It was of course the Lion’s voice. The children had long felt sure that he could speak: yet it was a lovely and terrible shock when he did.

Out of the trees wild people stepped forth, gods and goddesses of the wood; with them came Fauns and Satyrs and Dwarfs. Out of the river rose the river god with his Naiad daughters. And all these and all the beasts and birds in their different voices, low or high or thick or clear, replied:

“Hail, Aslan. We hear and obey. We are awake. We love. We think. We speak. We know.”

“But please, we don’t know very much yet,” said a nosey and snorty kind of voice. And that really did make the children jump, for it was the cab-horse who had spoken.

“Good old Strawberry,” said Polly. “I am glad he was one of the ones picked out to be a Talking Beast.” And the Cabby, who was now standing beside the children, said, “Strike me pink. I always did say that ’oss ’ad a lot of sense, though.”

“Creatures, I give you yourselves,” said the strong, happy voice of Aslan. “I give to you forever this land of Narnia. I give you the woods, the fruits, the rivers. I give you the stars and I give you myself. The Dumb Beasts whom I have not chosen are yours also. Treat them gently and cherish them but do not go back to their ways lest you cease to be Talking Beasts. For out of them you were taken and into them you can return. Do not so.”

“No, Aslan, we won’t, we won’t,” said everyone. But one perky jackdaw added in a loud voice, “No fear!” and everyone else had finished just before he said it so that his words came out quite clear in a dead silence; and perhaps you have found out how awful that can be—say, at a party. The Jackdaw became so embarrassed that it hid its head under its wings as if it was going to sleep. And all the other animals began making various queer noises which are their ways of laughing and which, of course, no one has ever heard in our world. They tried at first to repress it, but Aslan said:

“Laugh and fear not, creatures. Now that you are no longer dumb and witless, you need not always be grave. For jokes as well as justice come in with speech.”

So they all let themselves go. And there was such merriment that the Jackdaw himself plucked up courage again and perched on the cab-horse’s head, between its ears, clapping its wings, and said:

“Aslan! Aslan! Have I made the first joke? Will everybody always be told how I made the first joke?”

“No, little friend,” said the Lion. “You have not made the first joke; you have only been the first joke.” Then everyone laughed more than ever; but the Jackdaw didn’t mind and laughed just as loud till the horse shook its head and the Jackdaw lost its balance and fell off, but remembered its wings (they were still new to it) before it reached the ground.

“And now,” said Aslan, “Narnia is established. We must next take thought for keeping it safe. I will call some of you to my council. Come hither to me, you the chief Dwarf, and you the River-god, and you Oak and the He-Owl, and both the Ravens and the Bull-Elephant. We must talk together. For though the world is not five hours old an evil has already entered it.”

The creatures he had named came forward and he turned away eastward with them. The others all began talking, saying things like “What did he say had entered the world?—A Neevil—What’s a Neevil?—No, he didn’t say a Neevil, he said a weevil—Well, what’s that?”

“Look here,” said Digory to Polly, “I’ve got to go after him—Aslan, I mean, the Lion. I must speak to him.”

“Do you think we can?” said Polly. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“I’ve got to,” said Digory. “It’s about Mother. If anyone could give me something that would do her good, it would be him.”

“I’ll come along with you,” said the Cabby. “I liked the looks of ’im. And I don’t reckon these other beasts will go for us. And I want a word with old Strawberry.”

So all three of them stepped out boldly—or as boldly as they could—toward the assembly of animals. The creatures were so busy talking to one another and making friends that they didn’t notice the three humans until they were very close; nor did they hear Uncle Andrew, who was standing trembling in his buttoned boots a good way off and shouting (but by no means at the top of his voice).

“Digory! Come back! Come back at once when you’re told. I forbid you to go a step further.”

When at last they were right in among the animals, the animals all stopped talking and stared at them.

“Well?” said the He-Beaver at last, “what, in the name of Aslan, are these?”

“Please,” began Digory in rather a breathless voice, when a Rabbit said. “They’re a kind of large lettuce, that’s my belief.”

“No, we’re not, honestly we’re not,” said Polly hastily. “We’re not at all nice to eat.”

“There!” said the Mole. “They can talk. Who ever heard of a talking lettuce?”

“Perhaps they’re the Second joke,” suggested the Jackdaw.

A Panther, which had been washing its face, stopped for a moment to say, “Well, if they are, they’re nothing like so good as the first one. At least, 1 don’t see anything very funny about them.” It yawned and went on with its wash.

“Oh, please,” said Digory. “I’m in such a hurry. I want to see the Lion.”

All this time the Cabby had been trying to catch Strawberry’s eye. Now he did. “Now, Strawberry, old boy,” he said. “You know me. You ain’t going to stand there and say as you don’t know me.”

“What’s the Thing talking about, Horse?” said several voices.

“Well,” said Strawberry very slowly, “I don’t exactly know, I think most of us don’t know much about any thing yet. But I’ve a sort of idea I’ve seen a thing like this before. I’ve a feeling I lived somewhere else—or was something else—before Aslan woke us all up a few minutes ago. It’s all very muddled. Like a dream. But there were things like these three in the dream.”

“What?” said the Cabby. “Not know me? Me what used to bring you a hot mash of an evening when you was out of sorts? Me what rubbed you down proper? Me what never forgot to put your cloth on you if you was standing in the—cold? I wouldn’t ’ave thought it of you, Strawberry.”

“It does begin to come back,” said the Horse thoughtfully. “Yes. Let me think now, let me think. Yes, you used to tie a horrid black thing behind me and then hit me to make me run, and however far I ran this black thing would always be coming rattle-rattle behind me.”

“We ’ad our living to earn, see,” said the Cabby. “Yours the same as mine. And if there ’adn’t been no work and no whip there’d ’ave been no stable, no hay, no mash, and no oats. For you did get a taste of oats when I could afford ’em, which no one can deny.”

“Oats?” said the Horse, pricking up his ears. “Yes, I remember something about that. Yes, I remember more and more. You were always sitting up somewhere behind, and I was always running in front, pulling you and the black thing. I know I did all the work.”

“Summer, I grant you,” said the Cabby. “’Ot work for you and a cool seat for me. But what about winter, old boy, when you was keeping yourself warm and I was sitting up there with my feet like ice and my nose fair pinched off me with the wind, and my ’ands that numb I couldn’t ’ardly ’old the reins?”

“It was a hard, cruel country,” said Strawberry. “There was no grass. All hard stones.”

“Too true, mate, too true!” said the Cabby. “A ’ard world it was. I always did say those paving-stones weren’t fair on any ’oss. That’s Lunn’on, that is. I didn’t like it no more than what you did. You were a country ’oss, and I was a country man. Used to sing in the choir, I did, down at ’ome. But there wasn’t a living for me there.”

“Oh please, please,” said Digory. “Could we get on? The Lion’s getting further and further away. And I do want to speak to him so dreadfully badly.”

“Look ’ere, Strawberry,” said the Cabby. “This young gen’leman ’as something on his mind that he wants to talk to the Lion about; ’im you call Aslan. Suppose you was to let ’im ride on your back (which ’e’d take it very kindly) and trot ’im over to where the Lion is. And me and the little girl will be following along.”

“Ride?” said Strawberry. “Oh, I remember now. That means sitting on my back. I remember there used to be a little one of you two-leggers who used to do that long ago. He used to have little hard, square lumps of some white stuff that he gave me. They tasted—oh, wonderful, sweeter than grass.”

“Ah, that’d be sugar,” said the Cabby.

“Please, Strawberry,” begged Digory, “do, do let me get up and take me to Aslan.”

“Well, I don’t mind,” said the Horse. “Not for once in a way. Up you get.”

“Good old Strawberry,” said the Cabby. “’Ere, young ’un, I’ll give you a lift.” Digory was soon on Strawberry’s back, and quite comfortable, for he had ridden bare-back before on his own pony.

“Now, do gee up, Strawberry,” he said.

“You don’t happen to have a bit of that white stuff about you, I suppose?” said the Horse.

“No. I’m afraid I haven’t,” said Digory.

“Well, it can’t be helped,” said Strawberry, and off they went.

At that moment a large Bulldog, who had been sniffing and staring very hard, said:

“Look. Isn’t there another of these queer creatures—over there, beside the river, under the trees?”

Then all the animals looked and saw Uncle Andrew, standing very still among the rhododendrons and hoping he wouldn’t be noticed.

“Come on!” said several voices. “Let’s go and find out.” So, while Strawberry was briskly trotting away with Digory in one direction (and Polly and the Cabby were following on foot) most of the creatures rushed toward Uncle Andrew with roars, barks, grunts, and various noises of cheerful interest.

We must now go back a bit and explain what the whole scene had looked like from Uncle Andrew’s point of view. It had not made at all the same impression on him as on the Cabby and the children. For what you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing: it also depends on what sort of person you are.

Ever since the animals had first appeared, Uncle Andrew had been shrinking further and further back into the thicket. He watched them very hard of course; but he wasn’t really interested in seeing what they were doing, only in seeing whether they were going to make a rush at him. Like the Witch, he was dreadfully practical. He simply didn’t notice that Aslan was choosing one pair out of every kind of beasts. All he saw, or thought he saw, was a lot of dangerous wild animals walking vaguely about. And he kept on wondering why the other animals didn’t run away from the big Lion.

When the great moment came and the Beasts spoke, he missed the whole point; for a rather interesting reason. When the Lion had first begun singing, long ago when it was still quite dark, he had realized that the noise was a song. And he had disliked the song very much. It made him think and feel things he did not want to think and feel. Then, when the sun rose and he saw that the singer was a lion (“only a lion,” as he said to himself) he tried his hardest to make believe that it wasn’t singing and never had been singing—only roaring as any lion might in a zoo in our own world. “Of course it can’t really have been singing,” he thought, “I must have imagined it. I’ve been letting my nerves get out of order. Who ever heard of a lion singing?” And the longer and more beautiful the Lion sang, the harder Uncle Andrew tried to make himself believe that he could hear nothing but roaring. Now the trouble about trying to make yourself stupider than you really are is that you very often succeed. Uncle Andrew did. He soon did hear nothing but roaring in Aslan’s song. Soon he couldn’t have heard anything else even if he had wanted to. And when at last the Lion spoke and said, “Narnia awake,” he didn’t hear any words: he heard only a snarl. And when the Beasts spoke in answer, he heard only barkings, growlings, bayings, and howlings. And when they laughed—well, you can imagine. That was worse for Uncle Andrew than anything that had happened yet. Such a horrid, bloodthirsty din of hungry and angry brutes he had never heard in his life. Then, to his utter rage and horror, he saw the other three humans actually walking out into the open to meet the animals.

“The fools!” he said to himself. “Now those brutes will eat the rings along with the children and I’ll never be able to get home again. What a selfish little boy that Digory is! And the others are just as bad. If they want to throw away their own lives, that’s their business. But what about me? They don’t seem to think of that. No one thinks of me.”

Finally, when a whole crowd of animals came rushing toward him, he turned and ran for his life. And now anyone could see that the air of that young world was really doing the old gentleman good. In London he had been far too old to run: now, he ran at a speed which would have made him certain to win the hundred yards’ race at any Prep school in England. His coat-tails flying out behind him were a fine sight. But of course it was no use. Many of the animals behind him were swift ones; it was the first run they had ever taken in their lives and they were all longing to use their new muscles. “After him! After him!” they shouted. “Perhaps he’s that Neevil! Tally-ho! Tantivy! Cut him off! Round him up! Keep it up! Hurrah!”

In a very few minutes some of them got ahead of him. They lined up in a row and barred his way. Others hemmed him in from behind. Wherever he looked he saw terrors. Antlers of great elks and the huge face of an elephant towered over him. Heavy, serious-minded bears and boars grunted behind him. Cool-looking leopards and panthers with sarcastic faces (as he thought) stared at him and waved their tails. What struck him most of all was the number of open mouths. The animals had really opened their mouths to pant; he thought they had opened their mouths to eat him.

Uncle Andrew stood trembling and swaying this way and that. He had never liked animals at the best of times, being usually rather afraid of them; and of course years of doing cruel experiments on animals had made him hate and fear them far more.

“Now, sir,” said the Bulldog in his business-like way, “are you animal, vegetable, or mineral?” That was what it really said; but all Uncle Andrew heard was “Gr-r-rarrh-ow!”

这当然是狮子的声音了。孩子们早就觉得它能说话，可真等它开口说起话来，他们还真是又惊又喜。

树林里走出了野人，还有男男女女的树神；农牧之神、林神和小矮人也跟着出来了。河里，河神带着他的女儿们探出了头。他们和所有的鸟兽扯着高高低低、粗粗细细的五花八门的嗓门儿回答狮子：

“向您致敬！阿斯兰。我们听见了，我们服从您。我们苏醒了。我们要去爱，去思考，去说话，去弄懂一切。”

“可是，我们懂得的还是太少，”一个瓮声瓮气的声音说。孩子们听了都跳了起来，因为说话的正是那匹拉车的马。

“好样的，老草莓，”波莉说。“我真高兴它能被选为会说话的动物。”马车夫这会儿正站在孩子们身边，说：“这真让俺吃了一惊哟。不过，俺一直就说这匹马很有灵性。”

“生灵们，我让你们拥有你们自己啦，”阿斯兰用铿锵而愉悦的声音说，“我让纳尼亚这片土地永远属于你们。这里的树木、果实和河流也属于你们。我还把星星以及我自己给了你们。我没有挑选的那些哑兽也是你们的，要善待并珍惜它们，但不要走回头路，以免你们变回不会说话的野兽。因为你们是从它们中间挑选出来的，你们有可能走它们的老路。不要重蹈覆辙。”

“不会的，阿斯兰，我们不会走回头路！”它们齐声回应。一只多嘴的寒鸦扯开嗓门加了一句：“绝不！”大伙儿都住口了它才冷不丁冒出这么一句，所以，在一片沉寂中，它的声音格外清楚。也许，你已经知道，这可是一件不雅的事儿——比方说，在一次聚会上。寒鸦尴尬极了，连忙把头埋进翅膀里，装作要睡觉的样子。其他的动物开始发出各种千奇百怪的声音，这是它们在发笑呢，而这种笑，在我们的世界里，当然是谁也没有听见过的。起先，它们还想使劲儿憋住不笑，但阿斯兰说：

“笑吧，别害怕，生灵们。既然你们不再是哑巴，不再愚昧无知，就不应该总是板着脸孔。因为有了语言，就会有玩笑，也会有正义。”

于是，动物们放声大笑起来。这种欢快的气氛又令那只寒鸦鼓足勇气，一下蹦到了那匹拉车的马的头上，停在它的两只耳朵中间，鼓动着翅膀说：

“阿斯兰！阿斯兰！我开了第一个玩笑，是吗？是不是以后大家都知道我是怎样开这第一个玩笑的？”

“不，小朋友，”狮子说，“你不是开第一个玩笑，而是成了第一个笑柄。”说完，大伙儿比刚才笑得更起劲了；可寒鸦满不在乎，也跟着大伙儿笑了起来。笑到后来，马一晃脑袋，它一失足，就掉了下来，但还没等它落地，它就想起了自己还有翅膀呢（那对翅膀还没有用过呢）。

“现在，”阿斯兰说，“纳尼亚诞生了。下一步，我们必须设法保卫它的安全。我将从你们当中挑选出我的智囊团。到我这边来，你，小矮人头领；你，河神；你，橡树；你，猫头鹰先生；再加上你俩，乌鸦夫妇；还有你，大象先生。我们必须共商国是。虽然这个世界诞生还不到五个小时，但邪恶已经潜入了。”

它刚才任命的动物们走上前来，它转过身，率领它们向东而去。其余的动物开始议论纷纷，有的在问：“它说什么已经潜入咱们的世界了？——是一只‘伊佛儿(1)’？——什么是‘伊佛儿’？——不，它说的不是一只‘伊佛儿’，它说的一只‘维佛儿’——唉，到底是什么玩意儿呢？”

“嗨，”迪格雷对波莉说，“我得跟着它——我是说，跟着阿斯兰，那头狮子。我要与它谈谈。”

“你觉得咱们可以吗？”波莉说。“我可不敢。”

“我必须去，”迪格雷说，“为了妈妈。要是有谁能给我一样能治好她病的东西，那就只能是它了。”

“让俺跟着去吧，”马车夫说，“俺喜欢它那股子神气劲儿。别的动物嘛，俺不指望自己能讨它们喜欢，俺只想和俺的老草莓说上一句话。”

于是，三个人迈开步子，大胆地——或者说壮着胆子——朝那群动物走去。动物们正忙着聊天和交朋友呢，直到这三个人走近时才注意到他们。它们也没有听见安德鲁舅舅的动静，他穿着一双扣得紧紧的靴子，站在远处瑟瑟发抖，嘴里喊着（可是没有憋足了劲儿）：

“迪格雷！回来！叫你回来你就得马上回来。我不许你再往前走一步。”

最后，他们走到了动物们中间，动物们都不聊天了，只管盯着他们看。

“咦？”海狸先生终于开口问，“阿斯兰在上，告诉我这究竟是群什么玩意儿？”

“很抱歉，”迪格雷上气不接下气地刚想说下去，一只兔子打断他，“它们是一种大莴苣，错不了。”

“不，我们不是，我们真的不是，”波莉急忙说，“我们可不是什么好吃的东西。”

“嗨！”鼹鼠说。“他们会说话！谁听说过有会说话的莴苣？”

“也许他们是第二个笑柄，”寒鸦说。

一头黑豹正在洗脸，它停了一下，说，“嗯，就算是的话，也没有第一个好笑。至少，我看不出他们有啥可笑的。”它打了个呵欠，继续洗它的脸。

“哦，很抱歉，”迪格雷说，“我等不及了，我想见见狮子。”

刚才那会儿，马车夫一直在试图吸引草莓的目光。终于，他成功了。“嗨，草莓，老伙计，”他说，“你认得俺。你可不能往那儿一站就不认俺了呀。”

“那玩意儿叽里咕噜在说什么呢，马兄弟？”几个声音问。

“唉，”草莓慢条斯理地说，“我不太清楚。我看我们中大多数对什么事都不大了解。不过我总觉得以前在哪里见过类似这种玩意儿。我老是有种感觉，觉得从前住在别的什么地方——或者说，从前我是别的什么东西——可就在几分钟前，阿斯兰唤醒了我们。就像做梦一样，昏昏沉沉的，但有三个很像他们的玩意儿出现在那个梦里。”

“什么？”马车夫说，“你不认识俺啦？没有俺，你犯病那会儿谁伺候你吃上一顿热乎乎的晚餐的？没有俺，谁给你擦洗鬃毛？每次你站在冷冰冰的地方，谁从不忘记给你盖上点什么？真没想到你会变成这样，草莓。”

“真的有过这些事，”马儿若有所思地说。“是啊，让我想想，好好想想。对了，你过去老是把一个可怕的黑漆漆的东西绑在我的背后，然后鞭打着我让我往前跑。不管我跑多远，那个黑漆漆的东西都一直在我身后哐啷哐啷地拖着。”

“咱得挣钱过日子呀，”马车夫说，“咱俩都是一样的命。要是不干活儿，或者不挨鞭子，就不会有马厩和干草，也不会有麦糊和燕麦。只有俺有钱买燕麦了，你才能够尝到一点儿。这没啥好否认的。”

“燕麦？”马儿竖起了耳朵。“对了，我记起那东西来了。是的，我记起越来越多的事了。你以前总是高高地坐在我背后的一个地方，而我总在前面跑，拉着你和那个黑漆漆的东西。我知道所有的活儿都是我干的。”

“只有在夏天，我承认，”马车夫说，“你干着所有的活儿，而俺可以坐着凉快。可到了冬天呢，老伙计，那会儿你就浑身暖和了，而俺坐在那儿，脚冻得跟冰块儿似的，鼻子都要让风给刮掉了，手也冻得很僵，都抓不住缰绳了。”

“那地方太惨了，日子真过不下去，”草莓说。“那里没有草，全是硬邦邦的石头。”

“太对了，伙计，太对了！”马车夫说。“真是个要命的地方。俺老是讲，那些铺路石不适合在上面跑马。伦敦就那样子，俺和你一样不喜欢伦敦。你是匹乡下马，俺是个乡下佬。俺过去老在老家的唱诗班里唱歌，可在老家，俺没法活下去啊。”

“哦，对不起，对不起，”迪格雷说，“咱们继续前进好吗？狮子走得越来越远了，我真的太想跟它说说话了。”

“嗨，听俺说，草莓，”马车夫说，“这位小少爷心里头有些话想对狮子说，就是你们的阿斯兰。你驮着他去找狮子吧，他会乐意的。俺和这小丫头在后面跟着。”

“驮着他？”草莓说。“哦，我想起来了，就是骑在我的背上。我记得很久以前，常有一个小家伙，像你这样长着两条腿的，骑在我的背上。他常给我吃一种硬硬的白色的小方块，那东西吃起来——哦，美极了，要比草甜得多。”

“啊，那是糖，”马车夫说。

“请吧，草莓，”迪格雷央求着说，“快，让我骑上去吧，带我去找阿斯兰。”

“行，我不介意，”马儿说，“就驮你一次吧，上来。”

“好样的，老草莓，”马车夫说。“来，小伙子，让俺托你一把。”迪格雷很快骑上了草莓，他感到舒服极了，因为他以前只骑过自己那匹小马驹的光背。

“驾，出发，草莓！”他喊道。

“我看，你身上没带那种白色的好吃的东西吧？”马儿问。

“好像没带，”迪格雷说。

“好吧，这也没办法，”草莓边说边撒开蹄子跑了起来。

就在这时，一只大公狗嗅了好一阵子，又盯着瞧了好一会儿，接着喊了起来：

“瞧，那里不是还有一个这种奇怪的玩意儿吗？——在那儿，河边上，树底下。”

动物们都朝着那边望去，它们看见安德鲁舅舅一动不动地立在杜鹃花丛中，生怕被人发现。

“来吧！”几个声音说。“我们过去看看。”这会儿，草莓正驮着迪格雷轻快地朝一个方向奔去（波莉和马车夫步行跟在后面），而大多数动物正奔向安德鲁舅舅，它们吼着、吠着、哼哼着，满心好奇地发出各种各样欢快的声音。

现在，我们得回过头去从安德鲁舅舅的角度解释一下事情的原原本本了。这些事情留给他的印象跟留给马车夫和孩子们的印象完全不同，因为一个人的所见所闻大致取决于他所处的立场，也取决于他是一个什么样的人。

动物们一出现，安德鲁舅舅就一步一步地往后退，最后缩到灌木丛里去了。当然，他也仔细地观察着它们；不过他对它们在干些什么事情不感兴趣，他关心的是它们会不会朝自己冲过来。跟女巫一样，他极其现实。他压根儿没注意到阿斯兰从每一种野兽里挑出了一对；他看见的，或自以为看见的，只是许许多多危险的野兽在他眼前晃来晃去。而且他一直在纳闷，为什么还有一些动物不从那头巨狮身边跑开呢。

当野兽们开口讲话那一伟大时刻来临时，安德鲁舅舅却错过了，其中原因，说起来十分可笑。狮子开始唱歌时，还是很久以前天还漆黑那会儿，他也意识到那声音是一首歌，可是他很不喜欢那首歌，这使他想起了不愉快的事情，并使他浑身不对劲儿。后来，太阳升起来了，他看见唱歌的是一头狮子（“不过是一头狮子，”他自言自语地说），于是便使劲让自己相信它不是在唱歌，也从来没唱过歌——它只不过像我们世界的动物园里的狮子那样吼叫着。“它当然不可能唱歌，”他想，“那只是我的幻觉，我一定是神经错乱啦。有谁听见过狮子唱歌呢？”狮子越这么唱下去，唱得越动听，他就越发让自己相信他听到的只不过是吼叫。要命的是，只要一个人想把自己变得更加愚蠢，他十有八九能够成功。安德鲁舅舅就是这样。要不了一会儿，他就从阿斯兰的歌声中只听见吼叫了，即使他想听，也听不出别的声音了。最后，当狮子开口说“纳尼亚，醒来吧”的时候，他一个字儿也没有听到：他听到的只是一声咆哮。当野兽们跟阿斯兰说话时，他也只听见一阵汪汪、嗷嗷的叫唤。而当它们开口大笑时——嗯，你能想象那笑声，这对安德鲁舅舅来说可就是至今发生的最可怕的事情了。一群饥饿而愤怒的野兽，发出这么一阵杀气腾腾的恐怖吼叫，他这一辈子都没听见过。后来，他看到那三个人朝空地里走去，加入了动物们的队伍，这使他又气又怕。

“一群蠢货！”他自言自语着。“这下，那群畜生会把这两个孩子连同戒指一块儿吞掉的，我再也回不去了。迪格雷这小鬼真自私！其他几个也不是好东西。要是他们觉得活腻了，那是他们自个儿的事，可叫我怎么办呢？他们好像从没考虑过，从来就没有人替我着想过。”

最后，一大群动物朝他冲了过来，他赶紧转身逃命。这会儿，谁都看得出，那个年轻世界的空气确实对这位老先生大有好处。在伦敦，他已经老得跑不动了，可按他这会儿跑步的速度，在英格兰任何一个预备学校都能拿下百米赛的冠军。他礼服的后摆在身后甩来甩去，倒是一道有趣的风景。不过，他跑得再快也不顶用。追着他的动物中有不少是跑步健将，而这又是它们有生以来第一次奔跑，因此都想试试它们的新肌肉。“快追！追上他！”它们喊叫着。“他弄不好就是那个什么‘伊佛儿’！嗬！快跑！截住他！把他给围起来！加油！快！”

几分钟后，一些动物赶上了他，它们排成一列截住了他，其他动物又包抄了过来。他环顾四周，朝哪儿看都吓一大跳。他一抬头，便看见巨大的麋鹿高耸着角；大象探着它那张庞大的脸；他的身后，笨重的熊和野猪板着脸，呼哧呼哧地叫着；神情冷漠的豹子甩着尾巴，幸灾乐祸地（他是这么想的）盯着他。最使他心惊肉跳的是那么多的血盆大口。其实动物们张大嘴巴是为了喘气，他却认为它们要张嘴吞了他。

安德鲁舅舅东摇西晃地站在那里，浑身发抖。他一直就对动物们十分恐惧，即便在他威风的时候，也不喜欢它们；长年累月地用动物做残忍的实验自然使他越发憎恨和害怕它们。

“请问，先生，”那条公狗用处理公事的口吻问，“你究竟是动物，是植物，还是矿物呢？”它一字一句地说出这话，可在安德鲁舅舅听来只是“汪——汪——汪！”的叫声。

* * *

(1) 动物们不知阿斯兰所说的“邪恶（evil）”为何意，以为这“evil”是一种什么动物的名称。