The People That Lived In Hiding
藏身于荒野之间的人们
Now began the happiest times that Caspian had ever known. On a fine summer morning when the dew lay on the grass he set off with the Badger and the two Dwarfs， up through the forest to a high saddle in the mountains and down on to their sunny southern slopes where one looked across the green wolds of Archenland.
“We will go first to the Three Bulgy Bears，” said Trumpkin.
They came in a glade to an old hollow oak tree covered with moss， and Trufflehunter tapped with his paw three times on the trunk and there was no answer. Then he tapped again and a woolly sort of voice from inside said， “Go away. It’s not time to get up yet.” But when he tapped the third time there was a noise like a small earthquake from inside and a sort of door opened and out came three brown bears， very bulgy indeed and blinking their little eyes. And when everything had been explained to them （which took a long time because they were so sleepy） they said， just as Trufflehunter had said， that a son of Adam ought to be King of Narnia and all kissed Caspian-very wet， snuffly kisses they were-and offered him some honey. Caspian did not really want honey， without bread， at that time in the morning， but he thought it polite to accept. It took him a long time afterwards to get unsticky.
After that they went on till they came among tall beech trees and Trufflehunter called out， “Pattertwig！ Pattertwig！ Pattertwig！” and almost at once， bounding down from branch to branch till he was just above their heads， came the most magnificent red squirrel that Caspian had ever seen. He was far bigger than the ordinary dumb squirrels which he had sometimes seen in the castle gardens； indeed he was nearly the size of a terrier and the moment you looked in his face you saw that he could talk. Indeed the difficulty was to get him to stop talking， for， like all squirrels， he was a chatterer. He welcomed Caspian at once and asked if he would like a nut and Caspian said thanks， he would. But as Pattertwig went bounding away to fetch it， Trufflehunter whispered in Caspian‘s ear， “Don’t look. Look the other way. It‘s very bad manners among squirrels to watch anyone going to his store or to look as if you wanted to know where it was.” Then Pattertwig came back with the nut and Caspian ate it and after that Pattertwig asked if he could take any messages to other friends. “For I can go nearly everywhere without setting foot to ground，” he said. Trufflehunter and the Dwarfs thought this a very good idea and gave Pattertwig messages to all sorts of people with queer names telling them all to come to a feast and council on Dancing Lawn at midnight three nights ahead. “And you’d better tell the three Bulgies too，” added Trumpkin. “We forgot to mention it to them.”
Their next visit was to the Seven Brothers of Shuddering Wood. Trumpkin led the way back to the saddle and then down eastward on the northern slope of the mountains till they came to a very solemn place among rocks and fir trees. They went very quietly and presently Caspian could feel the ground shake under his feet as if someone were hammering down below. Trumpkin went to a flat stone about the size of the top of a water-butt， and stamped on it with his foot. After along pause it was moved away by someone or something underneath，
and there was a dark， round hole with a good deal of heat and steam coming out of it and in the middle of the hole the head of a Dwarf very like Trumpkin himself. There was a long talk here and the dwarf seemed more suspicious than the Squirrel or the Bulgy Bears had been，but in the end the whole party was invited to come down. Caspian found himself descending a dark stairway into the earth， but when he came to the bottom he saw firelight. It was the light of a furnace. The whole place was a smithy. A subterranean stream ran past on one side of it. Two Dwarfs were at the bellows， another was holding a piece of red-hot metal on the anvil with a pair of tongs， a fourth was hammering it， and two， wiping their horny little hands on a greasy
cloth， were coming forward to meet the visitors. It took some time to satisfy them that Caspian was a friend and not an enemy， but when they did， they all cried， “Long live the King，” and their gifts were noble-mail shirts and helmets and swords for Caspian and Trumpkin and Nikabrik. The Badger could have had the same if he had liked， but he said he was a beast， he was， and if his claws and teeth could not keep his skin whole， it wasn‘t worth keeping. The workmanship ofthe arms was far finer than any Caspian had ever seen， and he gladly accepted the Dwarf-made sword instead of his own， which looked， in comparison， as feeble as a toy and as clumsy as a stick. The seven brothers （who were all Red Dwarfs） promised to come to the feast at Dancing Lawn.
A little farther on， in a dry， rocky ravine they reached the cave of five Black Dwarfs. They looked suspiciously at Caspian， but in the end the eldest of them said， “If he is against Miraz， we’ll have him for King.” And the next oldest said， “Shall we go farther up for you， up to the crags？ There‘s an Ogre or two and a Hag that we could introduce you to， up there.”
“Certainly not，” said Caspian.
“I should think not， indeed，” said Trufflehunter. “We want none of that sort on our side.” Nikabrik disagreed with this， but Trumpkin and the Badger overruled him. It gave Caspian a shock to realize that the horrible creatures out of the old stories， as well as the nice ones， had some descendants in Narnia still.
“We should not have Aslan for friend if we brought in that rabble，” said Trufflehunter as they came away from the cave of the Black Dwarfs.
“Oh， Aslan！” said Trumpkin， cheerily but contemptuously. “What matters much more is that you wouldn’t have me.”
“Do you believe in Aslan？” said Caspian to Nikabrik.
“I‘ll believe in anyone or anything，” said Nikabrik， “that’ll batter these cursed Telmarine barbarians to pieces or drive them out of Narnia. Anyone or anything， Aslan or the White Witch， do you understand？”
“Silence， silence，” said Trufflehunter. “You do not know what you are saying. She was a worse enemy than Miraz and all his race.”
“Not to Dwarfs， she wasn‘t，” said Nikabrik.
