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. {1}
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 his swarthy face.
Smee had been waiting for it.
"Unrip your plan, captain," he cried eagerly.
"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." {2}
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 when you
Have shaken claws with Hook."
They began the verse, but they never finished it, for another sound broke in and stilled them.
There 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. {3}
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. {4}
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 simultaneously.
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 the terrible attitude, the wolves dropped their tails and fled. {5}
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.
Wendy was now almost overhead, and they could hear her plaintive cry.
But more distinct 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.
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 first to speak. "This is no bird," he said in a scared voice.
"I think this must be a lady."
"A lady?" said Tootles, and fell a-trembling.
"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 crow.
"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.
"Greetings, 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, becoming troubled. "She flew this way."
"Ah me!" once 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 still have hidden her he said, "Back, twins, let Peter see."
