‘Well, then, we could go on,’ said John.

‘That is the awful thing, John. We should have to go on, for we don’t know how to stop.’

This was true; Peter had forgotten to show them how to stop.

John said that if the worst came to the worst, all they had to do was to go straight on, for the world was round, and so in time they must come back to their own window.

‘And who is to get food for us, John?’

‘I nipped a bit out of that eagle’s mouth pretty neatly, Wendy.’

‘After the twentieth try,’ Wendy reminded him. ‘And even though we became good at picking up food, see how we bump against clouds and things if he is not near to give us a hand.’

Indeed they were constantly bumping. They could now fly strongly, though they still kicked far too much; but if they saw a cloud in front of them, the more they tried to avoid it, the more certainly did they bump into it. If Nana had been with them, she would have had a bandage round Michael’s forehead by this time.

Peter was not with them for the moment, and they felt rather lonely up there by themselves. He could go so much faster than they that he would suddenly shoot out of sight, to have some adventure in which they had no share. He would come down laughing over something fearfully funny he had been saying to a star, but he had already forgotten what it was, or he would come up with mermaid scales still sticking to him, and yet not be able to say for certain what had been happening. It was really rather irritating to children who had never seen a mermaid.

‘And if he forgets them so quickly,’ Wendy argued, ‘how can we expect that he will go on remembering us?’

Indeed, sometimes when he returned he did not remember them, at least not well. Wendy was sure of it. She saw recognition come into his eyes as he was about to pass them the time of day and go on; once even she had to tell him her name.

‘I’m Wendy,’ she said agitatedly.

He was very sorry. ‘I say, Wendy,’ he whispered to her, ‘always if you see me forgetting you, just keep on saying “I’m Wendy”, and then I’ll remember.’

Of course this was rather unsatisfactory. However, to make amends he showed them how to lie out flat on a strong wind that was going their way, and this was such a pleasant change that they tried it several times and found they could sleep thus with security. Indeed they would have slept longer, but Peter tired quickly of sleeping, and soon he would cry in his captain voice, ‘We get off here.’ So with occasional tiffs, but on the whole rollicking, they drew near the Neverland; for after many moons they did reach it, and, what is more, they had been going pretty straight all the time, not perhaps so much owing to the guidance of Peter or Tink as because the island was out looking for them. It is only thus that anyone may sight those magic shores.

‘There it is,’ said Peter calmly.

‘Where, where?’

‘Where all the arrows are pointing.’

Indeed a million golden arrows were pointing out the island to the children, all directed by their friend the sun, who wanted them to be sure of their way before leaving them for the night.


  By PanEris using Melati.

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