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THEREisnodenyingitwasabeastofaday.Overheadwasasunlesssky,muffledincloudsthatwereheavywithsnow;underfoot,ablackfrost;blowingoverit,awindthatfeltasifitwouldtakeyourskinoff.Whentheygotdownintotheplaintheyfoundthatthispartoftheancientroadwasmuchmoreruinousthananytheyhadyetseen.Theyhadtopicktheirwayovergreatbrokenstonesandbetweenbouldersandacrossrubble:hardgoingforsorefeet.And,howevertiredtheygot,itwasfartoocoldforahalt.
Ataboutteno’clockthefirsttinysnowflakescameloiteringdownandsettledonJill’sarTenminuteslatertheywerefallingquitethickly.Intwentyminutesthegroundwasnoticeablywhite.Andbytheendofhalfanhouragoodsteadysnowstorm,whichlookedasifitmeanttolastallday,wasdrivingintheirfacessothattheycouldhardlysee.
Inordertounderstandwhatfollowed,youmustkeeponrememberinghowlittletheycouldsee.Astheydrewnearthelowhillwhichseparatedthemfromtheplacewherethelightedwindowshadappeared,theyhadnogeneralviewofitatall.Itwasaquestionofseeingthenextfewpacesahead,and,evenforthat,youhadtoscrewupyoureyes.Needlesstosay,theywerenottalking.
Whentheyreachedthefootofthehilltheycaughtaglimpseofwhatmightberocksoneachside—squarishrocks,ifyoulookedatthemcarefully,butnoonedid.Allweremoreconcernedwiththeledgerightinfrontofthemwhichbarredtheirway.Itwasaboutfourfeethigh.TheMarsh-wiggle,withhislonglegs,hadnodifficultyinjumpingontothetopofit,andhethenhelpedtheothersup.Itwasanastywetbusinessforthem,thoughnotforhim,becausethesnownowlayquitedeepontheledge.Theythenhadastiffclimb—Jillfellonce—upveryroughgroundforaboutahundredyards,andcametoasecondledge.Therewerefouroftheseledgesaltogether,atquiteirregularintervals.
Astheystruggledontothefourthledge,therewasnomistakingthefactthattheywerenowatthetopoftheflathill.Uptillnowtheslopehadgiventhemsomeshelter;here,theygotthefullfuryofthewind.Forthehill,oddlyenough,wasquiteasflatontopasithadlookedfromadistance:agreatleveltablelandwhichthestormtoreacrosswithoutresistance.Inmostplacesthesnowwasstillhardlylyingatall,forthewindkeptcatchingitupoffthegroundinsheetsandclouds,andhurlingitintheirfaces.Androundtheirfeetlittleeddiesofsnowranaboutasyousometimesseethemdoingoverice.And,indeed,inmanyplaces,thesurfacewasalmostassmoothasice.Buttomakemattersworseitwascrossedandcrisscrossedwithcuriousbanksordykes,whichsometimesdivideditupintosquaresandoblongs.Alltheseofcoursehadtobeclimbed;theyvariedfromtwotofivefeetinheightandwereaboutacoupleofyardsthick.Onthenorthsideofeachbankthesnowalreadylayindeepdrifts;andaftereachclimbyoucamedownintoadriftandgotwet.
Fightingherwayforwardwithhoodupandheaddownandnumbhandsinsidehercloak,Jillhadglimpsesofotheroddthingsonthathorribletableland—thingsonherrightthatlookedvaguelylikefactorychimneys,and,onherleft,ahugecliff,straighterthananycliffoughttobe.Butshewasn’tatallinterestedanddidn’tgivethemathought.Theonlythingsshethoughtaboutwerehercoldhands(andnoseandchinandears)andhotbathsandbedsatHarfang.
Suddenlysheskidded,slidaboutfivefeet,andfoundherselftoherhorrorslidingdownintoadark,narrowchasmwhichseemedthatmomenttohaveappearedinfrontofher.HalfasecondlatershehadreachedthebottoSheappearedtobeinakindoftrenchorgroove,onlyaboutthreefeetwide.Andthoughshewasshakenbythefall,almostthefirstthingshenoticedwasthereliefofbeingoutofthewind;forthewallsofthetrenchrosehighaboveher.Thenextthingshenoticedwas,naturally,theanxiousfacesofScrubbandPuddleglumlookingdownatherfromtheedge.
“Areyouhurt,Pole?”shoutedScrubb.
“Bothlegsbroken,Ishouldn’twonder,”shoutedPuddleglu
Jillstoodupandexplainedthatshewasallright,butthey’dhavetohelpherout.
“Whatisityou’vefalleninto?”askedScrubb.
“It’sakindoftrench,oritmightbeakindofsunkenlaneorsomething,”saidJill.“Itrunsquitestraight.”
“Yes,byJove,”saidScrubb.“Anditrunsduenorth!Iwonderisitasortofroad?Ifitwas,we’dbeoutofthisinfernalwinddownthere.Istherealotofsnowatthebottom?”
“Hardlyany.Itallblowsoverthetop,Isuppose.”
“Whathappensfartheron?”
“Halfasecond.I’llgoandsee,”saidJill.Shegotupandwalkedalongthetrench;butbeforeshehadgonefar,itturnedsharplytotheright.Sheshoutedthisinformationbacktotheothers.
“What’sroundthecorner?”askedScrubb.
NowithappenedthatJillhadthesamefeelingabouttwistypassagesanddarkplacesunderground,orevennearlyunderground,thatScrubbhadabouttheedgesofcliffs.Shehadnointentionofgoingroundthatcorneralone;especiallywhensheheardPuddleglumbawlingoutfrombehindher:
“Becareful,Pole.It’sjustthesortofplacethatmightleadtoadragon’scave.Andinagiantcountry,theremightbegiantearth-wormsorgiantbeetles.”
“Idon’tthinkitgoesanywheremuch,”saidJill,cominghastilyback.
“I’mjollywellgoingtohavealook,”saidScrubb.“Whatdoyoumeanbyanywheremuch,Ishouldliketoknow?”Sohesatdownontheedgeofthetrench(everyonewastoowetbynowtobotheraboutbeingabitwetter)andthendroppedin.HepushedpastJilland,thoughhedidn’tsayanything,shefeltsurethatheknewshehadfunkedit.Soshefollowedhimclose,buttookcarenottogetinfrontofhi
Itproved,however,adisappointingexploration.Theywentroundtheright-handturnandstraightonforafewpaces.Heretherewasachoiceofways:straightonagain,orsharptotheright.“That’snogood,”saidScrubb,glancingdowntheright-handturn,“thatwouldbetakingusback—south.”Hewentstraighton,butoncemore,inafewsteps,theyfoundasecondturntotheright.Butthistimetherewasnochoiceofways,forthetrenchtheyhadbeenfollowingherecametoadeadend.
“Nogood,”gruntedScrubb.Jilllostnotimeinturningandleadingthewayback.WhentheyreturnedtotheplacewhereJillhadfirstfallenin,theMarsh-wigglewithhislongarmshadnodifficultyinpullingthemout.
Butitwasdreadfultobeoutontopagain.Downinthosenarrowslitsoftrenches,theirearshadalmostbeguntothaw.Theyhadbeenabletoseeclearlyandbreatheeasilyandheareachotherspeakwithoutshouting.Itwasabsolutemiserytocomebackintothewitheringcoldness.AnditdidseemhardwhenPuddleglumchosethatmomentforsaying:
“Areyoustillsureofthosesigns,Pole?What’stheoneweoughttobeafter,now?”
“Oh,comeon!Botherthesigns,”saidPole.“SomethingaboutsomeonementioningAslan’sname,Ithink.ButI’mjollywellnotgoingtogivearecitationhere.”
Asyousee,shehadgottheorderwrong.Thatwasbecauseshehadgivenupsayingthesignsovereverynight.Shestillreallyknewthem,ifshetroubledtothink:butshewasnolongerso“pat”inherlessonastobesureofreelingthemoffintherightorderatamoment’snoticeandwithoutthinking.Puddleglum’squestionannoyedherbecause,deepdowninsideher,shewasalreadyannoyedwithherselffornotknowingtheLion’slessonquitesowellasshefeltsheoughttohaveknownit.Thisannoyance,addedtothemiseryofbeingverycoldandtired,madehersay,“Botherthesigns.”Shedidn’tperhapsquitemeanit.
“Oh,thatwasnext,wasit?”saidPuddleglu“NowIwonder,areyouright?Got’emmixed,Ishouldn’twonder.Itseemstome,thishill,thisflatplacewe’reon,isworthstoppingtohavealookat.Haveyounoticed—”
“OhLor!”saidScrubb,“isthisatimeforstoppingtoadmiretheview?Forgoodness’sakelet’sgeton.”
“Oh,look,look,look,”criedJillandpointed.Everyoneturned,andeveryonesaw.Somewayofftothenorth,andagooddealhigherupthanthetablelandonwhichtheystood,alineoflightshadappeared.Thistime,evenmoreobviouslythanwhenthetravellershadseenthemthenightbefore,theywerewindows:smallerwindowsthatmadeonethinkdeliciouslyofbedrooms,andlargerwindowsthatmadeonethinkofgreathallswithfiresroaringonthehearthandhotsouporjuicysirloinssmokingonthetable.
“Harfang!”exclaimedScrubb.
“That’sallverywell,”saidPuddleglu“ButwhatIwassayingwas—”
“Oh,shutup,”saidJillcrossly.“Wehaven’tamomenttolose.Don’tyourememberwhattheLadysaidabouttheirlockingupsoearly?Wemustgetthereintime,wemust,wemust.We’lldieifwe’reshutoutonanightlikethis.”
“Well,itisn’texactlyanight,notyet,”beganPuddleglum;butthetwochildrenbothsaid,“Comeon,”andbeganstumblingforwardontheslipperytablelandasquicklyastheirlegswouldcarrytheTheMarsh-wigglefollowedthem:stilltalking,butnowthattheywereforcingtheirwayintothewindagain,theycouldnothaveheardhimeveniftheyhadwantedto.Andtheydidn’twant.Theywerethinkingofbathsandbedsandhotdrinks;andtheideaofcomingtoHarfangtoolateandbeingshutoutwasalmostunbearable.
Inspiteoftheirhaste,ittookthemalongtimetocrosstheflattopofthathill.Andevenwhentheyhadcrossedit,therewerestillseveralledgestoclimbdownonthefarside.ButatlasttheyreachedthebottomandcouldseewhatHarfangwaslike.
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