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of the gorge,just as men might stand leaning on a wall-lazy men,on a fine morning after breakfast.
“Keep straight on,”whispered Puddleglum,who had noticed them too. “Don’t look at them. And whatever you do,don’t run. They’d be after us in a moment.”
So they kept on,pretending not to have seen the giants. It was like walking past the gate of a house where there is a fierce dog, only far worse. There were dozens and dozens of these giants. They didn’t look angry—or kind—or interested at all. There was no sign that they had seen the travellers.
Then—whizz-whizz-whizz—some heavy object came hurtling through the air,and with a crash a big boulder fell about twenty paces ahead of them. And then—thud !—another fell twenty feet behind.
“Are they aiming at us ?”asked Scrubb.
“No,”said Puddleglum. “We’d be a good deal safer if they were. They’re trying to hit that—that cairn over there to the right. They won’t hit it,you know. It’s safe enough;they’re such ver