《銀椅》第9章:真相大白
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?"
“她們這個年紀的都是些可愛的小東西，”一個女巨人對另一個說，“這似乎有點可憐……”
斯克羅布和普德格倫也都使出渾身解數，但女孩子做這種事總比男孩子強，甚至連男孩子做這種事也比沼澤怪強。"
午飯時又出了件事，使他們三個格外急着要離開斯文巨人的城堡了。他們在大廳裏靠近火爐的地方一張小桌上用餐。大約二十碼以外，在一張大桌子旁邊，坐着六個老巨人也在用餐。他們說話聲音那麼吵，那麼響，兩個孩子一下子就不去注意這些話了，正像你對窗外的汽笛聲和街上交通往來的聲音也不注意一樣。他們正在吃冷的鹿肉，這是吉爾以前從來沒吃過的食品，她倒很喜歡吃。
突然間普德格倫向他們轉過身來，它的臉色變得那麼蒼白，你能從它那天然泥土色的皮膚上也看得出這份蒼白。它說
“一口也別吃了！”
“怎麼啦？”另外兩個悄悄地問。
“你們沒聽見那些巨人說的話嗎？一個說，‘那是一大塊嫩鹿腿肉。'另一個說，‘那麼說那隻鹿在說謊了。'一個又說，‘爲什麼？'‘哦，'另外那個說，‘他們說抓住這隻鹿的時候，它說‘別殺我，我的肉很老，你們不會喜歡我的’”。
吉爾一時沒領會這句話的全部意義。但看到斯克羅布嚇得眼睛睜得大大的，她就明白了。他說:
“原來我們正在吃一隻會說話的鹿。”
這個發現對他們三個來說，其影響並不完全一樣。吉爾是剛到這個世界的，心裏爲這隻可憐的鹿感到難過，並認爲殺了它的那些巨人很壞。斯克羅布以前來過這個世界，他的好朋友中至少有一隻是會說話的獸類，心裏感到不寒而慄，就像你對謀殺案的感受一樣。而普德格倫，它生長在納尼亞，覺得噁心，要昏過去，它的感覺就像發現自己吃下了一個娃娃似的。
“我們惹阿斯蘭動怒了，”它說，“那是我們不照指示做的結果。我想，我們正受到詛咒。要是允許的話，我們最好拿起這些刀，對着自己的心臟刺進去。”
甚至吉爾也漸漸理解了它的觀點。總之，他們大家一點也不想吃了。一等到他們認爲比較安全的時候，他們就悄悄溜出了大廳。
現在決定他們逃跑希望成敗的時間快到了，大家都變得很緊張。他們在過道里閒逛，等着周圍靜下來。大廳裏的巨人吃完飯還坐了很長時間。一個禿頂巨人正在講故事。等故事講完，他們三個又混到廚房裏。但那兒仍然有好多巨人，至少在洗碗間裏有好多人，洗洗涮涮，收拾東西。等着這些人幹完活，一個一個擦擦手走開，真是件極其痛苦的事。最後廚房裏只留下一個上了年紀的女巨人了。她東走走，西逛逛，他們三個終於厭惡地明白她根本就沒打算走。
“好了，寶貝兒，”她對他們說，“那些活兒都差不多幹完了。我們放上一隻水壺。一會兒就可以煮上一杯好茶。這會兒我要休息一下。做個好寶寶，去看看洗碗間裏頭，告訴我那扇後門開着嗎？”
“開着。”斯克羅布說。
“對了，我總是讓門開着，那麼貓咪就能出出進進了，可憐的小東西。”
接着她在一隻椅子上坐下，把雙腳擱在另一隻椅子上。
“不知道我能不能打個盹兒，”那女巨人說，“只要那夥混蛋打獵的別那麼快回來就好了。”
他們聽到她提起打盹兒，頓時情緒高漲，再聽到她提起打獵那夥人回頭又垂頭喪氣了。
“他們通常什麼時候回來？”吉爾問。
“從來就沒個準，”女巨人說，“不過，得了，寶貝兒，你們去安靜一會兒吧。”
他們退到廚房盡頭，要不是那女巨人坐起來，張開眼睛，揮開一隻蒼蠅，他們早就溜進洗碗間去了。“到確定她真的睡着了再溜，”斯克羅布小聲說，“否則一切都完蛋。”於是他們全都蜷縮在廚房盡頭等啊，看啊。想到那些打獵的隨時都可能回來不免心驚肉跳。而那個女巨人又睡得不安生。每當他們認爲她真睡着了，她又動了。
“這樣我可受不了。”吉爾想道。爲了分散注意力，她就東張西望。面前正好有一張乾淨的大桌子，上面有兩隻放餡餅的乾淨盤子，還有一本打開的書。那當然是巨人的盤子，吉爾想她可以舒舒服服躺在盤子裏口隨後她就爬到桌邊的長凳上，去看看那本書。她看到:6
野鴨:這種美味的野禽可以用多種方式烹調。
“是本烹調書。”吉爾不大感興趣地想，又回頭望了一眼。女巨人眼睛閉着，但看上去她似乎沒睡熟。吉爾又回頭看這本書。書是按字母排列的，看到下一條，她的心似乎都停止跳動了。
人:這種文雅的兩足小動物很久以來一直被珍視爲美味佳餚，也形成了秋季盛宴的一道傳統菜。上菜應在魚和帶骨腿肉之間。每個人……但她再也看不下去了。她轉過身去。女巨人已經醒來，正咳嗽不止口吉爾輕輕推推另外兩個，並指指那本書。他們也爬上長凳，彎腰看着那巨大的書頁。斯克羅布還在看人的烹調法時，普德格倫指着下面一條。上面這樣寫着:
沼澤怪:某些權威不吃這種動物，因爲其肉多筋堅韌，有泥土味，認爲其不適合巨人食用，不過此味可以大大減少，只要……吉爾輕輕碰碰普德格倫和斯克羅布的腳。大家都回頭看看女巨人。只見她嘴巴微微張開，鼻子裏響起一種那時對他們來說比任何音樂更中日斤的聲音：她在打呼嚕呢。這會兒只是踮着腳走路的問題了，他們不敢走得太快，也不大敢呼吸，就這麼走出了洗碗間(巨人的洗碗間味道可難聞呢)，終於來到冬日下午淡淡的陽光下。
他們走在一條崎嶇不平的小路上，小路下坡十分陡峭。感謝老天爺，就在城堡右面，已經看得見那廢墟城了。一會兒工夫，他們就回到城堡大門通下來那條寬闊、陡峭的大路上。城堡那邊的每扇窗戶也都看得見他們。要是那邊只有一兩扇，或五扇窗戶，倒還可能碰巧沒人往外看。可那兒有將近五十扇窗戶，而不是五扇。這時他們才明白他們走的這條路，以及他們和廢墟城之間那段地面，連一隻狐狸躲藏的地方都沒有。這兒全是粗糙的野草和鵝卵石，以及平坦的石塊。更糟糕的是他們現在都穿着昨晚巨人給他們的衣服，除了普德格倫，因爲沒有適合它穿的。吉爾穿了件嫩綠色袍子，袍子又太長，外面罩了一件鑲着白色毛皮的猩紅色披鳳。斯克羅布穿着猩紅色長襪子，藍色緊身短上衣和斗篷，帶着一把金柄的劍，還戴了一頂插着羽毛的帽子。
“你們倆的顏色真好，”普德格倫喃喃說，“在冬日裏顯得真漂亮。要是你們在射程以內，最糟的弓箭手也射得中你們倆口說起弓箭手，我們不久就要爲自己沒帶弓箭而遺憾了，我不會奇怪的。你們那些衣服也有點薄吧？”
“是啊，我已經冷極了。”吉爾說。
剛纔那會兒他們在廚房裏的時候，她曾想過只要他們一逃出城堡，就差不多大功告成了。現在她才明白最危險的時刻還沒到呢。
“沉住氣，沉住氣，”普德格倫說，“別往後看。另外走得太快。隨便你怎麼走，別跑。看上去我們似乎正在散步，那麼，要是有人看見我們，他可能，只是可能，不來打擾。我們看上去像是逃走的人，那就完了。”
到廢墟城那段路似乎比吉爾心目中認爲的更長。但他們還是一點一點走過去。這時傳來了一種聲音，另外兩個氣也透不過來了。吉爾不知道那是什麼，問道”那是什麼呀？”
“打獵的號角聲。”斯克羅布悄聲說。
“不過即使到了這時刻也別跑，”普德格倫說，“等我下了命令再跑。”
這回吉爾忍不住回頭望了一眼。那邊，大約半英里以外，打獵的從他們左後方回來了。
他們繼續往前走，突然間響起好多巨人吵吵嚷嚷的聲音，接着是大喊大叫。
“他們看見我們了，跑啊。”普德格倫說。
吉爾提起她的長裙就跑，穿着這長裙跑起來真討厭。現在確實有危險了。她聽得見獵狗的叫聲。聽得見國王在咆哮“抓住他們，抓住他們，否則我們明天就沒有人肉餡餅了。”
這會兒她已經落在最後一個了，衣服絆手絆腳，滑倒在鬆散的石頭上，頭髮披散到嘴裏，胸口跑得發疼。獵狗更近了。現在她得往山上跑，跑到通往底下一級大石階的那個斜坡。她不知道他們跑到那兒之後怎麼辦，也不知道即使到了頂上他們情況會不會好一些。但她不想那些事。目前她像一隻被追捕的動物；只要那羣狗在追她，她就得跑到倒下爲止。
沼澤怪跑在前面。它剛到底下一級石階就停下了，朝稍右一點地方看看，突然衝進石階底部的一個小洞或是裂縫裏去了。它的長腿一下就看不見了，看上去真像一隻蜘蛛。斯克羅布猶疑了一下，接着跟在它後頭也不見人影了。吉爾氣喘吁吁，搖搖晃晃，過一會兒也到了這個地方。這洞一點也不起眼——只是泥地和石頭之間的一條裂縫罷了。大約有三英尺長，不到一英尺高。你得撲在地上爬進去。你也不能爬得最快。她確信自己還沒爬到洞裏，狗就會來咬住她了。
“快，快，石頭，把口子堵上。”普德格倫的聲音從她身邊暗處傳來。除了他們爬進來的那條裂縫有點灰濛濛的光，裏面是一片漆黑。另外兩個正在大忙特忙。她看得見斯克羅布那雙小手和沼澤怪那雙像青蛙爪子的大於，揹着光看上去黑乎乎的，正在拼命堆石頭。這時她才明白這有多麼重要，自己也開始摸着找大石頭，遞給另外兩個。他們總算趕在獵狗到洞口狂吠之前把洞堵得嚴嚴實實。眼前，他們當然一點也沒亮光了。
“再往裏走，快。”普德格倫的聲音說。”我們大家手拉手吧。”吉爾說。
“好主意。”斯克羅布說。但黑暗中要尋找彼此的手也費了好長時間。獵狗這會兒正在石壘那一邊嗅氣味呢。
“試試看能不能站起來？”斯克羅布建議道。他們試了，發現他們能站起來。接着，普德格倫伸出一隻手從後面拉着斯克羅布，斯克羅布伸出一隻手從後面拉着吉爾(她真希望她站在他倆中間而不是最後)，他們開始用腳探着路，在黑暗中跌跌撞撞往前走。腳下全是鬆散的石頭。後來普德格倫走到一堵石牆前面。他們稍稍往右拐，繼續走下去。那兒有好多彎道和拐角。吉爾已經根本不辨方向，也不知道洞口在什麼地方了。
“問題是，”普德格倫的聲音從前面黑暗中傳來，“總的看來，要是我們能回去的話，回去讓巨人在他們的盛宴上請客，比起在小山溝裏迷路也不見得好，這裏十之八九有龍，有深洞，有沼氣，還有水，還有——哎呀！放手！保住你們自己。我……”
說時遲，那時快，一下子只聽得一聲狂叫，一陣沙喇喇、譁嚓嚓的聲音，石頭骨碌碌滾動。吉爾只覺得自己在滑下去，滑下去，毫無希望地滑下去，每滑下一個越來越陡的斜坡，就滑得更快。這不是一種光滑、結實的斜坡，而是小石子和碎屑的斜坡。即使你能站起來也沒用。你踩住斜坡任何一片地方，都會從腳下滑掉把你拖下去。但吉爾與其說是站着，不如說是躺着。他們滑得越遠，越是把所有的石頭和泥土都攪亂了，攪得一切都一齊往下衝(也包括他們自己)，衝勢越來越快，越來越響，越來越塵土飛揚，越來越髒。從另外兩個的尖聲叫喊和罵聲裏，吉爾知道她踩掉的石頭有好多重重砸在斯克羅布和普德格倫身上。目前她正以飛快速度滑下去，她確信自己掉到底下時準會粉身碎骨。
然而不知怎麼的，他們並沒粉身碎骨。他們摔得全都青一塊，紫一塊的，她臉上那又溼又季佔的東西好像是血。那麼大一堆碎土、砂石和大石塊都堆在她周圍(有些還高過她)，使她沒法站起來。這兒黑咕隆咚，睜着眼閉着眼都一樣。一點聲音也沒有。這真是吉爾一生中最最糟糕的時刻。假定只有她一個人，假定別人……這時她聽見身邊有動靜。不久，他們三個，聲音哆嗦地都在說看來他們誰也沒有摔斷骨頭。/
“我們再也上不去了。”斯克羅布的聲音說。
“你們注意到這兒多麼暖和嗎？”普德格倫的聲音說。”那就是說我們已經滑下很長一段路了。可能有一英里左右吧。”
誰也不說話。過了一會兒，普德格倫又加了→句.
“我的引火盒不見了。”
又歇了很長一段時間，吉爾說“我口渴極了。”
沒人提出幹什麼。明擺着這兒沒什麼可乾的。目前他們並不像預料中感到那麼糟，那是因爲他們都很累了。
很久很久以後，冷不防，一個完全陌生的聲音說話了。
他們立刻就知道這可不是大家暗暗盼望的聲音，不是阿斯蘭的聲音。那是一種陰沉單調的聲音——要是你明白那是什麼意思，幾乎可以說是一種漆黑的聲音。它說：
“上面世界的人，你們怎麼到這兒來了？”
