The horse shied， just as it might have shied in the old， miserable days when it pulled a hansom. Then it roared. It strained its neck back as if there were a fly biting its shoulders and it wanted to scratch them. And then， just as the beasts had burst out of the earth， there burst out from the shoulders of Fledge wings that spread and grew， larger than eagles‘， larger than swans’， larger than angels‘ wings in church windows. The feathers shone chestnut colour and copper colour. He gave a great sweep with them and leapt into the air. Twenty feet above Aslan and Digory he snorted， neighed， and curvetted. Then， after circling once round them， he dropped to the earth， all four hoofs together， looking awkward and surprised， but extremely pleased.
“Is it good， Fledge？” said Aslan.
“It is very good， Aslan，” said Fledge.
“Will you carry this little son of Adam on your back to the mountainvalley I spoke of ？”
“What？ Now？ At once？” said Strawberry.or Fledge， as we must now call him. “Hurray！ Come on， little one， I’ve had things like you on my back before. Long， long ago. When there were green fields； and sugar.”
