While they were looking at this they heard a sound of music on their right; and turning in that direction they saw what they had come to see.
Aslan stood in the center of a crowd of creatures who had grouped themselves round him in the shape of a half-moon.
There were Tree-Women there and Well-Women (Dryads and Naiads as they used to be called in our world) who had stringed instruments; it was they who had made the music.
There were four great centaurs.
The horse part of them was like huge English farm horses, and the man part was like stern but beautiful giants.
There was also a unicorn, and a bull with the head of a man, and a pelican, and an eagle, and a great Dog.
And next to Aslan stood two leopards of whom one carried his crown and the other his standard.
But as for Aslan himself, the Beavers and the children didn’t know what to do or say when they saw him.
People who have not been in Narnia sometimes think that a thing cannot be good and terrible at the same time.
If the children had ever thought so, they were cured of it now.
For when they tried to look at Aslan’s face they just caught a glimpse of the golden mane and the great, royal, solemn, overwhelming eyes; and then they found they couldn’t look at him and went all trembly.
“Go on,” whispered Mr. Beaver.
“No,” whispered Peter, “you first.”
“No, Sons of Adam before animals,” whispered Mr. Beaver back again.
“Susan,” whispered Peter, “what about you?
Ladies first.”
“No, you’re the eldest,” whispered Susan.
And of course the longer they went on doing this the more awkward they felt.
Then at last Peter realized that it was up to him.
He drew his sword and raised it to the salute and hastily saying to the others
“Come on.
Pull yourselves together,” he advanced to the Lion and said:
“We have come—Aslan.”
“Welcome, Peter, Son of Adam,” said Aslan.
“Welcome, Susan and Lucy, Daughters of Eve.
Welcome He-Beaver and She-Beaver.”
His voice was deep and rich and somehow took the fidgets out of them.
They now felt glad and quiet and it didn’t seem awkward to them to stand and say nothing.
“But where is the fourth?” asked Aslan.
“He has tried to betray them and joined the White Witch, O Aslan,” said Mr. Beaver.
And then something made Peter say,
“That was partly my fault, Aslan.
I was angry with him and I think that helped him to go wrong.”
And Aslan said nothing either to excuse Peter or to blame him but merely stood looking at him with his great unchanging eyes.
And it seemed to all of them that there was nothing to be said.
“Please—Aslan,” said Lucy, “can anything be done to save Edmund?”
“All shall be done,” said Aslan.
“But it may be harder than you think.”
And then he was silent again for some time.
Up to that moment Lucy had been thinking how royal and strong and peaceful his face looked; now it suddenly came into her head that he looked sad as well.
But next minute that expression was quite gone.
The Lion shook his mane and clapped his paws together (“Terrible paws,” thought Lucy, “if he didn’t know how to velvet them!”) and said,
“Meanwhile, let the feast be prepared.
Ladies, take these Daughters of Eve to the pavilion and minister to them.”
When the girls had gone Aslan laid his paw—and though it was velveted it was very heavy—on Peter’s shoulder and said,
“Come, Son of Adam, and I will show you a far-off sight of the castle where you are to be King.”
And Peter with his sword still drawn in his hand went with the Lion to the eastern edge of the hilltop.
There a beautiful sight met their eyes.
The sun was setting behind their backs. That meant that the whole country below them lay in the evening light—forest and hills and valleys and, winding away like a silver snake, the lower part of the great river.
And beyond all this, miles away, was the sea, and beyond the sea the sky, full of clouds which were just turning rose color with the reflection of the sunset.