“Here you are， mother，” said Bacchus， dipping a pitcher in the cottage well and handing it to her. But what was in it now was not water but the richest wine， red as redcurrant jelly， smooth as oil， strong as beef， warming as tea， cool as dew.
“Eh， you‘ve done something to our well，” said the old woman. “That makes a nice change， that does.” And she jumped out of bed.
“Ride on me，” said Aslan， and added to Susan and Lucy， “You two queens will have to run now.”
“But we’d like that just as well，” said Susan. And off theywent again.
And so at last， with leaping and dancing and singing， with music and laughter and roaring and barking and neighing， they all came to the place where Miraz‘s army stood flinging down their swords and holding up their hands， and Peter’s army， still holding their weapons and breathing hard， stood round them with stern and glad faces. And the first thing that happened was that the old woman slipped off Aslan‘s back and ran across to Caspian and they embraced one another； for she was his old nurse.
Aslan Makes A Door In The Air