They ran into a deep, warm tunnel. It was nothing like earth; it was made of warmweb stuff.
Still, it felt wonderful after the openness of the floor. They felt covered and safe. They ran along, one behind the other, George first. Harry, behind him, ran faster, and ran right over George so he could be in the lead.
But the smell was very, very strong in here.
Harry stopped suddenly. George bumped into him.
“There’s something strange here.”
George came alongside and they felt the strange thing with their feelers.
“Well, it’s meat, that’s for sure,” said George.
Suddenly the two centis realised that the smell they’d been smelling was a foody smell. But it was something they’d certainly never eaten.
“I’m hungry,” said Harry.
“Me too,” said George.
“Shall we—?”
But they didn’t. Something stopped them from having a bite. They kept feeling the meaty thing, which blocked the tunnel. It rose steeply in front of them – a meatcliff. They felt and felt. George felt in one direction, Harry in the other. After a while they ran back to each other.
“This meat-cliff is only part of it, whatever it is,” said Harry.
“It goes on and on,” said Harry.
“No end to it,” said George.
“It’s got bumps and hollows,” said Harry.
“Some parts are hairy,” said George. “It must be some kind of hairy biter.”
“Maybe,” said Harry. But the most ghastly thought had come into his head. He dared not say it.
They were quiet for a moment. Then George said, “Let’s climb up it!”
Harry said slowly, “You know what I think it is?”
But George didn’t want to listen. “We can’t stay here!” he said. He began scrambling up this big warm meat-mountain.
Harry couldn’t bear to be left behind. He scrambled up after him.