“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 towards 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.
