The Disappearance Of Jill
吉尔失踪了
The patch of light did not show up anything down in the darkness where they were standing. The others could only hear， not see， Jill‘s efforts to get on to the Marsh-wiggle’s back. That is， they heard him saying， “You needn‘t put your finger in my eye，” and， “Nor your foot in my mouth either，” and， “That’s more like it，” and， “Now， I‘ll hold on to your legs. That’ll leave your arms free to steady yourself against the earth.”
Then they looked up and soon they saw the black shape of Jill‘s head against the patch of light.
“Well？” they all shouted up anxiously.
“It’s a hole，” called Jill‘s voice. “I could get through it if I was a little bit higher.”
“What do you see through it？” asked Eustace.
“Nothing much yet，” said Jill. “I say， Puddleglum， let go my legs so that I can stand on your shoulders instead of sitting on them. I can steady myself all right against the edge.”
They could hear her moving and then much more of her came into sight against the greyness of the opening； in fact all of her down to the waist.
“I say-” began Jill， but suddenly broke off with a cry： not a sharp cry. It sounded more as if her mouth had been muffled up or hadsomething pushed into it. After that she found her voice and seemed to be shouting out as loud as she could， but they couldn’t hear the words. Two things then happened at the same moment. The patch of light was completely blocked up for a second or so； and they heard both a scuffling， struggling sound and the voice of the Marsh-wiggle gasping； “Quick！ Help！ Hold on to her legs. Someone‘s pulling her. There！ No， here. Too late！”
The opening， and the cold light which filled it， were now perfectly clear again. Jill had vanished.
“Jill！ Jill！” they shouted frantically， but there was no answer. “Why the dickens couldn’t you have held her feet？” said Eustace.
“I don‘t know， Scrubb，” groaned Puddleglum. “Born to be a misfit， I shouldn’t wonder. Fated. Fated to be Pole‘s death， just as I was fated to eat Talking Stag at Harfang. Not that it isn’t my own fault as well， of course.”
“This is the greatest shame and sorrow that could have fallen on us，” said the Prince. “We have sent a brave lady into the hands of enemies and stayed behind in safety.”
“Don‘t paint it too black， Sir，” said Puddleglum. “We’re not very safe except for death by starvation in this hole.”
“I wonder am I small enough to get through where Jill did？” said Eustace.
What had really happened to Jill was this. As soon as she got her head out of the hole she found that she was looking down as if from an upstairs window， not up as if through a trap-door. She had been so long in the dark that her eyes couldn‘t at first take in what they were seeing： except that she was not looking at the daylit， sunny world which she so wanted to see. The air seemed to be deadly cold， and the light was pale and blue. There was also a good deal of noise goingon and a lot of white objects flying about in the air. It was at that moment that she had shouted down to Puddleglum to let her stand up on his shoulders.
When she had done this， she could see and hear a good deal better. The noises she had been hearing turned out to be of two kinds：
the rhythmical thump of several feet， and the music of four fiddles， three flutes， and a drum. She also got her own position clear. She was looking out of a hole in a steep bank which sloped down and reached the level about fourteen feet below her. Everything was very white. A lot of people were moving about. Then she gasped！ The people were trim little Fauns， and Dryads with leaf-crowned hair floating behindthem. For a second they looked as if they were moving anyhow；
then she saw that they were really doing a dance-a dance with so many complicated steps and figures that it took you some time to understand it. Then it came over her like a thunderclap that the pale， blue light was really moonlight， and the white stuff on the ground was really snow. And of course！ There were the stars staring in a black frosty sky overhead. And the tall black things behind the dancers were trees. They had not only got out into the upper world at last， but had come out in the heart of Narnia. Jill felt she could have fainted with delight； and the music-the wild music， intensely sweet and yet just the least bit eerie too， and full of good magic as the Witch’s thrumming had been full of bad magic-made her feel it all the more.
All this takes a long time to tell， but of course it took a very short time to see. Jill turned almost at once to shout down to the others， “I say！ It‘s all right. We’re out， and we‘re home.” But the reason she never got further than “I say” was this. Circling round and round the dancers was a ring of Dwarfs， all dressed in their finest clothes； mostly scarlet with fur-lined hoods and golden tassels and big furry top-boots.
As they circled round they were all diligently throwing snowballs.
（Those were the white things that Jill had seen flying through the air.） They weren’t throwing them at the dancers as silly boys might have been doing in England. They were throwing them through the dance in such perfect time with the music and with such perfect aim that if all the dancers were in exactly the right places at exactly the right moments， no one would be hit. This is called the Great Snow Dance and it is done every year in Narnia on the first moonlit night whenthere is snow on the ground. Of course it is a kind of game as well as a dance， because every now and then some dancer will be the least little bit wrong and get a snowball in the face， and then everyone laughs. But a good team of dancers， Dwarfs， and musicians will keep it up for hours without a single hit. On fine nights when the cold and the drum- taps， and the hooting of the owls， and the moonlight， have got into
their wild， woodland blood and made it even wilder， they will dance till daybreak. I wish you could see it for yourselves.
