CHAPTER EIGHT HOW THEY LEFT THE ISLAND（第3/5页）

“Not hurt，I hope，my dear little friend？”said Edmund，panting a little and returning his own sword to its sheath．

“I see the point，”said Trumpkin drily．“You know a trick I never learned．”

“That’s quite true，”put in Peter．“The best swordsman in the world may be disarmed by a trick that’s new to him．I think it’s only fair to give Trumpkin a chance at something else．Will you have a shooting match with my sister？ There are no tricks in archery，you know．”

“Ah，you’re jokers，you are，”said the Dwarf．“I begin to see．As if I didn’t know how she can shoot，after what happened this morning．All the same，I’ll have a try．”He spoke gruffly，but his eyes brightened，for he was a famous bowman among his own people．

All five of them came out into the courtyard．

“What’s to be the target？”asked Peter．

“I think that apple hanging over the wall on the branch there would do，”said Susan．

“That’ll do nicely，lass，”said Trumpkin．“You mean the yellow one near the middle of the arch？”

“No，not that，”said Susan．“The red one up above—over the battlement．”

The Dwarf’s face fell．“Looks more like a cherry than an apple，”he muttered，but he said nothing out loud．

They tossed up for first shot (greatly to the interest of Trumpkin，who had never seen a coin tossed before) and Susan lost．They were to shoot from the top of the steps that led from the hall into the courtyard．Everyone could see from the way the Dwarf took his position and handled his bow that he knew what he was about．

Twang went the string．It was an excellent shot．The tiny apple shook as the arrow passed，and a leaf came fluttering down．Then Susan went to the top of the steps and strung her bow．She was not enjoying her match half so much as Edmund had enjoyed his; not because she had any doubt about hitting the apple but because Susan was so tender-hearted that she almost hated to beat someone who had been beaten already．The Dwarf watched her keenly as she drew the shaft to her ear．A moment later，with a little soft thump which they could all hear in that quiet place，the apple fell to the grass with Susan’s arrow in it．

“Oh，well done，Su，”shouted the other children．

“It wasn’t really any better than yours，”said Susan to the Dwarf．“I think there was a tiny breath of wind as you shot．”

“No，there wasn’t，”said Trumpkin．“Don’t tell me．I know when I am fairly beaten．I won’t even say that the scar of my last wound catches me a bit when I get my arm well back—”

“Oh，are you wounded？”asked Lucy．“Do let me look．”

“It’s not a sight for little girls，”began Trumpkin，but then he suddenly checked himself．“There I go talking like a fool again，”he said“I suppose you’re as likely to be a great surgeon as your brother was to be a great swordsman or your sister to be a great archer．”He sat down on the steps and took off his hauberk and slipped down his little shirt，showing an arm hairy and muscular (in proportion) as a sailor’s though not much bigger than a child’s．There was a clumsy bandage on the shoulder which Lucy proceeded to unroll．Underneath，the cut looked very nasty and there was a good deal of swelling．“Oh，poor Trumpkin，”said Lucy．“How horrid．”Then she carefully dripped on to it one single drop of the cordial from her flask．

“Hullo．Eh？ What have you done？”said Trumpkin．But however he turned his head and squinted and whisked his beard to and fro，he couldn’t quite see his own shoulder．Then he felt it as well as he could，getting his arms and fingers into very difficult positions as you do when you’re trying to scratch a place that is just out of reach．Then he swung his arm and raised it and tried the muscles，and finally jumped to his feet crying，“Giants and junipers！ It’s cured！It’s as good as new．”After that he burst into a great laugh and said，“Well，I’ve made as big a fool of myself as ever a Dwarf did．No offence，I hope？ My humble duty to your Majesties all—humble duty．And thanks for my life，my cure，my breakfast—and my lesson．”