The_Complete_Chronicles_of_Narnia_(volumes_1-7,_in_order_of_publication)

"Down," said Peter after a long pause. "I know Lucy may be right after all, but I can't
help it. We must do one or the other."
So they set off to their right along the edge, downstream. And Lucy came last of the
party, crying bitterly.
CHAPTER TEN
THE RETURN OF THE LION
To keep along the edge of the gorge was not so easy as it had looked. Before they had
gone many yards they were confronted with young fir woods growing on the very edge,
and after they had tried to go through these, stooping and pushing for about ten minutes,
they realized that, in there, it would take them an hour to do half a mile. So they came
back and out again and decided to go round the fir wood. This took them much farther to
their right than they wanted to go, far out of sight of the cliffs and out of sound of the
river, till they began to be afraid they had lost it altogether. Nobody knew the time, but it
was getting to the hottest part of the day.
When they were able at last to go back to the edge of the gorge (nearly a mile below the
point from which they had started) they found the cliffs on their side of it a good deal
lower and more broken. Soon they found a way down into the gorge and continued the
journey at the river's edge. But first they had a rest and a long drink. No one was talking
any more about breakfast, or even dinner, with Caspian.
They may have been wise to stick to the Rush instead of going along the top. It kept them
sure of their direction: and ever since the fir wood they had all been afraid of being
forced too far out of their course and losing themselves in the wood. It was an old and
pathless forest, and you could not keep anything like a straight course in it. Patches of
hopeless brambles, fallen trees, boggy places and dense undergrowth would be always
getting in your way. But the gorge of the Rush was not at all a nice place for travelling
either. I mean, it was not a nice place for people in a hurry. For an afternoon's ramble
ending in a picnic tea it would have been delightful. It had everything you could want on
an occasion of that sort - rumbling waterfalls, silver cascades, deep, amber-coloured
pools, mossy rocks, and deep moss on the banks in which you could sink over your
ankles, every kind of fern, jewel-like dragon flies, sometimes a hawk overhead and once
(Peter and Trumpkin. both thought) an eagle. But of course what the children and the
Dwarf wanted to see as soon as possible was the Great River below them, and Beruna,
and the way to Aslan's How.