CHAPTER NINE ACROSS THE DESERT（第2/4页）

"Can we ?" said Aravis, swinging herself into Hwin's saddle.Shasta wished he could mount like that.

"Brooh-hoo !" snorted Bree."Up you get, Shasta. Can we ! And with a good start too !"

"He said he was going to start at once," said Aravis.

"That's how humans talk," said Bree. "But you don't get a company of two hundred horse and horsemen watered and victualled and armed and saddled and started all in a minute. Now: what' s our direction ? Due North ?"

"No," said Shasta. "I know about that.I've drawn a line.I' ll explain later.Bear a bit to our left, both you horses. Ah here it is !"

"Now," said Bree. "All that about galloping for a day and a night,like in stories,can' t really be done.It must be walk and trot: but brisk trots and short walks.And whenever we walk you two humans can slip off and walk too. Now.Are you ready, Hwin ? Off we go.Narnia and the North !"

At first it was delightful. The night had now been going on for so many hours that the sand had almost finished giving back all the sun-heat it had received during the day, and the air was cool, fresh, and clear. Under the moonlight the sand, in every direction and as far as they could see, gleamed as if it were smooth water or a great silver tray. Except for the noise of Bree's and Hwin' s hoofs there was not a sound to be heard. Shasta would nearly have fallen asleep if he had not had to dismount and walk every now and then.

This seemed to last for hours. Then there came a time when there was no longer any moon. They seemed to ride in the dead darkness for hours and hours. And after that there came a moment when Shasta noticed that he could see Bree' s neck and head in front of him a little more clearly than before;and slowly, very slowly, he began to notice the vast grey flatness on every side. It looked absolutely dead, like something in a dead world; and Shasta felt quite terribly tired and noticed that he was getting cold and that his lips were dry. And all the time the squeak of the leather, the jingle of the bits, and the noise of the hoofs-not Propputty-propputty as it would be on a hard road, but Thubbudy-thubbudy on the dry sand.

At last, after hours of riding, far away on his right there came a single long streak of paler grey, low down on the horizon. Then a streak of red.It was the morning at last, but without a single bird to sing about it.He was glad of the walking bits now, for he was colder than ever.

Then suddenly the sun rose and everything changed in a moment. The grey sand turned yellow and twinkled as if it was strewn with diamonds. On their left the shadows of Shasta and Hwin and Bree and Aravis, enormously long, raced beside them. The double peak of Mount Pire, far ahead, flashed in the sunlight and Shasta saw they were a little out of the course. "A bit left, a bit left,"he sang out. Best of all, when you looked back, Tashbaan was already small and remote. The Tombs were quite invisible: swallowed up in that single, jagged-edged hump which was the city of the Tisroc.Everyone felt better.

But not for long. Though Tashbaan looked very far away when they first saw it, it refused to look any further away as they went on. Shasta gave up looking back at it, for it only gave him the feeling that they were not moving at all. Then the light became a nuisance. The glare of the sand made his eyes ache: but he knew he mustn't shut them. He must screw them up and keep on looking ahead at Mount Pire and shouting out directions. Then came the heat. He noticed it for the first time when he had to dismount and walk: as he slipped down to the sand the heat from it struck up into his face as if from the opening of an oven door. Next time it was worse. But the third time, as his bare feet touched the sand he screamed with pain and got one foot back in the stirrup and the other half over Bree' s back before you could have said knife.

"Sorry, Bree,"he gasped."I can't walk. It burns my feet.""Of course !" panted Bree."Should have thought of that myself.Stay on.Can' t be helped."

"It's all right for you," said Shasta to Aravis who was walking beside Hwin."You've got shoes on. "

Aravis said nothing and looked prim. Let' s hope she didn' t mean to, but she did.

On again, trot and walk and trot, jingle-jingle-jingle, squeak-squeak-squeak, smell of hot horse,smell of hot self, blinding glare,headache.And nothing at all different for mile after mile.Tashbaan would never look any further away. The mountains would never look any nearer.You felt this had been going on for always-jingle-jingle-jingle, squeaksqueak-squeak,smell of hot horse, smell of hot self.

Of course one tried all sorts of games with oneself to try to make the time pass: and of course they were all no good. And one tried very hard not to think of drinks-iced sherbet in a palace in Tashbaan, clear spring water tinkling with a dark earthy sound, cold, smooth milk just creamy enough and not too creamy-and the harder you tried not to think, the more you thought.