“Oh bother， bother， bother，” said Susan after she had thought for a moment “I remember now. I took it with methe last day of all， the day we went hunting the White Stag. It must have got lost when we blundered back into that other place.England， I mean.”
Edmund whistled. It was indeed a shattering loss； for this was an enchanted horn and， whenever you blew it， help was certain to come to you， wherever you were.
“Just the sort of thing that might come in handy in a placelike this，” said Edmund.
“Never mind，” said Susan， “I‘ve still got the bow.” And she took it.
“Won’t the string be perished， Su？” said Peter.
But whether by some magic in the air of the treasure chamber or not， the bow was still in working order. Archery and swimming were the things Susan was good at. In a moment she had bent the bow and then she gave one little pluck to the string. It twanged： a chirruping twang that vibrated through the whole room. And that one small noise brought back the old days to the children‘s minds more than anything that had happened yet. All the battles and hunts and feasts came rushing into their heads together.
Then she unstrung the bow again and slung the quiver at her side.