The_Complete_Chronicles_of_Narnia_(volumes_1-7,_in_order_of_publication)

"My dear Hwin!" said Aravis rather scornfully. "As anyone could mistake Bree for
anything but a war-hors however you disguised him!"
"I should think not, indeed," said Bree, snorting an letting his ears go ever so little back.
"I know it's not a very good plan," said Hwin. "But I think it's our only chance. And we
haven't been groomed for ages and we're not looking quite ourselves (at least, I'm sure
I'm not). I do think if we get well plastered with mud and go along with our heads down
as if we're tired and lazy -and don't lift our hooves hardly at all - we might not be noticed.
And our tails ought to be cut shorter: not neatly, you know, but all ragged."
"My dear Madam," said Bree. "Have you pictured to yourself how very disagreeable it
would be to arrive in Narnia in that condition?"
"Well," said Hwin humbly (she was a very sensible mare), "the main thing is to get
there."
Though nobody much liked it, it was Hwin's plan which had to be adopted in the end. It
was a troublesome one and involved a certain amount of what Shasta called stealing, and
Bree called "raiding". One farm lost a few sacks that evening and another lost a coil of
rope the next: but some tattered old boy's clothes for Aravis to wear had to be fairly
bought and paid for in a village. Shasta returned with them in triumph just as evening was
closing in. The others were waiting for him among the trees at the foot of a low range of
wooded hills which lay right across their path. Everyone was feeling excited because this
was the last hill; when they reached the ridge at the top they would be looking down on
Tashbaan. "I do wish we were safely past it," muttered Shasta to Hwin. "Oh I do, I do,"
said Hwin fervently.
That night they wound their way through the woods up to the ridge by a wood-cutter's
track. And when they came out of the woods at the top they could see thousands of lights
in the valley down below them. Shasta had had no notion of what a great city would be
like and it frightened him. They had their supper and the children got some sleep. But the
horses woke them very early in the morning.
The stars were still out and the grass was terribly cold and wet, but daybreak was just
beginning, far to their right across the sea. Aravis went a few steps away into the wood
and came back looking odd in her new, ragged clothes and carrying her real ones in a
bundle. These, and her armour and shield and scimitar and the two saddles and the rest of
the horses' fine furnishings were put into the sacks. Bree and Hwin had already got
themselves as dirty and bedraggled as they could and it remained to shorten their tails. As
the only tool for doing this was Aravis's scimitar, one of the packs had to be undone
again in order to get it out. It was a longish job and rather hurt the horses.
"My word!" said Bree, "if I wasn't a Talking Horse what a lovely kick in the face I could
give you! I thought you were going to cut it, not pull it out. That's what it feels like."