Further Up & Further In

The Beavers

Mr. Beaver knew right away that he'd be going with the search parties, and Mrs. Beaver was quick to load him up with almost more provisions than he could carry. (She'd almost offered to go along, but she felt she'd be of more use at home.)

The search parties were full of all kinds of people - many were soldiers, but plenty of them were not, and Mr. Beaver was one of the latter. He'd never really been a soldier, even when he worked at Cair Paravel, and he almost doubted that he'd be of much use. He didn't have much hope in defending himself should they be attacked, nor of fighting to free his kings and queens if they were found captured, and besides the danger, he was getting so old that even just walking was sure to take its toll. Yet he knew that he had done this trek for the Pevensies before, and nothing short of the fiercest illness or injury would prevent him from doing it again. Indeed, he thought, he'd keep searching until he died. So he searched high and low, deep into the woods with the rest of his party, and as night fell, he unloaded some of the food Mrs. Beaver had packed him, and started passing it around. Their search wouldn't last more than a few days at a time, and he longed to get rid of some of the weight he had been given to carry. For him, it was almost more convenience to share - though surely he would have shared anyways if someone had asked. For the Narnians, however, it was everything. Mr. Beaver had long since retired, and yet he was among the first to show up and volunteer for the parties, and now that he was with them, he gave them everything he had. They knew him, and respected him greatly for this. Mr. Beaver would give it all for Narnia - both the kings and queens he had been loyal to, and the people they had sworn to protect. So it was. Mr. Beaver had a blanket for himself - he'd never be unprepared with his wife around - and a few extras just in case, and indeed it happened that several young Narnians who had volunteered to search had not been so thoughtful about what to bring. And as they sat at night, as stars could be glimpsed through the branches of trees, eating their meals next to a fire, Mr. Beaver would do the one thing he could think of to keep hope up among the ranks: he talked. He told them about when the Pevensies had first arrived, and he told them about the journey they'd taken, and he told them about Aslan Himself, and everyone's heart lifted at the thought. Aslan had saved them before - surely he would again.

And as Mr. Beaver did his part to inspire hope, Mrs. Beaver did much of the same. She'd been as quick to invite people over as Mr. Beaver had been to share his provisions. Often it was children who needed looking after, but there were a number of others who hadn't gone with the search parties who she felt compelled to help as well. Young wives and mothers; the injured or the elderly; even those who had simply lacked the bravery required were welcome, and Mrs. Beaver provided them with good food and tea and a number of stories of her own. She, too, had seen Aslan. She, too, had been present at the coronation of the Pevensies. She, too, had faith in their return. And her faith gave hope to the others, and as more and more of them came to huddle in her dam and hear her stories, Mrs. Beaver eventually found herself back in Cair Paravel itself. She figured someone ought to look after it, (oh, she had never been confident it was properly staffed following her retirement,) and she felt certain that the space deserved to be used. There they would gather, and she would take her place up in the kitchen to cook up big meals like she used to, and none of the staff complained. She was a welcome presence. A hopeful one.

That's how the Beavers did their part. It was a role they were happy to play. No, they never gave up hope. And because of them, hope lived on in others.