The Healing Of Harms
医治创伤
When Jill woke next morning and found herself in a cave， she thought for one horrid moment that she was back in the Underworld. But when she noticed that she was lying on a bed of heather with a furry mantle over her， and saw a cheery fire crackling （as if newly lit） on a stone hearth and， further off， morning sunlight coming in through the cave’s mouth， she remembered all the happy truth. They had had a delightful supper， all crowded into that cave， in spite of being so sleepy before it was properly over. She had a vague impression of Dwarfs crowding round the fire with frying-pans rather bigger than themselves， and the hissing， and delicious smell of sausages， and more， and more， and more sausages. And not wretched sausages half full of bread and soya bean either， but real meaty， spicy ones， fat and piping hot and burst and just the tiniest bit burnt. And great mugs of frothy chocolate， and roast potatoes and roast chestnuts， and baked apples with raisins stuck in where the cores had been， and then ices just to freshen you up after all the hot things.
Jill sat up and looked around. Puddleglum and Eustace were lying not far away， both fast asleep.
“Hi， you two！” shouted Jill in a loud voice. “Aren‘t you ever going to get up？”
“Shoo， shoo！” said a sleepy voice somewhere above her. “Time to be settling down. Have a good snooze， do， do. Don’t make a to-do. Tu- whoo！”
“Why， I do believe，” said Jill， glancing up at a white bundle of fluffy feathers which was perched on top of a grandfather clock in one corner of the cave， “I do believe it‘s Glimfeather！”
“True， true，” whirred the Owl， lifting its head out from under its wing and opening one eye. “I came up with a message for the Prince at about two. The squirrels brought us the good news. Message for the Prince. He’s gone. You‘re to follow too. Good-day-” and the head disappeared again.
As there seemed no further hope of getting any information from the Owl， Jill got up and began looking round for any chance of a wash and some breakfast. But almost at once a little Faun came trotting into the cave with a sharp click-clack of his goaty hoofs on the stone floor.
“Ah！ You’ve woken up at last， Daughter of Eve，” he said. “Perhapsyou‘d better wake the Son of Adam. You’ve got to be off in a few minutes and two Centaurs have very kindly offered to let you ride on their backs down to Cair Paravel.” He added in a lower voice. “Of course， you realize it is a most special and unheard-of honour to be allowed to ride a Centaur. I don‘t know that I ever heard of anyone doing it before. It wouldn’t do to keep them waiting.”
“Where‘s the Prince？” was the first question of Eustace and Puddleglum as soon as they had been wakened.
“He’s gone down to meet the King， his father， at Cair Paravel，” answered the Faun， whose name was Orruns. “His Majesty‘s ship is expected in harbour any moment. It seems that the King met Aslan- I don’t know whether it was in a vision or face to face-before he had sailed far， and Aslan turned him back and told him he would find his long-lost son awaiting him when he reached Narnia.”
Eustace was now up and he and Jill set about helping Orruns to getthe breakfast. Puddleglum was told to stay in bed. A Centaur called Cloudbirth， a famous healer， or （as Orruns called it） a ‘leech’， was coming to see to his burnt foot.
“Ah！” said Puddleglum in a tone almost of contentment， “he‘ll want to have the leg off at the knee， I shouldn’t wonder. You see if he doesn‘t.” But he was quite glad to stay in bed.
Breakfast was scrambled eggs and toast and Eustace tackled it just as if he had not had a very large supper in the middle of the night.
“I say， Son of Adam，” said the Faun， looking with a certain awe at Eustace’s mouthfuls. “There‘s no need to hurry quite so dreadfully as that. I don’t think the Centaurs have quite finished their breakfasts yet.” “Then they must have got up very late，” said Eustace. “I bet it‘safter ten o’clock.”
“Oh no，” said Orruns. “They got up before it was light.”
“Then they must have waited the dickens of a time for breakfast，” said Eustace.
“No， they didn‘t，” said Orruns. “They began eating the minute they woke.”
“Golly！” said Eustace. “Do they eat a very big breakfast？”
“Why， Son of Adam， don’t you understand？ A Centaur has a man- stomach and a horse-stomach. And of course both want breakfast. So first of all he has porridge and pavenders and kidneys and bacon and omelette and cold ham and toast and marmalade and coffee and beer. And after that he attends to the horse part of himself by grazing for an hour or so and finishing up with a hot mash， some oats， and a bag of sugar. That‘s why it’s such a serious thing to ask a Centaur to stay for the weekend. A very serious thing indeed.”
At that moment there was a sound of horse-hooves tapping on rock from the mouth of the cave， and the children looked up. The two Centaurs， one with a black and one with a golden beard flowing over their magnificent bare chests， stood waiting for them， bending their heads a little so as to look into the cave. Then the children became very polite and finished their breakfast very quickly. No one thinks a Centaur funny when he sees it. They are solemn， majestic people， fullof ancient wisdom which they learn from the stars， not easily made either merry or angry； but their anger is terrible as a tidal wave when it comes.
“Goodbye， dear Puddleglum，” said Jill， going over to the Marsh- wiggle‘s bed. “I’m sorry we called you a wet blanket.”
“So‘m I，” said Eustace. “You’ve been the best friend in the world.” “And I do hope we‘ll meet again，” added Jill.
“Not much chance of that， I should say，” replied Puddleglum. “1 don’t reckon I‘m very likely to see my old wigwam again either. And that Prince-he’s a nice chap-but do you think he‘s very strong？ Constitution ruined with living underground， I shouldn’t wonder. Looks the sort that might go off any day.”
“Puddleglum！” said Jill. “You‘re a regular old humbug. You sound as doleful as a funeral and I believe you’re perfectly happy. And you talk as if you were afraid of everything， when you‘re really as brave as-as a lion.”