y
are on the war-path."

"There, just across the Mysterious River."

"I see now. Yes, they are on the war-path right enough."

Peter was a little annoyed with them for knowing so much, but if he
wanted to lord it over them his triumph was at hand, for have I not told
you that anon fear fell upon them?

It came as the arrows went, leaving the island in gloom.

In the old days at home the Neverland had always begun to look a little
dark and threatening by bedtime. Then unexplored patches arose in it
and spread, black shadows moved about in them, the roar of the beasts of
prey was quite different now, and above all, you lost the certainty that
you would win. You were quite glad that the night-lights were on. You
even liked Nana to say that this was just the mantelpiece over here, and
that the Neverland was all make-believe.

Of course the Neverland had been make-believe in those days, but it
was real now, and there were no night-lights, and it was getting darker
every moment, and where was Nana?

They had been flying apart, but they huddled close to Peter now. His
careless manner had gone at last, his eyes were sparkling, and a tingle
went through them every time they touched his body. They were now over
the fearsome island, flying so low that sometimes a tree grazed their
feet. Nothing horrid was visible in the air, yet their progress had
become slow and laboured, exactly as if they were pushing their way
through hostile forces. Sometimes they hung in the air until Peter had
beaten on it with his fists.

"They don't want us to land," he explained.

"Who are they?" Wendy whispered, shuddering.

But he could not or would not say. Tinker Bell had been asleep on his
shoulder, but now he wakened her and sent her on in front.

Sometimes he poised himself in the air, listening intently, with his
hand to his ear, and again he would stare down with eyes so bright that
they seemed to bore two holes to earth. Having done these things, he
went on again.

His courage was almost appalling. "Would you like an adventure now," he
said casually to John, "or would you like to have your tea first?"

Wendy said "tea first" quickly, and Michael pressed her hand in
gratitude, but the braver John hesitated.

"What kind of adventure?" he asked cautiously.

"There's a pirate asleep in the pampas just beneath us," Peter told him.
"If you like, we'll go down and kill him."

"I don't see him," John said after a long pause.

"I d