pp.thegoldencompass-第38部分

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　　〃It　might　not　have　been　Grumman's　head；〃　said　Lee　Scoresby。　〃Your　father　might　have　been　misleading　the　Scholars。〃
　　〃I　suppose　he　might；〃　said　Lyra　thoughtfully。　〃He　was　asking　them　for　money。〃
　　〃And　when　they　saw　the　head；　they　gave　him　the　money？〃
　　〃Yeah。〃
　　〃Good　trick　to　play。　People　are　shocked　when　they　see　a　thing　like　that；　they　don't　like　to　look　too　close。〃
　　〃Especially　Scholars；〃　said　Lyra。
　　〃Well；　you'd　know　better　than　I　would。　But　if　that　was　Grumman's　head；　I'll　bet　it　wasn't　the　Tartars　who　scalped　him。　They　scalp　their　enemies；　not　their　own；　and　he　was　a　Tartar　by　adoption。〃
　　Lyra　turned　that　over　in　her　mind　as　they　drove　on。　There　were　wide　currents　full　of　meaning　flowing　fast　around　her；　the　Gobblers　and　their　cruelty；　their　fear　of　Dust；　the　city　in　the　Aurora；　her　father　in　Svalbard；　her　mother　。　。　。　。And　where　was　she？　The　alethiometer；　the　witches　flying　northward。　And　poor　little　Tony　Makarios；　and　the　clockwork　spy…fly；　and　Iorek　Byrnison's　uncanny　fencing　。　。　。　
　　She　fell　asleep。　And　every　hour　they　drew　closer　to　Bolvangar。
　　
　　
　　FOURTEEN
　　BOLVANGAR　LIGHTS
　　
　　The　fact　that　the　gyptians　had　heard　or　seen　nothing　of　Mrs。　Coulter　worried　Farder　Coram　and　John　Faa　more　than　they　let　Lyra　know；　but　they　weren't　to　know　that　she　was　worried　too。　Lyra　feared　Mrs。　Coulter　and　thought　about　her　often。　And　whereas　Lord　Asriel　was　now　〃father；〃　Mrs。　Coulter　was　never　〃mother。〃　The　reason　for　that　was　Mrs。　Coulter's　daemon；　the　golden　monkey；　who　had　filled　Pantalaimon　with　a　powerful　loathing；　and　who；　Lyra　felt；　had　pried　into　her　secrets；　and　particularly　that　of　the　alethiometer。
　　And　they　were　bound　to　be　chasing　her；　it　was　silly　to　think　otherwise。　The　spy…fly　proved　that；　if　nothing　else。
　　But　when　an　enemy　did　strike；　it　wasn't　Mrs。　Coulter。　The　gyptians　had　planned　to　stop　and　rest　their　dogs；　repair　a　couple　of　sledges；　and　get　all　their　weapons　into　shape　for　the　assault　on　Bolvangar。　John　Faa　hoped　that　Lee　Scoresby　might　find　some　ground　gas　to　fill　his　smaller　balloon　（for　he　had　two；　apparently）　and　go　up　to　spy　out　the　land。　However；　the　aeronaut　attended　to　the　condition　of　the　weather　as　closely　as　a　sailor；　and　he　said　there　was　going　to　be　a　fog；　and　sure　enough；　as　soon　as　they　stopped；　a　thick　mist　descended。　Lee　Scoresby　knew　he'd　see　nothing　from　the　sky；　so　he　had　to　content　himself　with　checking　his　equipment；　though　it　was　all　in　meticulous　order。　Then；　with　no　warning　at　all；　a　volley　of　arrows　flew　out　of　the　dark。
　　Three　gyptian　men　went　down　at　once；　and　died　so　silently　that　no　one　heard　a　thing。　Only　when　they　slumped　clumsily　across　the　dog　traces　or　lay　unexpectedly　still　did　the　nearest　men　notice　what　was　happening；　and　then　it　was　already　too　late；　because　more　arrows　were　flying　at　them。　Some　men　looked　up；　puzzled　by　the　fast　irregular　knocking　sounds　that　came　from　up　and　down　the　line　as　arrows　hurtled　into　wood　or　frozen　canvas。
　　The　first　to　e　to　his　wits　was　John　Faa；　who　shouted　orders　from　the　center　of　the　line。　Cold　hands　and　stiff　limbs　moved　to　obey　as　yet　more　arrows　flew　down　like　rain；　straight　rods　of　rain　tipped　with　death。
　　Lyra　was　in　the　open；　and　the　arrows　were　passing　over　her　head。　Pantalaimon　heard　before　she　did；　and　became　a　leopard　and　knocked　her　over；　making　her　less　of　a　target。　Brushing　snow　out　of　her　eyes；　she　rolled　over　to　try　and　see　what　was　happening；　for　the　semidarkness　seemed　to　be　overflowing　with　confusion　and　noise。　She　heard　a　mighty　roar；　and　the　clang　and　scrape　of　Iorek　Byrnison's　armor　as　he　leaped　fully　clad　over　the　sledges　and　into　the　fog；　and　that　was　followed　by　screams；　snarling；　crunching　and　tearing　sounds；　great　smashing　blows；　cries　of　terror　and　roars　of　bearish　fury　as　he　laid　them　waste。
　　But　who　was　them？　Lyra　had　seen　no　enemy　figures　yet。　The　gyptians　were　swarming　to　defend　the　sledges；　but　that　（as　even　Lyra　could　see）　made　them　better　targets；　and　their　rifles　were　not　easy　to　fire　in　gloves　and　mittens；　she　had　only　heard　four　or　five　shots；　as　against　the　ceaseless　knocking　rain　of　arrows。　And　more　and　more　men　fell　every　minute。
　　Oh；　John　Faa！　she　thought　in　anguish。　You　didn't　foresee　this；　and　I　didn't　help　you！
　　But　she　had　no　more　than　a　second　to　think　that；　for　there　was　a　mighty　snarl　from　Pantalaimon；　and　something…　another　daemon…hurtled　at　him　and　knocked　him　down；　crushing　all　the　breath　out　of　Lyra　herself；　and　then　hands　were　hauling　at　her；　lifting　her；　stifling　her　cry　with　foul…smelling　mittens；　tossing　her　through　the　air　into　another's　arms；　and　then　pushing　her　flat　down　into　the　snow　again；　so　that　she　was　dizzy　and　breathless　and　hurt　all　at　once。　Her　arms　were　hauled　behind　till　her　shoulders　cracked；　and　someone　lashed　her　wrists　together；　and　then　a　hood　was　crammed　over　her　head　to　muffle　her　screams；　for　scream　she　did；　and　lustily：
　　〃Iorek！　Iorek　Byrnison！　Help　me！〃
　　But　could　he　hear？　She　couldn't　tell；　she　was　hurled　this　way　and　that；　crushed　onto　a　hard　surface　which　then　began　to　lurch　and　bump　like　a　sledge。　The　sounds　that　reached　her　were　wild　and　confused。　She　might　have　heard　Iorek　Byrnison's　roar；　but　it　was　a　long　way　off；　and　then　she　was　jolting　over　rough　ground；　arms　twisted；　mouth　stifled；　sobbing　with　rage　and　fear。　And　strange　voices　spoke　around　her。
　　〃Pan　。　。　。　〃
　　〃I'm　here；　shh；　I'll　help　you　breathe。　Keep　still　。　。　。　〃
　　His　mouse　paws　tugged　at　the　hood　until　her　mouth　was　freer；　and　she　gulped　at　the　frozen　air。
　　〃Who　are　they？〃　she　whispered。
　　〃They　look　like　Tartars。　I　think　they　hit　John　Faa。〃
　　〃No…〃
　　〃I　saw　him　fall。　But　he　should　have　been　ready　for　this　sort　of　attack。　We　know　that。〃
　　〃But　we　should　have　helped　him！　We　should　have　been　watching　the　alethiometer！〃
　　〃Hush。　Pretend　to　be　unconscious。〃
　　There　was　a　whip　cracking；　and　the　howl　of　racing　dogs。　From　the　way　she　was　being　jerked　and　bounced　about；　Lyra　could　tell　how　fast　they　were　going；　and　though　she　strained　to　hear　the　sounds　of　battle；　all　she　made　out　was　a　forlorn　volley　of　shots；　muffled　by　the　distance；　and　then　the　creak　and　rush　and　soft　paw　thuds　in　the　snow　were　all　there　was　to　hear。
　　〃They'll　take　us　to　the　Gobblers；〃　she　whispered。
　　The　word　severed　came　to　their　mind。　Horrible　fear　filled　Lyra's　body；　and　Pantalaimon　nestled　close　against　her。
　　〃I'll　fight；〃　he　said。
　　〃So　will　I。　I'll　kill　them。〃
　　〃So　will　Iorek　when　he　finds　out。　He'll　crush　them　to　death。〃
　　〃How　far　are　we　from　Bolvangar？〃
　　Pantalaimon　didn't　know；　but　he　thought　it　was　less　than　a　day's　ride。
　　After　they　had　been　driving　along　for　such　a　time　that　Lyra's　body　was　in　torment　from　cramp；　the　pace　slackened　a　little；　and　someone　roughly　pulled　off　the　hood。
　　She　looked　up　at　a　broad　Asiatic　face；　under　a　wolverine　hood；　lit　by　flickering　lamplight。　His　black　eyes　showed　a　glint　of　satisfaction；　especially　when　Pantalaimon　slid　out　of　Lyra's　anorak　to　bare　his　white　ermine　teeth　in　a　hiss。　The　man's　daemon；　a　big　heavy　wolverine；　snarled　back；　but　Pantalaimon　didn't　flinch。
　　The　man　hauled　Lyra　up　to　a　sitting　position　and　propped　her　against　the　side　of　the　sledge。　She　kept　falling　sideways　because　her　hands　were　still　tied　behind　her；　and　so　he　tied　her　feet　together　instead　and　released　her　hands。
　　Through　the　snow　that　was　falling　and　the　thick　fog　she　saw　how　powerful　this　man　was；　and　the　sledge　driver　too；　how　balanced　in　the　sledge；　how　much　at　home　in　this　land　in　a　way　the　gyptians　weren't。
　　The　man　spoke；　but　of　course　she　understood　nothing。　He　tried　a　different　language　with　the　same　result。　Then　he　tried　English。
　　〃You　name？〃
　　Pantalaimon　bristled　warningly；　and　she　knew　what　he　meant　at　once。　So　these　men　didn't　know　who　she　was！　They　hadn't　kidnapped　her　because　of　her　connection　with　Mrs。　Coulter；　so　perhaps　they　weren't　in　the　pay　of　the　Gobblers　after　all。
　　〃Lizzie　Brooks；〃　she　said。
　　〃Lissie　Broogs；〃　he　said　after　her。　〃We　take　you　nice　place。　Nice　peoples。〃
　　〃Who　are　you？〃
　　〃Samoyed　peoples。　Hunters。〃
　　〃Where　are　you　taking　me？〃
　　〃Nice　place。　Nice　peoples。　You　have　panserbjorne？〃
　　〃For　protection。〃
　　〃No　good！　Ha；　ha；　bear　no　good！　We　got　you　anyway！〃
　　He　laughed　loudly。　Lyra　controlled　herself　and　said　nothing。
　　〃Who　those　peoples？〃　the　man　asked　next；　pointing　back　the　way　they　had　e。
　　〃Traders。〃
　　〃Traders　。　。　。　What　they　trade？〃
　　〃Fur；　spirits；〃　she　said。　〃Smokeleaf。〃
　　〃They　sell　smokeleaf；　buy　furs？〃
　　〃Yes。〃
　　He　said　something　to　his　panion；　who　spoke　back　briefly。　All　the　time　the　sledge　was　speeding　onward；　and　Lyra　pulled　herself　up　more　fortably　to　try　and　see　where　they　were　heading；　but　the　snow　was　falling　thickly；　and　the　sky　was　dark；　and　presently　she　became　too　cold　to　peer　out　any　longer；　and　lay　down。　She　and　Pantalaimon　could　feel　each　other's　thoughts；　and　tried　to　keep　calm；　but　the　thought　of　John　Faa　dead　。　。　。　And　what　had　happened　to　Farder　Coram？　And　would　Iorek　manage　to　kill　the　other　Samoyeds？　And　would　they　ever　manage　to　track　her　down？
　　For　the　first　time；　she　began　to　feel　a　little　sorry　for　herself。
　　After　a　long　time；　the　man　shook　her　by　the　shoulder　and　handed　her　a　strip　of　dried　reindeer　meat　to　chew。　It　was　rank　and　tough；　but　she　was　hungry；　and　there　was　nourishment　in　it。　After　chewing　it；　she　felt　a　little　better。　She　slipped　her　hand　slowly　into　her　furs　till　she　was　sure　the　alethiometer　was　still　there；　and　then　carefully　withdrew　the　spy…fly　tin　and　slipped　it　down　into　her　fur　boot。　Pantalaimon　crept　in　as　a　mouse　and　pushed　it　as　far　down　as　he　could；　tucking　it　under　the　bottom　of　her　reindeer…skin　legging。
　　When　that　was　done；　she　closed　her　eyes。　Fear　had　made　her　exhausted；　and　soon　she　slipped　uneasily　into　sleep。
　　She　woke　up　when　the　motion　of　the　sledge　changed。　It　was　suddenly　smoother；　and　when　she　opened　her　eyes　there　were　passing　lights　dazzling　above　her；　so　bright　she　had　to　pull　the　hood　further　over　her　head　before　peering　out　again。　She　was　horribly　stiff　and　cold；　but　she　managed　to　pull　herself　upright　enough　to　see　that　the　sledge　was　driving　swiftly　between