CHAPTER ELEVEN THE LION ROARS（第3/4页）

“My dear son，”said Aslan．

Then he turned and welcomed Edmund．“Well done，”were his words．

Then，after an awful pause，the deep voice said，“Susan．”Susan made no answer but the others thought she was crying．“You have listened to fears，child，”said Aslan．“Come，let me breathe on you．Forget them．Are you brave again？”

“A little，Aslan，”said Susan．

“And now！”said Aslan in a much louder voice with just a hint of roar in it，while his tail lashed his flanks．“And now，where is this little Dwarf，this famous swordsman and archer，who doesn’t believe in lions？ Come here，son of Earth，come HERE！”—and the last word was no longer the hint of a roar but almost the real thing.

“Wraiths and wreckage！”gasped Trumpkin in the ghost of a voice．The children，who knew Aslan well enough to see that he liked the Dwarf very much，were not disturbed; but it was quite another thing for Trumpkin，who had never seen a lion before，let alone this Lion．He did the only sensible thing he could have done; that is，instead of bolting，he tottered toward Aslan．

Aslan pounced．Have you ever seen a very young kitten being carried in the mother cat’s mouth？ It was like that．The Dwarf，hunched up in a little，miserable ball，hung from Aslan’s mouth．The Lion gave him one shake and all his armour rattled like a tinker’s pack and then—heypresto—the Dwarf flew up in the air．He was as safe as if he had been in bed，though he did not feel so．As he came down the huge velvety paws caught him as gently as a mother’s arms and set him (right way up，too) on the ground．

“Son of Earth，shall we be friends？”asked Aslan．

“Ye—he—he—hes，”panted the Dwarf，for it had not yet got its breath back．

“Now，”said Aslan．“The Moon is setting．Look behind you: there is the dawn beginning．We have no time to lose．You three，you sons of Adam and son of Earth，hasten into the Mound and deal with what you will find there．”

The Dwarf was still speechless and neither of the boys dared to ask if Aslan would follow them．All three drew their swords and saluted，then turned and jingled away into the dusk．Lucy noticed that there was no sign of weariness in their faces: both the High King and King Edmund looked more like men than boys．

The girls watched them out of sight，standing close beside Aslan．The light was changing．Low down in the east，Aravir，the morning star of Narnia，gleamed like a little moon．Aslan，who seemed larger than before，lifted his head，shook his mane，and roared．

The sound，deep and throbbing at first like an organ beginning on a low note，rose and became louder，and then far louder again，till the earth and air were shaking with it．It rose up from that hill and floated across all Narnia．Down in Miraz’s camp men woke，stared palely in one another’s faces，and grasped their weapons．Down below that in the Great River，now at its coldest hour，the heads and shoulders of the nymphs，and the great weedy-bearded head of the river-god，rose from the water．Beyond it，in every field and wood，the alert ears of rabbits rose from their holes，the sleepy heads of birds came out from under wings，owls hooted，vixens barked，hedgehogs grunted，the trees stirred．In towns and villages mothers pressed babies close to their breasts，staring with wild eyes，dogs whimpered，and men leaped up groping for lights．Far away on the northern frontier the mountain giants peered from the dark gateways of their castles．

What Lucy and Susan saw was a dark something coming to them from almost every direction across the hills．It looked first like a black mist creeping on the ground，then like the stormy waves of a black sea rising higher and higher as it came on，and then，at last，like what it was—woods on the move．All the trees of the world appeared to be rushing towards Aslan．But as they drew nearer they looked less like trees; and when the whole crowd，bowing and curtsying and waving thin long arms to Aslan，were all around Lucy，she saw that it was a crowd of human shapes．Pale birch-girls were tossing their heads，willowwomen pushed back their hair from their brooding faces to gaze on Aslan，the queenly beeches stood still and adored him，shaggy oak-men，lean and melancholy elms，shock-headed hollies (dark themselves，but their wives all bright with berries) and gay rowans，all bowed and rose again，shouting，“Aslan，Aslan！”in their various husky or creaking or wave-like voices．