Inafewminutestheywereatthebottomandtheroaringofwaterfilledtheirears.Treadingdelicately,likeacat,Aslansteppedfromstonetostoneacrossthestream.Inthemiddlehestopped,bentdowntodrink,andasheraisedhisshaggyhead,drippingfromthewater,heturnedtofacethemagain.ThistimeEdmundsawhim.“Oh,Aslan!”hecried,dartingforward.ButtheLionwhiskedroundandbeganpaddinguptheslopeonthefarsideoftheRush.
“Peter,Peter,”criedEdmund.“Didyousee?”
“Isawsomething,”saidPeter.“Butit’ssotrickyinthismoonlight.Onwego,though,andthreecheersforLucy.Idon’tfeelhalfsotirednow,either.”
Aslanwithouthesitationledthemtotheirleft,fartherupthegorge.Thewholejourneywasoddanddream—liketheroaringstream,thewetgreygrass,theglimmeringcliffswhichtheywereapproaching,andalwaystheglorious,silentlypacingBeastahead.EveryoneexceptSusanandtheDwarfcouldseehimnow.
Presentlytheycametoanothersteeppath,upthefaceofthefartherprecipices.Thesewerefarhigherthantheonestheyhadjustdescended,andthejourneyupthemwasalongandtediouszig-zag.FortunatelytheMoonshonerightabovethegorgesothatneithersidewasinshadow.
LucywasnearlyblownwhenthetailandhindlegsofAslandisappearedoverthetop:butwithonelasteffortshescrambledafterhimandcameout,rathershaky-leggedandbreathless,onthehilltheyhadbeentryingtoreacheversincetheyleftGlasswater.Thelonggentleslope(heatherandgrassandafewverybigrocksthatshonewhiteinthemoonlight)stretcheduptowhereitvanishedinaglimmeroftreesabouthalfamileaway.Sheknewit.ItwasthehilloftheStoneTable:
Withajinglingofmailtheothersclimbedupbehindher.
Aslanglidedonbeforethemandtheywalkedafterhim.
“Lucy,”saidSusaninaverysmallvoice.
“Yes?”saidLucy.
“Iseehimnow.I’msorry.”
“That’sallright.”
“ButI’vebeenfarworsethanyouknow.Ireallybelieveditwashim—he,Imean—yesterday.Whenhewarnedusnottogodowntothefirwood.AndIreallybelieveditwashimtonight,whenyouwokeusup.Imean,deepdowninside.OrIcouldhave,ifI’dletmyself.ButIjustwantedtogetoutofthewoodsand—and—oh,Idon’tknow.AndwhateveramItosaytohim?”
“Perhapsyouwon’tneedtosaymuch,”suggestedLucy.
SoontheyreachedthetreesandthroughthemthechildrencouldseetheGreatMound,Aslan’sHow,whichhadbeenraisedovertheTablesincetheirdays.
“Oursidedon’tkeepverygoodwatch,”mutteredTrumpkin.“Weoughttohavebeenchallengedbeforenow—”
“Hush!”saidtheotherfour,fornowAslanhadstoppedandturnedandstoodfacingthem,lookingsomajesticthattheyfeltasgladasanyonecanwhofeelsafraid,andasafraidasanyonecanwhofeelsglad.Theboysstrodeforward:Lucymadewayforthem:SusanandtheDwarfshrankback.
“Oh,Aslan,”saidKingPeter,droppingononekneeandraisingtheLion’sheavypawtohisface,“I’msoglad.AndI’msosorry.I’vebeenleadingthemwrongeversincewestartedandespeciallyyesterdaymorning.”
“Mydearson,”saidAslan.
ThenheturnedandwelcomedEdmund.“Welldone,”werehiswords.
Then,afteranawfulpause,thedeepvoicesaid,“Susan.”Susanmadenoanswerbuttheothersthoughtshewascrying.“Youhavelistenedtofears,child,”saidAslan.“Come,letmebreatheonyou.Forgetthem.Areyoubraveagain?”
“Alittle,Aslan,”saidSusan.
“Andnow!”saidAslaninamuchloudervoicewithjustahintofroarinit,whilehistaillashedhisflanks.“Andnow,whereisthislittleDwarf,thisfamousswordsmanandarcher,whodoesn’tbelieveinlions?Comehere,sonofEarth,comeHERE!”—andthelastwordwasnolongerthehintofaroarbutalmosttherealthing。
“Wraithsandwreckage!”gaspedTrumpkinintheghostofavoice.Thechildren,whoknewAslanwellenoughtoseethathelikedtheDwarfverymuch,werenotdisturbed;butitwasquiteanotherthingforTrumpkin,whohadneverseenalionbefore,letalonethisLion.Hedidtheonlysensiblethinghecouldhavedone;thatis,insteadofbolting,hetotteredtowardAslan.
Aslanpounced.Haveyoueverseenaveryyoungkittenbeingcarriedinthemothercat’smouth?Itwaslikethat.TheDwarf,hunchedupinalittle,miserableball,hungfromAslan’smouth.TheLiongavehimoneshakeandallhisarmourrattledlikeatinker’spackandthen—heypresto—theDwarfflewupintheair.Hewasassafeasifhehadbeeninbed,thoughhedidnotfeelso.Ashecamedownthehugevelvetypawscaughthimasgentlyasamother’sarmsandsethim(rightwayup,too)ontheground.