'Why doesn't somebody kill them?' Lucy asked. She had wakened when Philip did, and, after a meditative minute, had helped with the palm scales and things.
'It's not so easy,' said the parrot; 'nobody knows how to do it. How would you kill a lion?'
'I don't know,' said Philip; but Lucy said, 'Are they Noah's Ark lions?'
'Of course they are,' said Polly; 'all the books with lions in them are kept shut up.'
'I know how you could kill Noah's Ark lions if you could catch them,' Lucy said.
'It's easy enough to catch them,' said Polly; 'an hour after dawn they go to sleep, but it's unsportsmanlike to kill game when it's asleep.'
'I'm going to think, if you don't mind,' Lucy announced, and sat down very near the fire. 'It's just the opposite of the dragon,' she said after a minute. The parrot nodded and there was a long silence. Then suddenly Lucy jumped up.
'I know,' she cried, 'oh—I really do know. And it won't hurt them either. I don't a bit mind killing things, but I do hate hurting them. There's plenty of rope, I know.'
There was.
'Then when it's dawn we'll tie them up and then you'll see.'