This seemed to last for hours. Then there came a time when there was no longer any moon. They seemed to ride in the dead darkness for hours and hours. And after that there came a moment when Shasta noticed that he could see Bree‘s neck and head in front of him a little more clearly than before； and slowly， very slowly， he began to notice the vast grey flatness on every side. It looked absolutely dead， like something in a dead world； and Shasta felt quite terribly tired and noticed that he was getting cold and that his lips were dry. And all the time the squeak of the leather， the jingle of the bits， and the noise of the hoofs.not propputty.propputty as it would be on a hard road， but thubbudy.thubbudy on the dry sand.
At last， after hours of riding， far away on his right there came a single long streak of paler grey， low down on the horizon. Then a streak of red. It was the morning at last， but without a single bird to sing about it. He was glad of the walking bits now， for he was colder than ever.