“Puss， puss，” said Shasta. “I suppose you’re not a talkingcat.”
The cat stared at him harder than ever. Then it started walking away， and of course Shasta followed it. It led him right through the Tombs and out on the desert side of them. There it sat down bolt upright with its tail curled round its feet and its face set towards the desert and towards Narnia and the North， as still as if it were watching for some enemy. Shasta lay down beside it with his backagainst the cat and his face towards the Tombs， because if one is nervous there‘s nothing like having your face towards the danger and having something warm and solid at your back. The sand wouldn’t have seemed very comfortable to you， but Shasta had been sleeping on the ground for weeks and hardly noticed it. Very soon he fell asleep， though even in his dreams he went on wondering what had happened to Bree and Aravis and Hwin.
