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双语·魔法师的外甥 第十二章 草莓历险记

所属教程:译林版·魔法师的外甥

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2022年05月01日

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Digory kept his mouth very tight shut. He had been growing more and more uncomfortable. He hoped that, whatever happened, he wouldn’t blub or do anything ridiculous.

“Son of Adam,” said Aslan. “Are you ready to undo the wrong that you have done to my sweet country of Narnia on the very day of its birth?”

“Well, I don’t see what I can do,” said Digory. “You see, the Queen ran away and—”

“I asked, are you ready?” said the Lion.

“Yes,” said Digory. He had had for a second some wild idea of saying “I’ll try to help you if you’ll promise to help my Mother,” but he realized in time that the Lion was not at all the sort of person one could try to make bargains with. But when he had said “Yes,” he thought of his Mother, and he thought of the great hopes he had had, and how they were all dying away, and a lump came in his throat and tears in his eyes, and he blurted out:

“But please, please—won’t you—can’t you give me something that will cure Mother?” Up till then he had been looking at the Lion’s great feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself.

“My son, my son,” said Aslan. “I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another. But I have to think of hundreds of years in the life of Narnia. The Witch whom you have brought into this world will come back to Narnia again. But it need not be yet. It is my wish to plant in Narnia a tree that she will not dare to approach, and that tree will protect Narnia from her for many years. So this land shall have a long, bright morning before any clouds come over the sun. You must get me the seed from which that tree is to grow.”

“Yes, sir,” said Digory. He didn’t know how it was to be done but he felt quite sure now that he would be able to do it. The Lion drew a deep breath, stooped its head even lower and gave him a Lion’s kiss. And at once Digory felt that new strength and courage had gone into him.

“Dear son,” said Aslan, “I will tell you what you must do. Turn and look to the West and tell me what do you see?”

“I see terribly big mountains, Aslan,” said Digory, “I see this river coming down cliffs in a waterfall. And beyond the cliff there are high green hills with forests. And beyond those there are higher ranges that look almost black. And then, far away, there are big snowy mountains all heaped up together—like pictures of the Alps. And behind those there’s nothing but the sky.”

“You see well,” said the Lion. “Now the land of Narnia ends where the waterfall comes down, and once you have reached the top of the cliffs you will be out of Narnia and into the Western Wild. You must journey through those mountains till you find a green valley with a blue lake in it, walled round by mountains of ice. At the end of the lake there is a steep, green hill. On the top of that hill there is a garden. In the centre of that garden is a tree. Pluck an apple from that tree and bring it back to me.”

“Yes, sir,” said Digory again. He hadn’t the least idea of how he was to climb the cliff and find his way among all the mountains, but he didn’t like to say that for fear it would sound like making excuses. But he did say, “I hope, Aslan, you’re not in a hurry. I shan’t be able to get there and back very quickly.”

“Little son of Adam, you shall have help,” said Aslan. He then turned to the Horse who had been standing quietly beside them all this time, swishing his tail to keep the flies off, and listening with his head on one side as if the conversation were a little difficult to understand.

“My dear,” said Aslan to the Horse, “would you like to be a winged horse?”

You should have seen how the Horse shook its mane and how its nostrils widened, and the little tap it gave the ground with one back hoof. Clearly it would very much like to be a winged horse. But it only said:

“If you wish, Aslan—if you really mean—I don’t know why it should be me—I’m not a very clever horse.”

“Be winged. Be the father of all flying horses,” roared Aslan in a voice that shook the ground. “Your name is Fledge.”

The horse shied, just as it might have shied in the old, miserable days when it pulled a hansom. Then it roared. It strained its neck back as if there were a fly biting its shoulders and it wanted to scratch them. And then, just as the beasts had burst out of the earth, there burst out from the shoulders of Fledge wings that spread and grew, larger than eagles’, larger than swans’, larger than angels’ wings in church windows. The feathers shone chestnut colour and copper colour. He gave a great sweep with them and leaped into the air. Twenty feet above Aslan and Digory he snorted, neighed, and curvetted. Then, after circling once round them, he dropped to the earth, all four hoofs together, looking awkward and surprised, but extremely pleased.

“Is it good, Fledge?” said Aslan.

“It is very good, Aslan,” said Fledge.

“Will you carry this little son of Adam on your back to the mountain-valley I spoke of?”

“What? Now? At once?” said Strawberry—or Fledge, as we must now call him—“Hurrah! Come on little one, I’ve had things like you on my back before. Long, long ago. When there were green fields; and sugar.”

“What are the two daughters of Eve whispering about?” said Aslan, turning very suddenly on Polly and the Cabby’s wife, who had in fact been making friends.

“If you please, sir,” said Queen Helen (for that is what Nellie the cabman’s wife now was), “I think the little girl would love to go too, if it weren’t no trouble.”

“What does Fledge say about that?” asked the Lion.

“Oh, I don’t mind two, not when they’re little ones,” said Fledge. “But I hope the Elephant doesn’t want to come as well.”

The Elephant had no such wish, and the new King of Narnia helped both the children up: that is, he gave Digory a rough heave and set Polly as gently and daintily on the horse’s back as if she were made of china and might break. “There they are, Strawberry—Fledge, I should say. This is a rum go.”

“Do not fly too high,” said Aslan. “Do not try to go over the tops of the great ice-mountains. Look out for the valleys, the green places, and fly through them. There will always be a way through. And now, begone with my blessing.”

“Oh Fledge!” said Digory, leaning forward to pat the Horse’s glossy neck. “This is fun. Hold on to me tight, Polly.”

Next moment the country dropped away beneath them, and whirled round as Fledge, like a huge pigeon, circled once or twice before setting off on his long westward flight. Looking down, Polly could hardly see the King and the Queen, and even Aslan himself was only a bright yellow spot on the green grass. Soon the wind was in their faces and Fledge’s wings settled down to a steady beat.

All Narnia, many-coloured with lawns and rocks and heather and different sorts of trees, lay spread out below them, the river winding through it like a ribbon of quicksilver. They could already see over the tops of the low hills which lay northward on their right; beyond those hills a great moorland sloped gently up and up to the horizon. On their left the mountains were much higher, but every now and then there was a gap when you could see, between steep pine woods, a glimpse of the southern lands that lay beyond them, looking blue and far away.

“That’ll be where Archenland is,” said Polly.

“Yes, but look ahead!” said Digory.

For now a great barrier of cliffs rose before them and they were almost dazzled by the sunlight dancing on the great waterfall by which the river roars and sparkles down into Narnia itself from the high western lands in which it rises. They were flying so high already that the thunder of those falls could only just be heard as a small, thin sound, but they were not yet high enough to fly over the top of the cliffs.

“We’ll have to do a bit of zig-zagging here,” said Fledge. “Hold on tight.”

He began flying to and fro, getting higher at each turn. The air grew colder, and they heard the call of eagles far below them.

“I say, look back! Look behind,” said Polly.

There they could see the whole valley of Narnia stretched out to where, just before the eastern horizon, there was a gleam of the sea. And now they were so high that they could see tiny-looking jagged mountains appearing beyond the northwest moors, and plains of what looked like sand far in the south.

“I wish we had someone to tell us what all those places are,” said Digory.

“I don’t suppose they’re anywhere yet,” said Polly. “I mean, there’s no one there, and nothing happening. The world only began today.”

“No, but people will get there,” said Digory. “And then they’ll have histories, you know.”

“Well, it’s a jolly good thing they haven’t now,” said Polly. “Because nobody can be made to learn it. Battles and dates and all that rot.”

Now they were over the top of the cliffs and in a few minutes the valley land of Narnia had sunk out of sight behind them. They were flying over a wild country of steep hills and dark forests, still following the course of the river. The really big mountains loomed ahead. But the sun was now in the travellers’ eyes and they couldn’t see things very clearly in that direction. For the sun sank lower and lower till the western sky was all like one great furnace full of melted gold; and it set at last behind a jagged peak which stood up against the brightness as sharp and flat as if it were cut out of cardboard.

“It’s none too warm up here,” said Polly.

“And my wings are beginning to ache,” said Fledge. “There’s no sign of the valley with a Lake in it, like what Aslan said. What about coming down and looking out for a decent spot to spend the night in? We shan’t reach that place tonight.”

“Yes, and surely it’s about time for supper?” said Digory.

So Fledge came lower and lower. As they came down nearer to the earth and among the hills, the air grew warmer and after travelling so many hours with nothing to listen to but the beat of Fledge’s wings, it was nice to hear the homely and earthy noises again—the chatter of the river on its stony bed and the creaking of trees in the light wind. A warm, good smell of sun-baked earth and grass and flowers came up to them. At last Fledge alighted. Digory rolled off and helped Polly to dismount. Both were glad to stretch their stiff legs.

The valley in which they had come down was in the heart of the mountains; snowy heights, one of them looking rose-red in the reflections of the sunset, towered above them.

“I am hungry,” said Digory.

“Well, tuck in,” said Fledge, taking a big mouthful of grass. Then he raised his head, still chewing and with bits of grass sticking out on each side of his mouth like whiskers, and said, “Come on, you two. Don’t be shy. There’s plenty for us all.”

“But we can’t eat grass,” said Digory.

“H’m, h’m,” said Fledge, speaking with his mouth full. “Well—h’m—don’t know quite what you’ll do then. Very good grass too.”

Polly and Digory stared at one another in dismay.

“Well, I do think someone might have arranged about our meals,” said Digory.

“I’m sure Aslan would have, if you’d asked him,” said Fledge.

“Wouldn’t he know without being asked?” said Polly.

“I’ve no doubt he would,” said the Horse (still with his mouth full). “But I’ve a sort of idea he likes to be asked.”

“But what on earth are we to do?” asked Digory.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Fledge. “Unless you try the grass. You might like it better than you think.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” said Polly, stamping her foot. “Of course humans can’t eat grass, any more than you could eat a mutton chop.”

“For goodness’ sake don’t talk about chops and things,” said Digory. “It only makes it worse.”

Digory said that Polly had better take herself home by ring and get something to eat there; he couldn’t himself because he had promised to go straight on his message for Aslan, and, if once he showed up again at home, anything might happen to prevent his getting back. But Polly said she wouldn’t leave him, and Digory said it was jolly decent of her.

“I say,” said Polly, “I’ve still got the remains of that bag of toffee in my jacket. It’ll be better than nothing.”

“A lot better,” said Digory, “but be careful to get your hand into your pocket without touching your ring.”

This was a difficult and delicate job but they managed it in the end. The little paper bag was very squashy and sticky when they finally got it out, so that it was more a question of tearing the bag off the toffees than of getting the toffees out of the bag. Some grown-ups (you know how fussy they can be about that sort of thing) would rather have gone without supper altogether than eaten those toffees. There were nine of them all told. It was Digory who had the bright idea of eating four each and planting the ninth; for, as he said, “if the bar off the lamp-post turned into a little light-tree, why shouldn’t this turn into a toffee-tree?” So they dibbled a small hole in the turf and buried the piece of toffee. Then they ate the other pieces, making them last as long as they could. It was a poor meal, even with all the paper they couldn’t help eating as well.

When Fledge had quite finished his own excellent supper he lay down. The children came and sat one on each side of him leaning against his warm body, and when he had spread a wing over each they were really quite snug. As the bright young stars of that new world came out they talked over everything: how Digory had hoped to get something for his Mother and how, instead of that, he had been sent on this message. And they repeated to one another all the signs by which they would know the places they were looking for—the blue lake and the hill with a garden on top of it. The talk was just beginning to slow down as they got sleepy, when suddenly Polly sat up wide awake and said “Hush!”

Everyone listened as hard as they could.

“Perhaps it was only the wind in the trees,” said Digory presently.

“I’m not so sure,” said Fledge. “Anyway—wait! There it goes again. By Aslan, it is something.”

The horse scrambled to its feet with a great noise and a great upheaval; the children were already on theirs. Fledge trotted to and fro, sniffing and whinnying. The children tiptoed this way and that, looking behind every bush and tree. They kept on thinking they saw things, and there was one time when Polly was perfectly certain she had seen a tall, dark figure gliding quickly away in a westerly direction. But they caught nothing and in the end Fledge lay down again and the children re-snuggled (if that is the right word) under his wings. They went to sleep at once. Fledge stayed awake much longer moving his ears to and fro in the darkness and sometimes giving a little shiver with his skin as if a fly had lighted on him: but in the end he too slept.

迪格雷紧紧咬着嘴唇,越来越感到不安了。他希望,不论发生什么,都不要哭,也不要干出傻事儿来。

“亚当之子,”阿斯兰说,“在我纳尼亚王国这片乐土诞生之日,你犯下了错,现在准备弥补吗?”

“可是,我不知道该怎么做,”迪格雷说。“您看,那女巫已经逃跑了,而且——”

“我问的是,你准备去弥补吗?”狮子说。

“是的,”迪格雷回答。有那么一瞬,他脑中闪现出一个疯狂的念头,想说“您要是答应救我妈妈的命,我就尽力帮您”,不过他马上意识到,是不可以跟狮子讨价还价的。可是,刚才回答“是”的时候,他想起了妈妈,想起了曾有过的那么宏伟的愿望,可如今都灰飞烟灭了。想到这里,他的喉咙哽咽了,双眼噙满了泪水,禁不住脱口而出:

“行行好吧,行行好——请您——您能不能给我点儿什么,让我治好妈妈的病?”他之前一直注视着狮子粗壮的脚掌和巨大的爪子;这会儿,在绝望之下,他抬起头凝视着它的脸。他看到了这辈子最令他惊奇的事儿。狮子低下它那张黄褐色的脸,凑到他面前,(最令人奇怪的是)它的眼里闪烁着大颗大颗晶莹的泪珠,与迪格雷的泪珠相比是那么大,那么亮。他顿时觉得,狮子似乎比他自己还为他妈妈感到伤心。

“我的孩子,我的孩子啊,”阿斯兰说,“我知道,这简直太令人伤心了。在这片土地上,只有咱俩能够体会。让我们互助互爱吧。可是,我要为纳尼亚数百年的命运着想。你带到这个世界来的那个女巫将重返纳尼亚,不过她暂时还不会回来。我希望在纳尼亚栽一棵她不敢靠近的树,那棵树将保卫纳尼亚许多年不受她的侵犯。因此,在乌云蔽日之前,这片土地将会迎来一个漫长而灿烂的早晨。你得为我去取树种。”

“遵命,阁下,”迪格雷说。他虽然不知道该怎么办,但这会儿却坚信自己能够办到。狮子深深地吸了口气,将头垂得更低了,垂到他脸上时给了他一个吻。迪格雷立刻感到他的身体里注入了新的力量和勇气。

“亲爱的孩子,”阿斯兰说,“我会告诉你该怎么做的。回头往西看,告诉我,你看见了什么?”

“我看见了巍峨的群山,阿斯兰,”迪格雷说。“我还看见有一条河奔下悬崖形成一座瀑布。悬崖之外,是苍翠的高高山林。山林之外,是黑沉沉的更为高峻的山脉。在更远处,巨大的雪山连绵不绝——像是照片上的阿尔卑斯山。雪山的后面,除了天空什么也没有。”

“你看得很清楚,”狮子说,“奔流直下的瀑布就是纳尼亚国土的边界,你一旦到了悬崖顶上,就出了纳尼亚的国界,进入西方的荒蛮之地了。你必须长途跋涉越过那些高山,最后你会找到一个冰山环抱的青翠峡谷,那里有一个碧蓝的湖泊。湖的一面,有一座陡峭的青山,山顶有一个花园,花园中央种着一棵树,你从树上摘一个苹果,把它带回来给我。”

“遵命,阁下,”迪格雷又这样说。其实他压根儿不知道如何爬上悬崖,也不知道怎样才能在崇山峻岭中不迷失方向,可他又不愿意说,生怕听上去像是在找借口。但是他还是说:“阿斯兰,我希望,您不是急着要。我去了那里一时半会儿可是回不来的。”

“年轻的亚当之子啊,你会得到帮助的,”阿斯兰说完,转向了那匹马。它一直静悄悄地站在他们身边,一边甩着尾巴驱赶苍蝇,一边歪着头听他们说话,好像他们谈的内容有点儿费解似的。

“我亲爱的,”阿斯兰对马说道,“你愿意成为一匹飞马吗?”

你真该看看当时那匹马是怎样甩着鬣毛,张着鼻孔,一只后蹄嗒嗒踩着地面的。显然,它十分乐意成为一匹飞马。但它只是这样说:

“如果您希望,阿斯兰——您要是真的想——我不明白为啥选中我——我可不是一匹很机灵的马。”

“生出翅膀吧,所有飞马都称你为父,”阿斯兰大吼一声,吼声震地,“我给你取名叫弗兰奇。”

那匹马吓得缩了回去,在以前拉车的苦难岁月里,它经常会受到这种惊吓。接着,它嘶叫了一声,扭着脖子,好像有只苍蝇叮着它的肩膀,它想扭过头去挠痒痒似的。不一会儿,像是动物们先前从土里冒出来一样,弗兰奇的肩上突然冒出一对翅膀,翅膀铺展开去,越长越大,超过了鹰的翅膀,超过了天鹅的翅膀,最后超过了教堂窗户上天使的翅膀。翅羽闪耀着栗色和铜色的光泽。它猛一展翅,跃到了空中,在阿斯兰和迪格雷头顶二十英尺来高的空中打着响鼻,嘶鸣着,腾跃着。围着他们飞了一圈后,它降落了下来,四蹄一齐落地,姿势看上去还有点儿笨拙。它好像很惊讶,但又十分欣喜。

“还行吧,弗兰奇?”阿斯兰问。

“太棒了,阿斯兰,”弗兰奇说。

“你愿意驮着这位年轻的亚当之子,带他去往我说的那个山谷吗?”

“什么?这会儿?立马就去?”草莓问——不过,我们现在得叫它弗兰奇了——“快!骑上来吧,小东西,我以前驮过你这样的东西,那是在很久以前了,那会儿有绿油油的田野,还有糖块儿呢。”

“这两位夏娃的女儿在交头接耳说些什么呢?”阿斯兰说,突然转向了波莉和马车夫的妻子,她俩显然已经交上了朋友。

“要是您愿意的话,阁下,”海伦王后(现在该这么称呼马车夫的妻子蕾丽了)说,“我看这位小姑娘也想跟着去,如果这不误事的话。”

“不知道弗兰奇意下如何?”狮子问。

“噢,我不介意驮俩,驮这俩小家伙更是不在话下,”弗兰奇说,“不过我希望大象不要跟着爬上来。”

大象可没想上去。纳尼亚的新国王帮着两个孩子上了马背:他随手一举,先将迪格雷举了上去;又将波莉轻手轻脚地扶上马背,把她当成个易碎的瓷娃娃似的。“他俩都坐稳啦,草莓——弗兰奇,俺从今以后该这么叫你了。前路莫测呀。”

“别飞得太高,”阿斯兰叮嘱着,“不要硬去飞越巨大的冰山的顶峰。要留意着山谷,那是些绿油油的地带,从那里穿越过去。上路吧,我祝你们一路平安。”

“嗬,弗兰奇!”迪格雷边说边弯下腰,拍了拍马儿光亮的脖子。“太好玩了。抓紧我,波莉。”

不一会儿,那片土地就被他们远远地抛在了下面。弗兰奇盘旋了一两圈,宛如一只巨大的鸽子,大地似乎也跟着旋转了起来。然后,它向西飞去,开始了漫长的征程。波莉向下望去,几乎看不见国王和王后了,连阿斯兰也只是碧草中一个醒目的黄点。风立刻扑面而来。弗兰奇稳稳地拍打着翅膀。

纳尼亚在他们脚下展现出了全貌。草地、岩石、石南花以及各种各样的树木将大地点缀得五彩缤纷,还有一条河流,宛如一条水银的带子蜿蜒而去。右边,是一列连绵向北的低矮山丘,他们的目光越过山顶,看见山外边有一片巨大的沼泽,随地势缓缓升高,一直铺展到天边。左边的山脉更为高峻,但时不时露出一个山凹,从那里望过去,透过挺拔的松林,能瞥见南方的土地,湛蓝而又辽阔。

“那儿想必就是阿钦兰吧,”波莉说。

“是的,看前面!”迪格雷说。

突然,悬崖在他们面前竖起了一道巨大的屏障。地势向西逐渐升高,西边的高地上河流汇聚成一座巨大的瀑布,呼啸着跌入纳尼亚境内,水花飞溅。阳光在瀑布上舞动着,刺得他们目眩。他们在高空中翱翔着,在那高度,瀑布的轰鸣听起来不过是细微的响动。不过,他们还飞得不够高,还不能飞越那些悬崖的顶峰。

“我们要在这里走一阵‘之’字形路线了,”弗兰奇说,“抓紧喽。”

它开始左一程右一程地前进,一次比一次飞得高。空气越来越凛冽了,鹰在他们脚下很远处叫唤着。

“大家注意,朝后看!在你们身后!”波莉喊道。

他们朝那边望去,只见纳尼亚的峡谷向东一直延伸到地平线的尽头,那儿有一片晶莹的大海。从他们现在的高度望下去,西北方沼泽外参差的群山显得格外渺小,平原像沙漠一般广袤,铺展向遥远的南方。

“希望有人能告诉我们那儿是什么地方,”迪格雷说。

“我看那儿还算不上什么地方,”波莉说。“我的意思是,那儿没有人,也没有发生过任何事情,那个世界今天才开始。”

“不能这么说,总会有人到那里去的,”迪格雷说。“你看,那样一来,就会有历史了。”

“咳,幸好还没有,”波莉说,“因为没人能真正懂得历史。满纸的战争、年代,一大堆这样的废话。”

这会儿,他们已飞临悬崖之巅,不一会儿,纳尼亚山谷就被他们甩在身后,从他们的视野中消失了。他们依旧沿着河流飞行,下面是一片荒原,到处都是陡峭的山坡和黑漆漆的树林。巍峨的群山在前方若隐若现。然而阳光迎面射来,使他们看不清前方的景物。因为太阳正在慢慢下山,到最后,西边的天空像是铺满了熔化的黄金,成了一只巨大的熔炉。终于,夕阳在一排参差的山峰背后沉没了,在夕阳余晖的映衬下,挺立的山峰仿佛一张清晰而平坦的剪影。

“这儿不怎么暖和,”波莉说。

“我的翅膀开始酸了,”弗兰奇说,“阿斯兰说的那个有湖的山谷还不见踪影。何不下去找一个舒服的地方过了夜再说?今晚我们是甭想到达目的地了。”

“好吧,现在也该吃晚饭了吧?”迪格雷说。

于是,弗兰奇越飞越低。当他们靠近大地,飞临小山丘时,空气暖和了起来。经历了好几小时的漫长飞行,一路上除了弗兰奇扇动翅膀的声音,什么也听不见,现在又听见了亲切而熟悉的声音,他们别提有多高兴了。流水潺潺,拍打着河床的石头;微风飒飒,吹拂着林中的树木。泥土、青草和鲜花在太阳的炙烤下散发着一股暖烘烘的香气,朝他们扑鼻而来。弗兰奇终于着陆了。迪格雷翻下马背,又扶波莉爬了下来。他俩都很高兴总算能舒展一下僵硬的腿脚了。

他们降落的那个山谷正好处在群山中心,抬头只见积雪覆盖着群山,其中一座在夕阳的余晖中披上了一层玫瑰红。

“我饿了,”迪格雷说。

“来吧,尽情地吃吧,”弗兰奇说着,咬了一大口青草嚼了起来。它不停地嚼着,嘴角两边像长了胡子似的戳出东一根西一根的草来。过了一会儿,它抬起头说:“来呀,你们俩,别不好意思,这儿的草够咱们吃的。”

“可是我们不吃草,”迪格雷说。

“哼哧,哼哧,”弗兰奇嚼着满嘴的草,说道,“唉——哼哧——真不知道你们想怎么样。多好的草呀。”

波莉和迪格雷只能无奈地面面相觑。

“我想,一定有人给我们准备好了晚饭,”迪格雷说。

“你们去恳求一下阿斯兰吧,我想它肯定会为你们准备好的,”弗兰奇说。

“不恳求它就不知道吗?”波莉问。

“它肯定知道的,”马儿说(嘴里仍大口嚼着草),“不过,我总觉得它喜欢别人恳求它。”

“那我们到底该怎么办好呢?”迪格雷问。

“我怎么知道,”弗兰奇说,“除非你们尝尝这草,弄不好比你们想象的要好吃。”

“唉,别说傻话了,”波莉跺着脚嚷道,“人当然没法儿吃草,就像你也不吃羊排。”

“看在上帝分上,别提什么羊排了,”迪格雷说道,“越提事情越糟。”

迪格雷对波莉说,她最好戴上戒指回家,然后取些吃的回来;他自己不能去,因为他答应过阿斯兰要直接去完成任务的,要是又回了家,弄不好就给什么事耽搁住了。可是,波莉说她是不会抛下他的,迪格雷说她真是太够意思了。

“啊哈,”波莉说,“我还有一袋太妃糖没吃完呢,搁在外套口袋里。总比没吃的强吧。”

“强太多啦,”迪格雷说,“但把手伸进去掏的时候可要小心,别碰着戒指。”

这事可不那么好办,不过他们终于还是成功了。那一小袋糖最后从口袋里掏出来时,纸袋软趴趴黏糊糊的,所以,要把糖从纸袋上撕下来可比从口袋里把糖掏出来难得多啦。有些大人(你可见识过他们遇上这等事儿时的脾气),宁愿不吃晚饭饿肚子,也不愿吃那些太妃糖。他们数了一下,一共九颗糖。还是迪格雷想出了一个好点子,每人吃四颗,然后将第九颗种在土里。他说:“从灯柱上拧下来的铁棍都能长成一棵小小的灯柱树,那么凭什么这颗糖不会长成一棵太妃糖树呢?”于是,他们在草地上挖了一个很小的洞,把那颗太妃糖埋了进去。埋好后,他们吃起了剩下的那八颗糖,他们细嚼慢咽,生怕它化得太快。那顿晚饭实在是太糟糕了,可他们恨不得连糖带纸一块儿吞下去。

弗兰奇吃完它那顿丰盛的晚餐后躺了下来。孩子们走到它跟前,一边一个,坐下来靠着它温暖的身体。它铺开翅膀一边盖住一个,他们觉得又暖和又舒适。这时候,明亮而年轻的星星在这个崭新的世界里升了起来,他们谈起了心里话:迪格雷当时希望能找到什么东西来治好他妈妈的病,可后来,却被派去执行了这项任务。他们一再地谈起他们要找的那个地方的特征——湛蓝的湖泊,山顶有座花园的小丘。他们谈着谈着,速度慢了下来,终于觉得困了。突然,波莉惊醒了,一下子坐了起来,嘴里发出“嘘!”的一声。

大家都集中精神侧耳倾听。

“也许只是一阵风吹过了树林吧,”迪格雷随口说。

“我不敢肯定,”弗兰奇说,“不管怎样——等等!又来了。阿斯兰在上,是有动静。”

马儿腾的一下站了起来,巨大的身体往上一耸,发出很大的声响。孩子们也已经爬起来了。弗兰奇来来回回地小跑着,嘶鸣着,嗅嗅这儿,嗅嗅那儿。孩子们蹑手蹑脚地走到东,走到西,在每一丛灌木和每一棵树背后查探着。他们总觉得看见了什么。有一回,波莉十分肯定自己看到一个高大的黑影迅速朝西面溜去。但他们什么也没有找到。最后,弗兰奇又躺了下来,孩子们又偎依(如果可以这么说的话)在马的翅膀下,很快就睡着了。弗兰奇好长时间一直醒着,在黑暗中一忽儿前一忽儿后地摆动着它的耳朵,还时不时打个寒战,似乎有只苍蝇落在了它的身上。但最后,它还是睡着了。

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