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SUSANandthetwoboyswerebitterlytiredwithrowingbeforetheyroundedthelastheadlandandbeganthefinalpullupGlasswateritself,andLucy’sheadachedfromthelonghoursofsunandtheglareonthewater.EvenTrumpkinlongedforthevoyagetobeover.Theseatonwhichhesattosteerhadbeenmadeformen,notDwarfs,andhisfeetdidnotreachthefloor-boards;andeveryoneknowshowuncomfortablethatisevenfortenminutes.Andastheyallgrewmoretired,theirspiritsfell.UptillnowthechildrenhadonlybeenthinkingofhowtogettoCaspian.Nowtheywonderedwhattheywoulddowhentheyfoundhim,andhowahandfulofDwarfsandwoodlandcreaturescoulddefeatanarmyofgrown-upHumans.
TwilightwascomingonastheyrowedslowlyupthewindingsofGlasswaterCreek-atwilightwhichdeepenedasthebanksdrewclosertogetherandtheoverhangingtreesbeganalmosttomeetoverhead.Itwasveryquietinhereasthesoundoftheseadiedawaybehindthem;theycouldevenhearthetrickleofthelittlestreamsthatpoureddownfromtheforestintoGlasswater.
Theywentashoreatlast,fartootiredtoattemptlightingafire;andevenasupperofapples(thoughmostofthemfeltthattheyneverwantedtoseeanappleagain)seemedbetterthantryingtocatchorshootanything.Afteralittlesilentmunchingtheyallhuddleddowntogetherinthemossanddeadleavesbetweenfourlargebeechtrees.
EveryoneexceptLucywenttosleepatonce.Lucy,beingfarlesstired,foundithardtogetcomfortable.Also,shehadforgottentillnowthatallDwarfssnore.Sheknewthatoneofthebestwaysofgettingtosleepistostoptrying,sosheopenedhereyes.ThroughagapinthebrackenandbranchesshecouldjustseeapatchofwaterintheCreekandtheskyaboveit.Then,withathrillofmemory,shesawagain,afterallthoseyears,thebrightNarnianstars.Shehadonceknownthembetterthanthestarsofourownworld,becauseasaQueeninNarniashehadgonetobedmuchlaterthanasachildinEngland.Andtheretheywere—atleast,threeofthesummerconstellationscouldbeseenfromwhereshelay:theShip,theHammer,andtheLeopard.“DearoldLeopard,”shemurmuredhappilytoherself.
Insteadofgettingdrowsiershewasgettingmoreawake—withanodd,night-time,dreamishkindofwakefulness.TheCreekwasgrowingbrighter.Sheknewnowthatthenmoonwasonit,thoughshecouldn’tseethemoon.Andnowshebegantofeelthatthewholeforestwascomingawakelikeherself.Hardlyknowingwhyshedidit,shegotupquicklyandwalkedalittledistanceawayfromtheirbivouac.
“Thisislovely,”saidLucytoherself.Itwascoolandfresh,delicioussmellswerefloatingeverywhere.Somewhereclosebysheheardthetwitterofanightingalebeginningtosing,thenstopping,thenbeginningagain.Itwasalittlelighterahead.Shewenttowardsthelightandcametoaplacewheretherewerefewertrees,andwholepatchesorpoolsofmoonlight,butthemoonlightandtheshadowssomixedthatyoucouldhardlybesurewhereanythingwasorwhatitwas.Atthesamemomentthenightingale,satisfiedatlastwithhistuningup,burstintofullsong.
Lucy’seyesbegantogrowaccustomedtothelight,andshesawthetreesthatwerenearesthermoredistinctly.AgreatlongingfortheolddayswhenthetreescouldtalkinNarniacameoverher.Sheknewexactlyhoweachofthesetreeswouldtalkifonlyshecouldwakethem,andwhatsortofhumanformitwouldputon.Shelookedatasilverbirch:itwouldhaveasoft,showeryvoiceandwouldlooklikeaslendergirl,withhairblownallaboutherface,andfondofdancing.Shelookedattheoak:hewouldbeawizened,butheartyoldmanwithafrizzledbeardandwartsonhisfaceandhands,andhairgrowingoutofthewarts.Shelookedatthebeechunderwhichshewasstanding.Ah!—shewouldbethebestofall.Shewouldbeagraciousgoddess,smoothandstately,theladyofthewood.
“Oh,Trees,Trees,Trees,”saidLucy(thoughshehadnotbeenintendingtospeakatall).“Oh,Trees,wake,wake,wake.Don’tyourememberit?Don’tyourememberme?DryadsandHamadryads,comeout,cometome.”
Thoughtherewasnotabreathofwindtheyallstirredabouther.Therustlingnoiseoftheleaveswasalmostlikewords.Thenightingalestoppedsingingasiftolistentoit.Lucyfeltthatatanymomentshewouldbegintounderstandwhatthetreesweretryingtosay.Butthemomentdidnotcome.Therustlingdiedaway.Thenightingaleresumeditssong.Eveninthemoonlightthewoodlookedmoreordinaryagain.YetLucyhadthefeeling(asyousometimeshavewhenyouaretryingtorememberanameoradateandalmostgetit,butitvanishesbeforeyoureallydo)thatshehadjustmissedsomething:asifshehadspokentothetreesasplitsecondtoosoonorasplitsecondtoolate,orusedalltherightwordsexceptone,orputinonewordthatwasjustwrong.
Quitesuddenlyshebegantofeeltired.Shewentbacktothebivouac,snuggleddownbetweenSusanandPeter,andwasasleepinafewminutes.
Itwasacoldandcheerlesswakingforthemallnextmorning,withagreytwilightinthewood(forthesunhadnotyetrisen)andeverythingdampanddirty.
“Apples,heigh-ho,”saidTrumpkinwitharuefulgrin.“Imustsayyouancientkingsandqueensdon’toverfeedyourcourtiers!”
Theystoodupandshookthemselvesandlookedabout.Thetreeswerethickandtheycouldseenomorethanafewyardsinanydirection.
“IsupposeyourMajestiesknowthewayallright?”saidtheDwarf.
“Idon’t,”saidSusan.“I’veneverseenthesewoodsinmylifebefore.InfactIthoughtallalongthatweoughttohavegonebytheriver.”
“ThenIthinkyoumighthavesaidsoatthetime,”answeredPeter,withpardonablesharpness.
“Oh,don’ttakeanynoticeofher,”saidEdmund.“Shealwaysisawetblanket.You’vegotthatpocketcompassofyours,Peter,haven’tyou?Well,then,we’reasrightasrain.We’veonlygottokeepongoingnorthwest—crossthatlittleriver,thewhat-do-you-call-it?—theRush—”
“Iknow,”saidPeter.“TheonethatjoinsthebigriverattheFordsofBeruna,orBeruna’sBridge,astheD.L.F.callsit.”
“That’sright.Crossitandstrikeuphill,andwe’llbeattheStoneTable(Aslan’sHow,Imean)byeightornineo’clock.IhopeKingCaspianwillgiveusagoodbreakfast!”
“Ihopeyou’reright,”saidSusan.“Ican’trememberallthatatall.”
“That’stheworstofgirls,”saidEdmundtoPeterandtheDwarf.“Theynevercarryamapintheirheads.”
“That’sbecauseourheadshavesomethinginsidethem,”saidLucy.
Atfirstthingsseemedtobegoingprettywell.Theyeventhoughttheyhadstruckanoldpath;butifyouknowanythingaboutwoods,youwillknowthatoneisalwaysfindingimaginarypaths.Theydisappearafteraboutfiveminutesandthenyouthinkyouhavefoundanother(andhopeitisnotanotherbutmoreofthesameone)anditalsodisappears,andafteryouhavebeenwellluredoutofyourrightdirectionyourealizethatnoneofthemwerepatsatall.TheboysandtheDwarf,however,wereusedtowoodsandwerenottakeninformorethanafewseconds.
Theyhadploddedonforabouthalfanhour(threeofthemverystifffromyesterday’srowing)whenTrumpkinsuddenlywhispered,“Stop.”Theyallstopped.“there’ssomethingfollowingus,”hesaidinalowvoice.“Orrather,somethingkeepingupwithus:overthereontheleft.”Theyallstoodstill,listeningandstaringtilltheirearsandeyesached.“YouandI’dbettereachhaveanarrowonthestring,”saidSusantoTrumpkin.TheDwarfnodded,andwhenbothbowswerereadyforactionthepartywentonagain.
Theywentafewdozenyardsthroughfairlyopenwoodland,keepingasharplook-out.Thentheycametoaplacewheretheundergrowththickenedandtheyhadtopassnearertoit.Justastheywerepassingtheplace,therecameasuddensomethingthatsnarledandflashed,risingoutfromthebreakingtwigslikeathunderbolt.Lucywasknockeddownandwinded,hearingthetwangofabowstringasshefell.Whenshewasabletotakenoticeofthingsagain,shesawagreatgrim-lookinggreybearlyingdeadwithTrumpkin’sarrowinitsside.
“TheD.L.F.beatyouinthatshootingmatch,Su,”saidPeter,withaslightlyforcedsmile.Evenhehadbeenshakenbythisadventure.
“I—Ileftittoolate,”saidSusan,inanembarrassedvoice.“Iwassoafraiditmightbe,youknow—oneofourkindofbears,atalkingbear.”Shehatedkillingthings.
“That’sthetroubleofit,”saidTrumpkin,“whenmostofthebeastshavegoneenemyandgonedumb,buttherearestillsomeoftheotherkindleft.Youneverknow,andyoudaren’twaittosee.”
“PooroldBruin,”saidSusan.“Youdon’tthinkhewas?”
“Nothe,”saidtheDwarf.“IsawthefaceandIheardthesnarl.HeonlywantedLittleGirlforhisbreakfast.Andtalkingofbreakfast,Ididn’twanttodiscourageyourMajestieswhenyousaidyouhopedKingCaspianwouldgiveyouagoodone:butmeat’spreciousscarceincamp.Andthere’sgoodeatingonabear.Itwouldbeashametoleavethecarcasswithouttakingabit,anditwon’tdelayusmorethanhalfanhour.Idaresayyoutwoyoungsters—Kings,Ishouldsay—knowhowtoskinabear?”
“Let’sgoandsitdownafairwayoff,”saidSusantoLucy.“Iknowwhatahorridmessybusinessthatwillbe.”Lucyshudderedandnodded.Whentheyhadsatdownshesaid:“Suchahorribleideahascomeintomyhead,Su.”
“What’sthat?”
“Wouldn’titbedreadfulifsomedayinourownworld,athome,menstartedgoingwildinside,liketheanimalshere,andstilllookedlikemen,sothatyou’dneverknowwhichwerewhich?”
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