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    WHAT LUCY SAW  SUSAN and the two boys were bitterly tired with rowing before they rouhe last headland and began the final pull up Glasswater itself, and Lucys head  ached from the long hours of sun and the glare oer. Even Trumpkin longed for the  voyage to be over. The seat on which he sat to steer had been made for men, not Dwarfs,  and his feet did not reach the floor-boards; and everyone knows how unfortable that  is even for

    ten minutes. And as they all grew more tired, their spirits fell. Up till  now the children had only been thinking of how to get to Caspian. Now they wondered what  they would do when they found him, and how a handful of Dwarfs and woodland creatures  could defeat an army of grown-up Humans.

    Twilight was ing on as they rowed slowly up the windings of Glasswater  Creek - a twilight which deepened as the banks drew clether and the  ing trees began almost to meet overhead. It was very quiet in here as the sound of  the sea died away behind them; they could evehe trickle of the little streams  that poured down from the forest i<dfn></dfn>nto Glasswater.

    They went ashore at last, far too tired to attempt lighting a fire; and  even a supper of apples (though most of them felt that they never wao see an apple  again) seemed better than trying to catch or shoot anything. After a little silent  mung they all huddled down together in the moss and dead leaves between four large beech  trees.

    Everyone  except Lucy went to sleep at once. Lucy, being far less tired,  found it hard to get fortable. Also, she had fotten till now that all Dwarfs snore.  She khat one of the best ways of getting to sleep is to st, so she opened her  eyes.

    Through a gap in the bra and branches she could just see a patch of  water in the Creek and the sky above it. Then, with a thrill of memory, she saw again,  after all those years, the bright Narnian stars. She had onown them better thaars of our own world, because as a Queen in Narnia she had goo bed much later than as  a child in England. And there they were - at least, three of the summer stellations  could be seen from where she lay: the Ship, the Hammer, and the Leopard. &quot;Dear old  Leopard,&quot; she murmured happily to herself.

    Instead of getting drowsier she was getting more awake - with an odd,  night-time, dreamish kind of wakefulness. The Creek was growing brighter. She knew now  that then moon was on it, though she couldhe moon. And now she began to feel  that the whole forest was ing awake like herself. Hardly knowing why she did it,  she got up quickly and walked a little distance away from their bivouac.

    &quot;This is lovely,&quot; said Lucy to herself. It was cool and fresh, delicious  smells were floating everywhere.

    Somewhere close by she heard the twitter of a nightingale beginning to  sing, then stopping, then <dfn></dfn>beginning again. It was a little lighter ahead. She went  towards the light and came to a place where there were fewer trees, and whole patches or  pools of moonlight, but the moonlight and the shadows so mixed that you could hardly  be sure where anything was or what it was. At the same moment the nightingale,  satisfied at last with his tuning up, burst into full song.

    Lucys eyes began to grow aced to the light, and she saw the trees  that were  her more distinctly. A great longing for the old days wherees could talk in

    Narnia came over her. She kly how each of these trees would talk  if only she could wake them, and what sort of human form it would put on. She looked at  a silver birch: it would have a soft, showery void would look like a slender  girl, with hair blown all about her face, and fond of dang. She looked at the oak: he  would be a wizened, but hearty old man with a frizzled beard and warts on his fad  hands, and hair growing out of the warts. She looked at the beeder which she was  standing. Ah!

    she would be the best of all. She would be a gracious goddess, smooth and  stately, the lady of the wood.

    &quot;Oh, Trees, Trees, Trees,&quot; said Lucy (though she had not been intending to  speak at all).

    &quot;Oh, Trees, wake, wake, wake. Dont you remember it? Dont you remember me?  Dryads and Hamadryads, e out, e to me.”

    Though there was not a breath of wind they all stirred about her. The  rustling noise of the leaves was almost like words. The nightiopped singing as if to  listen to it.

    Lucy felt that at any moment she would begin to uand what the trees  were trying to say. But the moment did not e. The rustling died away. The nightingale  resumed its song. Even in the moonlight the wood looked more ordinary agai Lucy  had the feeling (as you sometimes have when you are trying to remember a name or a  date and almost get it, but it vanishes before you really do) that she had just  missed something: as if she had spoken to the trees a split sed too soon or a split sed  too late, or used all the right words except one, or put in one word that was just wrong.

    Quite suddenly she began to feel tired. She went back to the bivouac,  snuggled dowween Susan aer, and was asleep in a few minutes.

    It was a cold and cheerless waking for them all  m, with a grey  twilight in the wood (for the sun had not yet risen) and everything damp and dirty.

    &quot;Apples, heigh-ho,&quot; said Trumpkin with a rueful grin. &quot;I must say you  a kings and queens dont overfeed your courtiers!”

    They stood up and shook themselves and looked about. The trees were thick  and they could see no more than a few yards in any dire.

    &quot;I suppose your Majesties know the way all right?&quot; said the Dwarf.

    &quot;I dont,&quot; said Susan. &quot;Ive never seen these woods in my life before. In  fact I thought all along that we ought to have gone by the river.”

    &quot;Then I think you might have said so at the time,&quot; answered Peter, with  pardonable sharpness.

    &quot;Oh, dont take any notice of her,&quot; said Edmund. &quot;She always is a wet  bla. Youve got that pocket pass of yours, Peter, havent you? Well, then, were as  right as rain. Weve

    only got to keep on going north-west - cross that little river, the what- do-you-call-it? - the Rush -”

    &quot;I know,&quot; said Peter. &quot;The ohat joins the big river at the Fords of  Beruna, or Berunas Bridge, as the D.L.F. calls it.”

    &quot;Thats right. Cross it and strike uphill, and well be at the Stoable  (Aslans How, I mean) by eight or nine oclock. I hope King Caspian will give us a good  breakfast!”

    &quot;I hope youre right,&quot; said Susan. &quot;I t remember all that at all.”

    &quot;Thats the worst of girls,&quot; said Edmund to Peter and the Dwarf. &quot;They  never carry a map in their heads.”

    &quot;Thats because our heads have something ihem,&quot; said Lucy.

    At first things seemed to be going pretty well. They even -thought they had  stru old path; but if you know anything about woods, you will know that one is  always finding imaginary paths. They disappear after about five minutes and then you think  you have found another (and hope it is not another<bdi></bdi> but more of the same one) and it  also disappears, and after you have been well lured out of yht dire  you realize that none of them were pats at all. The boys and the Dwarf, however, were used  to woods and were not taken in for more than a few seds.

    They had plodded on for about half an hour (three of them very stiff from  yesterdays rowing) when Trumpkin suddenly whispered, &quot;Stop.&quot; They all stopped.  &quot;Theres something following us,&quot; he said in a low voice. &quot;Or rather, something  keeping up with us: over there on the left.&quot; They all stood still, listening and staring  till their ears and eyes ached. &quot;You and Id better each have an arrow oring,&quot; said Susan to  Trumpkin.

    The Dwarf nodded, and when both bows were ready for a the party went  on again.

    They went a few dozen yards through fairly open woodland, keeping a sharp  look-out.

    Then they came to a place where the undergrowth thied and they had to  pass o it. Just as they were passing the place, there came a sudden something  that snarled and flashed, rising out from the breaking twigs like a thunderbolt. Lucy was  knocked down and winded, hearing the twang of a b as she fell. When she was able  to take notice of things again, she saw a great grim-looking grey bear lying dead  with Trumpkins arrow in its side.

    &quot;The D.L.F. beat you in that shooting match, Su,&quot; said #Peter, with a  slightly forced smile. Even he had been shaken by this adventure.

    &quot;I - I left it too late,&quot; said Susan, in an embarrassed voice. &quot;I was so  afraid it might be, you know - one of our kind of bears, a talking bear.&quot; She hated killing  things.

    &quot;Thats the trouble of it,&quot; said Trumpkin, &quot;when most of the beasts have  gone enemy and gone dumb, but there are still some of the other ki. You never know,  and you darent wait to see.”

    &quot;Poor old Bruin,&quot; said Susan. &quot;You dont think he was?”

    &quot;Not he,&quot; said the Dwarf. &quot;I saw the fad I heard the snarl. He only  wanted Little Girl for his breakfast. And talking of breakfast, I didnt want to disce  your Majesties when you said you hoped King Caspian would give you a good one: but meats  precious scar camp. And theres good eating on a bear. It would be a shame to  leave the carcass without taking a bit, and it wont delay us more than half an hour.  I dare say you two youngsters - Kings, I should say - know how to skin a bear?”

    &quot;Lets go and sit down a fair way off,&quot; said Susan to Lucy. &quot;I know what a  horrid messy busihat will be.&quot; Lucy shuddered and nodded. When they had sat down  she said: &quot;Such a horrible idea has e into my head, Su. “

    &quot;Whats that?”

    &quot;Wouldnt it be dreadful if some day, in our own world, at home, men  started going wild inside, like the animals here, and still looked like men, so that youd  never know which were which?”

    &quot;Weve got enough to bother about here and now in Narnia,&quot; said the  practical Susan, &quot;without imagining things like that.”

    When they rejoihe boys and the Dwarf, as much as they thought they  could carry of the best meat had been cut off. Raw meat is not a hing to fill ones  pockets with, but they folded it up in fresh leaves and made the best of it. They were all  experienced enough to know that they would feel quite differently about these squashy  and unpleasant parcels when they had walked long enough to be really hungry.

    Orudged again (stopping to wash three pairs of hands that   in the first stream they passed) until the sun rose and the birds began to sing, and  more flies than they wanted were buzzing in the bra. The stiffness from yesterdays  rowing began to wear off. Everybodys spirits rose. The sun grew warmer and they took their  helmets off and carried them.

    &quot;I suppose we are going right?&quot; said Edmund about an hour later.

    &quot;I dont see how we  g as long as we dooo much to the  left,&quot; said Peter. &quot;If we bear too much to the right, the worst that  happen is  wasting a little time by striking the great River too soon and not cutting off the er.”

    And agairudged on with no sound except the thud of their feet and  the jingle of their  shirts.

    &quot;Wheres this bally Rush got to?&quot; said Edmund a good deal later.

    &quot;I certainly thought wed have struck it by now,&quot; said Peter. &quot;But theres  nothing to do but keep on.&quot; They both khat the Dwarf was looking anxiously at them, but  he said nothing.

    And still they trudged on and their mail shirts began to feel very hot and  heavy.

    &quot;What oh?&quot; said Peter suddenly.

    They had e, without seeing it, almost to the edge of a small precipice  from which they looked down into a ge with a river at the bottom. On the far side  the cliffs rose much higher. None of the party except Edmund (and perhaps Trumpkin) was a  rock climber.

    &quot;Im sorry,&quot; said Peter. &quot;Its my fault for ing this way. Were lost.  Ive never seen this pla my life before.”

    The Dwarf gave a low whistle between his teeth.

    &quot;Oh, do lets go bad go the other way,&quot; said Susan. &quot;I knew all along  wed get lost in these woods.”

    &quot;Susan!&quot; said Lucy, reproachfully, &quot;dont nag at Peter like that. Its so  rotten, and hes doing all he .”

    &quot;And dont you snap at Su like that, either,&quot; said Edmund. &quot;I think shes  quite right.”

    &quot;Tubs and tortoiseshells!&quot; exclaimed Trumpkin. &quot;If weve got lost ing,  what ce have we of finding our way back? And if were to go back to the Island and  begin all ain - even supposing we could - we might as well give the whole thing up.  Miraz will have finished with Caspian before we get there at that rate.”

    &quot;You think we ought to go on?&quot; said Lucy.

    &quot;Im not sure the High King is lost,&quot; said Trumpkin. &quot;Whats to hihis  river being the Rush?”

    &quot;Because the Rush is not in a ge,&quot; said Peter, keeping his temper with  some difficulty.

    &quot;Your Majesty says is,&quot; replied the Dwarf, &quot;but oughtnt you to say was?  You khis try hundreds - it may be a thousand - years ago. Maynt it have  ged? A landslide might have pulled off half the side of that hill, leaving bare rock, and  there are your precipices beyond the ge. Then the Rush might go on deepening its course  year after

    year till you get the little precipices this side. Or there might have been  ahquake, or anything.”

    &quot;I hought of that,&quot; said Peter.

    &quot;And anyway,&quot; tirumpkin, &quot;even if this is not the Rush, its  flowing roughly north and so it must fall into the Great River anyway. I think I passed  something that might have been it, on my way down. So if we go downstream, tht,  well hit the Great River. Perhaps not so high as wed hoped, but at least well be no  worse off than if youd y way.”

    &quot;Trumpkin, youre a brick,&quot; said Peter. &quot;e on, then. Down this side of  the ge.”

    &quot;Look! Look! Look!&quot; cried Lucy.

    &quot;Where? What?&quot; said everyone.

    &quot;The Lion,&quot; said Lucy. &quot;Aslan himself. Didnt you see?&quot; Her face had  ged pletely and her eyes shone.

    &quot;Do you really mean -?&quot; begaer.

    &quot;Where did you think you saw him?&quot; asked Susan.

    &quot;Dont talk like a grown-up,&quot; said Lucy, stamping her foot. &quot;I didnt think  I saw him. I saw him.”

    &quot;Where, Lu?&quot; asked Peter.

    &quht up there between those mountain ashes. No, this side of the ge.  And up, not down. Just the opposite of the way you want to go. And he wanted us to go  where he was - up there.”

    &quot;How do you know that was what he wanted?&quot; asked Edmund.

    &quot;He - I - I just know,&quot; said Lucy, &quot;by his face.”

    The others all looked at each other in puzzled silence.

    &quot;Her Majesty may well have seen a lion,&quot; put in Trumpkin. &quot;There are lions  in these woods, Ive been told. But it  have <q>..</q>been a friendly and talking lion  any more than the bear was a friendly and talking bear.”

    &quot;Oh, dont be so stupid,&quot; said Lucy. &quot;Do you think I dont know Aslan when  I see him?”

    &quot;Hed be a pretty elderly lion by now,&quot; said Trumpkin, &quot;if hes one you  knew when you were here before! And if it could be the same one, whats to prevent him  having gone wild and witless like so many others?”

    Lucy turned crimson and I think she would have flown at Trumpkin, if Peter  had not laid his hand on her arm. &quot;The D.L.F. doesnt uand. How could he? You must  just take it, Trumpkin, that we do really know about Aslan; a little bit about him, I  mean. And you mustnt talk about him like that again. It isnt lucky for ohing: and  its all nonsense for ahe only question is whether Aslan was really there.”

    &quot;But I know he was,&quot; said Lucy, her eyes filling with tears.

    &quot;Yes, Lu, but we dont, you see,&quot; said Peter.

    &quot;Theres nothing for it but a vote,&quot; said Edmund.

    &quot;All right,&quot; replied Peter. &quot;Youre the eldest, D.L.F. What do you vote  for? Up or down?”

    &quot;Down,&quot; said the Dwarf. &quot;I know nothing about Aslan. But I do know that if  we tur and follow the ge up, it might lead us all day before we found a place  where we could cross it. Whereas if we turn right and go down, were bound to reach the  Great River<cite>?</cite> in about a couple of hours. And if there are any real lions about, we want to  go away from them, not towards them.”

    &quot;What do you say, Susan?”

    &quot;Dont be angry, Lu,&quot; said Susan, &quot;but I do think we should go down. Im  dead tired. Do lets get out of this wretched wood into the open as quick as we . And  none of us except you saw anything.”

    &quot;Edmund?&quot; said Peter.

    &quot;Well, theres just this,&quot; said Edmund, speaking quickly and turning a  little red. &quot;When we first discovered Narnia a year ago - or a thousand years ago, whichever  it is - it was Lucy who discovered it first and none of us would believe her. I was the  worst of the lot, I know. Yet she was right after all. Wouldnt it be fair to believe her  this time? I vote foing up.”

    &quot;Oh, Ed!&quot; said Lud seized his hand.

    &quot;And now its your turer,&quot; said Susan, &quot;and I do hope -”

    &quot;Oh, shut up, shut up a a chap think,&quot; interrupted Peter. &quot;Id much  rather not have to vote. “

    &quot;Youre the High King,&quot; said Trumpkin sternly.

    &quot;Down,&quot; said Peter after a long pause. &quot;I know Lucy may be right after all,  but I t help it. We must do one or the other.”

    So they set off to their right along the edge, downstream. And Lucy came  last of the party, g bitterly.

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