The Hunting Of The White Stag
捕猎白鹿
The battle was all over a few minutes after their arrival. Most of the enemy had been killed in the first charge of Aslan and his companions； and when those who were still living saw that the Witch was dead they either gave themselves up or took flight. The next thing that Lucy knew was that Peter and Aslan were shaking hands. It was strange to her to see Peter looking as he looked now-his face was so pale and stern and he seemed so much older.
“It was all Edmund‘s doing， Aslan，” Peter was saying. “We’d have been beaten if it hadn‘t been for him. The Witch was turning our troops into stone right and left. But nothing would stop him. He fought his way through three ogres to where she was just turning one of your leopards into a statue. And when he reached her he had sense to bring his sword smashing down on her wand instead of trying to go for her directly and simply getting made a statue himself for his pains. That was the mistake all the rest were making. Once her wand was broken we began to have some chance-if we hadn’t lost so manyalready. He was terribly wounded. We must go and see him.”
They found Edmund in charge of Mrs Beaver a little way back from the fighting line. He was covered with blood， his mouth was open， and his face a nasty green colour.
“Quick， Lucy，” said Aslan.
And then， almost for the first time， Lucy remembered the precious cordial that had been given her for a Christmas present. Her hands trembled so much that she could hardly undo the stopper， but she managed it in the end and poured a few drops into her brother‘s mouth. “There are other people wounded，” said Aslan while she was still looking eagerly into Edmund’s pale face and wondering if the cordialwould have any result.
“Yes， I know，” said Lucy crossly. “Wait a minute.”
“Daughter of Eve，” said Aslan in a graver voice， “others also are at the point of death. Must more people die for Edmund？”
“I‘m sorry， Aslan，” said Lucy， getting up and going with him. And for the next half-hour they were busy-she attending to the wounded while he restored those who had been turned into stone. When at last she was free to come back to Edmund she found him standing on his feet and not only healed of his wounds but looking better than she had seen him look-oh， for ages； in fact ever since his first term at that horrid school which was where he had begun to go wrong. He had become his real old self again and could look you in the face. And there on the field of battle Aslan made him a knight.
“Does he know，” whispered Lucy to Susan， “what Aslan did for him？ Does he know what the arrangement with the Witch really was？”
“Hush！ No， of course not，” said Susan. “Oughtn’t he to be told？” said Lucy.
“Oh， surely not，” said Susan. “It would be too awful for him. Think how you‘d feel if you were he.”
“All the same I think he ought to know，” said Lucy. But at that moment they were interrupted.
That night they slept where they were. How Aslan provided food for them all I don’t know； but somehow or other they found themselves all sitting down on the grass to a fine high tea at about eight o‘clock. The next day they began marching eastward down the side of the great river. And the next day after that， at about teatime， they actually reached the mouth. The castle of Cair Paravel on its littlehill towered up above them； before them were the sands， with rocks and little pools of salt water， and seaweed， and the smell of the sea and long miles of bluish-green waves breaking for ever and ever on the beach. And oh， the cry of the seagulls！ Have you heard it？ Can you remember？
That evening after tea the four children all managed to get down to the beach again and get their shoes and stockings off and feel the sand between their toes. But the next day was more solemn. For then， in the Great Hall of Cair Paravel-that wonderful hall with the ivory roof and the west wall hung with peacock’s feathers and the eastern door which looks towards the sea， in the presence of all their friends and to the sound of trumpets， Aslan solemnly crowned them and led them to thefour thrones amid deafening shouts of， “Long Live King Peter！ Long Live Queen Susan！ Long Live King Edmund！ Long Live Queen Lucy！”
“Once a king or queen in Narnia， always a king or queen. Bear it well， Sons of Adam！ Bear it well， Daughters of Eve！” said Aslan.
And through the eastern door， which was wide open， came the voices of the mermen and the mermaids swimming close to the shore and singing in honour of their new Kings and Queens.
So the children sat on their thrones， and sceptres were put into their hands and they gave rewards and honours to all their friends， to Tumnus the Faun， and to the Beavers， and Giant Rumblebuffin， to the leopards， and the good centaurs， and the good dwarfs， and to the lion. And that night there was a great feast in Cair Paravel， and revelry and dancing， and gold flashed and wine flowed， and answering to the music inside， but stranger， sweeter， and more piercing， came the music of the sea people.
But amidst all these rejoicings Aslan himself quietly slipped away. And when the Kings and Queens noticed that he wasn‘t there they said nothing about it. For Mr Beaver had warned them. “He’ll be coming and going，” he had said. “One day you‘ll see him and another you won’t. He doesn‘t like being tied down-and of course he has other countries to attend to. It’s quite all right. He‘ll often drop in. Only you mustn’t press him. He‘s wild，’ you know. Not like a tame lion.”
