“Apples, heigh-ho,” said Trumpkin with a rueful grin. “I must say you a kings and queens don’t overfeed your courtiers！”
They stood up and shook themlves and looked about. The trees were thid they could e no more than a few yards in any dire.
“I suppo your Majesties know the way all right?” said the Dwarf.
“I don’t,” said Susan. “I’ve never en the woods in my life before. In fact I thought all along that we ought to have gone by the river.”
“Then I think you might have said so at the time,” answered Peter, with pardonable sharpness.
“Oh, don’t take any notice of her,” said Edmund. “She always is a wet bla. You’ve got that pocket pass of yours, Peter, haven’t you? Well, then, we’re as right as rain. We’ve only got to keep on going northwest—cross that little river, the what-do-you-call-it?—the Rush—”
“I know,” said Peter. “The ohat joins the big river at the Fords of Beruna, or Beruna’s Bridge, as the D. L. F. calls it.”
“That’s right. Cross it and strike uphill, and we’ll be at the Stoable （Aslan’s How, I mean） by eight or nine o’clock. I hope King Caspian will give us a good breakfast！”
“I hope you’re right,” said Susan. “I ’t remember all that at all.”
“That’s the worst of girls,” said Edmund to Peter and the Dwarf. “They never carry a map in their heads.”
“That’s becau our heads have something ihem,” said Lucy.
At first things emed to be going pretty well. They even thought they had stru old path； but if you know anything about woods, you will know that one is always finding imaginary paths. They disappear after about five minutes and then you think you have found another （and hope it is not another but more of the same one） and it also disappears, and after you have been well lured out of yht dire you realize that none of them were pats at all. The boys and the Dwarf, however, were ud to woods and were not taken in for more than a few ds.
They had plodded on for about half an hour （three of them very stiff from yesterday’s rowing） when Trumpkin suddenly whispered, “Stop.” They all stopped. “There’s something following us,” he said in a low voice. “Or rather, something keeping up with us：over there on the left.” They all stood still, listening and staring till their ears and eyes ached. “You and I’d better each have an arrow oring,” said Susan to Trumpkin. The Dwarf nodded, and when both bows were ready for a the party went on again.