chater ix the ele that lived hidg (第3/4页)
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Up till now neither Caspian nor the others had really been thinking of a war．They had some vague idea，perhaps，of an occasional raid on some Human farmstead or of attacking a party of hunters，if it ventured too far into these southern wilds．But，in the main，they had thought only of living to themselves in woods and caves and building up an attempt at Old Narnia in hiding．As soon as Glenstorm had spoken everyone felt much more serious．
“Do you mean a real war to drive Miraz out of Narnia？”asked Caspian.
“What else？”said the Centaur．“Why else does your Majesty go clad in mail and girt with sword？”
“Is it possible，Glenstorm？”said the Badger．
“The time is ripe，”said Glenstorm．“I watch the skies，Badger，for it is mine to watch，as it is yours to remember．Tarva and Alambil have met in the halls of high heaven，and on earth a son of Adam has once more arisen to rule and name the creatures．The hour has struck．Our council at the Dancing Lawn must be a council of war．”He spoke in such a voice that neither Caspian nor the others hesitated for a moment: it now seemed to them quite possible that they might win a war and quite certain that they must wage one．
As it was now past the middle of the day，they rested with the Centaurs and ate such food as the centaurs provided—cakes of oaten meal，and apples，and herbs，and wine，and cheese．
The next place they were to visit was quite near at hand，but they had to go a long way round in order to avoid a region in which Men lived．It was well into the afternoon before they found themselves in level fields，warm between hedgerows．There Trufflehunter called at the mouth of a little hole in a green bank and out popped the last thing Caspian expected—a Talking Mouse．He was of course bigger than a common mouse，well over a foot high when he stood on his hind legs，and with ears nearly as long as though broader than a rabbit’s．His name was Reepicheep and he was a gay and martial mouse．He wore a tiny little rapier at his side and twirled his long whiskers as if they were a moustache．“There are twelve of us，Sire，”he said with a dashing and graceful bow，“and I place all the resources of my people unreservedly at your Majesty’s disposal．”Caspian tried hard and successfully not to laugh，but he couldn’t help thinking that Reepicheep and all his people could very easily be put in a washing basket and carried home on one’s back．
It would take too long to mention all the creatures whom Caspian met that day—Clodsley Shovel the Mole，the three Hardbiters who were badgers like Trufflehunter，Camillo the Hare，and Hogglestock the Hedgehog．They rested at last beside a well at the edge of a wide and level circle of grass，bordered with tall elms which now threw long shadows across it，for the sun was setting，the daisies closing，and the rooks flying home to bed．Here they supped on food they had brought with them and Trumpkin lit his pipe Nikabrik was not a smoker．
“Now，”said the Badger，“if only we could wake the spirits of these trees and this well，we should have done a good day’s work．”
