After that， for many days， without wind in her shrouds or oam at her bows， across a waveless sea， the Dawn Treader lided smoothly east. Every day and every hour the light ecame more brilliant and still they could bear it. No one te or slept and no one wanted to， but they drew buckets f dazzling water from the sea， stronger than wine and omehow wetter， more liquid， than ordinary water， and ledged one another silently in deep draughts of it. And ne or two of the sailors who had been oldish men when he voyage began now grew younger every day. Everyone n board was filled with joy and excitement， but not an xcitement that made one talk. The further they sailed the ss they spoke， and then almost in a whisper. The stillness f that last sea laid hold on them.
“My Lord，” said Caspian to Drinian one day， “what do you ee ahead？”
“Sire，” said Drinian， “I see whiteness. All along the horizon om north to south， as far as my eyes can reach.”
“That is what I see too，” said Caspian， “and I cannot magine what it is.”
