It still seemed to be early， and the morning freshness was the air. They kept on stopping to look round and to look ehind them， partly because it was so beautiful but partly so because there was something about it which they could ot understand.
“Peter，” said Lucy， “where is this， do you suppose？”
“I don‘t know，” said the High King. “It reminds me of omewhere but I can’t give it a name. Could it be somewhere e once stayed for a holiday when we were very， very small？” “It would have to have been a jolly good holiday，” said ustace. “I bet there isn‘t a country like this anywhere in ur world. Look at the colours！ You couldn’t get a blue like he blue on those mountains in our world.”
“Is it not Aslan‘s country？” said Tirian.
“Not like Aslan’s country on top of that mountain beyond he eastern end of the world，” said Jill. “I‘ve been there.”
“If you ask me，” said Edmund， “it’s like somewhere in the arnian world. Look at those mountains ahead.and the ig ice.mountains beyond them. Surely they‘re rather like he mountains we used to see from Narnia， the ones up estward beyond the Waterfall？”
“Yes， so they are，” said Peter. “Only these are bigger.”
