HOW THEY DISCOVERED SOMETHING WORTH KNOWING

THE others admitted afterwards that Jill had been wonderful that day. As soon as the King and the rest of the hunting party had set off, she began making a tour of the whole castle and asking questions, but all in such an innocent, babyish way that no one could suspect her of any secret design. Though her tongue was never still, you could hardly say she talked: she prattled and giggled. She made love to everyone - the grooms, the porters, the housemaids, the ladies-in-waiting, and the elderly giant lords whose hunting days were past. She submitted to being kissed and pawed about by any number of giantesses, many of whom seemed sorry for her and called her "a poor little thing" though none of them explained why. She made especial friends with the cook and discovered the all-important fact there was a scullery door which let you out through the outer wall, so that you did not have to cross the courtyard or pass the great gatehouse. In the kitchen she pretended to be greedy, and ate all sorts of scraps which the cook and scullions delighted to give her. But upstairs among the ladies she asked questions about how she would be dressed for the great feast, and how long she would be allowed to sit up, and whether she would dance with some very, very small giant. And then (it made her hot all over when she remembered it afterwards) she would put her head on one side in an idiotic fashion which grown-ups, giant and otherwise, thought very fetching, and shake her curls, and fidget, and say, "Oh, I do wish it was tomorrow night, don't you? Do you think the time will go quickly till then?" And all the giantesses said she was a perfect little darling; and some of them dabbed their eyes with enormous handkerchiefs as if they were going to cry.

"They're dear little things at that age," said one giantess to another. "It seems almost a pity . . ."

Scrubb and Puddleglum both did their best, but girls do that kind of thing better than boys. Even boys do it better than Marsh-wiggles.

At lunchtime something happened which made all three of them more anxious than ever to leave the castle of the Gentle Giants. They had lunch in the great hall at a little table of their own, near the fireplace. At a bigger table, about twenty yards away, half a dozen old giants were lunching. Their conversation was so noisy, and so high up in the air, that the children soon took no more notice of it than you would of hooters outside the window or traffic noises in the street. They were eating cold venison, a kind of food which Jill had never tasted before, and she was liking it.

Suddenly Puddleglum turned to them, and his face had gone so pale that you could see the paleness under the natural muddiness of his complexion. He said:

"Don't eat another bite."

"What's wrong?" asked the other two in a whisper.

"Didn't you hear what those giants were saying? `That's a nice tender haunch of venison,' said one of them. `Then that stag was a liar,' said another. `Why?' said the first one. `Oh,' said the other. `They say that when he was caught he said, Don't kill me, I'm tough. You won't like me.'" For a moment Jill did not realize the full meaning of this. But she did when Scrubb's eyes opened wide with horror and he said:

"So we've been eating a Talking stag."

This discovery didn't have exactly the same effect on all of them. Jill, who was new to that world, was sorry for the poor stag and thought it rotten of the giants to have killed him. Scrubb, who had been in that world before and had at least one Talking beast as his dear friend, felt horrified; as you might feel about a murder. But Puddleglum, who was Narnian born, was sick and faint, and felt as you would feel if you found you had eaten a baby.

"We've brought the anger of Aslan on us," he said. "That's what comes of not attending to the signs. We're under a curse, I expect. If it was allowed, it would be the best thing we could do, to take these knives and drive them into our own hearts."

And gradually even Jill came to see it from his point of view. At any rate, none of them wanted any more lunch. And as soon as they thought it safe they crept quietly out of the hall.

It was now drawing near to that time of the day on which their hopes of escape depended, and all became nervous. They hung about in passages and waited for things to become quiet. The giants in the hall sat on a dreadfully long time after the meal was over. The bald one was telling a story. When that was over, the three travellers dawdled down to the kitchen. But there were still plenty of giants there, or at least in the scullery, washing up and putting things away. It was agonizing, waiting till these finished their jobs and, one by one, wiped their hands and went away. At last only one old giantess was left in the room. She pottered about, and pottered about, and at last the three travellers realized with horror that she did not intend to go away at all.

"Well, dearies," she said to them. "That job's about through. Let's put the kettle there. That'll make a nice cup of tea presently. Now I can have a little bit of a rest. Just look into the scullery, like good poppets, and tell me if the back door is open."

"Yes, it is," said Scrubb.

"That's right. I always leave it open so as Puss can get in and out, the poor thing."

Then she sat down on one chair and put her feet up on another.

"I don't know as I mightn't have forty winks," said the giantess. "If only that blarney hunting party doesn't come back too soon."

All their spirits leaped up when she mentioned forty winks, and flopped down again when she mentioned the return of the hunting party.

"When do they usually comeback?" asked Jill.

"You never can tell," said the giantess. "But there; go and be quiet for a bit, my dearies."

They retreated to the far end of the kitchen, and would have slipped out into the scullery there and then if the giantess had not sat up, opened her eyes, and brushed away a fly. "Don't try it till we're sure she's really asleep," whispered Scrubb. "Or it'll spoil everything." So they all huddled at the kitchen end, waiting and watching. The thought that the hunters might come back at any moment was terrible. And the giantess was fidgety. Whenever they thought she had really gone to sleep, she moved.

"I can't bear this," thought Jill. To distract her mind, she began looking about her. Just in front of her was a clean wide table with two clean pie-dishes on it, and an open book. They were giant pie-dishes of course. Jill thought that she could lie down just comfortably in one of them. Then she climbed up on the bench beside the table to look at the book. She read:

MALLARD. This delicious bird can be cooked in a variety of ways.

"It's a cookery book," thought Jill without much interest, and glanced over her shoulder. The giantess's eyes were shut but she didn't look as if she were properly asleep. Jill glanced back at the book. It was arranged alphabetically: and at the very next entry her heart seemed to stop beating; It ran

MAN. This elegant little biped has long been valued as a delicacy. It forms a traditional part of the Autumn Feast, and is served between the fish and the joint. Each Man...

but she could not bear to read any more. She turned round. The giantess had wakened up and was having a fit of coughing. Jill nudged the other two and pointed to the book. They also mounted the bench and bent over the huge pages. Scrubb was still reading about how to cook Men when Puddleglum pointed to the next entry below it. It was like this:

MARSH-WIGGLE. Some authorities reject this animal altogether as unfit for giants' consumption because of its stringy consistency and muddy flavour. The flavour can, however, be greatly reduced if-

Jill touched his feet, and Scrubb's, gently. All three looked back at the giantess. Her mouth was slightly open and from her nose there came a sound which at that moment was more welcome to them than any music; she snored. And now it was a question of tiptoe work, not daring to go too fast, hardly daring to breathe, out through the scullery (giant sculleries smell horrid), out at last into the pale sunlight of a winter afternoon.

They were at the top of a rough little path which ran steeply down. And, thank heavens, on the right side of the castle; the City Ruinous was in sight. In a few minutes they were back on the broad, steep road which led down from the main gate of the castle. They were also in full view from every single window on that side. If it had been one, or two, or five windows there'd be a reasonable chance that no one might be looking out. But there were nearer fifty than five. They now realized, too, that the road on which they were, and indeed all the ground between them and the City Ruinous, didn't offer as much cover as would hide a fox; it was all coarse grass and pebbles and flat stones. To make matters worse, they were now in the clothes that the giants had provided for them last night: except Puddleglum, whom nothing would fit. Jill wore a vivid green robe, rather too long for her, and over that a scarlet mantle fringed with white fur. Scrubb had scarlet stockings, blue tunic and cloak, a gold-hilted sword, and a feathered bonnet.

"Nice bits of colour, you two are," muttered Puddleglum. "Show up very prettily on a winter day. The worst archer in the world couldn't miss either of you if you were in range. And talking of archers, we'll be sorry not to have our own bows before long, I shouldn't wonder. Bit thin, too, those clothes of yours, are they?"

"Yes, I'm freezing already," said Jill.

A few minutes ago when they had been in the kitchen, she had thought that if only they could once get out of the castle, their escape would be almost complete. She now realized that the most dangerous part of it was still to come.

"Steady, steady," said Puddleglum. "Don't look back. Don't walk too quickly. Whatever you do, don't run. Look as if we were just taking a stroll, and then, if anyone sees us, he might, just possibly, not bother. The moment we look like people running away, we're done."

The distance to the City Ruinous seemed longer than Jill would have believed possible. But bit by bit they were covering it. Then came a noise. The other two gasped. Jill, who didn't know what it was, said, "What's that?"

"Hunting horn," whispered Scrubb.

"But don't run even now," said Puddleglum. "Not until I give the word."

This time Jill couldn't help glancing over her shoulder. There, about half a mile away, was the hunt returning from behind them on the left.

They walked on. Suddenly a great clamour of giant voices arose: then shouts and hollas.

"They've seen us. Run," said Puddleglum.

Jill gathered up her long skirts - horrible things for running in - and ran. There was no mistaking the danger now. She could hear the music of the hounds. She could hear the King's voice roaring out, "After them, after them, or we'll have no man-pies tomorrow."

She was last of the three now, cumbered with her dress, slipping on loose stones, her hair getting in her mouth, running-pains across her chest. The hounds were much nearer. Now she had to run uphill, up the stony slope which led to the lowest step of the giant stairway. She had no idea what they would do when they got there, or how they would be any better off even if they reached the top.

But she didn't think about that. She was like a hunted animal now; as long as the pack was after her, she must run till she dropped.

The Marsh-wiggle was ahead. As he came to the lowest step he stopped, looked a little to his right, and all of a sudden darted into a little hole or crevice at the bottom of it. His long legs, disappearing into it, looked very like those of a spider. Scrubb hesitated and then vanished after him. Jill, breathless and reeling, came to the place about a minute later. It was an unattractive hole - a crack between the earth and the stone about three feet long and hardly more than a foot high. You had to fling yourself flat on your face and crawl in. You couldn't do it so very quickly either. She felt sure that a dog's teeth would close on her heel before she had got inside.

"Quick, quick. Stones. Fill up the opening," came Puddleglum's voice in the darkness beside her. It was pitch black in there, except for the grey light in the opening by which they had crawled in. The other two were working hard. She could see Scrubb's small hands and the Marshwiggle's big, frog-like hands black against the light, working desperately to pile up stones. Then she realized how important this was and began groping for large stones herself, and handing them to the others. Before the dogs were baying and yelping at the cave mouth, they had it pretty well filled; and now, of course, there was no light at all.

"Farther in, quick," said Puddleglum's voice.

"Let's all hold hands," said Jill.

"Good idea," said Scrubb. But it took them quite a long time to find one another's hands in the darkness. The dogs were sniffing at the other side of the barrier now.

"Try if we can stand up," suggested Scrubb. They did and found that they could. Then, Puddleglum holding out a hand behind him to Scrubb, and Scrubb holding a hand out behind him to Jill (who wished very much that she was the middle one of the party and not the last), they began groping with their feet and stumbling forwards into the blackness. It was all loose stones underfoot. Then Puddleglum came up to a wall of rock. They turned a little to their right and went on. There were a good many more twists and turns. Jill had now no sense of direction at all, and no idea where the mouth of the cave lay.

"The question is," came Puddleglum's voice out of the darkness ahead, "whether, taking one thing with another, it wouldn't be better to go back (if we can) and give the giants a treat at that feast of theirs, instead of losing our way in the guts of a hill where, ten to one, there's dragons and deep holes and gases and water and - Ow! Let go! Save yourselves. I'm -"

After that all happened quickly. There was a wild cry, a swishing, dusty, gravelly noise, a rattle of stones, and Jill found herself sliding, sliding, hopelessly sliding, and sliding quicker every moment down a slope that grew steeper every moment. It was not a smooth, firm slope, but a slope of small stones and rubbish. Even if you could have stood up, it would have been no use. Any bit of that slope you had put your foot on would have slid away from under you and carried you down with it. But Jill was more lying than standing. And the farther they all slid, the more they disturbed all the stones and earth, so that the general downward rush of everything (including themselves) got faster and louder and dustier and dirtier. From the sharp cries and swearing of the other two, Jill got the idea that many of the stones which she was dislodging were hitting Scrubb and Puddleglum pretty hard. And now she was going at a furious rate and felt sure she would be broken to bits at the bottom.

Yet somehow they weren't. They were a mass of bruises, and the wet sticky stuff on her face appeared to be blood. And such a mass of loose earth, shingle, and larger stones was piled up round her (and partly over her) that she couldn't get up. The darkness was so complete that it made no difference at all whether you had your eyes open or shut. There was no noise. And that was the very worst moment Jill had ever known in her life. Supposing she was alone: supposing the others . . . Then she heard movements around her. And presently all three, in shaken voices, were explaining that none of them seemed to have any broken bones.

"We can never get up that again," said Scrubb's voice.

"And have you noticed how warm it is?" said the voice of Puddleglum. "That means we're a long way down. Might be nearly a mile."

No one said anything. Some time later Puddleglum added:

"My tinder-box has gone."

After another long pause Jill said, "I'm terribly thirsty."

No one suggested doing anything. There was so obviously nothing to be done. For the moment, they did not feel it quite so badly as one might have expected; that was because they were so tired.

Long, long afterwards, without the slightest warning, an utterly strange voice spoke. They knew at once that it was not the one voice in the whole world for which each had secretly been hoping; the voice of Aslan. It was a dark, flat voice - almost, if you know what that means, a pitch-black voice. It said:

"What make you here, creatures of the Overworld?"

9、真相大白
      另外两位事后承认，那天吉尔的表演真是妙极了。国王和和其余那些参加打猎的人刚出发，她就开始游览整个城堡，还问了好多问题，但全都用那副天真烂漫、孩子气的腔调，所以没人能怀疑她有什么密谋。虽然她嘴巴一直没闲着，你却很难说她在说话，她唠唠叨叨，格格痴笑。她讨好每一个人——男仆、看门人、女仆、女侍官，还有那些过了打猎时代的老年巨人贵族。她忍受好多女巨人的亲吻和抚摸，好多人似乎为她难过，叫她“可怜的小东西”然而谁也没有说明为什么。她跟厨子成了特别要好的朋友，并发现了最重要的实际情况。厨房洗碗间有一扇门，可以让你从外墙出去，因此你就不必穿过院子，或经过门房。她在厨房里装出一副馋相，吃了厨子和厨房帮工乐于给她的各种各样碎屑。而到了楼上那些夫人当中，她就问，在盛宴上她得怎么穿衣服啊，准许她坐多长时间啊，她是否能跟一个最小最小的巨人跳舞啊。然后(事后她回想起这些事，只觉得浑身发烫)，她就一副傻样儿，把脑袋歪在一边，好多巨人啊什么的大人看了都觉得十分迷人，她还抖动自己的髦发，坐立不安地说，“哦，我真希望现在就是明天晚上，你们说呢？你们认为时间会过得快些吗？”所有的女巨人都说她是个十全十美的小宝贝；有些人还拿出一块好大的手绢轻轻擦眼睛，好像快要哭了。
     “她们这个年纪的都是些可爱的小东西，”一个女巨人对另一个说，“这似乎有点可怜……”
      斯克罗布和普德格伦也都使出浑身解数，但女孩子做这种事总比男孩子强，甚至连男孩子做这种事也比沼泽怪强。"
      午饭时又出了件事，使他们三个格外急着要离开斯文巨人的城堡了。他们在大厅里靠近火炉的地方一张小桌上用餐。大约二十码以外，在一张大桌子旁边，坐着六个老巨人也在用餐。他们说话声音那么吵，那么响，两个孩子一下子就不去注意这些话了，正像你对窗外的汽笛声和街上交通往来的声音也不注意一样。他们正在吃冷的鹿肉，这是吉尔以前从来没吃过的食品，她倒很喜欢吃。
      突然间普德格伦向他们转过身来，它的脸色变得那么苍白，你能从它那天然泥土色的皮肤上也看得出这份苍白。它说
      “一口也别吃了！”
      “怎么啦？”另外两个悄悄地问。
      “你们没听见那些巨人说的话吗？一个说，‘那是一大块嫩鹿腿肉。'另一个说，‘那么说那只鹿在说谎了。'一个又说，‘为什么？'‘哦，'另外那个说，‘他们说抓住这只鹿的时候，它说‘别杀我，我的肉很老，你们不会喜欢我的’”。
      吉尔一时没领会这句话的全部意义。但看到斯克罗布吓得眼睛睁得大大的，她就明白了。他说:
      “原来我们正在吃一只会说话的鹿。”
      这个发现对他们三个来说，其影响并不完全一样。吉尔是刚到这个世界的，心里为这只可怜的鹿感到难过，并认为杀了它的那些巨人很坏。斯克罗布以前来过这个世界，他的好朋友中至少有一只是会说话的兽类，心里感到不寒而栗，就像你对谋杀案的感受一样。而普德格伦，它生长在纳尼亚，觉得恶心，要昏过去，它的感觉就像发现自己吃下了一个娃娃似的。
      “我们惹阿斯兰动怒了，”它说，“那是我们不照指示做的结果。我想，我们正受到诅咒。要是允许的话，我们最好拿起这些刀，对着自己的心脏刺进去。”
      甚至吉尔也渐渐理解了它的观点。总之，他们大家一点也不想吃了。一等到他们认为比较安全的时候，他们就悄悄溜出了大厅。
      现在决定他们逃跑希望成败的时间快到了，大家都变得很紧张。他们在过道里闲逛，等着周围静下来。大厅里的巨人吃完饭还坐了很长时间。一个秃顶巨人正在讲故事。等故事讲完，他们三个又混到厨房里。但那儿仍然有好多巨人，至少在洗碗间里有好多人，洗洗涮涮，收拾东西。等着这些人干完活，一个一个擦擦手走开，真是件极其痛苦的事。最后厨房里只留下一个上了年纪的女巨人了。她东走走，西逛逛，他们三个终于厌恶地明白她根本就没打算走。
      “好了，宝贝儿，”她对他们说，“那些活儿都差不多干完了。我们放上一只水壶。一会儿就可以煮上一杯好茶。这会儿我要休息一下。做个好宝宝，去看看洗碗间里头，告诉我那扇后门开着吗？”
      “开着。”斯克罗布说。
      “对了，我总是让门开着，那么猫咪就能出出进进了，可怜的小东西。”
      接着她在一只椅子上坐下，把双脚搁在另一只椅子上。
      “不知道我能不能打个盹儿，”那女巨人说，“只要那伙混蛋打猎的别那么快回来就好了。”
      他们听到她提起打盹儿，顿时情绪高涨，再听到她提起打猎那伙人回头又垂头丧气了。
      “他们通常什么时候回来？”吉尔问。
      “从来就没个准，”女巨人说，“不过，得了，宝贝儿，你们去安静一会儿吧。”
      他们退到厨房尽头，要不是那女巨人坐起来，张开眼睛，挥开一只苍蝇，他们早就溜进洗碗间去了。“到确定她真的睡着了再溜，”斯克罗布小声说，“否则一切都完蛋。”于是他们全都蜷缩在厨房尽头等啊，看啊。想到那些打猎的随时都可能回来不免心惊肉跳。而那个女巨人又睡得不安生。每当他们认为她真睡着了，她又动了。
      “这样我可受不了。”吉尔想道。为了分散注意力，她就东张西望。面前正好有一张干净的大桌子，上面有两只放馅饼的干净盘子，还有一本打开的书。那当然是巨人的盘子，吉尔想她可以舒舒服服躺在盘子里口随后她就爬到桌边的长凳上，去看看那本书。她看到:6
      野鸭:这种美味的野禽可以用多种方式烹调。
     “是本烹调书。”吉尔不大感兴趣地想，又回头望了一眼。女巨人眼睛闭着，但看上去她似乎没睡熟。吉尔又回头看这本书。书是按字母排列的，看到下一条，她的心似乎都停止跳动了。
      人:这种文雅的两足小动物很久以来一直被珍视为美味佳肴，也形成了秋季盛宴的一道传统菜。上菜应在鱼和带骨腿肉之间。每个人……但她再也看不下去了。她转过身去。女巨人已经醒来，正咳嗽不止口吉尔轻轻推推另外两个，并指指那本书。他们也爬上长凳，弯腰看着那巨大的书页。斯克罗布还在看人的烹调法时，普德格伦指着下面一条。上面这样写着:
      沼泽怪:某些权威不吃这种动物，因为其肉多筋坚韧，有泥土味，认为其不适合巨人食用，不过此味可以大大减少，只要……吉尔轻轻碰碰普德格伦和斯克罗布的脚。大家都回头看看女巨人。只见她嘴巴微微张开，鼻子里响起一种那时对他们来说比任何音乐更中日斤的声音：她在打呼噜呢。这会儿只是踮着脚走路的问题了，他们不敢走得太快，也不大敢呼吸，就这么走出了洗碗间(巨人的洗碗间味道可难闻呢)，终于来到冬日下午淡淡的阳光下。
      他们走在一条崎岖不平的小路上，小路下坡十分陡峭。感谢老天爷，就在城堡右面，已经看得见那废墟城了。一会儿工夫，他们就回到城堡大门通下来那条宽阔、陡峭的大路上。城堡那边的每扇窗户也都看得见他们。要是那边只有一两扇，或五扇窗户，倒还可能碰巧没人往外看。可那儿有将近五十扇窗户，而不是五扇。这时他们才明白他们走的这条路，以及他们和废墟城之间那段地面，连一只狐狸躲藏的地方都没有。这儿全是粗糙的野草和鹅卵石，以及平坦的石块。更糟糕的是他们现在都穿着昨晚巨人给他们的衣服，除了普德格伦，因为没有适合它穿的。吉尔穿了件嫩绿色袍子，袍子又太长，外面罩了一件镶着白色毛皮的猩红色披凤。斯克罗布穿着猩红色长袜子，蓝色紧身短上衣和斗篷，带着一把金柄的剑，还戴了一顶插着羽毛的帽子。
      “你们俩的颜色真好，”普德格伦喃喃说，“在冬日里显得真漂亮。要是你们在射程以内，最糟的弓箭手也射得中你们俩口说起弓箭手，我们不久就要为自己没带弓箭而遗憾了，我不会奇怪的。你们那些衣服也有点薄吧？”
      “是啊，我已经冷极了。”吉尔说。
      刚才那会儿他们在厨房里的时候，她曾想过只要他们一逃出城堡，就差不多大功告成了。现在她才明白最危险的时刻还没到呢。
      “沉住气，沉住气，”普德格伦说，“别往后看。另外走得太快。随便你怎么走，别跑。看上去我们似乎正在散步，那么，要是有人看见我们，他可能，只是可能，不来打扰。我们看上去像是逃走的人，那就完了。”
      到废墟城那段路似乎比吉尔心目中认为的更长。但他们还是一点一点走过去。这时传来了一种声音，另外两个气也透不过来了。吉尔不知道那是什么，问道”那是什么呀？”
      “打猎的号角声。”斯克罗布悄声说。
     “不过即使到了这时刻也别跑，”普德格伦说，“等我下了命令再跑。”
      这回吉尔忍不住回头望了一眼。那边，大约半英里以外，打猎的从他们左后方回来了。
      他们继续往前走，突然间响起好多巨人吵吵嚷嚷的声音，接着是大喊大叫。
      “他们看见我们了，跑啊。”普德格伦说。
      吉尔提起她的长裙就跑，穿着这长裙跑起来真讨厌。现在确实有危险了。她听得见猎狗的叫声。听得见国王在咆哮“抓住他们，抓住他们，否则我们明天就没有人肉馅饼了。”
      这会儿她已经落在最后一个了，衣服绊手绊脚，滑倒在松散的石头上，头发披散到嘴里，胸口跑得发疼。猎狗更近了。现在她得往山上跑，跑到通往底下一级大石阶的那个斜坡。她不知道他们跑到那儿之后怎么办，也不知道即使到了顶上他们情况会不会好一些。但她不想那些事。目前她像一只被追捕的动物；只要那群狗在追她，她就得跑到倒下为止。
      沼泽怪跑在前面。它刚到底下一级石阶就停下了，朝稍右一点地方看看，突然冲进石阶底部的一个小洞或是裂缝里去了。它的长腿一下就看不见了，看上去真像一只蜘蛛。斯克罗布犹疑了一下，接着跟在它后头也不见人影了。吉尔气喘吁吁，摇摇晃晃，过一会儿也到了这个地方。这洞一点也不起眼——只是泥地和石头之间的一条裂缝罢了。大约有三英尺长，不到一英尺高。你得扑在地上爬进去。你也不能爬得最快。她确信自己还没爬到洞里，狗就会来咬住她了。
      “快，快，石头，把口子堵上。”普德格伦的声音从她身边暗处传来。除了他们爬进来的那条裂缝有点灰蒙蒙的光，里面是一片漆黑。另外两个正在大忙特忙。她看得见斯克罗布那双小手和沼泽怪那双像青蛙爪子的大于，背着光看上去黑乎乎的，正在拼命堆石头。这时她才明白这有多么重要，自己也开始摸着找大石头，递给另外两个。他们总算赶在猎狗到洞口狂吠之前把洞堵得严严实实。眼前，他们当然一点也没亮光了。
      “再往里走，快。”普德格伦的声音说。”我们大家手拉手吧。”吉尔说。
     “好主意。”斯克罗布说。但黑暗中要寻找彼此的手也费了好长时间。猎狗这会儿正在石垒那一边嗅气味呢。
      “试试看能不能站起来？”斯克罗布建议道。他们试了，发现他们能站起来。接着，普德格伦伸出一只手从后面拉着斯克罗布，斯克罗布伸出一只手从后面拉着吉尔(她真希望她站在他俩中间而不是最后)，他们开始用脚探着路，在黑暗中跌跌撞撞往前走。脚下全是松散的石头。后来普德格伦走到一堵石墙前面。他们稍稍往右拐，继续走下去。那儿有好多弯道和拐角。吉尔已经根本不辨方向，也不知道洞口在什么地方了。
      “问题是，”普德格伦的声音从前面黑暗中传来，“总的看来，要是我们能回去的话，回去让巨人在他们的盛宴上请客，比起在小山沟里迷路也不见得好，这里十之八九有龙，有深洞，有沼气，还有水，还有——哎呀！放手！保住你们自己。我……”
      说时迟，那时快，一下子只听得一声狂叫，一阵沙喇喇、哗嚓嚓的声音，石头骨碌碌滚动。吉尔只觉得自己在滑下去，滑下去，毫无希望地滑下去，每滑下一个越来越陡的斜坡，就滑得更快。这不是一种光滑、结实的斜坡，而是小石子和碎屑的斜坡。即使你能站起来也没用。你踩住斜坡任何一片地方，都会从脚下滑掉把你拖下去。但吉尔与其说是站着，不如说是躺着。他们滑得越远，越是把所有的石头和泥土都搅乱了，搅得一切都一齐往下冲(也包括他们自己)，冲势越来越快，越来越响，越来越尘土飞扬，越来越脏。从另外两个的尖声叫喊和骂声里，吉尔知道她踩掉的石头有好多重重砸在斯克罗布和普德格伦身上。目前她正以飞快速度滑下去，她确信自己掉到底下时准会粉身碎骨。
      然而不知怎么的，他们并没粉身碎骨。他们摔得全都青一块，紫一块的，她脸上那又湿又季占的东西好像是血。那么大一堆碎土、砂石和大石块都堆在她周围(有些还高过她)，使她没法站起来。这儿黑咕隆咚，睁着眼闭着眼都一样。一点声音也没有。这真是吉尔一生中最最糟糕的时刻。假定只有她一个人，假定别人……这时她听见身边有动静。不久，他们三个，声音哆嗦地都在说看来他们谁也没有摔断骨头。/
      “我们再也上不去了。”斯克罗布的声音说。
     “你们注意到这儿多么暖和吗？”普德格伦的声音说。”那就是说我们已经滑下很长一段路了。可能有一英里左右吧。”
      谁也不说话。过了一会儿，普德格伦又加了→句.
      “我的引火盒不见了。”
      又歇了很长一段时间，吉尔说“我口渴极了。”
      没人提出干什么。明摆着这儿没什么可干的。目前他们并不像预料中感到那么糟，那是因为他们都很累了。
      很久很久以后，冷不防，一个完全陌生的声音说话了。
      他们立刻就知道这可不是大家暗暗盼望的声音，不是阿斯兰的声音。那是一种阴沉单调的声音——要是你明白那是什么意思，几乎可以说是一种漆黑的声音。它说：
      “上面世界的人，你们怎么到这儿来了？”

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