The cloud was bigger and thicker than it had looked at first and soon the night grew very dark. Just as Shasta was saying to himself， “We must be nearly at those sandhills by now，” his heart leaped into his mouth because an appalling noise had suddenly risen up out of the darkness ahead； a long snarling roar， melancholy and utterly savage. Instantly Bree swerved round and began galloping inland again as fast as he could gallop.
“What is it？” gasped Shasta.
“Lions！” said Bree， without checking his pace or turning his head.
After that there was nothing but sheer galloping for some time. At last they splashed across a wide， shallow stream and Bree came to a stop on the far side. Shasta noticed that he was trembling and sweating all over.
“That water may have thrown the brute off our scent，”
panted Bree when he had partly got his breath again. “We can walk for a bit now.”
As they walked Bree said， “Shasta， I‘m ashamed of myself. I’m just as frightened as a common， dumb Calormene horse. I am really. I don‘t feel like a Talking Horse at all. I don’t mind swords and lances and arrows but I can‘t bear. those creatures. I think I’ll trot for a bit.”
