Eustace was dreaming vividly. He was out with Nesta and Becky. Becky had been specially entrusted to their care, and they had been told only to go a little way into the scrub. As a rule the children were not allowed to go into the scrub without a grown-up in charge, for there were dangers among the thick bushy undergrowth known by this odd name. For one thing, snakes abounded there; for another, it was only too easy to lose one's bearings, wander farther and farther into the wood, and eventually die of thirst and starvation, utterly unable to find the way home again. To Eustace's distraction, in his dream Becky would insist on playing hide-and-seek, and kept constantly disappearing and returning, flitting on in front of them now and again like a will-o'-the-wisp.
"We mustn't let her do it," Eustace exclaimed. "Run, Nesta; we must catch her."
But the faster they ran, the farther Becky went; it was extraordinary how fast she could go.
"I can't keep up," Nesta panted.
"Just like a girl," puffed Eustace back, for he was getting exhausted himself.
Then Becky disappeared right out of sight, and though Eustace called her till the echoes rang again and again with her name, there came no answer.
"Now I guess we shall all be lost," thought Eustace desperately.
He was rushing madly hither and thither, when suddenly he heard a blood-curdling yell not very far off. It was followed by another and another, till his heart stood still with terror.
"Of course," he said, pulling himself together with all his might, "she must be in the secret chamber. I never thought of that."
But even as the notion flashed into his mind he knew how silly it was to think of a secret chamber in the Bush. He was so paralyzed by the awfulness of the sounds that for a moment he could not move; but at last, with a mighty effort, he forced himself to dart forward in the direction whence the cries came.