HOW SHASTA SET OUT ON HIS TRAVELS
THIS is the story of an adventure that happened in Narnia and Calormen and the lands between, in the Golden Age when Peter was High King in Narnia and his brother and his two sisters were King and Queens under him.
In those days, far south in Calormen on a little creek1 of the sea, there lived a poor fisherman called Arsheesh, and with him there lived a boy who called him Father. The boy's name was Shasta. On most days Arsheesh went out in his boat to fish in the morning, and in the afternoon he harnessed his donkey to a cart and loaded the cart with fish and went a mile or so southward to the village to sell it. If it had sold well he would come home in a moderately good temper and say nothing to Shasta, but if it had sold badly he would find fault with him and perhaps beat him. There was always something to find fault with for Shasta had plenty of work to do, mending and washing the nets, cooking the supper, and cleaning the cottage in which they both lived.
Shasta was not at all interested in anything that lay south of his home because he had once or twice been to the village with Arsheesh and he knew that there was nothing very interesting there. In the village he only met other men who were just like his father - men with long, dirty robes, and wooden shoes turned up at the toe, and turbans on their heads, and beards, talking to one another very slowly about things that sounded dull. But he was very interested in everything that lay to the North because no one ever went that way and he was never allowed to go there himself. When he was sitting out of doors mending the nets, and all alone, he would often look eagerly to the North. One could see nothing but a grassy2 slope running up to a level ridge3 and beyond that the sky with perhaps a few birds in it.
Sometimes if Arsheesh was there Shasta would say, "O my Father, what is there beyond that hill?" And then if the fisherman was in a bad temper he would box Shasta's ears and tell him to attend to his work. Or if he was in a peaceable mood he would say, "O my son, do not allow your mind to be distracted by idle questions. For one of the poets has said, `Application to business is the root of prosperity, but those who ask questions that do not concern them are steering4 the ship of folly5 towards the rock of indigence6'."
Shasta thought that beyond the hill there must be some delightful7 secret which his father wished to hide from him. In reality, however, the fisherman talked like this because he didn't know what lay to the North. Neither did he care. He had a very practical mind.
One day there came from the South a stranger who was unlike any man that Shasta had seen before. He rode upon a strong dappled horse with flowing mane and tail and his stirrups and bridle8 were inlaid with silver. The spike9 of a helmet projected from the middle of his silken turban and he wore a shirt of chain mail. By his side hung a curving scimitar, a round shield studded with bosses of brass10 hung at his back, and his right hand grasped a lance. His face was dark, but this did not surprise Shasta because all the people of Calormen are like that; what did surprise him was the man's beard which was dyed crimson11, and curled and gleaming with scented12 oil. But Arsheesh knew by the gold on the stranger's bare arm that he was a Tarkaan or great lord, and he bowed kneeling before him till his beard touched the earth and made signs to Shasta to kneel also.
The stranger demanded hospitality for the night which of course the fisherman dared not refuse. All the best they had was set before the Tarkaan for supper (and he didn't think much of it) and Shasta, as always happened when the fisherman had company, was given a hunk of bread and turned out of the cottage. On these occasions he usually slept with the donkey in its little thatched stable. But it was much too early to go to sleep yet, and Shasta, who had never learned that it is wrong to listen behind doors, sat down with his ear to a crack in the wooden wall of the cottage to hear what the grown-ups were talking about. And this is what he heard.
"And now, O my host," said the Tarkaan, "I have a mind to buy that boy of yours."
"O my master," replied the fisherman (and Shasta knew by the wheedling13 tone the greedy look that was probably coming into his face as he said it), "what price could induce your servant, poor though he is, to sell into slavery his only child and his own flesh? Has not one of the poets said, `Natural affection is stronger than soup and offspring more precious than carbuncles?"'
"It is even so," replied the guest dryly. "But another poet has likewise said, "He who attempts to deceive the judicious15 is already baring his own back for the scourge16." Do not load your aged17 mouth with falsehoods. This boy is manifestly no son of yours, for your cheek is as dark as mine but the boy is fair and white like the accursed but beautiful barbarians18 who inhabit the remote North."
"How well it was said," answered the fisherman, "that Swords can be kept off with shields but the Eye of Wisdom pierces through every defence! Know then, O my formidable guest, that because of my extreme poverty I have never married and have no child. But in that same year in which the Tisroc (may he live for ever) began his august and beneficent reign19, on a night when the moon was at her full, it pleased the gods to deprive me of my sleep. Therefore I arose from my bed in this hovel and went forth20 to the beach to refresh myself with looking upon the water and the moon and breathing the cool air. And presently I heard a noise as of oars21 coming to me across the water and then, as it were, a weak cry. And shortly after, the tide brought to the land a little boat in which there was nothing but a man lean with extreme hunger and thirst who seemed to have died but a few moments before (for he was still warm), and an empty water-skin, and a child, still living. "Doubtless," said I, "these unfortunates have escaped from the wreck22 of a great ship, but by the admirable designs of the gods, the elder has starved himself to keep the child alive and has perished in sight of land." Accordingly, remembering how the gods never fail to reward those who befriend the destitute23, and being moved by compassion24 (for your servant is a man of tender heart) -"
"Leave out all these idle words in your own praise," interrupted the Tarkaan. "It is enough to know that you took the child - and have had ten times the worth of his daily bread out of him in labour, as anyone can see. And now tell me at once what price you put on him, for I am wearied with your loquacity25."
"You yourself have wisely said," answered Arsheesh, "that the boy's labour has been to me of inestimable value. This must be taken into account in fixing the price. For if I sell the boy I must undoubtedly26 either buy or hire another to do his work."
"I'll give you fifteen crescents for him," said the Tarkaan.
"Fifteen!" cried Arsheesh in a voice that was something between a whine27 and a scream. "Fifteen! For the prop28 of my old age and the delight of my eyes! Do not mock my grey beard, Tarkaan though you be. My price is seventy."
At this point Shasta got up and tiptoed away. He had heard all he wanted, for he had open listened when men were bargaining in the village and knew how it was done. He was quite certain that Arsheesh would sell him in the end for something much more than fifteen crescents and much less than seventy, but that he and the Tarkaan would take hours in getting to an agreement.
You must not imagine that Shasta felt at all as you and I would feel if we had just overheard our parents talking about selling us for slaves. For one thing, his life was already little better than slavery; for all he knew, the lordly stranger on the great horse might be kinder to him than Arsheesh. For another, the story about his own discovery in the boat had filled him with excitement and with a sense of relief. He had often been uneasy because, try as he might, he had never been able to love the fisherman, and he knew that a boy ought to love his father. And now, apparently29, he was no relation to Arsheesh at all. That took a great weight off his mind. "Why, I might be anyone!" he thought. "I might be the son of a Tarkaan myself - or the son of the Tisroc (may he live for ever) or of a god!"
He was standing30 out in the grassy place before the cottage while he thought these things. Twilight31 was coming on apace and a star or two was already out, but the remains32 of the sunset could still be seen in the west. Not far away the stranger's horse, loosely tied to an iron ring in the wall of the donkey's stable, was grazing. Shasta strolled over to it and patted its neck. It went on tearing up the grass and took no notice of him.
Then another thought came into Shasta's mind. "I wonder what sort of a man that Tarkaan is," he said out loud. "It would be splendid if he was kind. Some of the slaves in a great lord's house have next to nothing to do. They wear lovely clothes and eat meat every day. Perhaps he'd take me to the wars and I'd save his life in a battle and then he'd set me free and adopt me as his son and give me a palace and a chariot and a suit of armour33. But then he might be a horrid34 cruel man. He might send me to work on the fields in chains. I wish I knew. How can I know? I bet this horse knows, if only he could tell me."
The Horse had lifted its head. Shasta stroked its smooth-as-satin nose and said, "I wish you could talk, old fellow."
And then for a second he thought he was dreaming, for quite distinctly, though in a low voice, the Horse said, "But I can."
Shasta stared into its great eyes and his own grew almost as big, with astonishment35.
"How ever did you learn to talk?" he asked.
"Hush36! Not so loud," replied the Horse. "Where I come from, nearly all the animals talk."
"Wherever is that?" asked Shasta.
"Narnia," answered the Horse. "The happy land of Narnia - Narnia of the heathery mountains and the thymy downs, Narnia of the many rivers, the plashing glens, the mossy caverns37 and the deep forests ringing with the hammers of the Dwarfs38. Oh the sweet air of Narnia! An hour's life there is better than a thousand years in Calormen." It ended with a whinny that sounded very like a sigh.
"How did you get here?" said Shasta.
"Kidnapped," said the Horse. "Or stolen, or captured whichever you like to call it. I was only a foal at the time. My mother warned me not to range the Southern slopes, into Archenland and beyond, but I wouldn't heed14 her. And by the Lion's Mane I have paid for my folly. All these years I have been a slave to humans, hiding my true nature and pretending to be dumb and witless like their horses."
"Why didn't you tell them who you were?"
"Not such a fool, that's why. If they'd once found out I could talk they would have made a show of me at fairs and guarded me more carefully than ever. My last chance of escape would have been gone."
"And why -" began Shasta, but the Horse interrupted him.
"Now look," it said, "we mustn't waste time on idle questions. You want to know about my master the Tarkaan Anradin. Well, he's bad. Not too bad to me, for a war horse costs too much to be treated very badly. But you'd better be lying dead tonight than go to be a human slave in his house tomorrow."
"Then I'd better run away," said Shasta, turning very pale.
"Yes, you had," said the Horse. "But why not run away with me?"
"Are you going to run away too?" said Shasta.
"Yes, if you'll come with me," answered the Horse. "This is the chance for both of us. You see if I run away without a rider, everyone who sees me will say "Stray horse" and be after me as quick as he can. With a rider I've a chance to get through. That's where you can help me. On the other hand, you can't get very far on those two silly legs of yours (what absurd legs humans have!) without being overtaken. But on me you can outdistance any other horse in this country. That's where I can help you. By the way, I suppose you know how to ride?"
"Oh yes, of course," said Shasta. "At least, I've ridden the donkey."
"Ridden the what?" retorted the Horse with extreme contempt. (At least, that is what he meant. Actually it came out in a sort of neigh - "Ridden the wha-ha-ha-ha-ha." Talking horses always become more horsy in accent when they are angry.)
"In other words," it continued, "you can't ride. That's a drawback. I'll have to teach you as we go along. If you can't ride, can you fall?"
"I suppose anyone can fall," said Shasta.
"1 mean can you fall and get up again without crying and mount again and fall again and yet not be afraid of falling?"
"I - I'll try," said Shasta. "Poor little beast," said the Horse in a gentler tone. "I forget you're only a foal. We'll make a fine rider of you in time. And now - we mustn't start until those two in the but are asleep. Meantime we can make our plans. My Tarkaan is on his way North to the great city, to Tashbaan itself and the court of the Tisroc -"
"I say," put in Shasta in rather a shocked voice, "oughtn't you to say `May he live for ever'?"
"Why?" asked the Horse. "I'm a free Narnian. And why should I talk slaves' and fools' talk? I don't want him to live for ever, and I know that he's not going to live for ever whether I want him to or not. And I can see you're from the free North too. No more of this Southern jargon39 between you and me! And now, back to our plans. As I said, my human was on his way North to Tashbaan."
"Does that mean we'd better go to the South?"
"I think not," said the Horse. "You see, he thinks I'm dumb and witless like his other horses. Now if I really were, the moment I got loose I'd go back home to my stable and paddock; back to his palace which is two days' journey South. That's where he'll look for me. He'd never dream of my going on North on my own. And anyway he will probably think that someone in the last village who saw him ride through has followed us to here and stolen me."
"Oh hurrah40!" said Shasta. "Then we'll go North. I've been longing41 to go to the North all my life."
"Of course you have," said the Horse. "That's because of the blood that's in you. I'm sure you're true Northern stock. But not too loud. I should think they'd be asleep soon now."
"I'd better creep back and see," suggested Shasta.
"That's a good idea," said the Horse. "But take care you're not caught."
It was a good deal darker now and very silent except for the sound of the waves on the beach, which Shasta hardly noticed because he had been hearing it day and night as long as he could remember. The cottage, as he approached it, showed no light. When he listened at the front there was no noise. When he went round to the only window, he could hear, after a second or two, the familiar noise of the old fisherman's squeaky snore. It was funny to think that if all went well he would never hear it again. Holding his breath and feeling a little bit sorry, but much less sorry than he was glad, Shasta glided42 away over the grass and went to the donkey's stable, groped along to a place he knew where the key was hidden, opened the door and found the Horse's saddle and bridle which had been locked up there for the night. He bent43 forward and kissed the donkey's nose. "I'm sorry we can't take you," he said.
"There you are at last," said the Horse when he got back to it. "I was beginning to wonder what had become of you."
"I was getting your things out of the stable," replied Shasta. "And now, can you tell me how to put them on?"
For the next few minutes Shasta was at work, very cautiously to avoid jingling44, while the Horse said things like, "Get that girth a bit tighter," or "You'll find a buckle45 lower down," or "You'll need to shorten those stirrups a good bit." When all was finished it said:
"Now; we've got to have reins46 for the look of the thing, but you won't be using them. Tie them to the saddle-bow: very slack so that I can do what I like with my head. And, remember - you are not to touch them."
"What are they for, then?" asked Shasta.
"Ordinarily they are for directing me," replied the Horse. "But as I intend to do all the directing on this journey, you'll please keep your hands to yourself. And there's another thing. I'm not going to have you grabbing my mane."
"But I say," pleaded Shasta. "If I'm not to hold on by the reins or by your mane, what am I to hold on by?"
"You hold on with your knees," said the Horse. "That's the secret of good riding. Grip my body between your knees as hard as you like; sit straight up, straight as a poker47; keep your elbows in. And by the way, what did you do with the spurs?"
"Put them on my heels, of course," said Shasta. "I do know that much."
"Then you can take them off and put them in the saddlebag. We may be able to sell them when we get to Tashbaan. Ready? And now I think you can get up."
"Ooh! You're a dreadful height," gasped48 Shasta after his first, and unsuccessful, attempt.
"I'm a horse, that's all," was the reply. "Anyone would think I was a haystack from the way you're trying to climb up me! There, that's better. Now sit up and remember what I told you about your knees. Funny to think of me who has led cavalry49 charges and won races having a potato-sack like you in the saddle! However, off we go." It chuckled50, not unkindly.
And it certainly began their night journey with great caution. First of all it went just south of the fisherman's cottage to the little river which there ran into the sea, and took care to leave in the mud some very plain hoof-marks pointing South. But as soon as they were in the middle of the ford51 it turned upstream and waded52 till they were about a hundred yards farther inland than the cottage. Then it selected a nice gravelly bit of bank which would take no footprints and came out on the Northern side. Then, still at a walking pace, it went Northward53 till the cottage, the one tree, the donkey's stable, and the creek - everything, in fact, that Shasta had ever known - had sunk out of sight in the grey summer-night darkness. They had been going uphill and now were at the top of the ridge - that ridge which had always been the boundary of Shasta's known world. He could not see what was ahead except that it was all open and grassy. It looked endless: wild and lonely and free.
"I say!" observed the Horse. "What a place for a gallop54, eh!"
"Oh don't let's," said Shasta. "Not yet. I don't know how to - please, Horse. I don't know your name."
"Breehy-hinny-brinny-hooky-hah," said the Horse.
"I'll never be able to say that," said Shasta. "Can I call you Bree?"
"Well, if it's the best you can do, I suppose you must," said the Horse. "And what shall I call you?"
"I'm called Shasta."
"H'm," said Bree. "Well, now, there's a name that's really hard to pronounce. But now about this gallop. It's a good deal easier than trotting55 if you only knew, because you don't have to rise and fall. Grip with your knees and keep your eyes straight ahead between my ears. Don't look at the ground. If you think you're going to fall just grip harder and sit up straighter. Ready? Now: for Narnia and the North."
这是个惊险故事，发生在黄金时代的纳尼亚王国和卡乐门王国，以及两国之间的地方。当年彼得是纳尼亚王国的至尊王，他的弟弟和两个妹妹，都是在他领导下的国王和女王。
在那些岁月里，在卡乐门王国遥远的南方，大海之滨的一个小港湾里，住着一个穷苦的渔夫叫做阿什伊什，有个孩子跟他一起住在那儿，管他叫爸爸。这孩子的名字叫沙斯塔。在大部分日子里，阿什伊什早晨坐船出去打鱼，下午把他的驴了安上一辆货车，把鱼装在车子里，走上一英里光景的路，到南边的村子里去出售。如果鱼卖得顺利，他回家时脾气就比较温和，对沙斯塔也不噜苏；然而，如果卖鱼的生意不好，他就会找沙斯塔的错儿，或者打他一顿。总是可以找到沙斯塔的错的，因为沙斯塔得干许许多多的活儿：修网洗网啰，做晚饭啰，打扫他们俩合住的房屋啰。
沙斯塔对他家南边的任何东西压根儿都不感兴趣，因为他跟阿什伊什到村子里去过一两次，知道那儿没什么有趣的事物。他在村子里只遇见跟他父亲一模一样的人们—穿着肮脏的长袍，脚蹬足尖翘起的木头鞋子，头戴缠头巾，满脸胡子，慢吞吞地讲些听起来单调乏味的话。但他对北边的一切东西都很感兴趣，因为没有人往北边去过，也从来不许他到北边去。他独自一人坐在屋子外补网时，时常充满渴望地朝北方眺望。望出去可只能见到一个青草茂盛的山坡，往上延伸到一个平坦的山脊，山脊外便是天空了，也许空中有几只飞鸟。
有时候，如果阿什伊什在他身边、沙斯塔会说：”我的父亲啊，小山外是什么地方?”如果渔夫心情不好，他就要打沙斯塔的耳光，叫他专心干好他的话儿。或者，如果他碰巧心平气和，他就会教诲他道：”我的儿子啊，别让不相干的问题分了你的心。有位诗人说道：心思用在生意上，乃是发财致富的根本；凡是打听与此无关的问题的人，便是正在把愚蠢的船向贫穷的礁石撞去。”
沙斯培认为：小山外必定有些令人愉快的秘密，他的爸爸却希望瞒过他，不让他知道。然而，事实上，渔夫之所以这样说，是因为他自己也不知道北方是什么地方。他并不关心这种问题。他的头脑是十分讲究实际的。
有一天，从南方来了一个陌生人，他跟沙斯塔以前见过的任何人都截然不同。他骑一匹强壮的花斑马，鬃毛和尾巴飘扬摇晃，马镫和马笼头都是镶银的。头盔的尖端从他那丝绸缠头巾中间突了出来，他上身穿一件锁子甲。他的身边挂一把弯弯的短刀，背后插一个圆圆的嵌着铜块的盾牌，右手握一柄长矛。他的脸是黧黑的，但沙斯塔对此并不感到奇怪、因为所有卡乐门王国的人都是这个样子的；使他诧异的是：那个人的胡子染得血红，拳曲而闪闪发光，还散发出阵阵油香。但阿什伊什凭着陌生人赤裸胳膊上的金环，认出他是个”泰坎”，或大王爷，他弯腰跪在泰坎的面前，直至胡子碰到了地面，他还作手势叫沙斯塔也跪下来。
陌生人要求招待他住一宿，渔夫当然不敢拒绝。他们把最好的食物都摆在泰坎面前，作为他的晚餐(他可都瞧不上眼)：至于沙斯塔呢，就像以往渔夫有客人时那样，给了他一大块面包就把他打发出屋子去了。遇到这种情况，沙斯塔总是跟驴子一起睡在它小小的茅草棚里。然而，睡觉还太早，沙斯塔坐下来，把耳朵凑在屋于木板墙的一条裂缝上，听大人们正在进行的谈话。沙斯塔从来不懂得，在门外窃听是错误的。下面便是他听到的谈话。"
“哦，我的主人啊，”泰坎说道，”我有意买下你那个孩子。”
“啊，我的王爷，”渔夫答道(沙斯塔从那阿谀媚的声调就想象得出他说话时可能在脸上露出来的贪婪神色)，”你的仆人尽管很穷，你出多大的价可以促使他把他的独生子、亲骨肉出卖为奴呢?不是有一位诗人说过吗：‘天生的慈爱比浓场强烈，子孙比红宝玉更有价值’?”
“尽管如此，”客人冷冰冰地答道，”另一位诗人说过这样的话：‘企图欺骗明智审慎者的人，已经暴露出他的背脊，快要挨鞭苔了。’你年迈的嘴巴可别谎话连篇。这孩子显然不是你的亲生儿子，因为你的面颊跟我的面颊一样漆黑、而这孩子的面颊生得漂亮雪白，就像住在遥远北方的、受到指责却很美丽的野蛮人一样。”
“有句话说得真好，”渔夫答道，”刀剑可以用盾牌抵挡，智慧的眼睛却洞穿一切防御。我的令人生畏的客人啊，因为我穷得厉害，我从来没有结过婚，更没有儿子。但就在蒂斯罗克(愿他万寿无疆)开始他威严而造福的统治那一年里，一天晚上，月亮圆圆的，众神一时高兴，使我睡不成觉。所以我就在这小屋里起了床，走出家门，到海滩上去，看看海水和月亮，呼吸呼吸凉快的空气，给自己提神醒脑。不一会儿我便听见一个声音，像是桨在水面上向我划过来的声音，接着，我又听见了一种仿佛是微弱的哭泣的声音。不久，湖水把一条小船冲上岸来，船里别无他物，只有一个因极端饥渴而瘦弱的男子(他似乎是几分钟以前才死去的，因为他的身体依旧是温暖的)，一只空空的贮水皮囊，以及一个还活着的孩了。‘毫无疑问，’我说，‘这两个不幸的人是从一艘失事大船中逃出来的，但出于神祗的令人钦佩的设计，年长的那一位自己不吃不喝，使孩子得以活了下来，他自己见到陆地时便死了。’所以。牢记着神祗从来不会不京嘉奖同赤贫者友好的人，受怜悯之心的推动(因为你的仆人是个软心肠的人)——”
“撇开你所有这些自我称赞的废话吧，”泰坎打断他的话，说道，”你收下了这个孩子，我知道这一点就足够了——随便什么人都看得出来，你从这孩子的劳动中获得的利益，其价值十倍于他日常吃的面包。你对这孩子要价多少，现在就立刻告诉我吧，我对你那滔滔不绝的说话，已经感到厌倦了。”
“你自己已经明智地说过了，”阿什伊什回答道，”这孩子的劳动对我有无法估计的价值。因为，如果我把这孩子卖掉，毫无疑问，我就得另外买一个或租一个孩子，来干他所干的活儿。”
“我愿意出十五个克利申买这孩子。”泰坎说。
“十五个！”阿什伊什叫了起来，那声调介于呜咽和尖叫之间。”十五个克利申！出这点钱就想弄走我老年的依靠和心中的喜悦！别嘲弄我这把白胡子了，尽管你是位泰坎。我定的价格是七十个克利申。”
沙斯塔听到这儿便站起身来，掂着脚走开了。他已经听见了他要听到的一切，因为他时常听见大人们在村子里讨价还价，知道交易是怎么做成的。他心里已经十分肯定，阿什伊什末了会以大大超过十五个克利申又大大低于七十个克利申的价格把他卖出去的，但阿什伊什和泰坎还要磨上好几个钟头才能达成协议哩。-
你可千万别认为，沙斯塔会像我们一样感到难过——如果我们偷听到我们的父母谈论把我们卖身为奴的话。他压根儿不难受。一则是他的生活已经比奴隶生活好不了多少，说不定那位骑着大马的王爷似的陌生人，会比阿什伊什待他仁慈一点也未可知哩；二则是那个说是在小船里发现了他的故事，使他心中十分激动，而且还有一种安慰之感。他曾经时常于心不安：无论他怎么努力，他可从来没有爱过这渔夫，而他心里是明白的，一个孩子应该爱他的父亲。可现在，事情明明白白，他压根儿跟阿什伊什毫无血缘关系。这就把他心上的沉重负担卸掉了。”呀，我可能是随便什么人！”他想，”我可能就是—个泰坎的亲生儿子——或者是蒂斯罗克(愿他万寿无疆)的儿子——或者是一个神抵的儿子！”
他心中想着这些事情时，正站在屋子外的草地上。暮色迅速降临，有—两颗星星已经出现了，而西方夕照的余霞依稀可见。不远处，陌生人的马儿正在吃草，它被松松地系在驴棚墙上的一个铁圈里。沙斯塔踅过去，拍拍马儿的颈子。马儿继续把青草拉起来咬嚼，没注意沙斯塔。
接着，沙斯塔又想到了一个念头。”我不知道这泰坎是哪一种人，”他大声说道，”如果他是仁慈和蔼的，那就好极了。在大王爷的王府里，有些奴隶几乎是不干什么活儿的。他们穿上漂亮的衣服，天天吃肉。也许他会带我去打仗，我又在一场战斗中救了他的命，他就会解除我的奴隶身份，收我做他的义子，赐给我一个王宫，一辆战车，一套盔甲。不过他也可能是个可怕的残酷的人。他会叫我戴上锁链到田里去干活，我希望我知道他是个怎样的人。我怎么才能知道呢，我敢打赌，这马儿是知道的，如果它能告诉我就好了。”
马儿抬起头来。沙斯塔抚摩着它那光滑得像缎子一样的鼻子，说道：”老人家，我但愿你能说话啊。”
接着，他一时间认为他是在做梦，因为，尽管声音低沉，马儿十分清晰地开口道：”我是能够说话的。”
沙斯塔盯住马儿的大眼睛直瞧，他自己的眼睛也惊讶得睁大了，几乎跟马眼一般大。
“你究竟怎么学会说话的呀?”他问。
“别嚷嚷！嗓门儿不用这么大，”马儿回答道，”我原来住的地方，几乎所有的动物都说话。”
“那个地方究竟在哪儿?”沙斯塔问。
“在纳尼亚，”马儿答道，”纳尼亚乐土——纳尼亚有着石南茂盛的山岭和百里香遍地的丘陵。纳尼亚河流众多，峡谷水声温湿，山洞长满苍苔，幽深的树林里响彻小矮人的锤声。纳尼亚的空气多么芬芳啊！纳尼亚生活一小时胜过在卡乐门生活一千年。”结尾是一声马嘶，听上去很像一声长叹。
“你怎么上这儿来的?”沙斯塔问。
“给绑架来的，”马儿说道，”也可以说是给偷来或俘虏来的——你爱怎么说都行。我那时不过是一头小马驹。我的母亲警告过我，叫我别逛到南边的山坡去，别闯进阿钦兰或阿钦兰之外的地方去，可是我不肯听它的话。天哪，我为我的愚蠢付出了代价。所有这些年月，我一直是人的奴隶，隐藏我真正的本性，假装哑巴，假装愚蠢，假装就像他们的马儿那样。”
“为什么你不告诉他们你是谁呢?”
“我才不是那种傻瓜呢。一旦他们发现了我是谁，他们就会送我到市场上去展览，比过去更加小心地看管我。我逃走的最后机会也就完蛋了。”
“那又为什么——”沙斯塔开始说道，可是马儿打断了他的话。
“注意啰，”马儿说，”我们千万不要把时间浪费在不相干的问题上了。你要打听我的主人泰坎安拉丁?哦，他是个坏人，他对待我可不太坏，因为过分亏待一匹战马，后果就太严重了。然而，你与其明天到他王府里去做一个奴隶，还不如今天夜里躺下去死掉的好。”
“那么我还是逃跑的好。”沙斯塔说道，脸色都急得煞白了。
“是的，你还是逃跑的好，”马儿说，”可你为什么不跟我一起逃跑呢?”
“你也要逃跑吗?。沙斯塔说。
“是的，如果你愿意跟我一起走的话。”马儿答道，”对咱们俩，这都是个机会。你瞧，如果我自己跑出去，却没有个骑马的人，每个看见我的人都会说我是一头‘走失的马’，就会拼命来追我了。有个骑马的人，我才能通行无阻。那就是你可以帮我忙的地方。另一方面，靠你那愚蠢可笑的两腿，(人的腿真是荒唐可笑！)你是没法儿走远的，总要被追上来逮住的。然而骑在我身上，你就可以把这个国家里其他任何马儿都远远地抛在后面。那就是我可以帮你忙的地方。顺便问一句，你大概懂得怎样骑马吧?”
“是啊，当然会骑的呀。”沙斯塔说，”至少我骑过驴子。”
“骑过什么?”马儿十分鄙夷地反唇相讥道。(至少，马儿是这个意思。实际上它发出了一种嘶鸣的声音：”骑过哇——哈——哈——哈。”会说话的马儿，当它们愤怒的时候，马腔马调就更加浓重了。
“换句话说，”马儿继续说道，”你不会骑马。那倒是个麻烦。一路上我得教你骑马。如果你不会骑马，你会跌跤吗?”
“我想谁都会跌跤的吧。”沙斯塔说。
“我的意思是，你有没有这个能耐：从马上摔下来了，就一声不吭地从地上爬起来，重新爬到马背上，再一次从马背上摔下来，然而依旧不害怕跌跤?”
“我——我试试吧。”沙斯塔说。
“可怜的小牲口，”马儿用比较温和的语调说道，”我忘了你不过是头小驹子。我要及时地把你训练成一个好骑手。眼下——屋子里那两个人睡熟之前，我们千万不要动身。在这段时间里，我们可以把计划商量好。我那泰坎是在往北到大城市去的途中，他要到塔什班城，要到蒂斯罗克的宫廷——”
“我说，”沙斯塔用吓了一跳的声音插嘴道，”你应该说‘愿他万寿无疆’吧?”
“为什么?”马儿问道、”我是头自由的纳尼亚马，为什么我该像奴隶和傻瓜一样说话?我并不要他万寿无疆，而且我也知道，不论我要不要，他是不会万寿无疆的。你和我之间别再说这种南方的屁话了I现在回到我们的计划上来吧。就像我说过的，我的那个人正往北方走，要到塔什班去。”
“你的意思是说，我们还是往南方去的好?”
“我不是这个意思。”马儿道，”你瞧，他认为我不会说话，毫不聪明，就跟他其他的马儿一样。这样的话，他认为我走散后会回到家里。走进我的马厩和围场。回他的王府要向南走两天的路程，他会在那儿寻找我。他做梦也想不到我会按照自己的意思往北走的。再说，他很可能认为有人看见他骑马走过最后一个村子时，钉上了我们的梢，到这儿便把我偷走了。”
“啊，好极了！”沙斯塔说道，”那么我们就决定往北走。我一生都渴望着要到北方去啊。”
“当然你曾经渴望过的，”马儿说，”那是由于你身体里的血统的缘故。我确信你是真正的北方种。可是说话别太响了。我倒认为现在他们快要睡熟了。”
“我还是爬回去瞧瞧的好。”沙斯塔建议。
“那是个好主意，”马儿说，”不过你要留神别给逮住。”
现在天黑得多了，也十分寂静，只听见海滩上的涛声；沙斯塔可毫不注意涛声，因为就他能记事的岁月以来，他日日夜夜听到的就是涛声。他走近时，屋子里没露出灯光来。他在前门侧耳静听，没有声音。他绕到惟一的一个窗子下面，过了一两秒钟，他能听到熟悉的老渔夫的呼呼鼾声了。想起来也好笑，如果一切顺利，他就会从此不再听到达鼾声了。他屏息静气，稍稍感到有点儿遗憾，但毕竟是快乐多于遗憾。沙斯塔悄悄走过草地，走到驴棚去。他摸索着走到一个他知道是藏钥匙的地方，打开门，找到了马鞍子和马笼头(那是搁在那儿过夜的)。他俯下身来吻吻驴子的鼻子。”我很抱歉，不能带你一起走。”他说。
“你终于来了，”他回去时马儿说道，”我正琢磨你到哪儿去了呢。”
“我从驴棚里把你的东西拿了出来，”沙斯塔答道，”你能告诉我怎样把它们放到你身上去吗?”
接下来的几分钟沙斯塔就忙着干活了，小心翼翼地避免发出丁丁当当的声音，马儿则说些类似这样的话：”把肚带收紧一点儿”，或是”再往下一点你就找到带扣了”，或是”你必须把马镫缩短一点才行。。当一切都装配好了，马儿说道：”好了，为了装门面，咱们得配上缰绳，但你可用不着经绳。缚在鞍子的前弯上好了；要缚得十分宽松，让我的脑袋可以自由活动。而且记住了——你可别去碰那缰绳。”
“那么缰绳有什么用处呢?”沙斯塔问道。
“寻常是用来给我指引方向的，”马儿道，”然而这次行我要由我自己来指引方向，所以就请你袖手旁观吧。还有一件事，我可不要你揪住我的鬃毛。”
“可是，请问，”沙斯塔恳求道，”如果我不抓住缰绳也不揪住你的鬃毛，我怎么能坐稳身体呢?”
“用你的双膝夹住我。”马儿道，”那才是骑马骑得高明的诀窍，用你的双膝把我的身体夹住，你爱夹多紧就夹多紧；你要坐得笔直，像根拔火棒，肘拐儿要收拢。顺便问一句，你怎么处理马刺呢?”
“当然装在我的脚后跟上啦，”沙斯塔说，”我就知道这么点儿。”
“那你不妨把马刺卸下来，搁在鞍囊里。我们到达塔什班时，也许能把马刺卖了。准备好了?那么我想现在你可以跳上来了。”
“啊！你高大得好可怕啊！”第一次试图跳上马去，却没有成功，他气喘吁吁地说道。
“我是一匹马，不过是一匹马罢了。”这是马儿的回答，”从你竭力爬到我背亡来的模样儿看来，随便什么人都会认为我是个高高的干草堆了。行，这回好多了。身体坐直，牢记我讲过的夹紧双膝的话。我当年在骑兵队冲锋时—马当先，在赛马时获得胜利，如今却在背上驮了个像袋土豆似的你，想想也觉得好笑！不管怎么样，咱们还是出发吧。”马儿并无恶意地偷偷暗笑。
马儿确实十分小心翼翼地开始了夜间跋涉。它首先朝渔夫屋子的南边走去，一直走到小河边，(小河在那儿奔流人海，)故意在泥沙上留下一些十分明显的往南而去的蹄痕。但当他们到了小河中可以涉水而过的地方时，便转过身来逆流而上，涉水走去，走得比渔夫的屋子还要深入内陆一百码光景，然后选定一小块适宜的、不会留下足迹的砾石河岸，登上了河流的北岸。接着、仍旧慢步向北走去，一直走到那渔夫的屋子，那一棵树，那驴棚，那河流—事实上，沙斯塔熟悉的一切——都融入夏夜苍茫的黑暗之中，看也看不见了。他们走的是上坡路，现在他们来到山脊的顶上了——就是这个山脊，曾经是沙斯塔所知道的世界的边界。沙斯培看不清前边是什么，只看见这地方十分开阔，青草萋萋。这地方一望无际；荒野、寂寞、自由自在。
马儿评论道，”好一个放马驰骋的地方！可不是吗？”
“啊，可别跑快了，”沙斯塔说，”还不能飞跑，我不知道怎样——请你告诉我，马儿，我不知道你的名字。”
“布里海一希尼一布林尼一霍海一哈。”马儿说。
“我永远说不了那么长长的名字，”沙斯塔说，”我能管你叫布里吗?”
“行，如果你竭尽全力也只能叫我布里的话。”马儿说，”那么我叫你什么呢?”
“我叫沙斯塔。”
“嗯，”布里说道，”啊，那倒是个真正难以发音的名字。可是，谈谈驰骋飞跑吧。那可比你所知道的小跑容易得多哩，因为你用不到起伏颠簸。你用双膝夹住，眼睛从我两耳之间笔直望着前方。别看地面。如果你觉得你快要摔下来了，你就夹得更紧、坐得更直。准备好了?现在直奔纳尼亚，直奔北方。
收听单词发音 |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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indigence
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| n.贫穷 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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spike
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| n.长钉，钉鞋；v.以大钉钉牢，使...失效 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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wheedling
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| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的现在分词 ) | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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judicious
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| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
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scourge
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| n.灾难，祸害；v.蹂躏 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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loquacity
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| n.多话，饶舌 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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prop
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| vt.支撑；n.支柱，支撑物；支持者，靠山 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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36
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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caverns
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| 大山洞，大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
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38
dwarfs
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| n.侏儒，矮子（dwarf的复数形式）vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的第三人称单数形式） | |
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jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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41
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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42
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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jingling
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| 叮当声 | |
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buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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50
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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waded
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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