“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 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 downin 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 tiptoes and holding her handkerchief 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 handkerchee！”
“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 itto 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 traditions， 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 befinally defeated before bedtime 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 yourselves.”
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 everywhere 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， onedryad， 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 weregoing 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 tothe 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 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 battlefield， soapparently 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 fightin-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.