C·S·路易斯提示您：看后求收藏（宜小说jmvip2.com），接着再看更方便。
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．”
The children all said it was quite all right and not to mention it．
“And now，”said Peter，“if you’ve really decided to believe in us—”
“I have，”said the Dwarf．
“It’s quite clear what we have to do．We must join King Caspian at once．”
“The sooner the better，”said Trumpkin．“My being such a fool has already wasted about an hour．”
“It’s about two days’journey，the way you came，”said Peter．“For us，I mean．We can’t walk all day and night like you Dwarfs．”Then he turned to the others．“What Trumpkin calls Aslan’s How is obviously the Stone Table itself．You remember it was about half a day’s march，or a little less，from there down to the Fords of Beruna-”
“Beruna’s Bridge，we call it，”said Trumpkin．
“There was no bridge in our time，”said Peter．“And then from Beruna down to here was another day and a bit．We used to get home about teatime on the second day，going easily．Going hard，we could do the whole thing in a day and a half perhaps．”
“But remember it’s all woods now，”said Trumpkin，“and there are enemies to dodge．”
“Look here，”said Edmund，“need we go by the same way that Our Dear Little Friend came？”
“No more of that，your Majesty，if you love me，”said the Dwarf．
“Very well，”said Edmund．“May I say our D．L．F．？”
“Oh，Edmund，”said Susan．“Don’t keep on at him like that．”
“That’s all right，lass—I mean your Majesty，”said Trumpkin with a chuckle．“A jibe won’t raise a blister．”(And after that they often called him the D．L．F．till they’d almost forgotten what it meant．)
“As I was saying，”continued Edmund，“we needn’t go that way．Why shouldn’t we row a little south till we come to Glasswater Creek and row up it？ That brings us up behind the Hill of the Stone Table，and we’ll be safe while we’re at sea．If we start at once，we can be at the head of Glasswater before dark，get a few hours’ sleep，and be with Caspian pretty early tomorrow．”
“What a thing it is to know the coast，”said Trumpkin．“None of us know anything about Glasswater．”
“What about food？”asked Susan．
“Oh，we’ll have to do with apples，”said Lucy．“Do let’s get on．We’ve done nothing yet，and we’ve been here nearly two days．”
“And anyway，no one’s going to have my hat for a fish-basket again，”said Edmund．
They used one of the raincoats as a kind of bag and put a good many apples in it．Then they all had a good long drink at the well (for they would meet no more fresh water till they landed at the head of the Creek) and went down to the boat．The children were sorry to leave Cair Paravel，which，even in ruins，had begun to feel like home again．
“The D．L．F．had better steer，”said Peter，“and Ed and I will take an oar each．Half a moment，though．We’d better take off our mail: we’re going to be pretty warm before we’re done．The girls had better be in the bows and shout directions to the D．L．F．because he doesn’t know the way．You’d better get us a fair way out to sea till we’ve passed the island．”
And soon the green，wooded coast of the island was falling away behind them，and its little bays and headlands were beginning to look flatter，and the boat was rising and falling in the gentle swell．The sea began to grow bigger around them and，in the distance，bluer，but close round the boat it was green and bubbly．Everything smelled salt and there was no noise except the swishing of water and the clop-clop of water against the sides and the splash of the oars and the jolting noise of the rowlocks．The sun grew hot．
It was delightful for Lucy and Susan in the bows，bending over the edge and trying to get their hands in the sea which they could never quite reach．The bottom，mostly pure，pale sand but with occasional patches of purple seaweed，could be seen beneath them．
“It’s like old times，”said Lucy．“Do you remember our voyage to Terebinthia—and Galma—and Seven Isles—and the Lone Islands？”
“Yes，”said Susan，“and our great ship the Splendour Hyaline，with the swan’s head at her prow and the carved swan’ wings coming back almost to her waist？”
“And the silken sails，and the great stern lanterns？”
“And the feasts on the poop and the musicians．”
“Do you remember when we had the musicians up in the rigging playing flutes so that it sounded like music out of the sky？”
Presently Susan took over Edmund’s oar and he came forward to join Lucy．They had passed the island now and stood closer in to the shore—all wooded and deserted．They would have thought it very pretty if they had not remembered the time when it was open and breezy and full of merry friends．
“Phew！ This is pretty gruelling work，”said Peter．“Can’t I row for a bit？”said Lucy．
“The oars are too big for you，”said Peter shortly，not because he was cross but because he had no strength to spare for talking．
