But not for long. Though Tashbaan looked very far away when they first saw it， it refused to look any further away as they went on. Shasta gave up looking back at it， for it only gave him the feeling that they were not moving at all. Then the light became a nuisance. The glare of the sand made his eyes ache： but he knew he mustn’t shut them. He must screw them up and keep on looking ahead at Mount Pire and shouting out directions. Then came the heat. He noticed it for the first time when he had to dismount and walk： as he slipped down to the sand the heat from it struck up into his face as if from the opening of an oven door. Next time it was worse. But the third time， as his bare feet touched the sand he screamed with pain and got one foot back in the stirrup and the other half over Bree‘s back before you could have said knife.
“Sorry， Bree，” he gasped. “I can’t walk. It burns my feet.” “Of course！” panted Bree. “Should have thought of thatmyself. Stay on. Can‘t be helped.”
“It’s all right for you，” said Shasta to Aravis who was walking beside Hwin. “You‘ve got shoes on.”
Aravis said nothing and looked prim. Let’s hope she didn‘t mean to， but she did.