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Beaulieu excited about Sabres' youth, Housley's systemby Jourdon LaBarber @jourdonlabarber / Sabres.com
Nathan Beaulieu knew a move was coming, he just didn't know when.
With less than an hour to go until the NHL's trade freeze on Saturday afternoon, Beaulieu got the call. The Buffalo Sabres acquired the left-shot defenseman from the Montreal Canadiens in exchange for a third-round pick in next weekend's NHL Draft.
One day and one phone call with Sabres management later, it sounded like Beaulieu was pleased with the destination.
"I see a huge opportunity," he said in a conference call on Sunday. "I'm very fortunate that I'm staying close to home and Buffalo has such a young, bright future. Talking to management yesterday, I feel like I'm going to fit right into that process right away. I'm just really refreshed and excited, super happy."
Beaulieu, 24, spent parts of five seasons with the Canadiens, who drafted him with the 17th pick in 2011. He averaged a career-high 19:29 of ice time last season, but could see his time with the organization coming to an end when he was a healthy scratch in Game 6 of Montreal's first-round series against the New York Rangers last month.
"I think that was kind of the cherry on the top of a situation that was kind of over with, I guess," Beaulieu said. "I wasn't expecting to be put in that situation, and after I was I felt pretty strongly that a move like this was going to be made and was going to be best for me."
Had Beaulieu not been moved by 3 p.m. on Saturday, the question would have arose as to whether or not he'd be available for selection by Las Vegas in this week's expansion draft. He called it relieving not only to have rid himself of the uncertainty (he was one of three defensemen, along with Jake McCabe and Rasmus Ristolainen, to be protected by the Sabres), but to finally feel that he's in the right situation.
He should be plenty familiar with Buffalo, too, having shared a division with the Sabres for his entire career. It sounds as though the Sabres' young core made an impression on him over the past two seasons.
"The biggest thing is youth and how energetic it was to play against them," he said. "Young teams are scary to play against because you don't really know what to expect … Every team knows in the League that Buffalo is young and has a great future ahead of them so I'm just very fortunate to be a part of that."
Sabres general manager Jason Botterill pointed to the defense as an area in need of improvement upon being hired last month. Beaulieu is the second addition made to that end, joining fellow left-shot defenseman Victor Antipin. Both players were added with hopes of contributing to Buffalo's ability to move the puck up the ice in transition.
The Sabres also added a pretty good puck-moving defenseman in new coach Phil Housley, who was hired by the team last Thursday.
"I'm so excited because the style of play he wants to put forth is going to fit right into my game," Beaulieu said. "I've got a huge opportunity here to really grow my game with a guy who played the game similar to how I would like to play."

subset: commoncrawl


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While American's wait to see if WikiLeaks will reveal any juicy information concerning Hilary Clinton's lost emails, the Royal Bank of Scotland (RBS) is quite possibly in the middle of the biggest small business banking scandal ever. From government over regulation to a department hell bent on ending organizations to recoup assets, RBS has somehow lowered the bar for billion dollar banking institutions.
To begin I want to post part of the official statement from RBS
"In the aftermath of the financial crisis, we did not always meet our own high standards, and we let of our SME (small and medium-sized enterprises) customers down. We have already acknowledged that, in some areas, we could, and should, have done better for SME customers. Specifically, we could have managed the transition to GRG better, and we could have better explained to customers any changes to the prices or fees we were charging. We also did not always handle customer complaints well. As a result, a number of our customers did not receive the level of service they should have done or, importantly, that they would receive now."
In one of the biggest understatements of the year, RBS is accused of coercing 16,000 small businesses into joining the RBS Global Restructuring Group (GRG) during the Financial Crisis. Internally this program was known as operation "Dash for Cash". According to a BuzzFeed report "the files show how small businesses were forced to join the Global Restructuring unit, a part of the bank intended to help ailing businesses, even if those SMEs had never missed a loan payment. In addition "the files show that RBS forced businesses to join GRG for questionable reasons, like small business customers showing consideration for leaving RBS or threatening to sue the bank for mistreatment." Operation "Dash for Cash" is said to have accounted for over $1 billion in profit for RBS.
What makes the situation worse is that during the crisis, RBS "told lawmakers that GRG was not a profit center."
But RBS' actions were not without cause.
After the financial crisis, over regulation hit many banks like RBS in droves. RBS initially struggled under new post-bailout government requirements. Regulatory bodies pressured the bank "to reduce its property loan exposure, increase capital reserves and increase overall profits to aid economic recovery. To meet these demands, RBS reportedly launched its effort to offload business loans — a strategy grasped by many major financial institutions in the wake of the financial crisis, with SME loans deemed high-risk and not profitable enough to justify the exposure." The result was the hidden GRG program, with government agencies asking few questions about RBS' new profit source.
The government is currently involved in its own investigation of the bank's practices, but it is unclear what the possible punishments may be. Some are estimating the bank may be responsible for a payout of billions, but only time will tell.
"What was uncovered in these documents does not match what they said to us," said Conservative MP Steve Baker in an interview with The Telegraph. "we were badly misled."


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San Diego County (for those not living in the West counties are really big here) lost one of its two Sam's Club this month. It closed last week as one of ten non-profitable stores the company shut down. Yep, out of the 3 million residents here only one store can be profitable.
Four of the ten stores were in California. Interesting yes, surprising no. There are two reasons I think Sam's Club never caught on here. One is because of the parent corporation and other is due to its competitor.
California managed to stave off Walmart for years until suddenly they seemed to pop up everyone in the past decade. This happened after a lot of NIMBYism. Lately the fight has been mostly against the Walmart Supercenters. The company's reputation surrounding employee pay and treatment was not good.
According to a NBC San Diego story, "One of the most common criticisms against Wal-Mart is that its new and expanded stores undercut local wages and pressure competitors to scale back their employees' health care and other benefits."
Warehouse clubs attract a different demographic than the Walmart stores and that demographic didn't need Sam's Club to get good warehouse buys.
A San Diegan, Sol Price, opened the first warehouse store in 1976. Price Club grew and expanded to several locations in the county. Then they merged with Costco in 1993 which had been founded by a protege of Sol Price. Costco now has a dozen stores deeply ingrained in the local culture.
People generally aren't going to pay for two warehouse memberships. We only went to Sam's Club when they had a one-day shopping pass promotion or with out-of-towners who had a card. The main benefit was that I could buy a piece of clothing there and know I wouldn't see others wearing the same thing wherever I went (yes, that's common in this Costco culture).
So, adios to Sam's Club. You really didn't stand a chance, but sorry to see you go.
Content © Bucksomeboomer 2009-2010. All Rights Reserved.


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William Smith (letters last week), you are being unfair to Swanny. He did join in the campaign to get rid of Fergie. In one of his articles he said Fergie should go - but only if Mourinho was available to take on the job.
Since then he has not expressed an opinion about Fergie at all despite being challenged to do so both before and after Fergie left.
So much for the fearless voice of journalism but I do suppose it is hard to use a laptop whilst sitting on a fence.
We want to hear true impartial comment about local teams, but it should not include drivel about managers like Mourinho being the only person fit to take over from Fergie.
Get real Swanny! If you want to be controversial then be controversial about the local issues which matter to the local people.
Cricket is a team game. Kevin Pietersen is not a team player. End of argument.
The amount of cheating in El Clasico was embarrassing.
You don't see Lionel Messi dive that often. He stays on his feet and wants to score
Neymar is the most over-rated player on the plant.
Football gets more disgraceful by the week. El Clasico was another example.
Sunderland are the worst team to watch in the Premier League and Gus Poyet should take the blame for that. I hope they go down though and Burnley stay up.
Richard King


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Sail away from Bali to Nusa Lembongan Island aboard Aristocat – Bali Hai Cruises' luxury Sailing Catamaran. Enjoy a day trip or an overnight stay in the pristine Lembongan bay at Bali Hai Cruises private Beach Club, where you can relax on golden sand, lie back in the shade of tranquil gardens or cool off in a lagoon pool.
Sailing to Lembongan, Aboard our sailing catamaran we provide complimentary soft drinks and refreshments as we travel from mainland Bali to Nusa Lembongan. Upon arrival at the Hai Tide Beach Resort, you will enjoy a delicious BBQ lunch grilled at our poolside cabana, which includes salads, steaks and fresh fish. After lunch, join a guided village tour of this small unspoiled island, home to seaweed farmers.
The Aristocat sailing cruise offers an array of water sports activities, including banana boat rides, pool volley ball, snorkeling and semi submersible coral viewer. Other water sports options include a parasailing adventure which will take you high above the water for a birds' eye view of the island and scuba diving with our in house dive team – Bali Hai Diving Adventures. Certified divers may travel further a field to experience life beneath the waves in this vibrant ocean channel between Nusa Lembongan and Nusa Penida. Whether you want adventure or relaxation, the Aristocat Sailing Cruise is a perfect day out for the whole family.
And when the day is done, the Aristocat luxury catamaran makes a leisurely cruise back to Benoa Harbour, arriving as the sun sets on another glorious day in Bali.
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text: drobeski 1,521 Posted April 27, 2018 Saints vanished because you all are bat ###### crazy morons and you prove it every day. Your posts are just completely idiotic. Bumping GatewayPundit posts by a conspiracy nut like Filthy is good for a laugh too. russia collusion Share this post Link to post Share on other sites


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It was interesting to watch the
They brought in pollsters to their party conferences to persuade their members that the country was fervently behind them. They were supported by their interest groups and cheered on by their activists and the partisan press. They spent federal money in an effort to buy support but ended up disgusting the country instead.
It's not that interesting to watch the Democrats lose touch with America. That's because the plotline is exactly the same. The party is led by insular liberals from big cities and the coasts, who neither understand nor sympathize with moderates. They have their own cherry-picking pollsters, their own media and activist cocoon, their own plans to lavishly spend borrowed money to buy votes.
This ideological overreach won't be any more successful than the last one. A
Approval of Obama's handling of health care, for example, has slid from 57 percent to 49 percent since April. Disapproval has risen from 29 percent to 44 percent. As recently as June, voters earning more than $50,000 preferred Obama to the Republicans on health care by a 21-point margin. Now those voters are evenly split.Continue reading the main story
Most independents now disapprove of Obama's health care strategy. In March, only 32 percent of Americans thought Obama was an old-style,
We're only in the early stages of the liberal
Then there is the budget. Instead of allaying moderate anxieties about the deficits, the budget is expected to increase the government debt by $11 trillion between 2009 and 2019.
Finally, there is health care. Every cliché
The House bill adds $239 billion to the federal deficit during the first 10 years, according to the
Who's going to stop this leftward surge? Months ago, it seemed as if Obama would lead a center-left coalition. Instead, he has deferred to the Old Bulls on Capitol Hill on issue after issue.
Machiavelli said a leader should be feared as well as loved. Obama is loved by the Democratic chairmen, but he is not feared. On health care, Obama has emphasized cost control. The chairmen flouted his priorities because they don't fear him. On
Last week, the administration announced a proposal to take
That leaves matters in the hands of the Blue Dog Democrats. These brave moderates are trying to restrain the fiscal explosion. But moderates inherently lack seniority (they are from swing districts). They are usually bought off by leadership at the end of the day.
And so here we are again. Every new majority overinterprets its mandate. We've been here before. We'll be here again.Continue reading the main story


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The Texas Republicans have reaffirmed their homosexuality this weekend at their convention in San Antonio this past weekend.
In an act right out of Gay Cake Wars IV, the party released the document titled Report of 2018 Permanent Platform & Resolutions Committee which includes multiple negative policies toward our community, some calling for the repeal of local, regional, or state nondiscrimination statutes which protect LGBTQ persons.
The entire platform may be read and searched here. Some of the more volatile ones against our LGBTQ+ community are:
14. Counseling and Therapy: No laws or executive orders shall be imposed to limit or restrict access to sexual orientation counseling for self-motivated youth and adults.
102. Hate Crimes: We urge the complete repeal of the Hate Crimes Law since ample laws are currently in effect to punish criminal behavior towards other persons.
240. Gender Identity: We oppose all efforts to validate transgender identity. We call upon our legislature to enact laws prohibiting the use of hormones before the age of 18 in an attempt to change gender. We believe it should be illegal to remove healthy body parts in minors in an effort to try to transition to the opposite sex.
303. Religious Freedom for Business Owners: We support the removal of laws and regulations that are used to force business owners and employees to violate their sincerely held beliefs.
319. Overturn Unconstitutional Ruling: We believe this decision, overturning the Texas law prohibiting same-sex marriage in Texas, has no basis in the Constitution and should be reversed, returning jurisdiction over the definition of marriage to the states. The Governor and other elected officials of the State of Texas should assert our Tenth Amendment right and reject the Supreme Court ruling.
According to OutSmart Magazine, "In response to the efforts of the Log Cabin Republicans, delegates removed an especially heinous anti-gay sentence from the platform stating that, 'Homosexual behavior is contrary to the fundamental truths that have been ordained by God in the Bible.'"
We expect society to go backwards as 45 has given many of the more conservative and backwards thinking citizens a voice. They've been here before but the moral compass was progressing in such a good way. Now, it's clicking back down.
Let us not forget that June 26, 2018 is the 15th anniversary of the legalization of gay sex in Texas–and other states.
Despite practice by heterosexual couples, the laws were specifically designed to target and to punish same-sex couples. In 1960, every state had an anti-sodomy law. That all changed with the case of Lawrence v. Texas, which fortified the right of consenting adults to engage in private sexual behavior–of any kind. – thegavoice.com
In June of 2003, the Supreme Court of the United States ruled 6 to 3 that such laws were illegal. Prior to 2003, 15 American states had laws banning sodomy, even between consenting private adults (Kansas, Oklahoma, Missouri, Alabama, Florida, Idaho, Louisiana, Mississippi, North Carolina, South Carolina, Michigan, Utah, Texas, and Virginia). Many of these states did not take these laws off the books, but these old laws are considered null and void and cannot be used by the state to punish LGBTQ or any citizens.
Will we see the rise of Texas and its anti-LGBTQ+ laws?
h/t: thegavoice.com


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Daphne Caruana Galizia: We knew establishment was out to get her family
Murdered investigative journalists sons tell of attempts on their mothers life, and why they blame a takedown of the rule of law in Malta for her death
Looking back, they had known perhaps for a long time that it might end like this. With hindsight, says Matthew Caruana Galizia , red-eyed from emotion and lack of sleep, it seems obvious. This wasnt an aberration, he says. It was a culmination.
The air in the family home in the hamlet of Bidnija, half an hours drive from the Maltese capital, Valletta, is thick with grief and quiet anger. Police guard the entrance to the gravel driveway and the cast-iron gates in front of the house.
Matthew, his brothers Andrew and Paul, and their aunt Corinne sit on the sofa and a couple of old armchairs around a large, low table filled with empty coffee cups. It is a warm, comfortable, lived-in room; on another day, you might admire the view.
But outside, down the hill a few hundred yards away and just visible from the end of the drive, a blue and white marquee stands in the middle of a field. Figures in white overalls comb the ground around it; the road beside it is closed to traffic and lined with police cars and vans.
The marquee covers the remains of the Peugeot in which the brothers mother and Corinnes sister, the investigative journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia, was killed on Monday afternoon in an explosion so powerful that it blew the car, in pieces, into the field.
I was sitting at the table there, said Matthew, himself a Pulitzer prizewinning investigative journalist. I heard the explosion; the windows rattled, the whole house vibrated. I knew she was dead before I got up from my chair.
Daphne Caruana Galizia had made many enemies in the 30 years since she first began skewering alleged high-level corruption in Maltas political, business and criminal elites often, she would argue, one and the same, or at least closely connected in print.


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How To Dress Well – Love Remains
Tom Krell from New York also lives in Germany. He also goes by the name How To Dress Well and has put out an EP, a R. Kelly tribute to his best friend and a full length album of his lo-fi R&B stylings. I have been listening to HTDW since the singles started trickling out and I have been torn. Do I like this stuff? Is it too lo-fi? Can I get past the distortion and appreciate the music behind it? Will I come around like I did with Sleigh Bells or give up like I did with Wavves?
Well, it took that R. Kelly video to bring me around and help me understand the talent this guy possesses. And even though this album would rate much higher if it weren't for the distortion, I can't help but be drawn into the treasures buried behind it.
How To Dress Well – Ready For The World


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Northwest Orient Airlines Flight 104
Northwest Orient Airlines Flight 104Friday October 28, 1960
Crashed into mountains in snow showers while descending to Missoula. The aircraft entered a steep left banking turn and the nose was raised in an apparent attempt to turn and climb out through an intersecting valley, however, the aircraft continued to sink toward the ground, rolled to the left and crashed inverted. The failure of the pilot to continue in accordance with his IFR flight plan by attempting a VFR approach during instrument weather conditions.


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The Oklahoma City Times (Oklahoma City, Okla.), Vol. 26, No. 259, Ed. 1 Thursday, February 11, 1915
Description: Daily newspaper from Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. Includes local, state, and national news along with advertising.
Date: February 11, 1915
Creator: Fields, John
Item Type: Refine your search to only Newspaper
Partner: Oklahoma Historical Society


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Jet Propulsion Laboratory, California Institute of Technology, Pasadena, CA 91109
University of California, Los Angeles, CA 90024
Department of Medicine, Cardiology Division, University of Southern California, Los Angeles, CA 90033
Flow visualization and wall pressure measurements were made in a smooth reverse curvature model that conformed to the gentle "s" shape of a left femoral artery angiogram of a patient in a clinical trial. Observed lesion localization at the inner (lesser) curvatures appeared to be associated with secondary flows in the wall vicinity directed toward the inner curvatures that tended to reverse direction in the flow entering the reverse curvature region. Moderate flow resistance increases of about 20 percent above the Poiseuille flow relation were found at the higher physiological Reynolds numbers Re above about 600–700 and thus Dean numbers for steady flow. For pulsatile flow simulation, flow resistances did not increase up to the largest Re of 470 tested. Apparently, the large variations in velocity during the cardiac cycle disrupted the stronger secondary flow patterns observed at the higher Reynolds numbers for steady flow.
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The American Society of Mechanical Engineers
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American Healthcare CNA School is a licensed educational institution providing courses leading to qualification as Certified Nursing Assistant (CNA)/Nursing Assistant Certified (NAC). We offer 96 hours (4 to 6 weeks) of tuition and clinical skills in our classroom Laboratory and external skilled practical settings. Each student is required to have a Two-step TB test done prior to clinical rotation, this can be done by the student at their preferred location before classes begin or by a Registered Nurse in the school for $20 per shot. Tuition and clinical skills include textbooks and laboratory fees.
Each student on commencement of the CNA/NAC program is assisted to obtain a Nursing Assistant Registered License (NAR) from the Department of Health if needed, and on successful completion of the program receives a CNA/NAC certificate of completion that enables the student to sit for the State CNA/NAC Exams.
We also offer allied courses including First Aid/CPR/AED training, Fundamentals of Care Giving, HIV/AIDS Training Certificate, Nurse Delegation for NA, and Nurse Delegation for Diabetics, Food Handling and Care Giver Dementia Specialty Training Certificates.
Notwithstanding the current economic downturn, the demand for health care personnel including CNAs / NACs is relatively high. Registration for the course is simple and could be done online, mail or fax. Fees are moderate and highly competitive. Students have a choice of attending days, evenings or Weekend classes. Students on successful completion of the course are offered job placement opportunities under a network arrangement with employment recruiters.


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Magic. Mojo. The Groove.
Call it what you will, "it" has been noticeably missing from my writing life for the past...well...years. All the joy I once had for writing was totally and utterly kaput; every session at the keyboard was filled more with angst than productivity, or even enjoyment.
Ever since my divorce I've been on a journey of self-discovery. Most recently, it's been that my writing troubles do not stem from the emotional gulag that was my marriage and divorce; they go back much further, to my family of origin (FOO). Getting through this process has been akin to clawing my way through a labyrinth of thorns - horribly painful, but there's no other way out.
As a result, I'm writing again - and enjoying it. When I sit down at the keyboard, all that matters is the story in my head, and getting it out onto the screen. It's the first thing on my mind when I wake up, and even when I'm at my day job. Trust me - this hasn't happened in *years.*
Now, I'm not saying I'm cured - far from it. My Inner Editor, fueled by a lifetime of casual, hateful criticisms from my narcissistic mother, still has the power to cripple me. At least now I can recognize this roadblock for what it is; I'm becoming more and more adept at blockade running.
I suspect this will be an ongoing battle; writing, as a process, will never be as easy for me as it is for some. But it's MINE again, at least for the moment. And I couldn't be happier.
10 April 2010
Getting My Mojo Back
Magic. Mojo. The Groove.
2 comments:
- Carrie Lofty said...
*happy dancing*
You wanna grab coffee on the 18th?
- April 10, 2010 at 12:41 PM
- Nancy J. Parra said...
I'm so glad you are able to enjoy your process! Yay for this wonderful well-earned victory. Big pats on the back. Cheers~
- April 12, 2010 at 8:54 PM


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Jessica Alba on Cosmopolitan Journal March 2016 cowl
Jessica Alba seems red-hot on the March 2016 cowl of Cosmopolitan Journal, sporting a pink jacket, pants and bra prime. Photographed by Tesh, the actress turned Trustworthy Firm mogul seems modern however in cost sporting tailor-made jackets and attire.
Jessica Alba – Cosmopolitan Journal March 2016
In her interview, Jessica talks about not being female in her youth. "Most of my life, I recognized extra with my masculine facet. I used to be form of aggressive and tremendous masculine in my early 20s — even into my mid- 20s. I received boobs after I was younger … and I used to be like, What do I do? … I used to be by no means the woman who they marketed. I used to be at all times feeling indignant, like an imposter. I discovered find out how to be cool with the female later in life."
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Jessica Alba poses in Mugler bra high, jacket and pants
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Jessica Alba – Who What Put on x Goal Launch
JANUARY 28th: Jessica Alba attends the Goal x Who What Put on clothes launch in New York. Photograph: Goal
On January 28th, Jessica stepped out to attend the New York launch of Who What Put on's clothes collaboration with Goal. Jessica wore a floral print midi-skirt, striped shirt and leather-based jacket from the gathering on the occasion.
JANUARY 28th: Jessica Alba attends the Goal x Who What Put on clothes launch in New York. Picture: Goal
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فصل 01 - 03مجموعه: سرگذشت نارنیا / کتاب: صندلی نقره ای / فصل 1
سرفصل های مهم
فصل 01 - 03
توضیح مختصر
- زمان مطالعه 58 دقیقه
- سطح ساده
دانلود اپلیکیشن «زیبوک»
این فصل را میتوانید به بهترین شکل و با امکانات عالی در اپلیکیشن «زیبوک» بخوانید
فایل صوتی
ترجمهی فصل
متن انگلیسی فصل
IT WAS A DULL AUTUMN DAY AND JILL Pole was crying behind the gym.
She was crying because they had been bullying her. This is not going to be a school story, so I shall say as little as possible about Jill's school, which is not a pleasant subject. It was "Co-educational," a school for both boys and girls, what used to be called a "mixed" school; some said it was not nearly so mixed as the minds of the people who ran it. These people had the idea that boys and girls should be allowed to do what they liked. And unfortunately what ten or fifteen of the biggest boys and girls liked best was bullying the others. All sorts of things, horrid things, went on which at an ordinary school would have been found out and stopped in half a term; but at this school they weren't. Or even if they were, the people who did them were not expelled or punished. The Head said they were interesting psychological cases and sent for them and talked to them for hours. And if you knew the right sort of things to say to the Head, the main result was that you became rather a favorite than otherwise.
That was why Jill Pole was crying on that dull autumn day on the damp little path which runs between the back of the gym and the shrubbery. And she hadn't nearly finished her cry when a boy came round the corner of the gym whistling, with his hands in his pockets. He nearly ran into her.
"Can't you look where you're going?" said Jill Pole.
"All right," said the boy, "you needn't start—" and then he noticed her face. "I say, Pole," he said, "what's up?"
Jill only made faces; the sort you make when you're trying to say something but find that if you speak you'll start crying again.
"It's Them, I suppose—as usual," said the boy grimly, digging his hands farther into his pockets.
Jill nodded. There was no need for her to say anything, even if she could have said it. They both knew.
"Now, look here," said the boy, "there's no good us all—"
He meant well, but he did talk rather like someone beginning a lecture. Jill suddenly flew into a temper (which is quite a likely thing to happen if you have been interrupted in a cry).
"Oh, go away and mind your own business,"she said. "Nobody asked you to come barging in, did they? And you're a nice person to start telling us what we all ought to do, aren't you? I suppose you mean we ought to spend all our time sucking up to Them, and currying favor, and dancing attendance on Them like you do." "Oh, Lor!" said the boy, sitting down on the grassy bank at the edge of the shrubbery and very quickly getting up again because the grass was soaking wet. His name unfortunately was Eustace Scrubb, but he wasn't a bad sort.
"Pole!" he said. "Is that fair? Have I been doing anything of the sort this term? Didn't I stand up to Carter about the rabbit? And didn't I keep the secret about Spivvins—under torture too? And didn't I—" "I d-don't know and I don't care," sobbed Jill.
Scrubb saw that she wasn't quite herself yet and very sensibly offered her a peppermint. He had one too. Presently Jill began to see things in a clearer light.
"I'm sorry, Scrubb," she said presently. "I wasn't fair. You have done all that—this term."
"Then wash out last term if you can," said Eustace. "I was a different chap then. I was—gosh! what a little tick I was."
"Well, honestly, you were," said Jill.
"You think there has been a change, then?" said Eustace.
"It's not only me," said Jill. "Everyone's been saying so. They've noticed it. Eleanor Blakiston heard Adela Pennyfather talking about it in our changing room yesterday. She said, 'Someone's got hold of that Scrubb kid. He's quite unmanageable this term. We shall have to attend to him next.'" Eustace gave a shudder. Everyone at Experiment House knew what it was like being "attended to" by Them.
Both children were quiet for a moment. The drops dripped off the laurel leaves.
"Why were you so different last term?" said Jill presently.
"A lot of queer things happened to me in the hols," said Eustace mysteriously.
"What sort of things?" asked Jill.
Eustace didn't say anything for quite a long time. Then he said:
"Look here, Pole, you and I hate this place about as much as anybody can hate anything, don't we?"
"I know I do," said Jill.
"Then I really think I can trust you."
"Dam' good of you," said Jill.
"Yes, but this is a really terrific secret. Pole, I say, are you good at believing things? I mean things that everyone here would laugh at?"
"I've never had the chance," said Jill, "but I think I would be."
"Could you believe me if I said I'd been right out of the world—outside this world—last hols?"
"I wouldn't know what you meant."
"Well, don't let's bother about worlds then. Supposing I told you I'd been in a place where animals can talk and where there are—er—enchantments and dragons—and—well, all the sorts of things you have in fairy-tales." Scrubb felt terribly awkward as he said this and got red in the face.
"How did you get there?" said Jill. She also felt curiously shy.
"The only way you can—by Magic," said Eustace almost in a whisper. "I was with two cousins of mine. We were just—whisked away. They'd been there before."
Now that they were talking in whispers Jill somehow felt it easier to believe. Then suddenly a horrible suspicion came over her and she said (so fiercely that for the moment she looked like a tigress): "If I find you've been pulling my leg I'll never speak to you again; never, never, never."
"I'm not," said Eustace. "I swear I'm not. I swear by—by everything."
(When I was at school one would have said, "I swear by the Bible." But Bibles were not encouraged at Experiment House.)
"All right," said Jill, "I'll believe you."
"And tell nobody?"
"What do you take me for?"
They were very excited as they said this. But when they had said it and Jill looked round and saw the dull autumn sky and heard the drip off the leaves and thought of all the hopelessness of Experiment House (it was a thirteen-week term and there were still eleven weeks to come) she said: "But after all, what's the good? We're not there: we're here. And we jolly well can't get there. Or can we?"
"That's what I've been wondering," said Eustace. "When we came back from That Place, Someone said that the two Pevensie kids (that's my two cousins) could never go there again. It was their third time, you see. I suppose they've had their share. But he never said I couldn't. Surely he would have said so, unless he meant that I was to get back? And I can't help wondering, can we—could we—?" "Do you mean, do something to make it happen?"
Eustace nodded.
"You mean we might draw a circle on the ground—and write in queer letters in it—and stand inside it—and recite charms and spells?"
"Well," said Eustace after he had thought hard for a bit. "I believe that was the sort of thing I was thinking of, though I never did it. But now that it comes to the point, I've an idea that all those circles and things are rather rot. I don't think he'd like them. It would look as if we thought we could make him do things. But really, we can only ask him." "Who is this person you keep on talking about?"
"They call him Aslan in That Place," said Eustace.
"What a curious name!"
"Not half so curious as himself," said Eustace solemnly. "But let's get on. It can't do any harm, just asking. Let's stand side by side, like this. And we'll hold out our arms in front of us with the palms down: like they did in Ramandu's island—"
"Whose island?"
"I'll tell you about that another time. And he might like us to face the east. Let's see, where is the east?"
"I don't know," said Jill.
"It's an extraordinary thing about girls that they never know the points of the compass," said Eustace.
"You don't know either," said Jill indignantly.
"Yes I do, if only you didn't keep on interrupting. I've got it now. That's the east, facing up into the laurels. Now, will you say the words after me?"
"What words?" asked Jill.
"The words I'm going to say, of course," answered Eustace. "Now—"
And he began, "Aslan. Aslan, Aslan!"
"Aslan, Aslan, Aslan," repeated Jill.
"Please let us two go into—"
At that moment a voice from the other side of the gym was heard shouting out, "Pole? Yes. I know where she is. She's blubbing behind the gym. Shall I fetch her out?"
Jill and Eustace gave one glance at each other, dived under the laurels, and began scrambling up the steep, earthy-slope" of the shrubbery at a speed which did them great credit. (Owing to the curious methods of teaching at Experiment House, one did not learn much French or Maths or Latin or things of that sort; but one did learn a lot about getting away quickly and quietly when They were looking for one.) After about a minute's scramble they stopped to listen, and knew by the noises they heard that they were being followed.
"If only the door was open again!" said Scrubb as they went on, and Jill nodded. For at the top of the shrubbery was a high stone wall and in that wall a door by which you could get out on to open moor. This door was nearly always locked. But there had been times when people had found it open; or perhaps there had been only one time. But you may imagine how the memory of even one time kept people hoping, and trying the door; for if it should happen to be unlocked it would be a splendid way of getting outside the school grounds without being seen.
Jill and Eustace, now both very hot and very grubby from going along bent almost double under the laurels, panted up to the wall. And there was the door, shut as usual.
"It's sure to be no good," said Eustace with his hand on the handle; and then, "O-o-oh. By Gum!!" For the handle turned and the door opened.
A moment before, both of them had meant to get through that doorway in double quick time, if by any chance the door was not locked. But when the door actually opened, they both stood stock still. For what they saw was quite different from what they had expected.
They had expected to see the gray, heathery slope of the moor going up and up to join the dull autumn sky. Instead, a blaze of sunshine met them. It poured through the doorway as the light of a June day pours into a garage when you open the door. It made the drops of water on the grass glitter like beads and showed up the dirtiness of Jill's tear-stained face. And the sunlight was coming from what certainly did look like a different world—what they could see of it. They saw smooth turf, smoother and brighter than Jill had ever seen before, and blue sky, and, darting to and fro, things so bright that they might have been jewels or huge butterflies.
Although she had been longing for something like this, Jill felt frightened. She looked at Scrubb's face and saw that he was frightened too.
"Come on, Pole," he said in a breathless voice.
"Can we get back? Is it safe?" asked Jill.
At that moment a voice shouted from behind, a mean, spiteful little voice. "Now then, Pole," it squeaked. "Everyone knows you're there. Down you come." It was the voice of Edith Jackle, not one of Them herself but one of their hangers-on and tale-bearers.
"Quick!" said Scrubb. "Here. Hold hands. We mustn't get separated." And before she quite knew what was happening, he had grabbed her hand and pulled her through the door, out of the school grounds, out of England, out of our whole world into That Place.
The sound of Edith Jackle's voice stopped as suddenly as the voice on the radio when it is switched off. Instantly there was a quite different sound all about them. It came from those bright things overhead, which now turned out to be birds. They were making a riotous noise, but it was much more like music—rather advanced music which you don't quite take in at the first hearing—than birds' songs ever are in our world. Yet, in spite of the singing, there was a sort of background of immense silence. That silence, combined with the freshness of the air, made Jill think they must be on the top of a very high mountain.
Scrubb still had her by the hand and they were walking forward, staring about them on every side. Jill saw that huge trees, rather like cedars but bigger, grew in every direction. But as they did not grow close together, and as there was no undergrowth, this did not prevent one from seeing a long way into the forest to left and right. And as far as Jill's eye could reach, it was all the same— level turf, darting birds with yellow, or dragonfly blue, or rainbow plumage, blue shadows, and emptiness. There was not a breath of wind in that cool, bright air. It was a very lonely forest.
Right ahead there were no trees: only blue sky. They went straight on without speaking till suddenly Jill heard Scrubb say, "Look out!" and felt herself jerked back. They were at the very edge of a cliff.
Jill was one of those lucky people who have a good head for heights. She didn't mind in the least standing on the edge of a precipice. She was rather annoyed with Scrubb for pulling her back—"just as if I was a kid," she said—and she wrenched her hand out of his. When she saw how very white he had turned, she despised him.
"What's the matter?" she said. And to show that she was not afraid, she stood very near the edge indeed; in fact, a good deal nearer than even she liked. Then she looked down.
She now realized that Scrubb had some excuse for looking white, for no cliff in our world is to be compared with this. Imagine yourself at the top of the very highest cliff you know. And imagine yourself looking down to the very bottom. And then imagine that the precipice goes on below that, as far again, ten times as far, twenty times as far. And when you've looked down all that distance imagine little white things that might, at first glance, be mistaken for sheep, but presently you realize that they are clouds—not little wreaths of mist but the enormous white, puffy clouds which are themselves as big as most mountains. And at last, in between those clouds, you get your first glimpse of the real bottom, so far away that you can't make out whether it's field or wood, or land or water: farther below those clouds than you are above them.
Jill stared at it. Then she thought that perhaps, after all, she would step back a foot or so from the edge; but she didn't like to for fear of what Scrubb would think. Then she suddenly decided that she didn't care what he thought, and that she would jolly well get away from that horrible edge and never laugh at anyone for not liking heights again. But when she tried to move, she found she couldn't. Her legs seemed to have turned into putty. Everything was swimming before her eyes.
"What are you doing, Pole? Come back—blithering little idiot!" shouted Scrubb. But his voice seemed to be coming from a long way off. She felt him grabbing at her. But by now she had no control over her own arms and legs. There was a moment's struggling on the cliff edge. Jill was too frightened and dizzy to know quite what she was doing, but two things she remembered as long as she lived (they often came back to her in dreams). One was that she had wrenched herself free of Scrubb's clutches; the other was that, at the same moment, Scrubb himself, with a terrified scream, had lost his balance and gone hurtling to the depths.
Fortunately, she was given no time to think over what she had done. Some huge, brightly colored animal had rushed to the edge of the cliff. It was lying down, leaning over; and (this was the odd thing) blowing. Not roaring or snorting, but just blowing from its wide-opened mouth; blowing out as steadily as a vacuum cleaner sucks in. Jill was lying so close to the creature that she could feel the breath vibrating steadily through its body. She was lying still because she couldn't get up. She was nearly fainting: indeed, she wished she could really faint, but faints don't come for the asking. At last she saw, far away below her, a tiny black speck floating away from the cliff and slightly upward. As it rose, it also got farther away. By the time it was nearly on a level with the cliff-top it was so far off that she lost sight of it. It was obviously moving away from them at a great speed. Jill couldn't help thinking that the creature at her side was blowing it away.
So she turned and looked at the creature. It was a lion.
WITHOUT A GLANCE AT JILL THE LION rose to its feet and gave one last blow. Then, as if satisfied with its work, it turned and stalked slowly away, back into the forest.
"It must be a dream, it must, it must," said Jill to herself. "I'll wake up in a moment." But it wasn't, and she didn't.
"I do wish we'd never come to this dreadful place," said Jill. "I don't believe Scrubb knew any more about it than I do. Or if he did, he had no business to bring me here without warning me what it was like. It's not my fault he fell over that cliff. If he'd left me alone we should both be all right." Then she remembered again the scream that Scrubb had given when he fell, and burst into tears.
Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do. When Jill stopped, she found she was dreadfully thirsty. She had been lying face downward, and now she sat up. The birds had ceased singing and there was perfect silence except for one small, persistent sound, which seemed to come from a good distance away. She listened carefully, and felt almost sure it was the sound of running water.
Jill got up and looked round her very carefully. There was no sign of the lion; but there were so many trees about that it might easily be quite close without her seeing it. For all she knew, there might be several lions. But her thirst was very bad now, and she plucked up her courage to go and look for that running water. She went on tiptoes, stealing cautiously from tree to tree, and stopping to peer round her at every step.
The wood was so still that it was not difficult to decide where the sound was coming from. It grew clearer every moment and, sooner than she expected, she came to an open glade and saw the stream, bright as glass, running across the turf a stone's throw away from her. But although the sight of the water made her feel ten times thirstier than before, she didn't rush forward and drink. She stood as still as if she had been turned into stone, with her mouth wide open. And she had a very good reason; just on this side of the stream lay the lion.
It lay with its head raised and its two fore-paws out in front of it, like the lions in Trafalgar Square. She knew at once that it had seen her, for its eyes looked straight into hers for a moment and then turned away—as if it knew her quite well and didn't think much of her.
"If I run away, it'll be after me in a moment," thought Jill. "And if I go on, I shall run straight into its mouth." Anyway, she couldn't have moved if she had tried, and she couldn't take her eyes off it. How long this lasted, she could not be sure; it seemed like hours. And the thirst became so bad that she almost felt she would not mind being eaten by the lion if only she could be sure of getting a mouthful of water first.
"If you're thirsty, you may drink."
They were the first words she had heard since Scrubb had spoken to her on the edge of the cliff. For a second she stared here and there, wondering who had spoken. Then the voice said again, "If you are thirsty, come and drink," and of course she remembered what Scrubb had said about animals talking in that other world, and realized that it was the lion speaking. Anyway, she had seen its lips move this time, and the voice was not like a man's. It was deeper, wilder, and stronger; a sort of heavy, golden voice. It did not make her any less frightened than she had been before, but it made her frightened in rather a different way.
"Are you not thirsty?" said the Lion.
"I'm dying of thirst," said Jill.
"Then drink," said the Lion.
"May I—could I—would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.
The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
"Will you promise not to—do anything to me, if I do come?" said Jill.
"I make no promise," said the Lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
"Do you eat girls?" she said.
"I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms," said the Lion. It didn't say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.
"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.
"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.
"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming another step nearer. "I suppose I must go and look for another stream then."
"There is no other stream," said the Lion.
It never occurred to Jill to disbelieve the Lion—no one who had seen his stern face could do that—and her mind suddenly made itself up. It was the worst thing she had ever had to do, but she went forward to the stream, knelt down, and began scooping up water in her hand. It was the coldest, most refreshing water she had ever tasted. You didn't need to drink much of it, for it quenched your thirst at once. Before she tasted it she had been intending to make a dash away from the Lion the moment she had finished. Now, she realized that this would be on the whole the most dangerous thing of all. She got up and stood there with her lips still wet from drinking.
"Come here," said the Lion. And she had to. She was almost between its front paws now, looking straight into its face. But she couldn't stand that for long; she dropped her eyes.
"Human Child," said the Lion. "Where is the Boy?"
"He fell over the cliff," said Jill, and added, "Sir." She didn't know what else to call him, and it sounded cheek to call him nothing.
"How did he come to do that, Human Child?"
"He was trying to stop me from falling, Sir."
"Why were you so near the edge, Human Child?"
"I was showing off, Sir."
"That is a very good answer, Human Child. Do so no more. And now" (here for the first time the Lion's face became a little less stern) "the Boy is safe. I have blown him to Narnia. But your task will be the harder because of what you have done." "Please, what task, Sir?" said Jill.
"The task for which I called you and him here out of your own world."
This puzzled Jill very much. "It's mistaking me for someone else," she thought. She didn't dare to tell the Lion this, though she felt things would get into a dreadful muddle unless she did.
"Speak your thought, Human Child," said the Lion.
"I was wondering—I mean—could there be some mistake? Because nobody called me and Scrubb, you know. It was we who asked to come here. Scrubb said we were to call to—to Somebody—it was a name I wouldn't know—and perhaps the Somebody would let us in. And we did, and then we found the door open." "You would not have called to me unless I had been calling to you," said the Lion.
"Then you are Somebody, Sir?" said Jill.
"I am. And now hear your task. Far from here in the land of Narnia there lives an aged king who is sad because he has no prince of his blood to be king after him. He has no heir because his only son was stolen from him many years ago, and no one in Narnia knows where that prince went or whether he is still alive. But he is. I lay on you this command, that you seek this lost prince until either you have found him and brought him to his father's house, or else died in the attempt, or else gone back to your own world." "How, please?" said Jill.
"I will tell you, Child," said the Lion. "These are the signs by which I will guide you in your quest. First; as soon as the Boy Eustace sets foot in Narnia, he will meet an old and dear friend. He must greet that friend at once; if he does, you will both have good help. Second; you must journey out of Narnia to the north till you come to the ruined city of the ancient giants. Third; you shall find a writing on a stone in that ruined city, and you must do what the writing tells you. Fourth; you will know the lost prince (if you find him) by this, that he will be the first person you have met in your travels who will ask you to do something in my name, in the name of Aslan." As the Lion seemed to have finished, Jill thought she should say something. So she said, "Thank you very much. I see."
"Child," said Aslan, in a gentler voice than he had yet used, "perhaps you do not see quite as well as you think. But the first step is to remember. Repeat to me, in order, the four signs." Jill tried, and didn't get them quite right. So the Lion corrected her, and made her repeat them again and again till she could say them perfectly. He was very patient over this, so that, when it was done, Jill plucked up courage to ask: "Please, how am I to get to Narnia?"
"On my breath," said the Lion. "I will blow you into the west of the world as I blew Eustace."
"Shall I catch him in time to tell him the first sign? But I suppose it won't matter. If he sees an old friend, he's sure to go and speak to him, isn't he?"
"You will have no time to spare," said the Lion. "That is why I must send you at once. Come. Walk before me to the edge of the cliff."
Jill remembered very well that if there was no time to spare, that was her own fault. "If I hadn't made such a fool of myself, Scrubb and I would have been going together. And he'd have heard all the instructions as well as me," she thought. So she did as she was told. It was very alarming walking back to the edge of the cliff, especially as the Lion did not walk with her but behind her—making no noise on his soft paws.
But long before she had got anywhere near the edge, the voice behind her said, "Stand still. In a moment I will blow. But, first, remember, remember, remember the signs. Say them to yourself when you wake in the morning and when you lie down at night, and when you wake in the middle of the night. And whatever strange things may happen to you, let nothing turn your mind from following the signs. And secondly, I give you a warning. Here on the mountain I have spoken to you clearly: I will not often do so down in Narnia. Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not confuse your mind. And the signs which you have learned here will not look at all as you expect them to look, when you meet them there. That is why it is so important to know them by heart and pay no attention to appearances. Remember the signs and believe the signs. Nothing else matters. And now, daughter of Eve, farewell—" The voice had been growing softer toward the end of this speech and now it faded away altogether. Jill looked behind her. To her astonishment she saw the cliff already more than a hundred yards behind her, and the Lion himself a speck of bright gold on the edge of it. She had been setting her teeth and clenching her fists for a terrible blast of lion's breath; but the breath had really been so gentle that she had not even noticed the moment at which she left the earth. And now, there was nothing but air for thousands upon thousands of feet below her.
She felt frightened only for a second. For one thing, the world beneath her was so very far away that it seemed to have nothing to do with her. For another, floating on the breath of the Lion was so extremely comfortable. She found she could lie on her back or on her face and twist any way she pleased, just as you can in water (if you've learned to float really well). And because she was moving at the same pace as the breath, there was no wind, and the air seemed beautifully warm. It was not in the least like being in an airplane, because there was no noise and no vibration. If Jill had ever been in a balloon she might have thought it more like that; only better.
When she looked back now she could take in for the first time the real size of the mountain she was leaving. She wondered why a mountain so huge as that was not covered with snow and ice—"but I suppose all that sort of thing is different in this world," thought Jill. Then she looked below her; but she was so high that she couldn't make out whether she was floating over land or sea, nor what speed she was going at.
"By Jove! The signs!" said Jill suddenly. "I'd better repeat them." She was in a panic for a second or two, but she found she could still say them all correctly. "So that's all right," she said, and lay back on the air as if it was a sofa, with a sigh of contentment.
"Well, I do declare," said Jill to herself some hours later, "I've been asleep. Fancy sleeping on air. I wonder if anyone's done it before. I don't suppose they have. Oh bother—Scrubb probably has! On this same journey, a little bit before me. Let's see what it looks like down below." What it looked like was an enormous, very dark blue plain. There were no hills to be seen, but there were biggish white things moving slowly across it. "Those must be clouds," she thought. "But far bigger than the ones we saw from the cliff. I suppose they're bigger because they're nearer. I must be getting lower. Bother this sun." The sun which had been high overhead when she began her journey was now getting into her eyes. This meant that it was getting lower, ahead of her. Scrubb was quite right in saying that Jill (I don't know about girls in general) didn't think much about points of the compass. Otherwise she would have known, when the sun began getting in her eyes, that she was traveling pretty nearly due west.
Staring at the blue plain below her, she presently noticed that there were little dots of brighter, paler color in it here and there. "It's the sea!" thought Jill. "I do believe those are islands." And so they were. She might have felt rather jealous if she had known that some of them were islands which Scrubb had seen from a ship's deck and even landed on; but she didn't know this. Then, later on, she began to see that there were little wrinkles on the blue flatness: little wrinkles which must be quite big ocean waves if you were down among them. And now, all along the horizon there was a thick dark line which grew thicker and darker so quickly that you could see it growing. That was the first sign she had had of the great speed at which she was traveling. And she knew that the thickening line must be land.
Suddenly from her left (for the wind was in the south) a great white cloud came rushing toward her, this time on the same level as herself. And before she knew where she was, she had shot right into the middle of its cold, wet fogginess. That took her breath away, but she was in it only for a moment. She came out blinking in the sunlight and found her clothes wet. (She had on a blazer and sweater and shorts and stockings and pretty thick shoes; it had been a muddy sort of day in England.) She came out lower than she had gone in; and as soon as she did so she noticed something which, I suppose, she ought to have been expecting, but which came as a surprise and a shock. It was Noises. Up till then she had traveled in total silence. Now, for the first time, she heard the noise of waves and the crying of seagulls. And now, too, she smelled the smell of the sea. There was no mistake about her speed now. She saw two waves meet with a smack and a spout of foam go up between them; but she had hardly seen it before it was a hundred yards behind her. The land was getting nearer at a great pace. She could see mountains far inland, and other nearer mountains on her left. She could see bays and headlands, woods and fields, stretches of sandy beach. The sound of waves breaking on the shore was growing louder every second and drowning the other sea noises.
Suddenly the land opened right ahead of her. She was coming to the mouth of a river. She was very low now, only a few feet above the water. A wave-top came against her toe and a great splash of foam spurted up, drenching her nearly to the waist. Now she was losing speed. Instead of being carried up the river she was gliding in to the river bank on her left. There were so many things to notice that she could hardly take them all in; a smooth, green lawn, a ship so brightly colored that it looked like an enormous piece of jewelry, towers and battlements, banners fluttering in the air, a crowd, gay clothes, armor, gold, swords, a sound of music. But this was all jumbled. The first thing that she knew clearly was that she had alighted and was standing under a thicket of trees close by the river side, and there, only a few feet away from her, was Scrubb.
The first thing she thought was how very grubby and untidy and generally unimpressive he looked. And the second was "How wet I am!"
WHAT MADE SCRUBB LOOK SO DINGY (and Jill too, if she could only have seen herself) was the splendor of their surroundings. I had better describe them at once.
Through a cleft in those mountains which Jill had seen far inland as she approached the land, the sunset light was pouring over a level lawn. On the far side of the lawn, its weather-vanes glittering in the light, rose a many-towered and many-turreted castle; the most beautiful castle Jill had ever seen. On the near side was a quay of white marble and, moored to this, the ship: a tall ship with high forecastle and high poop, gilded and crimson, with a great flag at the mast-head, and many banners waving from the decks, and a row of shields, bright as silver, along the bulwarks. The gangplank was laid to her, and at the foot of it, just ready to go on board, stood an old, old man. He wore a rich mantle of scarlet which opened in front to show his silver mail-shirt. There was a thin circlet of gold on his head. His beard, white as wool, fell nearly to his waist. He stood straight enough, leaning one hand on the shoulder of a richly dressed lord who seemed younger than himself: but you could see he was very old and frail. He looked as if a puff of wind could blow him away, and his eyes were watery.
Immediately in front of the King—who had turned round to speak to his people before going on board the ship—there was a little chair on wheels, and, harnessed to it, a little donkey: not much bigger than a big retriever. In this chair sat a fat little dwarf. He was as richly dressed as the King, but because of his fatness and because he was sitting hunched up among cushions, the effect was quite different: it made him look like a shapeless little bundle of fur and silk and velvet. He was as old as the King, but more hale and hearty, with very keen eyes. His bare head, which was bald and extremely large, shone like a gigantic billiard ball in the sunset light.
Farther back, in a half-circle, stood what Jill at once knew to be courtiers. They were well worth looking at for their clothes and armor alone. As far as that went, they looked more like a flower-bed than a crowd. But what really made Jill open her eyes and mouth as wide as they would go, was the people themselves. If "people" was the right word. For only about one in every five was human. The rest were things you never see in our world. Fauns, satyrs, centaurs: Jill could give a name to these, for she had seen pictures of them. Dwarfs too. And there were a lot of animals she knew as well; bears, badgers, moles, leopards, mice, and various birds. But then they were so very different from the animals which one called by the same names in England. Some of them were much bigger—the mice, for instance, stood on their hind legs and were over two feet high. But quite apart from that, they all looked different. You could see by the expression in their faces that they could talk and think just as well as you could.
"Golly!" thought Jill. "So it's true after all." But next moment she added, "I wonder are they friendly?" For she had just noticed, on the outskirts of the crowd, one or two giants and some people whom she couldn't give a name to at all.
At that moment Aslan and the signs rushed back into her mind. She had forgotten all about them for the last half-hour.
"Scrubb!" she whispered, grabbing his arm. "Scrubb, quick! Do you see anyone you know?"
"So you've turned up again, have you?" said Scrubb disagreeably (for which he had some reason). "Well, keep quiet, can't you? I want to listen."
"Don't be a fool," said Jill. "There isn't a moment to lose. Don't you see some old friend here? Because you've got to go and speak to him at once."
"What are you talking about?" said Scrubb.
"It's Aslan—the Lion—says you've got to," said Jill despairingly. "I've seen him."
"Oh, you have, have you? What did he say?"
"He said the very first person you saw in Narnia would be an old friend, and you'd got to speak to him at once."
"Well, there's nobody here I've ever seen in my life before; and anyway, I don't know whether this is Narnia."
"Thought you said you'd been here before," said
"Well, you thought wrong then."
"Well, I like that! You told me—"
"For heaven's sake dry up and let's hear what they're saying."
The King was speaking to the Dwarf, but Jill couldn't hear what he said. And, as far as she could make out, the Dwarf made no answer, though he nodded and wagged his head a great deal. Then the King raised his voice and addressed the whole court: but his voice was so old and cracked that she could understand very little of his speech—especially since it was all about people and places she had never heard of. When the speech was over, the King stooped down and kissed the Dwarf on both cheeks, straightened himself, raised his right hand as if in blessing, and went, slowly and with feeble steps, up the gangway and on board the ship. The courtiers appeared to be greatly moved by his departure. Handkerchiefs were got out, sounds of sobbing were heard in every direction. The gangway was cast off, trumpets sounded from the poop, and the ship moved away from the quay. (It was being towed by a rowing-boat, but Jill didn't see that.) "Now—" said Scrubb, but he didn't get any further because at that very moment a large white object—Jill thought for a second that it was a kite—came gliding through the air and alighted at his feet. It was a white owl, but so big that it stood as high as a good-sized dwarf.
It blinked and peered as if it were shortsighted, and put its head a little to one side, and said in a soft, hooting kind of voice:
"Tu-whoo, tu-whoo! Who are you two?"
"My name's Scrubb, and this is Pole," said Eustace. "Would you mind telling us where we are?"
"In the land of Narnia, at the King's castle of Cair Paravel."
"Is that the King who's just taken ship?"
"Too true, too true," said the Owl sadly, shaking its big head. "But who are you? There's something magic about you two. I saw you arrive: you flew. Everyone else was so busy seeing the King off that nobody knew. Except me. I happened to notice you, you flew." "We were sent here by Aslan," said Eustace in a low voice.
"Tu-whoo, tu-whoo!" said the Owl, ruffling out its feathers. "This is almost too much for me, so early in the evening. I'm not quite myself till the sun's down."
"And we've been sent to find the lost Prince," said Jill, who had been anxiously waiting to get into the conversation.
"It's the first I've heard about it," said Eustace. "What prince?"
"You had better come and speak to the Lord Regent at once," it said. "That's him, over there in the donkey carriage; Trumpkin the Dwarf." The bird turned and began leading the way, muttering to itself, "Whoo! Tu-whoo! What a to-do! I can't think clearly yet. It's too early." "What is the King's name?" asked Eustace.
"Caspian the Tenth," said the Owl. And Jill wondered why Scrubb had suddenly pulled up short in his walk and turned an extraordinary color. She thought she had never seen him look so sick about anything. But before she had time to ask any questions they had reached the dwarf, who was just gathering up the reins of his donkey and preparing to drive back to the castle. The crowd of courtiers had broken up and were going in the same direction, by ones and twos and little knots, like people coming away from watching a game or a race.
"Tu-whoo! Ahem! Lord Regent," said the Owl, stooping down a little and holding its beak near the Dwarf's ear.
"Heh? What's that?" said the Dwarf.
"Two strangers, my lord," said the Owl.
"Rangers! What d'ye mean?" said the Dwarf. "I see two uncommonly grubby man-cubs. What do they want?"
"My name's Jill," said Jill, pressing forward. She was very eager to explain the important business on which they had come.
"The girl's called Jill," said the Owl, as loud as it could.
"What's that?" said the Dwarf. "The girls are all killed! I don't believe a word of it. What girls? Who killed 'em?"
"Only one girl, my lord," said the Owl. "Her name is Jill."
"Speak up, speak up," said the Dwarf. "Don't stand there buzzing and twittering in my ear. Who's been killed?"
"Nobody's been killed," hooted the Owl.
"All right, all right. You needn't shout. I'm not so deaf as all that. What do you mean by coming here to tell me that nobody's been killed? Why should anyone have been killed?" "Better tell him I'm Eustace," said Scrubb.
"The boy's Eustace, my lord," hooted the Owl as loud as it could.
"Useless?" said the Dwarf irritably. "I dare say he is. Is that any reason for bringing him to court? Hey?"
"Not useless," said the Owl. "EUSTACE."
"Used to it, is he? I don't know what you're talking about, I'm sure. I tell you what it is, Master Glimfeather; when I was a young Dwarf there used to be talking beasts and birds in this country who really could talk. There wasn't all this mumbling and muttering and whispering. It wouldn't have been tolerated for a moment. Not for a moment, Sir. Urnus, my trumpet please—" A little Faun who had been standing quietly beside the Dwarf's elbow all this time now handed him a silver ear-trumpet. It was made like the musical instrument called a serpent, so that the tube curled right round the Dwarf's neck. While he was getting it settled the Owl, Glimfeather, suddenly said to the children in a whisper: "My brain's a bit clearer now. Don't say anything about the lost Prince. I'll explain later. It wouldn't do, wouldn't do, Tu-Whoo! Oh what a todo!"
"Now," said the Dwarf, "if you have anything sensible to say, Master Glimfeather, try and say it. Take a deep breath and don't attempt to speak too quickly."
With help from the children, and in spite of a fit of coughing on the part of the Dwarf, Glimfeather explained that the strangers had been sent by Aslan to visit the court of Narnia. The Dwarf glanced quickly up at them with a new expression in his eyes.
"Sent by the Lion Himself, hey?" he said. "And from—m'm—from that other Place—beyond the world's end, hey?"
"Yes, my lord," bawled Eustace into the trumpet.
"Son of Adam and Daughter of Eve, hey?" said the Dwarf. But people at Experiment House haven't heard of Adam and Eve, so Jill and Eustace couldn't answer this. But the Dwarf didn't seem to notice.
"Well, my dears," he said, taking first one and then the other by the hand and bowing his head a little. "You are very heartily welcome. If the good King, my poor Master, had not this very hour set sail for Seven Isles, he would have been glad of your coming. It would have brought back his youth to him for a moment—for a moment. And now, it is high time for supper. You shall tell me your business in full council tomorrow morning. Master Glimfeather, see that bedchambers and suitable clothes and all else are provided for these guests in the most honorable fashion. And—Glimfeather—in your ear—" Here the Dwarf put his mouth close to the Owl's head and, no doubt, intended to whisper: but, like other deaf people, he wasn't a very good judge of his own voice, and both children heard him say, "See that they're properly washed." After that, the Dwarf touched up his donkey and it set off toward the castle at something between a trot and a waddle (it was a very fat little beast), while the Faun, the Owl, and the children followed at a rather slower pace. The sun had set and the air was growing cool.
They went across the lawn and then through an orchard and so to the North Gate of Cair Paravel, which stood wide open. Inside, they found a grassy courtyard. Lights were already showing from the windows of the great hall on their right and from a more complicated mass of buildings straight ahead. Into these the Owl led them, and there a most delightful person was called to look after Jill. She was not much taller than Jill herself, and a good deal slenderer, but obviously full grown, graceful as a willow, and her hair was willowy too, and there seemed to be moss in it. She brought Jill to a round room in one of the turrets, where there was a little bath sunk in the floor and a fire of sweet-smelling woods burning on the flat hearth and a lamp hanging by a silver chain from the vaulted roof. The window looked west into the strange land of Narnia, and Jill saw the red remains of the sunset still glowing behind distant mountains. It made her long for more adventures and feel sure that this was only the beginning.
When she had had her bath, and brushed her hair, and put on the clothes that had been laid out for her—they were the kind that not only felt nice, but looked nice and smelled nice and made nice sounds when you moved as well—she would have gone back to gaze out of that exciting window, but she was interrupted by a bang on the door.
"Come in," said Jill. And in came Scrubb, also bathed and splendidly dressed in Narnian clothes. But his face didn't look as if he were enjoying it.
"Oh, here you are at last," he said crossly, flinging himself into a chair. "I've been trying to find you for ever so long."
"Well, now you have," said Jill. "I say, Scrubb, isn't it all simply too exciting and scrumptious for words." She had forgotten all about the signs and the lost Prince for the moment.
"Oh! That's what you think, is it?" said Scrubb: and then, after a pause, "I wish to goodness we'd never come."
"Why on earth?"
"I can't bear it," said Scrubb. "Seeing the King—Caspian—a doddering old man like that. It's—it's frightful."
"Why, what harm does it do you?"
"Oh, you don't understand. Now that I come to think of it, you couldn't. I didn't tell you that this world has a different time from ours."
"How do you mean?"
"The time you spend here doesn't take up any of our time. Do you see? I mean, however long we spend here, we shall still get back to Experiment House at the moment we left it—" "That won't be much fun—"
"Oh, dry up! Don't keep interrupting. And when you're back in England—in our world—you can't tell how time is going here. It might be any number of years in Narnia while we're having one year at home. The Pevensies explained it all to me, but, like a fool, I forgot about it. And now apparently it's been about seventy years—Narnian years—since I was here last. Do you see now? And I come back and find Caspian an old, old man." "Then the King was an old friend of yours!" said Jill. A horrid thought had struck her.
"I should jolly well think he was," said Scrubb miserably. "About as good a friend as a chap could have. And last time he was only a few years older than me. And to see that old man with a white beard, and to remember Caspian as he was the morning we captured the Lone Islands, or in the fight with the Sea Serpent—oh, it's frightful. It's worse than coming back and finding him dead." "Oh, shut up," said Jill impatiently. "It's far worse than you think. We've muffed the first Sign." Of course Scrubb did not understand this. Then Jill told him about her conversation with Aslan and the four signs and the task of finding the lost prince which had been laid upon them.
"So you see," she wound up, "you did see an old friend, just as Aslan said, and you ought to have gone and spoken to him at once. And now you haven't, and everything is going wrong from the very beginning." "But how was I to know?" said Scrubb.
"If you'd only listened to me when I tried to tell you, we'd be all right," said Jill.
"Yes, and if you hadn't played the fool on the edge of that cliff and jolly nearly murdered me—all right, I said murder, and I'll say it again as often as I like, so keep your hair on—we'd have come together and both known what to do." "I suppose he was the very first person you saw?" said Jill. "You must have been here hours before me. Are you sure you didn't see anyone else first?"
"I was only here about a minute before you," said Scrubb. "He must have blown you quicker than me. Making up for lost time: the time you lost."
"Don't be a perfect beast, Scrubb," said Jill. "Hallo! What's that?"
It was the castle bell ringing for supper, and thus what looked like turning into a first-rate quarrel was happily cut short. Both had a good appetite by this time.
Supper in the great hall of the castle was the most splendid thing either of them had ever seen; for though Eustace had been in that world before, he had spent his whole visit at sea and knew nothing of the glory and courtesy of the Narnians at home in their own land. The banners hung from the roof, and each course came in with trumpeters and kettledrums. There were soups that would make your mouth water to think of, and the lovely fishes called pavenders, and venison and peacock and pies, and ices and jellies and fruit and nuts, and all manner of wines and fruit drinks. Even Eustace cheered up and admitted that it was "something like." And when all the serious eating and drinking was over, a blind poet came forward and struck up the grand old tale of Prince Cor and Aravis and the horse Bree, which is called The Horse and His Boy and tells of an adventure that happened in Narnia and Calormen and the lands between, in the Golden Age when Peter was High King in Cair Paravel. (I haven't time to tell it now, though it is well worth hearing.) When they were dragging themselves upstairs to bed, yawning their heads off, Jill said, "I bet we sleep well tonight"; for it had been a full day. Which just shows how little anyone knows what is going to happen to them next.
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The core team that makes SHACK happen have a very diverse skill set. We cover all aspects of design, build, music and logistics to make your event as special as it can be.
We also have a reliable and established relationship with suppliers, DJ's, technicians and installation artists.
we can tailor a package to suit any of your artistic, musical or event requirements.
Having worked as a film maker, DJ and composer for 25 years, SHACK was a natural blending of all these skills for Arlen. Equally happy building the SHACK as playing countless DJ sets inside it, he will not rest until everything is perfect and working as it should be. Having designed and built the SHACK and everything inside it from the ground up, you and your event are in good hands!
Matt and Bob have run special effects and bespoke lighting compony, Flat -E, for around 10 years now. They both have a wealth of experience in projection mapping, club visuals, and event installation projects. There is no limit to the lighting and visual requirements for your event, just what you can imagine! From interactive video pianos to 70 foot progammable LED walls, Flat -E can bring your event to a show stopping climax.
Andy owns and runs our bespoke Yamaha and DB technologies sound system. Having run many successful club nights here and abroad, Andy has 25 years of experience in DJ'ing and club logistics. A deep love for Drum and Bass doesn't stop Andy delving into multiple genres of music, creating an amazing vibe and atmosphere with the language of music and cutting edge sound equipment.
Splitting his time between music production and DJ'ing, Nik brings a unique sound and selection to SHACK events. Always on the hunt for new and interesting music, to off set his incredible selection of certified party bangers!
Working across many event and hospitality areas, Jon will help refine and action any unique requests for your SHACK event. You say what you want and he'll make it happen!
He's also known for dropping nasty bass lines.