Tell us about Aslan!” said several voices at once; for once again that strange feeling—like the first signs of spring, like good news, had come over them.
“Who is Aslan?” asked Susan.
“Aslan?” said Mr. Beaver.
“Why, don’t you know?
He’s the King. He’s the Lord of the whole wood, but not often here, you understand.
Never in my time or my father’s time.
But the word has reached us that he has come back.
He is in Narnia at this moment.
He’ll settle the White Queen all right.
It is he, not you, that will save Mr. Tumnus.”
“She won’t turn him into stone too?” said Edmund.
“Lord love you, Son of Adam, what a simple thing to say!” answered Mr. Beaver with a great laugh.
“Turn him into stone?
If she can stand on her two feet and look him in the face it’ll be the most she can do and more than I expect of her.
No, no. He’ll put all to rights as it says in an old rhyme in these parts:
Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight, At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more, When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death, And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.
You’ll understand when you see him.”
“But shall we see him?” asked Susan.
“Why, Daughter of Eve, that’s what I brought you here for.
I’m to lead you where you shall meet him,” said Mr. Beaver.
“Is—is he a man?” asked Lucy.
“Aslan a man!” said Mr. Beaver sternly.
“Certainly not.
I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-beyond-the-Sea.
Don’t you know who is the King of Beasts?
Aslan is a lion—the Lion, the great Lion.”
“Ooh!” said Susan,
“I’d thought he was a man.
Is he—quite safe?
I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”
“That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver; “if there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.”
“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.
“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you?
Who said anything about safe?
‘Course he isn’t safe.
But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”
“I’m longing to see him,” said Peter, “even if I do feel frightened when it comes to the point.”
“That’s right, Son of Adam,” said Mr. Beaver, bringing his paw down on the table with a crash that made all the cups and saucers rattle.
“And so you shall.
Word has been sent that you are to meet him, tomorrow if you can, at the Stone Table.”
“Where’s that?” said Lucy.
“I’ll show you,” said Mr. Beaver.
“It’s down the river, a good step from here.
I’ll take you to it!”
“But meanwhile what about poor Mr. Tumnus?” said Lucy.
“The quickest way you can help him is by going to meet Aslan,” said Mr. Beaver, “once he’s with us, then we can begin doing things.
Not that we don’t need you too.
For that’s another of the old rhymes:
When Adam’s flesh and Adam’s bone
Sits at Cair Paravel in throne,