A New Perspective

When C. S. Lewis sent his original manuscript for the "Magician's Nephew" to the publisher, he was told it was to long. C. S. Lewis cut some chapters toward the end, which weren't crucial to the story line. The missing chapters are recorded here. Coincidentally, it was shortly after reading the original manuscript that J. R. R. Tolkien wrote his epic work, "The Lord if the Rings." (Hey, I like to use my imagination)

Chapter one: Digory and Polly have one last adventure

Both children were looking up into the Lion's face as he spoke these words. And all at once (they never knew exactly how) the face, and indeed, the entire lion, faded. The next moment, they found themselves entirely alone, Uncle Andrew sleeping at their feet. The were back in the wood between the worlds, and they felt as if they'd woke from a dream. Digory shook himself and looked around.
"Well, we've had quite an adventure, Polly. I suppose we'd better wake Uncle Andrew and go through the home pool."
"But Digory! Where is the home pool?"
"Great Scott! I don't see it anywhere! Either the mark I left has disappeared or we're in a completely different part of the woods! Quick, let's have a look around." The two children hurried around the wood looking for the mark they'd so carefully left by the home pool, being careful all the while not to loose site of Uncle Andrew. For they knew that when one is lost, the worst thing possible is to lose the place where one lost oneself in the first place.
"Oh Digory! What'll we do?" Asked Polly as they gave up their search, panting in the heavy air.
"Well, Polly, we'd best start trying pools. We can leave Uncle Andrew here until we find the right one. And I'll leave the apple Aslan gave me here too. I mustn't lose that"
"But Digory! All those different worlds! We might never get home!"
"Well we certainly won't get home standing here balling. And we simply must get home for I need to give the apple to mother. Here, let's try this pool first."
"Oh, all right."
"One – Two – Three – Go!" said Digory. And clasping hands, they jumped into one of the pools. Down and down they rushed, through darkness and vague shapes. As it grew lighter, they felt that they were standing on something solid. The looked around as everything came into focus.
What they noticed first was the noise. A loud constant din, classes of steel, groans of men, the crashes of falling stone, and the creaking of large machines. It was like a distant roar. Polly and Digory could not have immediately told you what it was, for they had had never heard it before. And I do hope you haven't either. It was, indeed, the sound of a great battle. Then they smelled the smoke lingering in the air, the trace of fires. And though it takes much longer to tell, they sensed all this in a split second, and along with it they felt the pervading sense of danger - great danger.
"Digory, this is the wrong pool, and I don't like it here. Quick, let's go back!"
"Wait. I want to see what that noise is. I'll just take a quick look over the wall and then we'll go."
And with that Digory stepped across the cobblestones and up to a low white stone wall. He peered over cautiously, and gasped in alarm. He saw that he was on the top of a noble multi-leveled city, made all of white stone, but that is not, of course, what alarmed him. What alarmed Digory – and what would have alarmed you, I am quite certain – was a great black army of many thousands, complete with siege machines, standing at the city gates. There was a great battering ram, pounding ever back and forth, back and forth, on the huge gate. This entire army gave off a feeling of evil, and gave Digory a sense of foreboding. But worst of all was what was behind the battering ram. A great, black, winged beast hovered there, and mounted upon it was a tall black figure. This figure filled Digory with an overpowering sense of fear, and he immediately stepped away from the wall, and back to Polly. You would have done the same, for this figure was no ordinary man. It was a Nazgul, a creature forgotten even in legend, resurrected before him. But he didn't know that anymore than you do. All he knew is that it was evil.
"You're right. Let's get out of here. Yellow rings on."
But it was too late. At that very moment Polly and Digory were roughly grabbed and swung around to face a tall man covered from head to toe in magnificent armor. The man looked stern, though not unkind. His voice was deep and gruff, but not unfriendly. Digory got the feeling he might have a little boy of his own.
"You have appeared out of nowhere, and now you speak of rings – magic rings, perhaps?"
"Well...I suppose you might call them that..." stammered Digory, caught of guard.
"Then in the name of Gondor, give me those rings. The Steward must see them." said the guard, releasing Digory and holding out his hand for the rings.
"What!" exclaimed Polly, taken aback.
"I am Beregond, guard of the citadel, in the service of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor. One cannot be too careful in these troubled times, and I am therefore honor bound to show these rings to the Steward. In the name of Gondor, give me the magic rings!"
"Quick Polly," whispered Digory, seeing that Polly was near frozen with shock," "Rings on and we'll be gone!" The children reached for their pockets, but Beregond was there first. Polly's pockets were emptied, then Digory's, before the children knew what was happening.
"Wait a minute!" said Digory angrily, "You can't take those rings! We need them to bet home!"
"I sympathize with you, children," said Beregond in a softer tone of voice, "I have a son about your age. But, truly, how do I know you're really children? You are not dressed at all like ordinary children. You could be spies of Sauron. Or perhaps you are in league with Saruman – he often uses disguises. It is my duty to take this matter to the Steward."
"But wait! We don't even belong in this world! You don't understand!" Digory began.
But at that moment the sound of footsteps was heard, and Beregond, slipping the rings into his pouch, resumed his post at the gate.