They may have been wise to stick to the Rush instead of going along the top. It kept them sure of their direction： and ever since the fir wood they had all been afraid of being forced too far out of their course and losing themselves in the wood. It was an old and pathless forest， and you could not keep anything like a straight course in it. Patches of hopeless brambles， fallen trees， boggy places and dense undergrowth would be always getting in your way. But the gorge of the Rush was not at all a nice place for travelling either. I mean， it was not a nice place for people in a hurry. For an afternoon’s ramble ending in a picnic tea it would have been delightful. It had everything you could wanton an occasion of that sort.rumbling waterfalls， silver cascades， deep， amber.coloured pools， mossy rocks， and deep moss on the banks in which you could sink over your ankles， every kind of fern， jewel.like dragonflies， sometimes a hawk overhead and once （Peter and Trumpkin. both thought） an eagle. But of course what the children and the Dwarf wanted to see as soon as possible was the Great River below them， and Beruna， and the way to Aslan‘s How. As they went on， the Rush began to fall more and more steeply. Their journey became more and more of a climb and less and less of a walk.in places even a dangerous climb over slipper y rock with a nasty drop into darkchasms， and the river roaring angrily at the bottom.
