CHAPTER TWELVE STRAWBERRY’S ADVENTURE

DIGORY kept his mouth very tight shut．He had been growing more and more uncomfortable．He hoped that，whatever happened，he wouldn’t blub or do anything ridiculous．

“Son of Adam，”said Aslan．“Are you ready to undo the wrong that you have done to my sweet country of Narnia on the very day of its birth ？”

“Well，I don’t see what I can do，”said Digory．“You see， the Queen ran away and-”

“I asked，are you ready ？”said the Lion．

“Yes，”said Digory．He had had for a second some wild idea of saying“I’ll try to help you if you’ll promise to help my Mother，”but he realized in time that the Lion was not at all the sort of person one could try to make bargains with．But when he had said“Yes，”he thought of his Mother，and he thought of the great hopes he had had，and how they were all dying away，and a lump came in his throat and tears in his eyes，and he blurted out：“But please，please-won’t you-can’t you give me something that will cure Mother ？”Up till then he had been looking at the Lion’s great feet and the huge claws on them；now，in his despair，he looked up at its face．What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life．For the tawny face was bent down near his own and（wonder of wonders）great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes．They were such big，bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself．

“My son，my son，”said Aslan．“I know．Grief is great． Only you and I in this land know that yet．Let us be good to one another．But I have to think of hundreds of years in the life of Narnia．The Witch whom you have brought into this world will come back to Narnia again．But it need not be yet．It is my wish to plant in Narnia a tree that she will not dare to approach，and that tree will protect Narnia from her for many years．So this land shall have a long，bright morning before any clouds come over the sun． You must get me the seed from which that tree is to grow．”

“Yes，sir，”said Digory．He didn’t know how it was to be done but he felt quite sure now that he would be able to do it．The Lion drew a deep breath，stooped its head even lower and gave him a Lion’s kiss．And at once Digory felt that new strength and courage had gone into him．

“Dear son，”said Aslan，“I will tell you what you must do． Turn and look to the West and tell me what do you see ？”

“I see terribly big mountains，Aslan，”said Digory，“I see this river coming down cliffs in a waterfall．And beyond the cliff there are high green hills with forests．And beyond those there are higher ranges that look almost black．And then，far away，there are big snowy mountains all heaped up together-like pictures of the Alps． And behind those there’s nothing but the sky．”

“You see well，”said the Lion．“Now the land of Narnia ends where the waterfall comes down，and once you have reached the top of the cliffs you will be out of Narnia and into the Western Wild．You must journey through those mountains till you find a green valley with a blue lake in it，walled round by mountains of ice．At the end of the lake there is a steep，green hill．On the top of that hill there is a garden．In the centre of that garden is a tree．Pluck an apple from that tree and bring it back to me．”

“Yes，sir，”said Digory again．He hadn’t the least idea of how he was to climb the cliff and find his way among all the mountains，but he didn’t like to say that for fear it would sound like making excuses．But he did say，“I hope，Aslan，you’re not in a hurry．I shan’t be able to get there and back very quickly．”

“Little son of Adam，you shall have help，”said Aslan．He then turned to the Horse who had been standing quietly beside them all this time，swishing his tail to keep the flies off，and listening with his head on one side as if the conversation were a little difficult to understand．

“My dear，”said Aslan to the Horse，“would you like to be a winged horse ？”

You should have seen how the Horse shook its mane and how its nostrils widened，and the little tap it gave the ground with one back hoof．Clearly it would very much like to be a winged horse． But it only said：

“If you wish，Aslan-if you really mean-I don’t know why it should be me-I’m not a very clever horse．”

“Be winged．Be the father of all flying horses，”roared Aslan in a voice that shook the ground．“Your name is Fledge．”

The horse shied，just as it might have shied in the old， miserable days when it pulled a hansom．Then it roared．It strained its neck back as if there were a fly biting its shoulders and it wanted to scratch them．And then，just as the beasts had burst out of the earth，there burst out from the shoulders of Fledge wings that spread and grew，larger than eagles’，larger than swans’， larger than angels’ wings in church windows．The feathers shone chestnut colour and copper colour．He gave a great sweep with them and leaped into the air．Twenty feet above Aslan and Digory he snorted，neighed，and curvetted．Then，after circling once round them，he dropped to the earth，all four hoofs together， looking awkward and surprised，but extremely pleased．