Suddenly the Witch stepped boldly out towards the Lion. It was coming on， always singing， with a slow， heavy pace. It was only twelve yards away. She raised her arm and flung the iron bar straight at its head.
Nobody， least of all Jadis， could have missed at that range. The bar struck the Lion fair between the eyes. It glanced off and fell with a thud in the grass. The Lion came on. Its walk was neither slower nor faster than before； you could not tell whether it even knew it had been hit. Though its soft pads made no noise， you could feel the earth shake beneath their weight.