Soon after that a lane crossed the fields and, as they had just heard a church clock strike midnight, Pongo felt there was now little chance of their meeting any humans on the road. He wanted to find a signpost and make sure they were travelling in the right direction. So they went along the lane for a mile until they came to a sleeping village. There was a signpost on the green, which Pongo read by the light of the moon. (He was very good at reading as a pup he had played with alphabet blocks). All was well. Their journey across the fields had saved them many miles, and they were now deep in Essex. (The village where they might have stayed was already behind them). By going north, they would reach Suffolk.

The only depressing thing was that the wonderful steak dinner seemed such a long time ago, And there was no hope of getting food as late as this. They just had to go on and on through the night, getting hungrier and hungrier.

And by the time it began to get light, they were also extremely chilly partly because they were hungry and tired and partly because it was getting colder and colder. The ice on the ponds they passed was thicker and thicker at last they came to a pond where they could not break through to drink.

And now Pongo was really anxious, for they had reached a part of the country where there seemed to be very few villages. Where could they get food and shelter? Where could they hide and sleep during the bitterly cold day ahead of them?

He did not tell Missis of his fears and she would not even admit that she was hungry. But her tail drooped and her pace got slower and slower. He felt terrible: tired, hungry, anxious, and deeply ashamed that he was letting his beautiful wife suffer hardship. Surely there would be a village soon, or a fair-sized farm?

Should we rest a little now, Pongo?€ said Missis at last.

Not until we’ve found some dogs to help us, Missis, said Pongo. Then his heart gave a glad leap. Ahead of them were some thatched cottages! It was full daylight now, and he could see smoke twisting up from several chimneys. Surely some dog would be about.

If anyone tries to catch us, we must take to the fields and run, said Pongo.

Yes, Pongo,€ said Missis, though she did not now feel she could run very far.

They reached the first cottage. Pongo gave a low bark. No dog answered it.