The_Complete_Chronicles_of_Narnia_(volumes_1-7,_in_order_of_publication)

"I do believe," thought Jill, "that all the stories about giants might have come from those
funny rocks. If you were coming along here when it was half dark, you could easily think
those piles of rock were giants. Look at that one, now! You could almost imagine that the
lump on top was a head. It would be rather too big for the body, but it would do well
enough for an ugly giant. And all that bushy stuff - I suppose it's heather and birds' nests,
really - would do quite well for hair and beard. And the things sticking out on each side
are quite like ears. They'd be horribly big, but then I dare say giants would have big ears,
like elephants. And - o-o-o-h! -"
Her blood froze. The thing moved. It was a real giant. There was no mistaking it; she had
seen it turn its head. She had caught a glimpse of the great, stupid, puffcheeked face. All
the things were giants, not rocks. There were forty or fifty of them, all in a row;
obviously standing with their feet on the bottom of the gorge and their elbows resting on
the edge 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 very bad shots. They play cock-shies most fine mornings. About the only game
they're clever enough to understand."
It was a horrible time. There seemed no end to the line of giants, and they never ceased
hurling stones, some of which fell extremely close. Quite apart from the real danger, the
very sight and sound of their faces and voices were enough to scare anyone. Jill tried not
to look at them.
After about twenty-five minutes the giants apparently had a quarrel. This put an end to
the cock-shies, but it is not pleasant to be within a mile of quarrelling giants. They
stormed and jeered at one another in long, meaningless words of about twenty syllables
each. They foamed and gibbered and jumped in their rage, and each jump shook the earth
like a bomb. They lammed each other on the head with great, clumsy stone hammers; but
their skulls were so hard that the hammers bounced off again, and then the monster who