CHAPTER TEN THE RETURN OF THE LION（第2/4页）

“Quick！ Quick！ Get back！ Crawl！”panted Trumpkin．

They turned and wriggled along uphill，under the bracken amid clouds of horribly buzzing flies．Arrows whizzed round them.

One struck Susan’s helmet with a sharp ping and glanced off．They crawled quicker．Sweat poured off them．Then they ran，stooping nearly double．The boys held their swords in their hands for fear they would trip them up．

It was heart-breaking work—all uphill again，back over the ground they had already travelled．When they felt that they really couldn’t run any more，even to save their lives，they all dropped down in the damp moss beside a waterfall and behind a big boulder，panting．They were surprised to see how high they had already got．

They listened intently and heard no sound of pursuit．

“So that’s all right，”said Trumpkin，drawing a deep breath.“They’re not searching the wood．Only sentries，I expect．But it means that Miraz has an outpost down there．Bottles and battledores！ though，it was a near thing．”

“I ought to have my head smacked for bringing us this way at all，”said Peter．

“On the contrary，your Majesty，”said the Dwarf．“For one thing it wasn’t you，it was your royal brother，King Edmund，who first suggested going by Glasswater．”

“I’m afraid the D．L．F．’s right，”said Edmund，who had quite honestly forgotten this ever since things began going wrong．

“And for another，”continued Trumpkin，“if we’d gone my way，we’d have walked straight into that new outpost，most likely; or at least had just the same trouble avoiding it．I think this Glasswater route has turned out for the best．”

“A blessing in disguise，”said Susan．

“Some disguise！”said Edmund．

“I suppose we’l l have to go right up the gorge again now，”said Lucy.

“Lu，you’re a hero，”said Peter．“That’s the nearest you’ve got today to saying I told you so．Let’s get on．”

“And as soon as we’re well up into the forest，”said Trumpkin，

“whatever anyone says，I’m going to light a fire and cook supper.But we must get well away from here．”

There is no need to describe how they toiled back up the gorge．It was pretty hard work，but oddly enough everyone felt more cheerful．They were getting their second wind; and the word supper had had a wonderful effect．

They reached the fir wood which had caused them so much trouble while it was still daylight，and bivouacked in a hollow just above it．It was tedious gathering the firewood; but it was grand when the fire blazed up and they began producing the damp and smeary parcels of bear-meat which would have been so very unattractive to anyone who had spent the day indoors．The Dwarf had splendid ideas about cookery．Each apple (they still had a few of these) was wrapped up in bear’s meat—as if it was to be apple dumpling with meat instead of pastry，only much thicker—and spiked on a sharp stick and then roasted．And the juice of the apple worked all through the meat，like apple sauce with roast pork．Bear that has lived too much on other animals is not very nice，but bear that has had plenty of honey and fruit is excellent，and this turned out to be that sort of bear．It was a truly glorious meal．And，of course，no washing up—only lying back and watching the smoke from Trumpkin’s pipe and stretching one’s tired legs and chatting．Everyone felt quite hopeful now about finding King Caspian tomorrow and defeating Miraz in a few days．It may not have been sensible of them to feel like this，but they did．

They dropped off to sleep one by one，but all pretty quickly．

Lucy woke out of the deepest sleep you can imagine，with the feeling that the voice she liked best in the world had been calling her name．She thought at first it was her father’s voice，but that did not seem quite right．Then she thought it was Peter’s voice，but that did not seem to fit either．She did not want to get up; not because she was still tired—on the contrary she was wonderfully rested and all the aches had gone from her bones-but because she felt so extremely happy and comfortable．She was looking straight up at the Narnian moon，which is larger than ours，and at the starry sky，for the place where they had bivouacked was comparatively open．

“Lucy，”came the call again，neither her father’s voice nor Peter’s．She sat up，trembling with excitement but not with fear．The moon was so bright that the whole forest landscape around her was almost as clear as day，though it looked wilder．Behind her was the fir wood; away to her right the jagged cliff-tops on the far side of the gorge; straight ahead，open grass to where a glade of trees began about a bow-shot away．Lucy looked very hard at the trees of that glade．

“Why，I do believe they’re moving，”she said to herself．“They’re walking about．”