' of himself, and at once they jumped with joy. "But won't they think us rather a handful.^" Nibs asked in the middle of his jump. "Oh no," said Wendy, rapidly thinking it out, "it will only mean having a few beds in the drawing-room; they can be hidden behind screens on first Thursdays." "Peter, can we go ? " they all cried imploringly. They took it for granted that if they went he would go also, but really they scarcely cared. Thus children are ever ready, when novelty knocks, to desert their dearest ones. "All right," Peter replied with a bitter smile,, and immediately they rushed to get their things. "And now, Peter," Wendy said, thinking she had put everything right, "I am going to give you your medicine before you go." She loved to give them medicine, and undoubtedly gav« WENDY'S STORY 173 them too much. Of course it was only water, but it was out of a bottle, and she always shook the bottle and counted the drops, which gave it a certain medicinal quality. On this occasion, however, she did not give Peter his draught, for just as she had prepared it, she saw a look on his face that made her heart sink. *' Get your things, Peter," she cried, shaking. "No," he answered, pretending indifference, "I am not going with you, Wendy." "Yes, Peter." "No." To show that her departure would leave him unmoved, he skipped up ana down the room, playing gaily on his heartless pipes. She had to run about after him, though it was rather undignified. "To find your mother," she coaxed. Now, if Peter had ever quite had a mother, he no longer missed her. He could do very well without one. He had thought them out, and remembered only their bad points. "No, no," he told Wendy decisively; "perhaps she would say I was old, and I just want always to be a little boy and to have fun." 174 PETER AND WENDY "But, Peter " "No." And so the others had to be told. "Peter isn't coming." Peter not coming! They gazed blankly at him, their sticks over their backs, and on each stick a bundle. Their first thought was that if Peter was not going he had probably changed his mind about letting them go. But he was far too proud for that. "If you find your mothers," he said darkly, "I hope you will like them." The awful cynicism of this made an uncom- fortable impression, and most of them began to look rather doubtful. After all, their faces said, were they not noodles to want to go ? "Now then," cried Peter, "no fuss, no blub- bering; good-bye Wendy"; and he held out his hand cheerily, quite as if they must really go now, for he had something important to do. She had to take his hand, as there was no indication that he would prefer a thimble. "You will remember about changing your flannels, Peter?" she said, lingering over him. WENDY'S STORY 175 She was always so particular about their flannels. "Yes." "And you will take your medicine?" "Yes." That seemed to be everything, and an awkward pause followed. Peter, however, was not the kind that breaks down before people. "Are you ready. Tinker Bell ? " he called out. "Ay! ay!" "Then lead the way." Tink darted up the nearest tree; but no one followed her, for it was at this moment that the pirates made their dreadful attack upon the redskins. Above, where all had been so still, the air was rent with shrieks and the clash of steel. Below, there was dead silence. Mouths opened and remained open. Wendy fell on her knees, but her arms were extended toward Peter. All arms were extended to him, as if suddenly blown in his direction; they were beseeching him mutely not to desert them. As for Peter, he seized his sword, the same he thought he had slain Barbecue with, and the lust of battle was in his eye. CHAPTER XII THE CHILDREN ARE CARRIED OF? THE pirate attack had been a complete surprise: a sure proof that the un- scrupulous Hook had conducted it improperly, for to surprise redskins fairly is beyond the wit of the white man. By all the unwritten laws of savage warfare it is always the redskin who attacks, and with the wiliness of his race he does it just before the dawn, at which time he knows the courage of the whites to be at its lowest ebb. The white men have in the meantime made a rude stockade on the summit of yonder undulating ground, at the foot of which a stream runs, for it is destruction to be too far from water. There they await the onslaught, the inexperienced ones clutching their revolvers and treading on twigs, 176 THE CHILDREN CARRIED OFF 177 but the old hands sleeping tranquilly until just before the dawn. Through the long black night the savage scouts wriggle, snake-like, among the grass without stirring a blade. The brushwood closes behind them as silently as sand into which a mole has dived. Not a sound is to be heard, save when they give vent to a wonderful imita- tion of the lonely call of the coyote. The cry is answered by other braves; and some of them do it even better than the coyotes, who are not very good at it. So the chill hours wear on, and the long suspense is horribly trying to the paleface who has to live through it for the first time; but to the trained hand those ghastly calls and still ghastlier silences are but an intimation of how the night is marching. That this was the usual procedure was so well-known to Hook that in disregarding it he cannot be excused on the plea of ignorance. The Piccaninnies, on their part, trusted im- plicitly to his honour, and their whole action of the night stands out in marked contrast to his. They left nothing undone that was consistent with the reputation of their tribe. With that alertness of the senses which is at once the 178 PETER AND WENDY marvel and despair of civilised peoples, they knew that the pirates were on the island from the moment one of them trod on a dry stick; and in an incredibly short space of time the coyote cries began. Every foot of ground between the spot where Hook had landed his forces and the home under the trees was stealthily examined by braves wearing their mocassins with the heels in front. They found only one hillock with a stream at its base, so that Hook had no choice; here he must establish himself and wait for just before the dawn. Everything being thus mapped out with almost diabolical cunning, the main body of the red- skins folded their blankets around them, and in the phlegmatic manner that is to them the pearl of manhood squatted above the children's home, awaiting the cold moment when they should deal pale death. Here dreaming, though wide-awake, of the exquisite tortures to which they were to put him at break of day, those confiding savages were found by the treacherous Hook. From the accounts afterwards supplied by such of the scouts as escaped the carnage, he does not seem THE CHILDREN CARRIED OFF 179 even to have paused at the rising ground, though it is certain that in that grey light he must have seen it: no thought of waiting to be attacked appears from first to last to have visited his subtle mind; he would not even hold off till the night was nearly spent; on he pounded with no policy but to fall to. What could the bewildered scouts do, masters as they were of every war-like artifice save this one, but trot helplessly after him, exposing themselves fatally to view, the while they gave pathetic utterance to the coyote cry. Around the brave Tiger Lily were a dozen of her stoutest warriors, and they suddenly saw the perfidious pirates bearing down upon them. Fell from their eyes then the film through which they had looked at victory. No more would they torture at the stake. For them the happy hunting-grounds now. They knew it; but as their fathers' sons they acquitted themselves. Even then they had time to gather in a phalanx that would have been hard to break had they risen quickly, but this they were forbidden to do by the traditions of their race. It is written that the noble savage must never express sur- 180 PETER AND WENDY prise in the presence of the white. Thus terrible as the sudden appearance of the pirates must have been to them, they remained stationary for a moment, not a muscle moving; as if the foe had come by invitation. Then, indeed, the tradition gallantly upheld, they seized their weapons, and the air was torn with the war-cry; but it was now too late. It is no part of ours to describe what was a massacre rather than a fight. Thus perished many of the flower of the Piccaninny tribe. Not all unavenged did they die, for with Lean Wolf fell Alf Mason, to disturb the Spanish Main no more, and among others who bit the dust were Geo. Scourie, Chas. Turley, and the Alsatian Foggerty. Turley fell to the toma- hawk of the terrible Panther, who ultimately cut a way through the pirates with Tiger Lily and a small remnant of the tribe. To what extent Hook is to blame for his tactics on this occasion is for the historian to decide. Had he waited on the rising ground till the proper hour he and his men would probably have been butchered; and in judging him it is only fair to take this into account. What he THE CHILDREN CARRIED OFF 181 should perhaps have done was to acquaint his opponents that he proposed to follow a new method. On the other hand this, as destroying the element of surprise, would have made his strategy of no avail, so that the whole question is beset with difficulties. One cannot at least withhold a reluctant admiration for the wit that had conceived so bold a scheme, and the fell genius with which it was carried out. What were his own feelings about himself at that triumphant moment.^ Fain would his dogs have known, as breathing heavily and wiping their cutlasses, they gathered at a discreet distance from his hook, and squinted through their ferret eyes at this extraordinary man. Elation must have been in his heart, but his face did not reflect it: ever a dark and solitary enigma, he stood aloof from his followers in spirit as in substance. The night's work was not yet over, for it was not the redskins he had come out to destroy; they were but the bees to be smoked, so that he should get at the honey. It was Pan he wanted. Pan and Wendy and their band, but chiefly Pan. 182 PETER AND WENDY Peter was such a small boy that one tends to wonder at the man's hatred of him. True he had flung Hook's arm to the crocodile, but even this and the increased insecurity of life to which it led, owing to the crocodile's pertinacity, hardly account for a vindictiveness so relentless and malignant. The truth is that there was a some^ thing about Peter which goaded the pirate captain to frenzy. It was not his courage, it was not his engaging appearance, it was not — . There is no beating about the bush, for we know quite well what it was, and have got to tell. It was Peter's cockiness. This had got on Hook's nerves; it made his iron claw twitch, and at night it disturbed him like an insect. While Peter lived, the tortured man felt that he was a lion in a cage into which a sparrow had come. The question now was how to get down the trees, or how to get his dogs down ? He ran his greedy eyes over them, searching for the thinnest ones. They wriggled uncomfortably, for they knew he would not scruple to ram them down with poles. In the meantime, what of the boys? We THE CHILDREN CARRIED OFF 183 have seen them at the first clang of weapons, turned as it were into stone figures, open- mouthed, all appealing with outstretched arms to Peter; and we return to them as their mouths close, and their arms fall to their sides. The pandemonium above has ceased almost as sud- denly as it arose, passed like a fierce gust of wind; but they know that in the passing it has determined their fate. Which side had won ? The pirates, listening avidly at the mouths of the trees, heard the question put by every boy, and alas, they also heard Peter's answer. "If the redskins have won," he said, "they will beat the tom-tom; it is always their sign of victory." Now Smee had found the tom-tom, and was at that moment sitting on it. "You will never hear the tom-tom again," he muttered, but inaudibly of course, for strict silence had been enjoined. To his amazement Hook signed to him to beat the tom-tom, and slowly there came to Smee an understanding of the dreadful wickedness of the order. Never, probably, had this simple man admired Hook so much. 184 PETER AND WENDY Twice Smee beat upon the instrument, and then stopped to listen gleefully. "The tom-tom," the miscreants heard Peter cry; "an Indian victory!" The doomed children answered with a cheer that was music to the black hearts above, and almost immediately they repeated their good- byes to Peter. This puzzled the pirates, but all their other feelings were swallowed by a base delight that the enemy were about to come up the trees. They smirked at each other and rubbed their hands. Rapidly and silently Hook gave liis orders: one man to each tree, and the others to arrange themselves in a line two yards apart. T CHAPTER XIII DO YOU BELIEVE IN FAIRIES? HE more quickly this horror is disposed of the better. The first to emerge from his tree was Curly. He rose out of it into the arms of Cecco, who flung him to Smee, who flung him to Starkey, who flung him to Bill Jukes, who flung him to Noodler, and so he was tossed from one to another till he fell at the feet of the black pirate. All the boys were plucked from their trees in this ruthless manner; and several of them were in the air at a time, like bales of goods flung from hand to hand. A different treatment was accorded to Wendy, who came last. With ironical polite- ness Hook raised his hat to her, and, offering her his arm, escorted her to the spot where the 1S5 186 PETER AND WENDY others were being gagged. He did it with such an air, he was so frightfully distingue, that she was too fascinated to cry out. She was only a little girl. Perhaps it is tell-tale to divulge that for a moment Hook entranced her, and we tell on her only because her slip led to strange results. Had she haughtily unhanded him (and we should have loved to write it of her), she would have been hurled through the air like the others, and then Hook would probably not have been present at the tying of the children; and had he not been at the tying he would not have dis- covered Slightly' s secret, and without the secret he could not presently have made his foul attempt on Peter's life. They were tied to prevent their flying away, doubled up with their knees close to their ears; and for this job the black pirate had cut a rope into nine equal pieces. All went well with the trussing until Slightly's turn came, when he was found to be like those irritating parcels that use up all the string in going round and leave no tags with which to tie a knot. The pirates kicked him in their rage, just as you DO YOU BELIEVE IN FAIRIES? 187 kick the parcel (though in fairness you should kick the string) ; and strange to say it was Hook who told them to belay their violence. His lip was curled with malicious triumph. While his dogs were merely sweating because every time they tried to pack the unhappy lad tight in one part he bulged out in another. Hook's master mind had gone far beneath Slightly' s surface, probing not for effects but for causes; and his exultation showed that he had found them. Slightly, white to the gills, knew that Hook had surprised his secret, which was this, that no boy so blown out could use a tree wherein an average man need stick. Poor Slightly, most wretched of all the children now, for he was in a panic about Peter, bitterly regretted what he had done. Madly addicted to the drinking of water when he was hot, he had swelled in consequence to his present girth, and instead of reducing himself to fit his tree he had, unknown to the others, whittled his tree to make it fit him. Sufficient of this Hook guessed to persuade him that Peter at last lay at his mercy, but no word of the dark design that now formed in 188 PETER AND WENDY the subterranean caverns of his mind crossed his lips; he merely signed that the captives were to be conveyed to the ship, and that he would be alone. How to convey them ? Hunched up in their ropes they might indeed be rolled down hill like barrels, but most of the way lay through a morass. Again Hook's genius surmounted diflSculties. He indicated that the little house must be used as a conveyance. The children were flung into it, four stout pirates raised it on their shoulders, the others fell in behind, and singing the hateful pirate chorus the strange procession set off through the wood. I don't know whether any of the children were crying; if so, the singing drowned the sound; but as the little house disappeared in the forest, a brave though tiny jet of smoke issued from its chim- ney as if defying Hook. Hook saw it, and it did Peter a bad service. It dried up any trickle of pity for him that may have remained in the pirate's infuriated breast. The first thing he did on finding himself alone in the fast falling night was to tiptoe to Slightly' s DO YOU BELIEVE IN FAIRIES? 189 tree, and make sure that it provided him with a passage. Then for long he remained brood- ing; his hat of ill omen on the sward, so that a gentle breeze which had arisen might play refreshingly through his hair. Dark as were his thoughts his blue eyes were as soft as the periwinkle. Intently he listened for any sound from the nether world, but all was as silent below as above; the house under the ground seemed to be but one more empty tenement in the void. Was that boy asleep, or did he stand waiting at the foot of Slightly's tree, with his dagger in his hand ? There was no way of knowing, save by going down. Hook let his cloak slip softly to the ground, and then biting his lips till a lewd blood stood on them, he stepped into the tree. He was a brave man, but for a moment he had to stop there and wipe his brow, which was drip- ping like a candle. Then silently he let himself go into the unknown. He arrived unmolested at the foot of the shaft, and stood still again, biting at his breath, which had almost left him. As his eyes became accustomed to the dim light various objects in 190 PETER AND WENDY the home under the trees took shape; but the only one on which his greedy gaze rested, long sought for and found at last, was the great bed. On the bed lay Peter fast asleep. 1 Unaware of the tragedy being enacted above, Peter had continued, for a little time after the children left, to play gaily on his pipes: no doubt rather a forlorn attempt to prove to him- seK that he did not care. Then he decided not to take his medicine, so as to grieve Wendy. Then he lay down on the bed outside the cover- let, to vex her still more; for she had always tucked them inside it, because you never know that you may not grow chilly at the turn of the night. Then he nearly cried; but it struck him how indignant she would be if he laughed instead; so he laughed a haughty laugh and fell asleep in the middle of it. Sometimes, though not often, he had dreams, and they were more painful than the dreams of other boys. For hours he could not be separated from these dreams, though he wailed piteously in them. They had to do, I think, with the riddle of his existence. At such times it had been Wendy's custom to take him out of bed DO YOU BELIEVE IN FAIRIES? 191 and sit with him on her lap, soothing him in dear ways of her own invention, and when he grew calmer to put him back to bed before he quite woke up, so that he should not know of the indignity to which she had subjected him. But on this occasion he had fallen at once into a dreamless sleep. One arm dropped over the edge of the bed, one leg was arched, and the unfinished part of his laugh was stranded on his mouth, which was open, showing the little pearls. Thus defenceless Hook found him. He stood silent at the foot of the tree looking across the chamber at his enemy. Did no feeling of compassion stir his sombre breast? The man was not wholly evil; he loved flowers (I have been told) and sweet music (he was him- self no mean performer on the harpsichord) ; and, let it be frankly admitted, the idyllic nature of the scene shook him profoundly. Mastered by his better self he would have returned reluctantly up the tree, but for one thing. What stayed him was Peter's impertinent appearance as he slept. The open mouth, the drooping