Chapter 10 Chapter Ten: The Hermit in the Southern Expedition

After they had rode through the valley for several hours, the valley opened up and they could see what lay ahead.The river by which they had come all the way joined here a wider and raging river which flowed from their left to their right, rushing eastward.Behind this new great river stretched a fair and pleasant country, with hills rising gradually, and ridge after ridge, leading to the mountains of the north.On the right there are several pinnacles, two or three of which still have snow on their overhangs.On the left, pine-covered slopes, frowning cliffs, narrow valleys, and blue peaks stretch as far as the eye can see.They don't recognize Pierre anymore.Straight ahead the mountains sank into a wooded saddle which must have been the pass from Archenland into Narnia.

"Bro-ho ho, north, green north," Bree hissed.Both Aravis and Shasta's eyes had been trained in the South, so that the low hills seemed greener and fresher than anything they had ever imagined in their lives.When they clattered to the confluence of the two rivers, they got excited. The big river flowing to the east poured down from the high mountain at the west end. It rushed too fast and was interrupted by too many rapids. Find a shallow place to wade across.The sound of splashing water, the whirlpool rushing on the hair of the horse's hooves, the cool and turbulent air, and the flying dragonflies all filled Shasta's heart with novel excitement.

"We're in Archenland, my friends!" said Bree proudly, splashing and staggering up the north bank. "I think the river we've just crossed is called the Arrow." "I hope we got there in time," murmured Hwin. So they began to climb up, going very slowly and windingly, because the hill was very steep.It was empty, park-like country, with no roads or houses in sight.There are sparse and bright trees everywhere, but they are never so dense that they form a forest.Shasta had always lived in a meadow with hardly any trees, and he had never seen so many trees, so many kinds of trees, and if you were there, you might know (he didn't) that he was See oaks, beeches, birches, rowan, chestnut trees.As they advanced, hares scuttled in all directions, and soon they saw a large herd of yellow-brown deer escaping from between the trees.

"It's really beautiful!" said Aravis. When he came to the first ridge, Shasta turned around on the saddle and looked back. Tashbaan had disappeared; It's just a narrow green crack that came over. "Hello!" he said suddenly, "what's that?" "What?" said Bree, and he turned to look.Hwin and Aravis also turned around. "That," said Shasta, pointing his finger, "it looks like a cloud of smoke. Is it a big fire?" "As far as I'm concerned, it's a sandstorm," Bree said. "The wind is not strong enough to cause a sandstorm," Aravis said.

"Ah!" cried Hwin. "Look! Something's shining in it. Look! It's a steel helmet—armour. And it's moving this way." "God Tash!" said Aravis, "this is the army. This is Rabadash." "Of course it's Rabadash's army," Hwin said, "that's exactly what I'm worried about. Quick! We must get to Anwad before the army." Hwin turned around without saying a word, and started Gallop north.Bree shook his head, and also galloped north. "Come on, Bree, come on," Aravis called back. For the horses, this is an extremely tense race.When they reached the top of each ridge, they always found that there was still a valley or ridge ahead. Although they knew that they were going in roughly the right direction, they didn't know how far they were from Anwad.Shasta looked back on the second ridge, and what he saw now was not a puff of dust rising from the great desert, but a mass of dark, ant-like things, which were called "circling" Arrows squirmed on the banks of the river.No doubt they were looking for a place to wade through.

"They're at the river!" he cried frantically. "Quick! Quick!" cried Aravis. "If we don't get to Anwald in time, we haven't come at all. Run, Bree, run. Remember, you're a warhorse. " All Shasta could do was to restrain himself from calling out such instructions, thinking to himself "The poor fellow has given all his strength," but he said nothing.And these two horses thought they were doing their best, if not doing their best--the two were not the same thing.Bree had caught up to Hwin, and they rumbled through the grass neck and neck.It seemed impossible for Hwin to persist like this for much longer.

At this critical moment, everyone's feelings were completely changed by the roar behind them.It was not the sound they had expected—the clatter of horseshoes and the clang of armor, or the Calormenes' shouts of challenge.But Shasta recognized at once what it was.It was the same roar they had heard when they first met Aravis and Hwin on a moonlit night.Bree understood immediately, too.Its eyes were bright, and its ears were flattened back on its head.Only then did Bree realize that it wasn't really running as fast as it could -- not very fast.Now I can really run with all my strength.In seconds, it was much better than Hwin.

"It's not going well," thought Shasta, "I thought it was safer here from the lions!" He turned to look.Everything can be seen clearly.A large tawny animal, hanging low to the ground, was trailing behind them, like a cat galloping across the grass to jump up a tree when a strange dog breaks into the garden.In the blink of an eye, the animal was getting closer and closer. He looked ahead and saw things he hadn't noticed or even expected.Their path was blocked by a level green wall ten feet high.There is a gate in the middle of the wall, and the hole is open.Inside the door stood a tall man, barefoot and wearing a robe the color of autumn leaves, leaning on a straight walking stick.His beard was long, falling almost to his knees.

Shasta saw all this at a glance, and he looked back again.The lion was almost on hold of Hwin now.The lion was pouncing on Hwin's hind legs, and Hwin's sweat-stained, wide-eyed face was already looking desperate. "Stop," Shasta yelled in Bree's ear, "must go back. must save lives!" Bree always said afterward that he never heard it, or never understood it; and as a rule he was a very faithful horse, and we had to take his word for it. Shasta took both feet out of the stirrups, hesitated for a frightful hundredth of a second, and jumped off the horse on the left.He was badly wounded, nearly dodging, but before he could figure out what it was, he staggered back to save Aravis.He had never done anything like it in his life, and now he didn't know why he did it.

The most terrifying sound in the world, the whine of a horse, burst from Hwin's mouth.Aravis was bending over Hwin's neck, as if trying to draw his knife.Now the three of them—Alaves, Hwen and the Lion—were almost over Shasta's head.Before they were near him, the lion rose on its hind legs (it was so huge that you could hardly believe it), stretched out its right paw on its front leg, and swooped at Aravis.Shasta could see all the outstretched claws.Aravis screamed and swayed in the saddle.The lion is pulling at her shoulders.Shasta, half mad with fright, managed to throw himself at the beast.He had no weapons, not even a stick or a stone.He yelled foolishly at the lion as one yells at a dog. "Go home! Go home!" For a fraction of a second he stared at the wide, fierce lion's mouth.Then, to his astonishment, the Lion, which was still standing on its hind legs, suddenly restrained itself, became bowed to the ground, raised itself up, and hurried away.

For a moment Shasta thought that the Lion had not really gone away.He turned and ran towards the green wall, now for the first time he remembered seeing it.Hwin, staggering and half fainting, had just entered the gate; Aravis was still in the saddle, but her back was covered in blood. "Come in, my daughter, come in." said the bearded old man in the robe.As Shasta ran towards him out of breath, he said again, "Come in, my son." Shasta heard the gate close behind him, and the bearded stranger was already helping Aravis dismount. . They were in a large circular enclosure, protected by a high green wall of turf.In front of them was a pool of muddy, perfectly calm water, almost level with the ground.On the other side of the pool grew the largest and most beautiful trees that Shasta had ever seen, and shaded the pool with their foliage.Behind the pond was a low, small stone house with a thick and old thatched roof.There was also the bleating of sheep, and some goats were on the far side of the paddock.The flat ground is covered with delicious green grass. "Are you—" asked Shasta breathlessly, "are you King Runn of Archenland?" The old man shook his head. "No," he answered, in a soft voice, "I am the Hermit of the South. Listen, my son, don't waste your time asking, do as I tell you. The lady is wounded. Your horses are exhausted. .Rabadash has now found a place on the Whirling Arrow River where he can wade. If you run away now without resting for a moment, you will still have time to call the police to King Renn." Shasta's heart was half cold when he heard this, for he felt that his strength was exhausted and there was nothing left.He was troubled, and felt that what was being asked of him seemed too cruel and unfair.He has not yet learned that if you do one good thing, you are often rewarded with another, harder and nobler thing.But Shasta just asked aloud:+ "Where is the king?" The hermit turned away, and pointed with his stick. "Look," said he, "there's another door, opposite the one you came in. Open that door, and go straight. Always go straight, over flat or steep, through dry Or damp places. I reckon by my spells that if you go straight ahead, you will find King Lunn. But you will run, and run, and always run." Shasta nodded, ran to the north door, and disappeared outside. The hermit, who had been supporting Aravis with his left arm, half-armed and half-pulled her into the stone house.After a long time, he came out of the stone house again. "Oh, boys," he said to the horse, "it's your turn now." Before they could reply—in fact, they were too tired to speak—he took the bridle and saddle off them, and massaged the two horses vigorously. The whole body of a horse is not massaged so well even by the servants in the king's stable. "Listen, boys," he said, "forget all that, take it easy. Here's water, there's grass. When I've milked my other boys—the goats— You've got hot feed to eat." "Sir," said Hwin, who had recovered his breath at last, "is Tekshina's life in danger? Did the lion kill her?" "I know much of the present by my spell," replied the hermit, smiling, "and of the future I have no way of knowing. Whether any man, woman, or animal in the whole world will live when the sun goes down tonight, I know." I don't know. But you have to hope. The lady may live a long time, and live to the end of her life." When Aravis woke up, she found that she was lying prone on a particularly soft bed. There was nothing in the room, and the stone walls were uncarved and rough.She didn't understand why she was arranged to lie on her stomach; but when she tried to turn over and felt her whole back was hot and painful, she remembered and understood why she had to be on her stomach.She wondered what snug and springy material the bed was made of, for it was made of heath grass (the best bedding) of which she had never seen or heard . The door opened and the hermit entered, holding a large wooden bowl.After carefully putting down the bowl, he came to the bed and asked: "My daughter, what do you think of yourself?" "Father, my back hurts," Aravis said, "but nothing else." He knelt by the bed, pressed his hand on her forehead, and gave her pulse. "No fever," he said, "and you'll be all right. In fact, you're supposed to be up tomorrow. But drink this now." He picked up the wooden bowl and brought it to her lips.She couldn't help grimacing as she drank it, for goat's milk is always scary when you're not used to it.She was very thirsty, and managed to drink the whole bowl of goat's milk, and when she was done, she felt much better. "Listen, daughter, you may sleep when you feel like it," said the hermit, "for your wound is washed, medicated, and bound, and though it hurts, it is no worse than a whiplash. It must be A very strange lion, it didn't bite you into your flesh with its teeth, and took you out of the saddle, just scratched your back with its paws. Ten scars, painful, but not deep, not dangerous .” "Hi!" said Aravis, "I'm lucky!" "Daughter," said the hermit, "I have lived a hundred and nine years in this world, and I have never come across anything resembling luck. There is something in all this that I do not understand, but if we If you really need to figure it out, you may as well believe that we will figure it out." "What about Rabadash and his two hundred men?" asked Aravis. "They won't go this way, I think," said the hermit. "They must have found a place to ford by now, far to the east of us. From there they will try to go straight to Anwad." "Poor Shasta!" said Aravis. "He has a long way to go? Will he reach Anwad first?" "There is great hope," said the old man. Aravis lay down again (on her side this time), and she said, "Have I been sleeping for a long time? It seems to be getting dark." The hermit looked out of the only window—the one facing north. "It is not the darkness of the night," he said at once. "The clouds come rushing down from Tempest Peak, from which the bad weather in our parts begins. There will be thick fog tonight." The next day Aravis felt well except for the pain in her back, so that after breakfast (of porridge and cream) the hermit said she could get up.Of course, she immediately went to talk to the two horses.The weather turned fine, and the whole paddock was like a huge green cup filled with sunlight.It was a very peaceful place, lonely and peaceful. Hwin immediately trotted over and gave her a horse's kiss. After checking each other's health and sleep, Aravis said, "Where's Kebri?" "Over there," Hwin said, pointing his nose at the other side of the circle, "I want you to come and talk to him; he's a little moody and I can't get a word out of him Come." They walked over slowly and found that the cloth was lying on the wall inside. Although it clearly heard them coming, it didn't turn around or say a word at all. "Good morning, Bree," said Aravis, "how are you this morning?" Bree murmured, but no one could understand. "The hermit says that Shasta may have reached King Lunn in time," continued Aravis, "so it seems all our troubles are over. Narnia at last, Bree!" "I shall never see Narnia again," said Bree in a low voice. "Are you not well, my dear Bree?" said Aravis. Bree turned at last, and he had the sad look on his face that only a horse can do. "I'm going back to Calormen," it said. "What?" said Aravis. "Go back to slavery?" "Yes," said Bree, "I am fit only for slavery. What face should I go to the free horses of Narnia? I, leave a mare, a girl, a boy, and let them go He was eaten by a lion, but he ran away with all his strength in order to survive!" "We are all running as fast as we can," Hwin said. "Shasta didn't run away!" snorted Bree, "at least he galloped in the right direction. He ran back. That's what shames me most. I, calling myself a war-horse, boast After a lot of fighting, but being compared to a brat—a child, but a colt, who has never held a sword in his life, nor has he received any good education or seen any model?" "I see," said Aravis, "I feel the same way. Shasta is great. I'm as bad as you, Bree. I've been snubbing him and despising him since you met us, He's the best of us now. But I think it's better to stay and apologize than to go back to Calormen." "It's all right for you," said Bree, "you haven't disgraced yourself. "I lost everything." "My good horse," said the hermit, whose stealth came unnoticed, for his bare feet made no sound on the sweet-smelling dewy grass, "my good horse, you are nothing but pompous. Nothing is missing. No, no, my old chap. Don't put your ears back on me, and don't shake your hair. If you're really as humble as you said a minute ago, then you should Hear the voice of reason. You have lived among poor dumb horses and thought you were a great horse; but you are not. Of course, you are braver and wiser than them. You can't help being a better horse than them But that doesn't extend to what kind of exceptional horse you're going to be in Narnia. However, as long as you realize you're not exceptional, then, on balance, you're pretty much one of a kind Pretty good horse. Now, if you and my other old four-legged fellow will go around the kitchen door, we'll see the other half of the feed."