The_Complete_Chronicles_of_Narnia_(volumes_1-7,_in_order_of_publication)

on the travellers, always trying to keep out of sight themselves. There were big faces and
little faces, huge eyes like fishes' eyes and little eyes like bears'. There were feathers and
bristles, horns and tusks, noses like whipcord, and chins so long that they looked like
beards. Every now and then a group of them would get too big or come too near. Then
the Prince would brandish his sword and make a show of charging them. And the
creatures, with all manner of hootings, squeakings, and cluckings, would dive away into
the darkness.
But when they had climbed many steep streets and were far away from the flood, and
almost out of the town on the inland side, it began to be more serious. They were now
close to the red glow and nearly on a level with it, though they still could not see what it
really was. But by its light they could see their enemies more clearly. Hundreds - perhaps
a few thousands - of gnomes were all moving towards it. But they were doing so in short
rushes, and whenever they stopped, they turned and faced the travellers.
"If your Highness asked me," said Puddleglum, "I'd say those fellows were meaning to
cut us off in front."
"That was my thought too, Puddleglum," said the Prince. "And we can never fight our
way through so many. Hark you! Let us ride forth close by the edge of yonder house.
And even as we reach it, do you slip off into its shadow. The Lady and I will go forward
a few paces. Some of these devils will follow us, I doubt not; they are thick behind us. Do
you, who have long arms, take one alive if you may, as it passes your ambush. We may
get a true tale of it or learn what is their quarrel against us."
"But won't the others all come rushing at us to rescue the one we catch," said Jill in a
voice not so steady as she tried to make it.
"Then, Madam," said the Prince, "you shall see us die fighting around you, and you must
commend yourself to the Lion. Now, good Puddleglum."
The Marsh-wiggle slipped off into the shadow as quickly as a cat. The others, for a
sickening minute or so, went forward at a walk. Then suddenly from behind them there
broke out a series of blood-curdling screams, mixed with the familiar voice of
Puddleglum, saying, "Now then! Don't cry out before you're hurt, or you will be hurt,
see? Anyone would think it was a pig being killed."
"That was good hunting," exclaimed the Prince, immediately turning Coalblack and
coming back to the corner of the house. "Eustace," he said, "of your courtesy, take
Coalblack's head." Then he dismounted, and all three gazed in silence while Puddleglum
pulled his catch out into the light. It was a most miserable little gnome, only about three
feet long. It had a sort of ridge, like a cock's comb (only hard), on the top of its head,
little pink eyes, and a mouth and chin so large and round that its face looked like that of a
pigmy hippopotamus. If they had not been in such a tight place, they would have burst
into laughter at the sight of it.