Many clapped.
Some didn t.
A few beasts hissed.
The clapping stopped suddenly; as if countless mothers had rushed to
their nurseries to see what on earth was happening; but already Tink
was saved. First her voice grew strong, then she popped out of bed,
then she was flashing through the room more merry and impudent than
ever. She never thought of thanking those who believed, but she would
have liked to get at the ones who had hissed.
And now to rescue Wendy!
The moon was riding in a cloudy heaven when Peter rose from his tree,
begirt with weapons and wearing little else, to set out upon his
perilous quest. It was not such a night as he would have chosen. He had
hoped to fly, keeping not far from the ground so that nothing unwonted
should escape his eyes; but in that fitful light to have flown low
would have meant trailing his shadow through the trees, thus disturbing
birds and acquainting a watchful foe that he was astir.
He regretted now that he had given the birds of the island such strange
names that they are very wild and difficult of approach.
There was no other course but to press forward in redskin fashion, at
which happily he was an adept. But in what direction, for he could not
be sure that the children had been taken to the ship? A light fall of
snow had obliterated all footmarks; and a deathly silence pervaded the
island, as if for a space Nature stood still in horror of the recent
carnage. He had taught the children something of the forest lore that
he had himself learned from Tiger Lily and Tinker Bell, and knew that
in their dire hour they were not likely to forget it. Slightly, if he
had an opportunity, would blaze the trees, for instance, Curly would
drop seeds, and Wendy would leave her handkerchief at some important
place. The morning was needed to search for such guidance, and he could
not wait. The upper world had called him, but would give no help.
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