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chater even the hill f the tran trenche（第1页）

THEREisnodenyingitwasabeastofaday。Overheadwasasunlesssky，muffledincloudsthatwereheavywithsnow；underfoot，ablackfrost；blowingoverit，awindthatfeltasifitwouldtakeyourskinoff。Whentheygotdownintotheplaintheyfoundthatthispartoftheancientroadwasmuchmoreruinousthananytheyhadyetseen。Theyhadtopicktheirwayovergreatbrokenstonesandbetweenbouldersandacrossrubble：hardgoingforsorefeet。And，howevertiredtheygot，itwasfartoocoldforahalt。

Ataboutteno’clockthefirsttinysnowflakescameloiteringdownandsettledonJill’sarm。Tenminuteslatertheywerefallingquitethickly。Intwentyminutesthegroundwasnoticeablywhite。Andbytheendofhalfanhouragoodsteadysnowstorm，whichlookedasifitmeanttolastallday，wasdrivingintheirfacessothattheycouldhardlysee。

Inordertounderstandwhatfollowed，youmustkeeponrememberinghowlittletheycouldsee。Astheydrewnearthelowhillwhichseparatedthemfromtheplacewherethelightedwindowshadappeared，theyhadnogeneralviewofitatall。Itwasaquestionofseeingthenextfewpacesahead，and，evenforthat，youhadtoscrewupyoureyes。Needlesstosay，theywerenottalking。

Whentheyreachedthefootofthehilltheycaughtaglimpseofwhatmightberocksoneachside—squarishrocks，ifyoulookedatthemcarefully，butnoonedid。Allweremoreconcernedwiththeledgerightinfrontofthemwhichbarredtheirway。Itwasaboutfourfeethigh。TheMarsh-wiggle，withhislonglegs，hadnodifficultyinjumpingontothetopofit，andhethenhelpedtheothersup。Itwasanastywetbusinessforthem，thoughnotforhim，becausethesnownowlayquitedeepontheledge。Theythenhadastiffclimb—Jillfellonce—upveryroughgroundforaboutahundredyards，andcametoasecondledge。Therewerefouroftheseledgesaltogether，atquiteirregularintervals。

Astheystruggledontothefourthledge，therewasnomistakingthefactthattheywerenowatthetopoftheflathill。Uptillnowtheslopehadgiventhemsomeshelter；here，theygotthefullfuryofthewind。Forthehill，oddlyenough，wasquiteasflatontopasithadlookedfromadistance：agreatleveltablelandwhichthestormtoreacrosswithoutresistance。Inmostplacesthesnowwasstillhardlylyingatall，forthewindkeptcatchingitupoffthegroundinsheetsandclouds，andhurlingitintheirfaces。Androundtheirfeetlittleeddiesofsnowranaboutasyousometimesseethemdoingoverice。And，indeed，inmanyplaces，thesurfacewasalmostassmoothasice。Buttomakemattersworseitwascrossedandcrisscrossedwithcuriousbanksordykes，whichsometimesdivideditupintosquaresandoblongs。Alltheseofcoursehadtobeclimbed；theyvariedfromtwotofivefeetinheightandwereaboutacoupleofyardsthick。Onthenorthsideofeachbankthesnowalreadylayindeepdrifts；andaftereachclimbyoucamedownintoadriftandgotwet。

Fightingherwayforwardwithhoodupandheaddownandnumbhandsinsidehercloak，Jillhadglimpsesofotheroddthingsonthathorribletableland—thingsonherrightthatlookedvaguelylikefactorychimneys，and，onherleft，ahugecliff，straighterthananycliffoughttobe。Butshewasn’tatallinterestedanddidn’tgivethemathought。Theonlythingsshethoughtaboutwerehercoldhands（andnoseandchinandears）andhotbathsandbedsatHarfang。

Suddenlysheskidded，slidaboutfivefeet，andfoundherselftoherhorrorslidingdownintoadark，narrowchasmwhichseemedthatmomenttohaveappearedinfrontofher。Halfasecondlatershehadreachedthebottom。Sheappearedtobeinakindoftrenchorgroove，onlyaboutthreefeetwide。Andthoughshewasshakenbythefall，almostthefirstthingshenoticedwasthereliefofbeingoutofthewind；forthewallsofthetrenchrosehighaboveher。Thenextthingshenoticedwas，naturally，theanxiousfacesofScrubbandPuddleglumlookingdownatherfromtheedge。

“Areyouhurt，Pole？”shoutedScrubb。

“Bothlegsbroken，Ishouldn’twonder，”shoutedPuddleglum。

Jillstoodupandexplainedthatshewasallright，butthey’dhavetohelpherout。

“Whatisityou’vefalleninto？”askedScrubb。

“It’sakindoftrench，oritmightbeakindofsunkenlaneorsomething，”saidJill。“Itrunsquitestraight。”

“Yes，byJove，”saidScrubb。“Anditrunsduenorth！Iwonderisitasortofroad？Ifitwas，we’dbeoutofthisinfernalwinddownthere。Istherealotofsnowatthebottom？”

“Hardlyany。Itallblowsoverthetop，Isuppose。”

“Whathappensfartheron？”

“Halfasecond。I’llgoandsee，”saidJill。Shegotupandwalkedalongthetrench；butbeforeshehadgonefar，itturnedsharplytotheright。Sheshoutedthisinformationbacktotheothers。

“What’sroundthecorner？”askedScrubb。

NowithappenedthatJillhadthesamefeelingabouttwistypassagesanddarkplacesunderground，orevennearlyunderground，thatScrubbhadabouttheedgesofcliffs。Shehadnointentionofgoingroundthatcorneralone；especiallywhensheheardPuddleglumbawlingoutfrombehindher：

“Becareful，Pole。It’sjustthesortofplacethatmightleadtoadragon’scave。Andinagiantcountry，theremightbegiantearth-wormsorgiantbeetles。”

“Idon’tthinkitgoesanywheremuch，”saidJill，cominghastilyback。

“I’mjollywellgoingtohavealook，”saidScrubb。“Whatdoyoumeanbyanywheremuch，Ishouldliketoknow？”Sohesatdownontheedgeofthetrench（everyonewastoowetbynowtobotheraboutbeingabitwetter）andthendroppedin。HepushedpastJilland，thoughhedidn’tsayanything，shefeltsurethatheknewshehadfunkedit。Soshefollowedhimclose，buttookcarenottogetinfrontofhim。

Itproved，however，adisappointingexploration。Theywentroundtheright-handturnandstraightonforafewpaces。Heretherewasachoiceofways：straightonagain，orsharptotheright。“That’snogood，”saidScrubb，glancingdowntheright-handturn，“thatwouldbetakingusback—south。”Hewentstraighton，butoncemore，inafewsteps，theyfoundasecondturntotheright。Butthistimetherewasnochoiceofways，forthetrenchtheyhadbeenfollowingherecametoadeadend。

“Nogood，”gruntedScrubb。Jilllostnotimeinturningandleadingthewayback。WhentheyreturnedtotheplacewhereJillhadfirstfallenin，theMarsh-wigglewithhislongarmshadnodifficultyinpullingthemout。

Butitwasdreadfultobeoutontopagain。Downinthosenarrowslitsoftrenches，theirearshadalmostbeguntothaw。Theyhadbeenabletoseeclearlyandbreatheeasilyandheareachotherspeakwithoutshouting。Itwasabsolutemiserytocomebackintothewitheringcoldness。AnditdidseemhardwhenPuddleglumchosethatmomentforsaying：

“Areyoustillsureofthosesigns，Pole？What’stheoneweoughttobeafter，now？”

“Oh，comeon！Botherthesigns，”saidPole。“SomethingaboutsomeonementioningAslan’sname，Ithink。ButI’mjollywellnotgoingtogivearecitationhere。”

Asyousee，shehadgottheorderwrong。Thatwasbecauseshehadgivenupsayingthesignsovereverynight。Shestillreallyknewthem，ifshetroubledtothink：butshewasnolongerso“pat”inherlessonastobesureofreelingthemoffintherightorderatamoment’snoticeandwithoutthinking。Puddleglum’squestionannoyedherbecause，deepdowninsideher，shewasalreadyannoyedwithherselffornotknowingtheLion’slessonquitesowellasshefeltsheoughttohaveknownit。Thisannoyance，addedtothemiseryofbeingverycoldandtired，madehersay，“Botherthesigns。”Shedidn’tperhapsquitemeanit。

“Oh，thatwasnext，wasit？”saidPuddleglum。“NowIwonder，areyouright？Got’emmixed，Ishouldn’twonder。Itseemstome，thishill，thisflatplacewe’reon，isworthstoppingtohavealookat。Haveyounoticed—”

“OhLor！”saidScrubb，“isthisatimeforstoppingtoadmiretheview？Forgoodness’sakelet’sgeton。”

“Oh，look，look，look，”criedJillandpointed。Everyoneturned，andeveryonesaw。Somewayofftothenorth，andagooddealhigherupthanthetablelandonwhichtheystood，alineoflightshadappeared。Thistime，evenmoreobviouslythanwhenthetravellershadseenthemthenightbefore，theywerewindows：smallerwindowsthatmadeonethinkdeliciouslyofbedrooms，andlargerwindowsthatmadeonethinkofgreathallswithfiresroaringonthehearthandhotsouporjuicysirloinssmokingonthetable。

“Harfang！”exclaimedScrubb。

“That’sallverywell，”saidPuddleglum。“ButwhatIwassayingwas—”

“Oh，shutup，”saidJillcrossly。“Wehaven’tamomenttolose。Don’tyourememberwhattheLadysaidabouttheirlockingupsoearly？Wemustgetthereintime，wemust，wemust。We’lldieifwe’reshutoutonanightlikethis。”

“Well，itisn’texactlyanight，notyet，”beganPuddleglum；butthetwochildrenbothsaid，“Comeon，”andbeganstumblingforwardontheslipperytablelandasquicklyastheirlegswouldcarrythem。TheMarsh-wigglefollowedthem：stilltalking，butnowthattheywereforcingtheirwayintothewindagain，theycouldnothaveheardhimeveniftheyhadwantedto。Andtheydidn’twant。Theywerethinkingofbathsandbedsandhotdrinks；andtheideaofcomingtoHarfangtoolateandbeingshutoutwasalmostunbearable。

Inspiteoftheirhaste，ittookthemalongtimetocrosstheflattopofthathill。Andevenwhentheyhadcrossedit，therewerestillseveralledgestoclimbdownonthefarside。ButatlasttheyreachedthebottomandcouldseewhatHarfangwaslike。

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