“My son， my son，” said Aslan. “I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another. But I have to think of hundreds of years in the life of Narnia. The Witch whom you have brought into thisworld will come back to Narnia again. But it need not be yet. It is my wish to plant in Narnia a tree that she will not dare to approach， and that tree will protect Narnia from her for many years. So this land shall have a long， bright morning before any clouds come over the sun. You must get me the seed from which that tree is to grow.”
“Yes， sir，” said Digory. He didn’t know how it was to be done but he felt quite sure now that he would be able to do it. The Lion drew a deep breath， stooped its head even lower and gave him a Lion‘s kiss. And at once Digory felt that new strength and courage had gone into him.
“Dear son，” said Aslan， “I will tell you what you must do. Turn and look to the West and tell me what do you see？”
