Yet somehow they weren’t. They were a mass of bruises， and the wet sticky stuff on her face appeared to be blood. And such a mass of loose earth， shingle， and larger stones was piled up round her （and partly over her） that she couldn‘t get up. The darkness was so complete that it made no difference at all whether you had your eyes open or shut. There was no noise. And that was the very worst moment Jill had ever known in her life. Supposing she was alone： supposing the others . . . Then she heard movements around her. And presently all three， in shaken voices， were explaining that none of them seemed to have any broken bones.
“We can never get up that again，” said Scrubb’s voice. “And have you noticed how warm it is？” said the voice ofPuddleglum. “That means we‘re a long way down. Might be nearly a mile.”
No one said anything. Some time later Puddleglum added： “My tinder.box has gone.”
After another long pause Jill said， “I’m terribly thirsty.” No one suggested doing anything. There was so obviously othing to be done. For the moment， they did not feel it uite so badly as one might have expected； that was because hey were so tired.
