It was quite unlike any other party they had seen that day. The crier who went before it shouting， “Way， way！” was the only Calormene in it. And there was no litter； everyone was on foot. There were about half a dozen men and Shasta had never seen anyone like them before. For onething， they were all as fair.skinned as himself， and most of them had fair hair. And they were not dressed like men of Calormen. Most of them had legs bare to the knee. Their tunics were of fine， bright， hardy colours.woodland green， or gay yellow， or fresh blue. Instead of turbans they wore steel or silver caps， some of them set with jewels， and one with little wings on each side of it. A few were bare.headed. The swords at their sides were long and straight， not curved like Calormene scimitars. And instead of being grave and mysterious like most Calormenes， they walked with a swing and let their arms and shoulders go free， and chatted and laughed. One was whistling. You could see that they were ready to be friends with anyone who was friendly and didn’t give a fig for anyone who wasn‘t. Shasta thought he had never seen anything so lovely in his life.
