小说园

chater five uddleg（第1页）

JILLwasasleep。Eversincetheowls’parliamentbeganshehadbeenyawningterriblyandnowshehaddroppedoff。Shewasnotatallpleasedatbeingwakedagain，andatfindingherselflyingonbareboardsinadustybelfrysortofplace，completelydark，andalmostcompletelyfullofowls。Shewasevenlesspleasedwhensheheardthattheyhadtosetoffforsomewhereelse—andnot，apparently，forbed—ontheOwl’sback。

“Oh，comeon，Pole，buckup，”saidScrubb’svoice。“Afterall，itisanadventure。”

“I’msickofadventures，”saidJillcrossly。

Shedid，however，consenttoclimbontoGlimfeather’sback，andwasthoroughlywakedup（forawhile）bytheunexpectedcoldnessoftheairwhenheflewoutwithherintothenight。Themoonhaddisappearedandtherewerenostars。Farbehindhershecouldseeasinglelightedwindowwellabovetheground；doubtless，inoneofthetowersofCairParavel。Itmadeherlongtobebackinthatdelightfulbedroom，snuginbed，watchingthefirelightonthewalls。Sheputherhandsunderhercloakandwrappedittightlyroundher。Itwasuncannytoheartwovoicesinthedarkairalittledistanceaway；Scrubbandhisowlweretalkingtooneanother。“Hedoesn’tsoundtired，”thoughtJill。ShedidnotrealizethathehadbeenongreatadventuresinthatworldbeforeandthattheNarnianairwasbringingbacktohimastrengthhehadwonwhenhesailedtheEasternSeaswithKingCaspian。

Jillhadtopinchherselftokeepawake，forsheknewthatifshedozedonGlimfeather’sbackshewouldprobablyfalloff。Whenatlastthetwoowlsendedtheirflight，sheclimbedstifflyoffGlimfeatherandfoundherselfonflatground。Achillywindwasblowingandtheyappearedtobeinaplacewithouttrees。“Tu-whoo，tu-whoo！”Glimfeatherwascalling。“Wakeup，Puddleglum。Wakeup。ItisontheLion’sbusiness。”

Foralongtimetherewasnoreply。Then，alongwayoff，adimlightappearedandbegantocomenearer。Withitcameavoice。

“Owlsahoy！”itsaid。“Whatisit？IstheKingdead？HasanenemylandedinNarnia？Isitaflood？Ordragons？”

Whenthelightreachedthem，itturnedouttobethatofalargelantern。Shecouldseeverylittleofthepersonwhoheldit。Heseemedtobealllegsandarms。Theowlsweretalkingtohim，explainingeverything，butshewastootiredtolisten。Shetriedtowakeherselfupabitwhensherealizedthattheyweresayinggoodbyetoher。Butshecouldneverafterwardsremembermuchexceptthat，soonerorlater，sheandScrubbwerestoopingtoenteralowdoorwayandthen（oh，thankheavens）werelyingdownonsomethingsoftandwarm，andavoicewassaying：

“Thereyouare。Bestwecando。You’llliecoldandhard。Damptoo，Ishouldn’twonder。Won’tsleepawink，mostlikely；evenifthereisn’tathunderstormorafloodorthewigwamdoesn’tfalldownontopofusall，asI’veknownthemtodo。Mustmakethebestofit—”Butshewasfastasleepbeforethevoicehadended。

Whenthechildrenwokelatenextmorningtheyfoundthattheywerelying，verydryandwarm，onbedsofstrawinadarkplace。Atriangularopeningletinthedaylight。

“Whereoneartharewe？”askedJill。

“InthewigwamofaMarsh-wiggle，”saidEustace。

“Awhat？”

“AMarsh-wiggle。Don’taskmewhatitis。Icouldn’tseeitlastnight。I’mgettingup。Let’sgoandlookforit。”

“Howbeastlyonefeelsaftersleepinginone’sclothes，”saidJill，sittingup。

“Iwasjustthinkinghowniceitwasnottohavetodress，”saidEustace。

“Orwasheither，Isuppose，”saidJillscornfully。ButScrubbhadalreadygotup，yawned，shakenhimself，andcrawledoutofthewigwam。Jilldidthesame。

WhattheyfoundoutsidewasquiteunlikethebitofNarniatheyhadseenonthedaybefore。Theywereonagreatflatplainwhichwascutintocountlesslittleislandsbycountlesschannelsofwater。Theislandswerecoveredwithcoarsegrassandborderedwithreedsandrushes。Sometimestherewerebedsofrushesaboutanacreinextent。Cloudsofbirdswereconstantlyalightinginthemandrisingfromthemagain—duck，snipe，bitterns，herons。Manywigwamslikethatinwhichtheyhadpassedthenightcouldbeseendottedabout，butallatagooddistancefromoneanother；forMarsh-wigglesarepeoplewholikeprivacy。Exceptforthefringeoftheforestseveralmilestothesouthandwestofthem，therewasnotatreeinsight。Eastwardtheflatmarshstretchedtolowsand-hillsonthehorizon，andyoucouldtellbythesalttanginthewindwhichblewfromthatdirectionthatthesealayoverthere。TotheNorththerewerelowpale-colouredhills，inplacesbastionedwithrock。Therestwasallflatmarsh。Itwouldhavebeenadepressingplaceonawetevening。Seenunderamorningsun，withafreshwindblowing，andtheairfilledwiththecryingofbirds，therewassomethingfineandfreshandcleanaboutitsloneliness。Thechildrenfelttheirspiritsrise。

“Wherehasthethingummygotto，Iwonder？”saidJill。

“TheMarsh-wiggle，”saidScrubb，asifhewereratherproudofknowingtheword。“Iexpect—hullo，thatmustbehim。”Andthentheybothsawhim，sittingwithhisbacktothem，fishing，aboutfiftyyardsaway。Hehadbeenhardtoseeatfirstbecausehewasnearlythesamecolourasthemarshandbecausehesatsostill。

“Isupposewe’dbettergoandspeaktohim，”saidJill。Scrubbnodded。Theybothfeltalittlenervous。

Astheydrewnearer，thefigureturneditsheadandshowedthemalongthinfacewithrathersunkencheeks，atightlyshutmouth，asharpnose，andnobeard。Hewaswearingahigh，pointedhatlikeasteeple，withanenormouslywideflatbrim。Thehair，ifitcouldbecalledhair，whichhungoverhislargeearswasgreeny-grey，andeachlockwasflatratherthanround，sothattheywereliketinyreeds。Hisexpressionwassolemn，hiscomplexionmuddy，andyoucouldseeatoncethathetookaseriousviewoflife。

“Goodmorning，Guests，”hesaid。“ThoughwhenIsaygoodIdon’tmeanitwon’tprobablyturntorainoritmighthesnow，orfog，orthunder。Youdidn’tgetanysleep，Idaresay。

“Yeswedid，though，”saidJill。“Wehadalovelynight。”

“Ah，”saidtheMarsh-wiggle，shakinghishead。“Iseeyou’remakingthebestofabadjob。That’sright。You’vebeenwellbroughtup，youhave。You’velearnedtoputagoodfaceonthings。”

“Please，wedon’tknowyourname，”saidScrubb。

“Puddleglum’smyname。Butitdoesn’tmatterifyouforgetit。Icanalwaystellyouagain。”

Thechildrensatdownoneachsideofhim。Theynowsawthathehadverylonglegsandarms，sothatalthoughhisbodywasnotmuchbiggerthanadwarf’s，hewouldbetallerthanmostmenwhenhestoodup。Thefingersofhishandswerewebbedlikeafrog’s，andsowerehisbarefeetwhichdangledinthemuddywater。Hewasdressedinearthcolouredclothesthathunglooseabouthim。

“I’mtryingtocatchafeweelstomakeaneelstewforourdinner，”saidPuddleglum。“ThoughIshouldn’twonderifIdidn’tgetany。Andyouwon’tlikethemmuchifIdo。”

“Whynot？”askedScrubb。

“Why，it’snotinreasonthatyoushouldlikeoursortofvictuals，thoughI’venodoubtyou’llputaboldfaceonit。Allthesame，whileIamacatchingofthem，ifyoutwocouldtrytolightthefire—noharmtrying—！Thewood’sbehindthewigwam。Itmaybewet。Youcouldlightitinsidethewigwam，andthenwe’dgetallthesmokeinoureyes。Oryoucouldlightitoutside，andthentherainwouldcomeandputitout。Here’smytinder-box。Youwouldn’tknowhowtouseit，Iexpect。”

ButScrubbhadlearnedthatsortofthingonhislastadventure。Thechildrenranbacktogethertothewigwam，foundthewood（whichwasperfectlydry）andsucceededinlightingafirewithratherlessthantheusualdifficulty。ThenScrubbsatandtookcareofitwhileJillwentandhadsomesortofwash—notaveryniceone—inthenearestchannel。Afterthatshesawtothefireandhehadawash。Bothfeltagooddealfresher，butveryhungry。

PresentlytheMarsh-wigglejoinedthem。Inspiteofhisexpectationofcatchingnoeels，hehadadozenorso，whichhehadalreadyskinnedandcleaned。Heputabigpoton，mendedthefire，andlithispipe。Marsh-wigglessmokeaverystrange，heavysortoftobacco（somepeoplesaytheymixitwithmud）andthechildrennoticedthesmokefromPuddleglum’spipehardlyroseintheairatall。Ittrickledoutofthebowlanddownwardsanddriftedalongthegroundlikeamist。ItwasveryblackandsetScrubbcoughing。

“Now，”saidPuddleglum。“Thoseeelswilltakeamortallongtimetocook，andeitherofyoumightfaintwithhungerbeforethey’redone。Iknewalittlegirl-butI’dbetternottellyouthatstory。Itmightloweryourspirits，andthat’sathingIneverdo。So，tokeepyourmindsoffyourhunger，wemayaswelltalkaboutourplans。”

“Yes，dolet’s，”saidJill。“CanyouhelpustofindPrinceRilian？”

TheMarsh-wigglesuckedinhischeekstilltheywerehollowerthanyouwouldhavethoughtpossible。“Well，Idon’tknowthatyou’dcallithelp，”hesaid。“Idon’tknowthatanyonecanexactlyhelp。Itstandstoreasonwe’renotlikelytogetveryfaronajourneytotheNorth，notatthistimeoftheyear，withthewintercomingonsoonandall。Andanearlywintertoo，bythelookofthings。Butyoumustn’tletthatmakeyoudown-hearted。Verylikely，whatwithenemies，andmountains，andriverstocross，andlosingourway，andnexttonothingtoeat，andsorefeet，we’llhardlynoticetheweather。Andifwedon’tgetfarenoughtodoanygood，wemaygetfarenoughnottogetbackinahurry。”

Bothchildrennoticedthathesaid“we”，not“you”，andbothexclaimedatthesamemoment。“Areyoucomingwithus？”