What Happened About the Statues
WHAT an extraordinary place!” cried Lucy. “All those stone animals — and people too! It’s — it’s like a museum.”
“Hush,” said Susan, “Aslan’s doing something.”
He was indeed. He had bounded up to the stone lion and breathed on him. Then without waiting a moment he whisked round — almost as if he had been a cat chasing its tail -and breathed also on the stone dwarf, which (as you remember) was standing a few feet from the lion with his back to it. Then he pounced on a tall stone dryad which stood beyond the dwarf, turned rapidly aside to deal with a stone rabbit on his right, and rushed on to two centaurs. But at that moment Lucy said,
“Oh, Susan! Look! Look at the lion.”
I expect you’ve seen someone put a lighted match to a bit of news- paper which is propped up in a grate against an unlit fire. And for a second nothing seems to have happened; and then you notice a tiny streak of flame creeping along the edge of the newspaper. It was like that now. For a second after Aslan had breathed upon him the stone lion looked just the same. Then a tiny streak of gold began to run along his white marble back then it spread — then the colour seemed to lick all over him as the flame licks all over a bit of paper — then, while his hindquarters were still obviously stone, the lion shook his
mane and all the heavy, stone folds rippled into living hair. Then he opened a great red mouth, warm and living, and gave a prodigious yawn. And now his hind legs had come to life. He lifted one of them and scratched himself. Then, having caught sight of Aslan, he went bounding after him and frisking round him whimpering with delight and jumping up to lick his face.
Of course the children’s eyes turned to follow the lion; but the sight they saw was so wonderful that they soon forgot about him. Everywhere the statues were coming to life. The courtyard looked no longer like a museum; it looked more like a zoo. Creatures were running after Aslan and dancing round him till he was almost hidden in the crowd. Instead of all that deadly white the courtyard was now a blaze of colours; glossy chestnut sides of centaurs, indigo horns of unicorns, dazzling plumage of birds, reddy-brown of foxes, dogs and satyrs, yellow stockings and crimson hoods of dwarfs; and the birch- girls in silver, and the beech-girls in fresh, transparent green, and the larch-girls in green so bright that it was almost yellow. And instead of the deadly silence the whole place rang with the sound of happy roar- ings, brayings, yelpings, barkings, squealings, cooings, neighings, stampings, shouts, hurrahs, songs and laughter.
“Oh!” said Susan in a different tone. “Look! I wonder — I mean, is it safe?”
Lucy looked and saw that Aslan had just breathed on the feet of the stone giant.
“It’s all right!” shouted Aslan joyously. “Once the feet are put right, all the rest of him will follow.”
“That’s not quite what I meant,” Susan whispered to Lucy, but it was too late to change anything now, even if Aslan would have heard her. The transformation had already begun creeping up the Giant’s legs. Soon he started shifting his feet, then lifted his club from his shoulder, rubbed his eyes, and muttered,
“Well, bless me! I must’ve nodded off. Now! Where’s that pesky little Witch who was running about just by my feet?” But once everyone had shouted up to explain what had really happened, and the Giant had cupped his hand to his ear to have them repeat it until he understood, he bowed down, lowering his head to haystack height, and touched his cap repeatedly to Aslan, a broad, cheerful grin spreading across his rough, honest face. (Giants are rare in England, and good-natured ones even rarer, so the sight of a beaming giant is quite a spectacle.)
“Now, let’s see what’s inside this house!” Aslan announced. “Everyone, on your toes. Check upstairs, downstairs, and every chamber. Leave no corner unsearched. We don’t know where a poor prisoner might be hidden.”
And into the castle they rushed, filling the dark, musty halls with the sounds of windows flinging open and voices calling out all at once, “Don’t forget the dungeons—Give us a hand with this door! Here’s another winding stair—Oh, look, a poor kangaroo! Someone fetch Aslan—Good heavens, the smell in here—Watch for trapdoors—Up here! There are loads more on this landing!”
But best of all was when Lucy came bounding up the stairs, shouting,
“Aslan! Aslan! I’ve found Mr Tumnus. Oh, do come quick.”
A moment later Lucy and the little Faun were holding each other by both hands and dancing round and round for joy. The little chap was none the worse for having been a statue and was of course very inter- ested in all she had to tell him.
But at last the ransacking of the Witch’s fortress was ended. The whole castle stood empty with every door and window open and the light and the sweet spring air flooding into all the dark and evil places which needed them so badly. The whole crowd of liberated statues surged back into the courtyard. And it was then that someone (Tumnus, I think) first said,
“But how are we going to get out?” for Aslan had got in by a jump and the gates were still locked.
“That’ll be all right,” said Aslan; and then, rising on his hind-legs, he bawled up at the Giant. “Hi! You up there,” he roared. “What’s your name?”
“Giant Rumblebuffin, if it please your honour,” said the Giant, once more touching his cap.
“Well then, Giant Rumblebuffin,” said Aslan, “just let us out of this, will you?”
“Certainly, your honour. It will be a pleasure,” said Giant Rumblebuffin. “Stand well away from the gates, all you little ‘uns.” Then he strode to
the gate himself and bang — bang — bang — went his huge club. The gates creaked at the first blow, cracked at the second, and shivered at the third. Then he tackled the towers on each side of them and after a few minutes of crashing and thudding both the towers and a good bit of the wall on each side went thundering down in a mass of hopeless rubble; and when the dust cleared it was odd, standing in that dry, grim, stony yard, to see through the gap all the grass and waving trees and sparkling streams of the forest, and the blue hills beyond that and beyond them the sky.
“Blowed if I ain’t all in a muck sweat,” said the Giant, puffing like the largest railway engine. “Comes of being out of condition. I suppose neither of you young ladies has such a thing as a pocket-handkerchee about you?”
“Yes, I have,” said Lucy, standing on tip-toes and holding her hand- kerchief up as far as she could reach.
“Thank you, Missie,” said Giant Rumblebuffin, stooping down. Next moment Lucy got rather a fright for she found herself caught up in mid-air between the Giant’s finger and thumb. But just as she was getting near his face he suddenly started and then put her gently back on the ground muttering, “Bless me! I’ve picked up the little girl instead. I beg your pardon, Missie, I thought you was the hand- kerchee!”
“No, no,” said Lucy laughing, “here it is!” This time he managed to get it but it was only about the same size to him that a saccharine tablet would be to you, so that when she saw him solemnly rubbing it to and fro across his great red face, she said, “I’m afraid it’s not much use to you, Mr Rumblebuffin.”
“Not at all. Not at all,” said the giant politely. “Never met a nicer handkerchee. So fine, so handy. So — I don’t know how to describe it.”
“What a nice giant he is!” said Lucy to Mr Tumnus.
“Oh yes,” replied the Faun. “All the Buffins always were. One of the most respected of all the giant families in Narnia. Not very clever, perhaps (I never knew a giant that was), but an old family. With tradi- tions, you know. If he’d been the other sort she’d never have turned him into stone.”
At this point Aslan clapped his paws together and called for silence. “Our day’s work is not yet over,” he said, “and if the Witch is to be
finally defeated before bed-time we must find the battle at once.” “And join in, I hope, sir!” added the largest of the Centaurs.
“Of course,” said Aslan. “And now! Those who can’t keep up — that is, children, dwarfs, and small animals — must ride on the backs of those who can — that is, lions, centaurs, unicorns, horses, giants and eagles. Those who are good with their noses must come in front with us lions to smell out where the battle is. Look lively and sort your- selves.”
And with a great deal of bustle and cheering they did. The most pleased of the lot was the other lion who kept running about every- where pretending to be very busy but really in order to say to everyone he met. “Did you hear what he said? Us Lions. That means him and me. Us Lions. That’s what I like about Aslan. No side, no stand-off- ishness. Us Lions. That meant him and me.” At least he went on saying this till Aslan had loaded him up with three dwarfs, one dryad, two rabbits, and a hedgehog. That steadied him a bit.
When all were ready (it was a big sheep-dog who actually helped Aslan most in getting them sorted into their proper order) they set out through the gap in the castle wall. At first the lions and dogs went nosing about in all directions. But then suddenly one great hound picked up the scent and gave a bay. There was no time lost after that. Soon all the dogs and lions and wolves and other hunting animals were going at full speed with their noses to the ground, and all the others, streaked out for about half a mile behind them, were following as fast as they could. The noise was like an English fox-hunt only better because every now and then with the music of the hounds was mixed the roar of the other lion and sometimes the far deeper and more awful roar of Aslan himself. Faster and faster they went as the scent became easier and easier to follow. And then, just as they came to the last curve in a narrow, winding valley, Lucy heard above all these noises another noise — a different one, which gave her a queer feeling inside. It was a noise of shouts and shrieks and of the clashing of metal against metal.
Then they came out of the narrow valley and at once she saw the
reason. There stood Peter and Edmund and all the rest of Aslan’s army fighting desperately against the crowd of horrible creatures whom she had seen last night; only now, in the daylight, they looked even stranger and more evil and more deformed. There also seemed
to be far more of them. Peter’s army — which had their backs to her looked terribly few. And there were statues dotted all over the battle- field, so apparently the Witch had been using her wand. But she did not seem to be using it now. She was fighting with her stone knife. It was Peter she was fighting — both of them going at it so hard that Lucy could hardly make out what was happening; she only saw the stone knife and Peter’s sword flashing so quickly that they looked like three knives and three swords. That pair were in the centre. On each side the line stretched out. Horrible things were happening wherever she looked.
“Off my back, children,” shouted Aslan. And they both tumbled off. Then with a roar that shook all Narnia from the western lamp-post to the shores of the eastern sea the great beast flung himself upon the White Witch. Lucy saw her face lifted towards him for one second with an expression of terror and amazement. Then Lion and Witch had rolled over together but with the Witch underneath; and at the same moment all war-like creatures whom Aslan had led from the Witch’s house rushed madly on the enemy lines, dwarfs with their battle-axes, dogs with teeth, the Giant with his club (and his feet also crushed dozens of the foe), unicorns with their horns, centaurs with swords and hoofs. And Peter’s tired army cheered, and the newcomers roared, and the enemy squealed and gibbered till the wood re-echoed with the din of that onset.
