chater ne what cy aw (第3/10页)
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“I hope you’re right，”said Susan．“I can’t remember all that at all．”
“That’s the worst of girls，”said Edmund to Peter and the Dwarf．“They never carry a map in their heads．”
“That’s because our heads have something inside them，”said Lucy.
At first things seemed to be going pretty well．They even thought they had struck an old path; but if you know anything about woods，you will know that one is always finding imaginary paths．They disappear after about five minutes and then you think you have found another and hope it is not another but more of the same one and it also disappears，and after you have been well lured out of your right direction you realize that none of them were pats at all．The boys and the Dwarf，however，were used to woods and were not taken in for more than a few seconds．
They had plodded on for about half an hour three of them very stiff from yesterday’s rowing when Trumpkin suddenly whispered，“Stop．”They all stopped．“there’s something following us，”he said in a low voice．“Or rather，something keeping up with us: over there on the left．”They all stood still，listening and staring till their ears and eyes ached．“You and I’d better each have an arrow on the string，”said Susan to Trumpkin．The Dwarf nodded，and when both bows were ready for action the party went on again．
They went a few dozen yards through fairly open woodland，keeping a sharp look-out．Then they came to a place where the undergrowth thickened and they had to pass nearer to it．Just as they were passing the place，there came a sudden something that snarled and flashed，rising out from the breaking twigs like a thunderbolt．Lucy was knocked down and winded，hearing the twang of a bowstring as she fell．When she was able to take notice of things again，she saw a great grim-looking grey bear lying dead with Trumpkin’s arrow in its side．
“TheD．L．F．beat you in that shooting match，Su，”said Peter，with a slightly forced smile．Even he had been shaken by this adventure．
“I—I left it too late，”said Susan，in an embarrassed voice．“I was so afraid it might be，you know—one of our kind of bears，a talking bear．”She hated killing things．
“That’s the trouble of it，”said Trumpkin，“when most of the beasts have gone enemy and gone dumb，but there are still some of the other kind left．You never know，and you daren’t wait to see．”
“Poor old Bruin，”said Susan．“You don’t think he was？”
