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TRAVELS WITHOUT THE SUN:
"WHO's there?" shouted the three travellers.
"I am the Warden of the Marches of Underland, and with me stand a hundred
Earthmen in arms," came the reply. "Tell me quickly who you are and what is
your errand in the Deep Realm?"
"We fell down by accident," said Puddleglum, truthfully enough.
"Many fall down, and few return to the sunlit lands," said the voice. "Make
ready now to come with me to the Queen of the Deep Realm."
"What does she want with us?" asked Scrubb cautiously.
"I do not know," said the voice. "Her will is not to be questioned but
obeyed."
While he said these words there was a noise like a soft explosion and
immediately a cold light, grey with a little blue in it, flooded the
cavern. All hope that the speaker had been idly boasting when he spoke of
his hundred armed followers died at once. Jill found herself blinking and
staring at a dense crowd. They were of all sizes, from little gnomes barely
a foot high to stately figures taller than men. All carried three-pronged
spears in their hands, and all were dreadfully pale, and all stood as still
as statues. Apart from that, they were very different; some had tails and
others not, some wore great beards and others had very round, smooth faces,
big as pumpkins. There were long, pointed noses, and long, soft noses like
small trunks, and great blobby noses. Several had single horns in the
middle of their foreheads. But in one respect they were all alike: every
face in the whole hundred was as sad as a face could be. They were so sad
that, after the first glance, Jill almost forgot to be afraid of them. She
felt she would like to cheer them up.
"Well!" said Puddleglum, rubbing his hands. "This is just what I needed. If
these chaps don't teach me to take a serious view of life, I don't know
what will. Look at that fellow with the walrus moustache - or that one with
the -"
"Get up," said the leader of the Earthmen.
There was nothing else to be done. The three travellers scrambled to their
feet and joined hands. One wanted the touch of a friend's hand at a moment
like that. And the Earthmen came all round them, padding on large, soft
feet, on which some had ten toes, some twelve, and others none.
"March," said the Warden: and march they did.
The cold light came from a large ball on the top of a long pole, and the
tallest of the gnomes carried this at the head of the procession. By its
cheerless rays they could see that they were in a natural cavern; the walls
and roof were knobbed, twisted, and gashed into a thousand fantastic
shapes, and the stony floor sloped downward as they proceeded. It was worse
for Jill than for the others, because she hated dark, underground places.
And when, as they went on, the cave got lower and narrower, and when, at
last, the light-bearer stood aside, and the gnomes, one by one, stooped
down (all except the very smallest ones) and stepped into a little dark
crack and disappeared, she felt she could bear it no longer.
"I can't go in there, I can't! I can't! I won't," she panted. The Earthmen
said nothing but they all lowered their spears and pointed them at her.
"Steady, Pole," said Puddleglum. "Those big fellows wouldn't be crawling in
there if it didn't get wider later on. And there's one thing about this
underground work, we shan't get any rain."
"Oh, you don't understand. I can't," wailed Jill.
"Think how 1 felt on that cliff, Pole," said Scrubb. "You go first,
Puddleglum, and I'll come after her."
"That's right," said the Marsh-wiggle, getting down on his hands and knees.
"You keep a grip of my heels, Pole, and Scrubb will hold on to yours. Then
we'll all be comfortable."
"Comfortable!" said Jill. But she got down and they crawled in on their
elbows. It was a nasty place. You had to go flat on your face for what
seemed like half an hour, though it may really have been only five minutes.
It was hot. Jill felt she was being smothered. But at last a dim light
showed ahead, the tunnel grew wider and higher, and they came out, hot,
dirty, and shaken, into a cave so large that it scarcely seemed like a cave
at all.
It was full of a dim, drowsy radiance, so that here they had no need of the
Earthmen's strange lantern. The floor was soft with some kind of moss and
out of this grew many strange shapes, branched and tall like trees, but
flabby like mushrooms. They stood too far apart to make a forest; it was
more like a park. The light (a greenish grey) seemed to come both from them
and from the moss, and it was not strong enough to reach the roof of the
cave, which must have been a long way overhead. Across the mild, soft,
sleepy place they were now made to march. It was very sad, but with a quiet
sort of sadness like soft music.
Here they passed dozens of strange animals lying on the turf, either dead
or asleep, Jill could not tell which. These were mostly of a dragonish or
bat-like sort; Puddleglum did not know what any of them were.
"Do they grow here?" Scrubb asked the Warden. He seemed very surprised at
being spoken to, but replied, "No. They are all beasts that have found
their way down by chasms and caves, out of Overland into the Deep Realm.
Many come down, and few return to the sunlit lands. It is said that they
will all wake at the end of the world."
His mouth shut like a box when he had said this, and in the great silence
of that cave the children felt that they would not dare to speak again. The
bare feet of the gnomes, padding on the deep moss, made no sound. There was
no wind, there were no birds, there was no sound of water. There was no
sound of breathing from the strange beasts.
When they had walked for several miles, they came to a wall of rock, and in
it a low archway leading into another cavern. It was not, however, so bad
as the last entrance and Jill could go through it without bending her head.
It brought them into a smaller cave, long and narrow, about the shape and
size of a cathedral. And here, filling almost the whole length of it, lay
an enormous man fast asleep. He was far bigger than any of the giants, and
his face was not like a giant's, but noble and beautiful. His breast rose
and fell gently under the snowy beard which covered him to the waist. A
pure, silver light (no one saw where it came from) rested upon him.
"Who's that?" asked Puddleglum. And it was so long since anyone had spoken,
that Jill wondered how he had the nerve.
"That is old Father Time, who once was a King in Overland," said the
Warden. "And now he has sunk down into the Deep Realm and lies dreaming of
all the things that are done in the upper world. Many sink down, and few
return to the sunlit lands. They say he will wake at the end of the world."
And out of that cave they passed into another, and then into another and
another, and so on till Jill lost count, but always they were going
downhill and each cave was lower than the last, till the very thought of
the weight and depth of earth above you was suffocating. At last they came
to a place where the Warden commanded his cheerless lantern to be lit
again. Then they passed into a cave so wide and dark that they could see
nothing of it except that right in front of them a strip of pale sand ran
down into still water. And there, beside a little jetty, lay a ship without
mast or sail but with many oars. They were made to go on board her and led
forward to the bows where there was a clear space in front of the rowers'
benches and a seat running round inside the bulwarks.
"One thing I'd like to know," said Puddleglum, "is whether anyone from our
world - from up-a-top, I mean has ever done this trip before?"
"Many have taken ship at the pale beaches," replied the Warden, "and-"
"Yes, I know," interrupted Puddleglum. "And few return to the sunlit lands.
You needn't say it again. You are a chap of one idea, aren't you?"
The children huddled close together on each side of Puddleglum. They had
thought him a wet blanket while they were still above ground, but down here
he seemed the only comforting thing they had. Then the pale lantern was
hung up amidships, the Earthmen sat to the oars, and the ship began to
move. The lantern cast its light only a very short way. Looking ahead, they
could see nothing but smooth, dark water, fading into absolute blackness.
"Oh, whatever will become of us?" said Jill despairingly.
"Now don't you let your spirits down, Pole," said the Marsh-wiggle.
"There's one thing you've got to remember. We're back on the right lines.
We were to go under the Ruined City, and we are under it. We're following
the instructions again."
Presently they were given food - flat, flabby cakes of some sort which had
hardly any taste. And after that, they gradually fell asleep. But when they
woke, everything was just the same; the gnomes still rowing, the ship still
gliding on, still dead blackness ahead. How often they woke and slept and
ate and slept again, none of them could ever remember. And the worst thing
about it was that you began to feel as if you had always lived on that
ship, in that darkness, and to wonder whether sun and blue skies and wind
and birds had not been only a dream.
They had almost given up hoping or being afraid about anything when at last
they saw lights ahead: dreary lights, like that of their own lantern. Then,
quite suddenly, one of these lights came close and they saw that they were
passing another ship. After that they met several ships. Then, staring till
their eyes hurt, they saw that some of the lights ahead were shining on
what looked like wharfs, walls, towers, and moving crowds. But still there
was hardly any noise.
"By Jove," said Scrubb. "A city!" and soon they all saw that he was right.
But it was a queer city. The lights were so few and far apart that they
would hardly have done for scattered cottages in our world. But the little
bits of the place which you could see by the lights were like glimpses of a
great seaport. You could make out in one place a whole crowd of ships
loading or unloading; in another, bales of stuff and warehouses; in a
third, walls and pillars that suggested great palaces or temples; and
always, wherever the light fell, endless crowds - hundreds of Earthmen,
jostling one another as they padded softly about their business in narrow
streets, broad squares, or up great flights of steps. Their continued
movement made a sort of soft, murmuring noise as the ship drew nearer and
nearer; but there was not a song or a shout or a bell or the rattle of a
wheel anywhere. The City was as quiet, and nearly as dark, as the inside of
an ant-hill.
At last their ship was brought alongside a quay and made fast. The three
travellers were taken ashore and marched up into the City. Crowds of
Earthmen, no two alike, rubbed shoulders with them in the crowded streets,
and the sad light fell on many sad and grotesque faces. But no one showed
any interest in the strangers. Every gnome seemed to be as busy as it was
sad, though Jill never found what they were so busy about. But the endless
moving, shoving, hurrying, and the soft pad-pad-pad went on.
At last they came to what appeared to be a great castle, though few of the
windows in it were lighted. Here they were taken in and made to cross a
courtyard, and to climb many staircases. This brought them in the end to a
great murkily lit room. But in one corner of it - oh joy! - there was an
archway filled with a quite different sort of light; the honest, yellowish,
warm light of such a lamp as humans use. What showed by this light inside
the archway was the foot of a staircase which wound upward between walls of
stone. The light seemed to come from the top. Two Earthmen stood one on
each side of the arch like sentries, or footmen.
The Warden went up to these two, and said, as if it were a password:
"Many sink down to the Underworld."
"And few return to the sunlit lands," they answered, as if it were the
countersign. Then all three put their heads together and talked. At last
one of the two gnomes-in-waiting said, "I tell you the Queen's grace is
gone from hence on her great affair. We had best keep these top dwellers in
strait prison till her homecoming. Few return to the sunlit lands."
At that moment the conversation was interrupted by what seemed to Jill the
most delightful noise in the world. It came from above, from the top of the
staircase; and it was a clear, ringing, perfectly human voice, the voice of
a young man.
"What coil are you keeping down there, Mullugutherum?" it shouted.
"Overworlders, ha! Bring them up to me, and that presently."
"Please it your Highness to remember," began Mullugutherum, but the voice
cut him short.
"It pleases my Highness principally to be obeyed, old mutterer. Bring them
up," it called.
Mullugutherum shook his head, motioned to the travellers to follow and
began going up the staircase. At every step the light increased. There were
rich tapestries hanging on the walls. The lamplight shone golden through
thin curtains at the staircase-head. The Earthmen parted the curtains and
stood aside. The three passed in. They were in a beautiful room, richly
tapestried, with a bright fire on a clean hearth, and red wine and cut
glass sparkling on the table. A young man with fair hair rose to greet
them. He was handsome and looked both bold and kind, though there was
something about his face that didn't seem quite right. He was dressed in
black and altogether looked a little bit like Hamlet.
"Welcome, Overworlders," he cried. "But stay a moment! I cry you mercy! I
have seen you two fair children, and this, your strange governor, before.
Was it not you three that met me by the bridge on the borders of Ettinsmoor
when I rode there by my Lady's side?"
"Oh . . . you were the black knight who never spoke?" exclaimed Jill.
"And was that lady the Queen of Underland?" asked Puddleglum, in no very
friendly voice. And Scrubb, who was thinking the same, burst out, "Because
if it was, I think she was jolly mean to send us off to a castle of giants
who intended to eat us. What harm had we ever done her, I should like to
know?"
"How?" said the Black Knight with a frown. "If you were not so young a
warrior, Boy, you and I must have fought to the death on this quarrel. I
can hear no words against my Lady's honour. But of this you may be assured,
that whatever she said to you, she said of a good intent. You do not know
her. She is a nosegay of all virtues, as truth, mercy, constancy,
gentleness, courage, and the rest. I say what I know. Her kindness to me
alone, who can in no way reward her, would make an admirable history. But
you shall know and love her hereafter. Meanwhile, what is your errand in
the Deep Lands?"
And before Puddleglum could stop her, Jill blurted out, "Please we are
trying to find Prince Rilian of Narnia." And then she realized what a
frightful risk she had taken; these people might be enemies. But the Knight
showed no interest.
"Rilian? Narnia?" he said carelessly. "Narnia? What land is that? I have
never heard the name. It must be a thousand leagues from those parts of the
Overworld that I know. But it was a strange fantasy that brought you
seeking this - how do you call him? - Billian? Trillian? in my Lady's
realm. Indeed, to my certain knowledge, there is no such man here." He
laughed very loudly at this, and Jill thought to herself, "I wonder is that
what's wrong with his face? Is he a bit silly?"
"We had been told to look for a message on the stones of the City Ruinous,"
said Scrubb. "And we saw the words UNDER ME."
The Knight laughed even more heartily than before. "You were the more
deceived," he said. "Those words meant nothing to your purpose. Had you but
asked my Lady, she could have given you better counsel. For those words are
all that is left of a longer script, which in ancient times, as she well
remembers, expressed this verse:
Though under Earth and throneless now I be, Yet, while I lived, all Earth
was under me.
From which it is plain that some great king of the ancient giants, who lies
buried there, caused this boast to be cut in the stone over his sepulchre;
though the breaking up of some stones, and the carrying away of others for
new buildings, and the filling up of the cuts with rubble, has left only
two words that can still be read. Is it not the merriest jest in the world
that you should have thought they were written to you?"
This was like cold water down the back to Scrubb and
Jill; for it seemed to them very likely that the words had nothing to do
with their quest at all, and that they had been taken in by a mere
accident.
"Don't you mind him," said Puddleglum. "There are no accidents. Our guide
is Aslan; and he was there when the giant King caused the letters to be
cut, and he knew already all things that would come of them; including
this."
"This guide of yours must be a long liver, friend," said the Knight with
another of his laughs.
Jill began to find them a little irritating.
"And it seems to me, Sir," answered Puddleglum, "that this Lady of yours
must be a long liver too, if she remembers the verse as it was when they
first cut it."
"Very shrewd, Frog-face," said the Knight, clapping Puddleglum on the
shoulder and laughing again. "And you have hit the truth. She is of divine
race, and knows neither age nor death. I am the more thankful to her for
all her infinite bounty to such a poor mortal wretch as I. For you must
know, Sirs, I am a man under most strange afflictions, and none but the
Queen's grace would have had patience with me. Patience, said I? But it
goes far beyond that. She has promised me a great kingdom in Overland, and,
when I am king, her own most gracious hand in marriage. But the tale is too
long for you to hear fasting and standing. Hi there, some of you! Bring
wine and Updwellers' food for my guests. Please you, be seated, gentlemen.
Little maiden, sit in this chair. You shall hear it all."
