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.