“Sire，” said Reepicheep， “this is a place with a curse on it. Let us get back on board at once. And if I might have the honour of naming this island， I should call it Deathwater.”
“That strikes me as a ver y good name， Reep，” said Caspian， “though now that I come to think of it， I don’t know why. But the weather seems to be settling and I dare say Drinian would like to be off. What a lot we shall have to tell him.”
But in fact they had not much to tell for the memory of the last hour had all become confused.
“Their Majesties all seemed a bit bewitched when they came aboard，” said Drinian to Rhince some hours later when the Dawn Treader was once more under sail and Deathwater Island already below the horizon. “Something happened to them in that place. The only thing I could get clear was that they think they‘ve found the body of one of these lords we’re looking for.”
“You don‘t say so， Captain，” answered Rhince. “Well， that’s three. Only four more. At this rate we might be home soon after the New Year. And a good thing too. My baccy‘s running a bit low. Good night， Sir.”
The Island Of The Voices