And then they waited for instructions. But the odd thing was that their
uncle waited too. There was this moment's hesitation. They looked to
him. The old fixed habit asserted itself: a grown-up must surely know
more than they did. How could it be otherwise? In this case, however,
the grown-up seemed in doubt. He looked at them. It _was_ otherwise.
"It's so long since I played this kind of hide-and-seek," he murmured.
"I've rather forgotten--"
He stopped short. There certainly was a difficulty. Nobody knew in what
direction to begin.
"It's a snopportunity," exclaimed Judy. "I'm sure of that!"
"We just look--everywhere!" cried Tim.
A light broke over their uncle's face as if a ray of sunshine touched
it. His mind cleared. Some old, forgotten joy, wonderful as the dawn,
burst into his heart, rose to fire in his eyes, flooded his whole
being. A glory long eclipsed, a dream interrupted years ago, an
uncompleted game of earliest youth--all these rose from their
hiding-place and recaptured him, soul and body. He glanced at the
children. These things he had recaptured, they, of course, had never
lost; this state and attitude of wonder was their natural prerogative;
he had recovered the ownership of the world, but they had possessed it
always. They knew the whole business from beginning to end--only they
liked to hear it stated. That was obviously his duty as a grown-up: to
stick the label on.
"Of course," he whispered, deliciously enchanted. "You've got it. It's
_the_ snopportunity! The great thing is to--look."
And, as if to prove him right, a flock of birds passed sweeping through
the air above their heads, paused in mid-flight, wheeled, fluttered
noisily a second, then scattered in all directions like leaves whirled
by an eddy of loose, autumn wind.
"Come on," cried Tim, remembering perhaps the "dodgy" butterfly and
trying to imitate it with his arms and legs. "I know where to go first.
Just follow me!"
"And there'll be signs, remember," Uncle Felix shouted as he followed.
"Whoever finds a sign must let the others know at once."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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