PART IV THE UNDERGROUND HOME
The days passed merrily in the underground home, where Wendy was thesweetest little mother, and Peter the bravest father you could everhave found anywhere. The cave was large and roomy, and the rocks outof which it was hollowed were of a deep brown colour. There was a finelarge fireplace, and overhead, near the ceiling, were hung baskets andfishing-tackle and all sorts of things likely to be useful tocave-dwellers.
Wendy had not been long there before she had improved the home andmade it as comfortable as her own nursery. It is wonderful whatclever girls can do, even with the poorest materials. There was now ahuge bed for all the Boys, and a basket for Michael, because he wasthe littlest and because a cradle is such a homely thing to have aboutthe house. And in a corner of the room, hidden behind a tiny crimsoncurtain, there was a wee little room for Tinker Bell, daintilyfurnished to suit the tastes of girl fairy. There were stools made ofmushrooms for the Boys, and two comfortable chairs made of pumpkins,where Peter and Wendy could sit in state, as was fitting the fatherand mother of the little family.
One Saturday night, Wendy and the Boys were all downstairs together,waiting for Peter to come back from a hunting expedition. Outside, thefaithful Tiger Lily and her Red Indian band were keeping guard againstthe Pirates.
Presently the crackling of branches indicated Peter's approach throughthe underwood. Tiger Lily sprang up to meet him, and the Lost Boys ranto the tree-trunk stairways to welcome him on his return. He was thebest of fathers; and never forgot to be a little boy, for he hadfilled his pockets with fruit for the boys who had been good, and helet them rummage through and through his coat like rats in a cornsack.
Then he turned towards Wendy, who was very busy mending the children'ssocks by the fireside. She looked very charming in her pretty brownfrock the colour of autumn leaves, with scarlet berries in her hair,and she made Peter very happy as they exchanged thimbles and talkedover the boys and their doings as if they had really been their fatherand mother. When the children clamoured for a dance, Peter even saidthat he was too old for such a game, and that his old bones wouldsimply rattle, and Wendy also thought that the mother of such anarmful could not go skipping about with her children. So Peter sang"Sally in our Alley," which song Wendy thought no one else in all theworld could sing so sweetly as the darling of her heart, while theothers danced pillow dances, and bolster dances, and turnedsomersaults on the beds, and did all the other jolly and lively thingsthat everyone wants to do just about bedtime, when one ought to bethinking of going to sleep.
At last they quietened down for Wendy to tell them just one more storybefore they were tucked in for the night. They clustered eagerlyround, interrupting every sentence, as children always do, even thebest of them, while Wendy told her story. And the story somehow seemedfamiliar to John, and Michael, and Peter, for it was the tale of Mr.and Mrs. Darling, poor dears, who had lost their children one winternight; and how sad they were about it, how lonely they felt, and howthe nursery window would always be kept open, ready for the children,if ever they should come flying home again.
When she had finished, Peter stood up sadly. "No, Wendy," he said, "Ithought so once, but you cannot be sure that the window will be keptopen. When I went back to my mother, the window was barred, and therewas another little boy sleeping in my cradle." At that thought, Wendystarted up with a look of horror in her face: "Perhaps by this time,Mother may be in half-mourning," she exclaimed, and John and Michaelfelt they dared not stay another moment in the Never-Never-Never Land.
What would they do if they were too late in coming back, and foundother children in their beds, other children being bathed and dressedby Nana? They must go home at once.
The Boys crowded round Wendy, imploring her not to leave them, but shewas firm. Not only would she return with John and Michael, but shewould take all the Boys with her, for her mother to adopt. The Boys,as soon as they heard themselves invited to come too, were as happy aslarks. For now each of them would have a true mother in Mrs. Darling,and would live in a house like other boys. In a moment they werepacking their baby clothes, and were ready to start on their journey.
Peter alone refused. He was miserable at the thought of losing Wendy,but he couldn't consent to grow old and have a beard, as he knew hemust do if he left the Never-Never-Never Land. Never, never, could hedo that! There was nothing for him, then, but to stay behind. Wendywas as careful as a little mother in pouring out Peter's medicine, andmade him promise faithfully to take it every night.
But suddenly there was a stamping overhead, and banging and aclashing, and a shouting, and a sound of heavy people wrestling andstruggling to and fro. The Pirates had taken the Red Indians bysurprise. The children heard the fighting, and listened like mice tothe squalling of cats, as frightened as could be, while Peter waitedwith his sword. The battle was very soon over. The Redskins werebeaten and ran like hares, or crawled dangerously wounded into thethickets. The triumphant Pirates were left victorious, though a littleout of breath, close above the children's heads.
Hook, their captain, more wicked-looking than ever, listened at themushroom chimney. "If the Indians have won," Peter was saying,"they'll beat the tom-tom."
"Aha!" thought Hook, and he picked up a tom-tom that one of the flyingIndians had left behind, and sounded it loudly; "rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub,dub, dub, dub."
"Hurrah!" shouted the children down below. "An Indian victory!"
"All will be safe," said Peter. "You may go now! Tink will show youthe way," and bidding a hurried good-bye to Peter, away they allwent up the stairways in the tree-trunks, out into the forest.
The Pirates were ready for them. As each child came above the ground,he was seized by one of the swarthy ruffians who stood waiting. One byone, and silently, they were captured and flung into boats andtransported to the pirate ship, which had anchored in the lake closeby.
SEIZED BY ONE OF THE SWARTHY RUFFIANS]
Everything had been done so quietly that Peter was quite unaware ofhis friends' sad fate. He only knew that he was all alone, that Wendyhad left him, and that she, and Michael, and John, and all the LostBoys who had been his companions were on their way from theNever-Never-Never Land to the country of the ordinary people who weartall hats and tail-coats as soon as they are old enough, and grow upone after the other. Poor Peter threw himself on his bed and sobbedhimself to sleep.
Hook was still lurking about, for the one thing that annoyed him mostwas that Peter had not left the cave with the rest, and was as yetsafe.
But in his wicked heart a wicked scheme had already risen by which hehoped to kill his enemy. He had carefully listened to Wendy's lastwords: "Be sure and take your medicine, Peter." Here was the Captain'slast chance. Creeping down to the door of the cave, he stretched hislong arm round the ledge just inside, and poured a few drops of deadlypoison into the glass, and, with a grin of triumph on his ugly face,he threw his cloak over his shoulder and stole away.
"Tap, tap, tap." Somebody was knocking at the door. "Who's there?"asked Peter sleepily.
"Tap, tap, tap."
He got up and opened the door. Tinker Bell, tinkling excitedly, flewinto the room. "The Pirates have captured them!" she tinkled, "thePirates have captured them!" As Peter excitedly snatched up his swordand sharpened it very sharply on the grindstone, he perceived TinkerBell in his glass of medicine. He soon learnt the reason, when hislittle fairy told him, in a weak voice, that it was poisoned, and thatshe had drunk the poison as the only way to save his life. It wasindeed an act of self-sacrifice; for too well did Tink know how muchPeter loved Wendy, and that no warning of hers would prevent him fromkeeping his promise.
Poor Tinker Bell was dying, and die she would have done were it notthat Peter, in a frenzy of grief and with tears in his eyes, made thispassionate appeal to all children: "Do you believe in fairies? If youdo, clap your hands, and that will save poor Tinker Bell." As his cryrang round the world, there came an echo of sound as of millions oflittle hands clapping, as if all the chi
ldren throughout the worldknew suddenly that of course they believed in fairies.
The result was magical. Tinker Bell was saved; her light, which hadbeen getting fainter and fainter, grew brighter and brighter again;the merry sound of tinkling (her way of speaking to Peter) which hadalmost become inaudible, now grew stronger and stronger. She was oncemore the bright little fairy that escorted Peter to the Darlingnursery, and again, under her guidance, Peter set forth to rescue theBoys and Wendy.
HE PERCEIVED TINKER BELL IN HIS GLASS.]
The Story of Peter Pan, Retold from the fairy play by Sir James Barrie Page 4