CHAPTER ELEVEN THE LION ROARS（第2/4页）

Half—way down the path Edmund caught up with her．

“Look！”he said in great excitement．“Look！ What’s that shadow crawling down in front of us？”

“It’s his shadow，”said Lucy．

“I do believe you’re right，Lu，”said Edmund．“I can’t think how I didn’t see it before．But where is he？”

“With his shadow，of course．Can’t you see him？”

“Well，I almost thought I did-for a moment．It’s such a rum light．”

“Get on，King Edmund，get on，”came Trumpkin’s voice from behind and above: and then，farther behind and still nearly at the top，Peter’s voice saying，“Oh，buck up，Susan．Give me your hand．Why，a baby could get down here．And do stop grousing．”

In a few minutes they were at the bottom and the roaring of water filled their ears．Treading delicately，like a cat，Aslan stepped from stone to stone across the stream．In the middle he stopped，bent down to drink，and as he raised his shaggy head，dripping from the water，he turned to face them again．This time Edmund saw him．“Oh，Aslan！”he cried，darting forward．But the Lion whisked round and began padding up the slope on the far side of the Rush．

“Peter，Peter，”cried Edmund．“Did you see？”

“I saw something，”said Peter．“But it’s so tricky in this moonlight．On we go，though，and three cheers for Lucy．I don’t feel half so tired now，either．”

Aslan without hesitation led them to their left，farther up the gorge．The whole journey was odd and dream—like the roaring stream，the wet grey grass，the glimmering cliffs which they were approaching，and always the glorious，silently pacing Beast ahead．Everyone except Susan and the Dwarf could see him now．

Presently they came to another steep path，up the face of the farther precipices．These were far higher than the ones they had just descended，and the journey up them was a long and tedious zig-zag．Fortunately the Moon shone right above the gorge so that neither side was in shadow．

Lucy was nearly blown when the tail and hind legs of Aslan disappeared over the top: but with one last effort she scrambled after him and came out，rather shaky-legged and breathless，on the hill they had been trying to reach ever since they left Glasswater．The long gentle slope (heather and grass and a few very big rocks that shone white in the moonlight) stretched up to where it vanished in a glimmer of trees about half a mile away．She knew it．It was the hill of the Stone Table:

With a jingling of mail the others climbed up behind her．

Aslan glided on before them and they walked after him．

“Lucy，”said Susan in a very small voice．

“Yes？”said Lucy．

“I see him now．I’m sorry．”

“That’s all right．”

“But I’ve been far worse than you know．I really believed it was him—he，I mean—yesterday．When he warned us not to go down to the fir wood．And I really believed it was him tonight，when you woke us up．I mean，deep down inside．Or I could have，if I’d let myself．But I just wanted to get out of the woods and—and—oh，I don’t know．And what ever am I to say to him？”

“Perhaps you won’t need to say much，”suggested Lucy．

Soon they reached the trees and through them the children could see the Great Mound，Aslan’s How，which had been raised over the Table since their days．

“Our side don’t keep very good watch，”muttered Trumpkin．“We ought to have been challenged before now—”

“Hush！”said the other four，for now Aslan had stopped and turned and stood facing them，looking so majestic that they felt as glad as anyone can who feels afraid，and as afraid as anyone can who feels glad．The boys strode forward: Lucy made way for them: Susan and the Dwarf shrank back．

“Oh，Aslan，”said King Peter，dropping on one knee and raising the Lion’s heavy paw to his face，“I’m so glad．And I’m so sorry．I’ve been leading them wrong ever since we started and especially yesterday morning．”