What Happened
About the Statues
W
HAT an extraordinary place!” cried Lucy. “All those
stone animals — and people too! It’s — it’s like a
museum.”
“Hush,” said Susan, “Aslan’s doing something.”
He was indeed. He had bounded up to the stone lion and breathed
on him. Then without waiting a moment he whisked round — almost
as if he had been a cat chasing its tail -and breathed also on the stone
dwarf, which (as you remember) was standing a few feet from the lion
with his back to it. Then he pounced on a tall stone dryad which stood
beyond the dwarf, turned rapidly aside to deal with a stone rabbit on
his right, and rushed on to two centaurs. But at that moment Lucy
said,
“Oh, Susan! Look! Look at the lion.”
I expect you’ve seen someone put a lighted match to a bit of news-
paper which is propped up in a grate against an unlit fire. And for a
second nothing seems to have happened; and then you notice a tiny
streak of flame creeping along the edge of the newspaper. It was like
that now. For a second after Aslan had breathed upon him the stone
lion looked just the same. Then a tiny streak of gold began to run
along his white marble back then it spread — then the colour seemed
to lick all over him as the flame licks all over a bit of paper — then,
while his hindquarters were still obviously stone, the lion shook his
Clive Staples Lewis90
mane and all the heavy, stone folds rippled into living hair. Then he
opened a great red mouth, warm and living, and gave a prodigious
yawn. And now his hind legs had come to life. He lifted one of them
and scratched himself. Then, having caught sight of Aslan, he went
bounding after him and frisking round him whimpering with delight
and jumping up to lick his face.
Of course the children’s eyes turned to follow the lion; but the sight
they saw was so wonderful that they soon forgot about him.
Everywhere the statues were coming to life. The courtyard looked no
longer like a museum; it looked more like a zoo. Creatures were
running after Aslan and dancing round him till he was almost hidden
in the crowd. Instead of all that deadly white the courtyard was now a
blaze of colours; glossy chestnut sides of centaurs, indigo horns of
unicorns, dazzling plumage of birds, reddy-brown of foxes, dogs and
satyrs, yellow stockings and crimson hoods of dwarfs; and the birch-
girls in silver, and the beech-girls in fresh, transparent green, and the
larch-girls in green so bright that it was almost yellow. And instead of
the deadly silence the whole place rang with the sound of happy roar-
ings, brayings, yelpings, barkings, squealings, cooings, neighings,
stampings, shouts, hurrahs, songs and laughter.
“Oh!” said Susan in a different tone. “Look! I wonder — I mean, is it
safe?”
Lucy looked and saw that Aslan had just breathed on the feet of the
stone giant.
“It’s all right!” shouted Aslan joyously. “Once the feet are put right,
all the rest of him will follow.”
“That wasn’t exactly what I meant,” whispered Susan to Lucy. But it
was too late to do anything about it now even if Aslan would have
listened to her. The change was already creeping up the Giant’s legs.
Now he was moving his feet. A moment later he lifted his club off his
shoulder, rubbed his eyes and said,
“Bless me! I must have been asleep. Now! Where’s that dratted little
Witch that was running about on the ground. Somewhere just by my
feet it was.” But when everyone had shouted up to him to explain
what had really happened, and when the Giant had put his hand to
his ear and got them to repeat it all again so that at last he under-
stood, then he bowed down till his head was no further off than the
top of a haystack and touched his cap repeatedly to Aslan, beaming
91The Lion, the Witch and the wardrobe
all over his honest ugly face. (Giants of any sort are now so rare in
England and so few giants are good-tempered that ten to one you
have never seen a giant when his face is beaming. It’s a sight well
worth looking at.)
“Now for the inside of this house!” said Aslan. “Look alive, everyone.
Up stairs and down stairs and in my lady’s chamber! Leave no corner
unsearched. You never know where some poor prisoner may be
concealed.”
And into the interior they all rushed and for several minutes the
whole of that dark, horrible, fusty old castle echoed with the opening
of windows and with everyone’s voices crying out at once, “Don’t
forget the dungeons — Give us a hand with this door! Here’s another
little winding stair — Oh! I say. Here’s a poor kangaroo. Call Aslan —
Phew! How it smells in here — Look out for trap-doors — Up here!
There are a whole lot more on the landing!” But the best of all was
when Lucy came rushing upstairs shouting out,
“Aslan! Aslan! I’ve found Mr Tumnus. Oh, do come quick.”
A moment later Lucy and the little Faun were holding each other by
both hands and dancing round and round for joy. The little chap was
none the worse for having been a statue and was of course very inter-
ested in all she had to tell him.
But at last the ransacking of the Witch’s fortress was ended. The
whole castle stood empty with every door and window open and the
light and the sweet spring air flooding into all the dark and evil places
which needed them so badly. The whole crowd of liberated statues
surged back into the courtyard. And it was then that someone
(Tumnus, I think) first said,
“But how are we going to get out?” for Aslan had got in by a jump
and the gates were still locked.
“That’ll be all right,” said Aslan; and then, rising on his hind-legs, he
bawled up at the Giant. “Hi! You up there,” he roared. “What’s your
name?”
“Giant Rumblebuffin, if it please your honour,” said the Giant, once
more touching his cap.
“Well then, Giant Rumblebuffin,” said Aslan, “just let us out of this,
will you?”
“Certainly, your honour. It will be a pleasure,” said Giant Rumblebuffin.
“Stand well away from the gates, all you little ‘uns.” Then he strode to
Clive Staples Lewis92
the gate himself and bang — bang — bang — went his huge club. The
gates creaked at the first blow, cracked at the second, and shivered at
the third. Then he tackled the towers on each side of them and after a
few minutes of crashing and thudding both the towers and a good bit
of the wall on each side went thundering down in a mass of hopeless
rubble; and when the dust cleared it was odd, standing in that dry,
grim, stony yard, to see through the gap all the grass and waving trees
and sparkling streams of the forest, and the blue hills beyond that and
beyond them the sky.
“Blowed if I ain’t all in a muck sweat,” said the Giant, puffing like the
largest railway engine. “Comes of being out of condition. I suppose
neither of you young ladies has such a thing as a pocket-handkerchee
about you?”
“Yes, I have,” said Lucy, standing on tip-toes and holding her hand-
kerchief up as far as she could reach.
“Thank you, Missie,” said Giant Rumblebuffin, stooping down. Next
moment Lucy got rather a fright for she found herself caught up in
mid-air between the Giant’s finger and thumb. But just as she was
getting near his face he suddenly started and then put her gently back
on the ground muttering, “Bless me! I’ve picked up the little girl
instead. I beg your pardon, Missie, I thought you was the hand-
kerchee!”
“No, no,” said Lucy laughing, “here it is!” This time he managed to
get it but it was only about the same size to him that a saccharine
tablet would be to you, so that when she saw him solemnly rubbing it
to and fro across his great red face, she said, “I’m afraid it’s not much
use to you, Mr Rumblebuffin.”
“Not at all. Not at all,” said the giant politely. “Never met a nicer
handkerchee. So fine, so handy. So — I don’t know how to describe
it.”
“What a nice giant he is!” said Lucy to Mr Tumnus.
“Oh yes,” replied the Faun. “All the Buffins always were. One of the
most respected of all the giant families in Narnia. Not very clever,
perhaps (I never knew a giant that was), but an old family. With tradi-
tions, you know. If he’d been the other sort she’d never have turned
him into stone.”
At this point Aslan clapped his paws together and called for silence.
“Our day’s work is not yet over,” he said, “and if the Witch is to be
93The Lion, the Witch and the wardrobe
finally defeated before bed-time we must find the battle at once.”
“And join in, I hope, sir!” added the largest of the Centaurs.
“Of course,” said Aslan. “And now! Those who can’t keep up — that
is, children, dwarfs, and small animals — must ride on the backs of
those who can — that is, lions, centaurs, unicorns, horses, giants and
eagles. Those who are good with their noses must come in front with
us lions to smell out where the battle is. Look lively and sort your-
selves.”
And with a great deal of bustle and cheering they did. The most
pleased of the lot was the other lion who kept running about every-
where pretending to be very busy but really in order to say to everyone
he met. “Did you hear what he said?
Us Lions. That means him and
me.
Us Lions. That’s what I like about Aslan. No side, no stand-off-
ishness.
Us Lions. That meant him and me.” At least he went on
saying this till Aslan had loaded him up with three dwarfs, one dryad,
two rabbits, and a hedgehog. That steadied him a bit.
When all were ready (it was a big sheep-dog who actually helped
Aslan most in getting them sorted into their proper order) they set out
through the gap in the castle wall. At first the lions and dogs went
nosing about in all directions. But then suddenly one great hound
picked up the scent and gave a bay. There was no time lost after that.
Soon all the dogs and lions and wolves and other hunting animals
were going at full speed with their noses to the ground, and all the
others, streaked out for about half a mile behind them, were following
as fast as they could. The noise was like an English fox-hunt only
better because every now and then with the music of the hounds was
mixed the roar of the other lion and sometimes the far deeper and
more awful roar of Aslan himself. Faster and faster they went as the
scent became easier and easier to follow. And then, just as they came
to the last curve in a narrow, winding valley, Lucy heard above all
these noises another noise — a different one, which gave her a queer
feeling inside. It was a noise of shouts and shrieks and of the clashing
of metal against metal.
Then they came out of the narrow valley and at once she saw the
reason. There stood Peter and Edmund and all the rest of Aslan’s
army fighting desperately against the crowd of horrible creatures
whom she had seen last night; only now, in the daylight, they looked
even stranger and more evil and more deformed. There also seemed
Clive Staples Lewis94
to be far more of them. Peter’s army — which had their backs to her
looked terribly few. And there were statues dotted all over the battle-
field, so apparently the Witch had been using her wand. But she did
not seem to be using it now. She was fighting with her stone knife. It
was Peter she was fighting — both of them going at it so hard that
Lucy could hardly make out what was happening; she only saw the
stone knife and Peter’s sword flashing so quickly that they looked
like three knives and three swords. That pair were in the centre. On
each side the line stretched out. Horrible things were happening
wherever she looked.
“Off my back, children,” shouted Aslan. And they both tumbled off.
Then with a roar that shook all Narnia from the western lamp-post to
the shores of the eastern sea the great beast flung himself upon the
White Witch. Lucy saw her face lifted towards him for one second with
an expression of terror and amazement. Then Lion and Witch had
rolled over together but with the Witch underneath; and at the same
moment all war-like creatures whom Aslan had led from the Witch’s
house rushed madly on the enemy lines, dwarfs with their battle-axes,
dogs with teeth, the Giant with his club (and his feet also crushed
dozens of the foe), unicorns with their horns, centaurs with swords and
hoofs. And Peter’s tired army cheered, and the newcomers roared,
and the enemy squealed and gibbered till the wood re-echoed with the
din of that onset.
