The Horse and His Boy: Chapters 1–2

Or if he was in a peaceable mood he would say, "O my son, do not allow your mind to be distracted by idle questions. For one of the poets has said, 'Application to business is the root of prosperity, but those who ask questions that do not concern them are steering the ship of folly towards the rock of indigence.'"

Or if he was in a peaceable mood he would say, "O my son, do not allow your mind to be distracted by idle questions. For one of the poets has said, 'Application to business is the root of prosperity, but those who ask questions that do not concern them are steering the ship of folly towards the rock of indigence.'"

He rode upon a strong dappled horse with flowing mane and tail and his stirrups and bridle were inlaid with silver.

He rode upon a strong dappled horse with flowing mane and tail and his stirrups and bridle were inlaid with silver.

By his side hung a curving scimitar, a round shield studded with bosses of brass hung at his back, and his right hand grasped a lance.

On these occasions he usually slept with the donkey in its little thatched stable.

"O my master," replied the fisherman (and Shasta knew by the wheedling tone the greedy look that was probably coming into his face as he said it), "what price could induce your servant, poor though he is, to sell into slavery his only child and his own flesh? Has not one of the poets said, 'Natural affection is stronger than soup and offspring more precious than carbuncles?'"

"O my master," replied the fisherman (and Shasta knew by the wheedling tone the greedy look that was probably coming into his face as he said it), "what price could induce your servant, poor though he is, to sell into slavery his only child and his own flesh? Has not one of the poets said, 'Natural affection is stronger than soup and offspring more precious than carbuncles?'"

But another poet has likewise said, 'He who attempts to deceive the judicious is already baring his own back for the scourge.'

But another poet has likewise said, 'He who attempts to deceive the judicious is already baring his own back for the scourge.'

This boy is manifestly no son of yours, for your cheek is as dark as mine but the boy is fair and white like the accursed but beautiful barbarians who inhabit the remote north.

This boy is manifestly no son of yours, for your cheek is as dark as mine but the boy is fair and white like the accursed but beautiful barbarians who inhabit the remote north.

Know then, O my formidable guest, that because of my extreme poverty I have never married and have no child.

But in that same year in which the Tisroc (may he live for ever) began his august and beneficent reign, on a night when the moon was at her full, it pleased the gods to deprive me of my sleep.

But in that same year in which the Tisroc (may he live for ever) began his august and beneficent reign, on a night when the moon was at her full, it pleased the gods to deprive me of my sleep.

Therefore I arose from my bed in this hovel and went forth to the beach to refresh myself with looking upon the water and the moon and breathing the cool air.

Accordingly, remembering how the gods never fail to reward those who befriend the destitute, and being moved by compassion (for your servant is a man of tender heart)——

Twilight was coming on apace and a star or two was already out, but the remains of the sunset could still be seen in the west.

"The happy land of Narnia—Narnia of the heathery mountains and the thymy downs, Narnia of the many rivers, the plashing glens, the mossy caverns and the deep forests ringing with the hammers of the Dwarfs. Oh the sweet air of Narnia! An hour's life there is better than a thousand years in Calormen."

I was only a foal at the time.

"Ridden the what?" retorted the Horse with extreme contempt.

"Ridden the what?" retorted the Horse with extreme contempt.

"I'm a free Narnian. And why should I talk slaves' and fools' talk? I don't want him to live for ever, and I know that he's not going to live for ever whether I want him to or not. And I can see you're from the free north too. No more of this southern jargon between you and me! And now, back to our plans. As I said, my human was on his way north to Tashbaan."

"You see, he thinks I'm dumb and witless like his other horses. Now if I really were, the moment I got loose I'd go back home to my stable and paddock; back to his palace which is two days' journey south. That's where he'll look for me. He'd never dream of my going on north on my own. And anyway he will probably think that someone in the last village who saw him ride through has followed us to here and stolen me."

"Of course you have," said the Horse. "That's because of the blood that's in you. I'm sure you're true northern stock. But not too loud. I should think they'd be asleep soon now."

For the next few minutes Shasta was at work, very cautiously to avoid jingling, while the Horse said things like, "Get that girth a bit tighter," or "You'll find a buckle lower down," or "You'll need to shorten those stirrups a good bit."

"Anyone would think I was a haystack from the way you're trying to climb up me! There, that's better. Now sit up and remember what I told you about your knees. Funny to think of me who has led cavalry charges and won races having a potato-sack like you in the saddle! However, off we go."

But as soon as they were in the middle of the ford it turned upstream and waded till they were about a hundred yards further inland than the cottage.

Behind them lay a little copse.

There were gulls flying overhead and the heat shivered on the ground; it was a blazing day. But what Shasta chiefly noticed was the air.

Shasta learned to trot, to canter, to jump, and to keep his seat even when Bree pulled up suddenly or swung unexpectedly to the left or the right—which, as Bree told him, was a thing you might have to do at any moment in a battle.

"That's not a farmer's riding. Nor a farmer's horse either. Can't you tell by the sound? That's quality, that horse is. And it's being ridden by a real horseman. I tell you what it is, Shasta. There's a Tarkaan under the edge of that wood. Not on his war horse—it's too light for that. On a fine blood mare, I should say."

Just as Shasta was saying to himself "We must be nearly at those sandhills by now" his heart leaped into his mouth because an appalling noise had suddenly risen up out of the darkness ahead; a long snarling roar, melancholy and utterly savage.

Bree only snorted in answer but he did sheer away to his right. Oddly enough the other horse seemed also to be sheering away to the left, so that in a few seconds the space between them had widened a good deal.

"What quarrelsome creatures these humans are," said Bree to the mare.