“What quarrelsome creatures these humans are，” said Bree to the mare. “They‘re as bad as mules. Let’s try to talk a little sense. I take it， ma‘am， your story is the same as mine？ Captured in early youth.years of slavery among the Calormenes？”
“Too true， sir，” said the mare with a melancholy whinny. “And now， perhaps.escape？”
“Tell him to mind his own business， Hwin，” said the girl. “No， I won’t， Aravis，” said the mare putting her ears back.
“This is my escape just as much as yours. And I‘m sure a noble war.horse like this is not going to betray us. We are trying to escape， to get to Narnia.”
“And so， of course， are we，” said Bree. “Of course you guessed that at once. A little boy in rags riding （or trying to ride） a war.horse at dead of night couldn’t mean anything but an escape of some sort. And， if I may say so， a high. born Tarkheena riding alone at night.dressed up in her brother‘s armour.and very anxious for everyone to mind their own business and ask her no questions.well， if that’s not fishy， call me a cob！”
“All right then，” said Aravis. “You‘ve guessed it. Hwin and I are running away. We are trying to get to Narnia. And now， what about it？”