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IT was of course the Lion’s voice．The children had long felt sure that he could speak：yet it was a lovely and terrible shock when he did．
Out of the trees wild people stepped forth，gods and goddesses of the wood；with them came Fauns and Satyrs and Dwarfs．Out of the river rose the river god with his Naiad daughters．And all these and all the beasts and birds in their different voices，low or high or thick or clear，replied：
“Hail，Aslan．We hear and obey．We are awake．We love．We think．We speak．We know．”
“But please，we don’t know very much yet，”said a nosey and snorty kind of voice．And that really did make the children jump， for it was the cab-horse who had spoken．
“Good old Strawberry，”said Polly．“I am glad he was one of the ones picked out to be a Talking Beast．”And the Cabby，who was now standing beside the children，said，“Strike me pink．I always did say that ‘oss ’ad a lot of sense，though．”
“Creatures，I give you yourselves，”said the strong，happy voice o
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