“Harfang！” cried Scrubb and Jill in glad， excited voices； nd， “Harfang，” repeated Puddleglum in a dull， gloomy oice. But he added， “Hullo！ Wild geese！” and had the bow ff his shoulder in a second. He brought down a good fat oose. It was far too late to think of reaching Harfang that ay. But they had a hot meal and a fire， and started the night armer than they had been for over a week. After the fire ad gone out， the night grew bitterly cold， and when they oke next morning， their blankets were stiff with frost. “Never mind！” said Jill， stamping her feet. “Hot baths onight！”
The Hill Of The Strange Trenches
There is no denying it was a beast of a day. Overhead was a sunless sky， muffled in clouds that were heavy with snow； underfoot， a black frost； blowing over it， a wind that felt as if it would take your skin off. When they got down into the plain they found that this part of the ancient road was much more ruinous than any they had yet seen. They had to pick their way over great broken stones and between boulders and across rubble： hard going for sore feet. And， however tired they got， it was far too cold for a halt.