t out. She was saying that she thought she could get well
again if children believed in fairies.

Peter flung out his arms. There were no children there, and it was night
time; but he addressed all who might be dreaming of the Neverland, and
who were therefore nearer to him than you think: boys and girls in their
nighties, and naked papooses in their baskets hung from trees.

"Do you believe?" he cried.

Tink sat up in bed almost briskly to listen to her fate.

She fancied she heard answers in the affirmative, and then again she
wasn't sure.

"What do you think?" she asked Peter.

"If you believe," he shouted to them, "clap your hands; don't let Tink
die."

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 like 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 [belted] 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 [expert]. 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 [cut a mark in] the
trees, for instance, Curly would drop seeds, and Wendy would leave her
han