Lord of the rings - J.R.R Tolkien

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Được Oracle sửa chữa / chuyển vào 15:08 ngày 25/02/2004

Chapter 10 ​

The Breaking of the Fellowship​

Aragorn led them to the right arm of the River. Here upon its western side under the shadow of Tol Brandir a green lawn ran down to the water from the feet of Amon Hen. Behind it rose the first gentle slopes of the hill clad with trees, and trees marched away westward along the curving shores of the lake. A little spring fell tumbling down and fed the grass.
''Here we will rest tonight,'' said Aragorn. `This is the lawn of Parth Galen: a fair place in the summer days of old. Let us hope that no evil has yet come here.''
They drew up their boats on the green banks, and beside them they made their camp. They set a watch, but had no sight nor sound of their enemies. If Gollum had contrived to follow them, he remained unseen and unheard. Nonetheless as the night wore on Aragorn grew uneasy, tossing often in his sleep and waking. In the small hours he got up and came to Frodo, whose turn it was to watch.
`Why are you waking? '' asked Frodo. `It is not your watch.''
`I do not know,'' answered Aragorn; `but a shadow and a threat has been growing in my sleep. It would be well to draw your sword.''
`Why? '' said Frodo. `Are enemies at hand? ''
`Let us see what Sting may show,'' answered Aragorn.
Frodo then drew the elf-blade from its sheath. To his dismay the edges gleamed dimly in the night. `Orcs! '' he said. `Not very near, and yet too near, it seems.''
`I feared as much,'' said Aragorn. `But maybe they are not on this side of the River. The light of Sting is faint, and it may point to no more than spies of Mordor roaming on the slopes of Amon Lhaw. I have never heard before of Orcs upon Amon Hen. Yet who knows what may happen in these evil days, now that Minas Tirith no longer holds secure the passages of Anduin. We must go warily tomorrow.''
The day came like fire and smoke. Low in the East there were black bars of cloud like the fumes of a great burning. The rising sun lit them from beneath with flames of murky red; but soon it climbed above them into a clear sky. The summit of Tol Brandir was tipped with gold. Frodo looked out eastward and gazed at the tall island. Its sides sprang sheer out of the running water. High up above the tall cliffs were steep slopes upon which trees climbed, mounting one head above another; and above them again were grey faces of inaccessible rock, crowned by a great spire of stone. Many birds were circling about it, but no sign of other living things could be seen.
When they had eaten, Aragorn called the Company together. `The day has come at last,'' he said: ''the day of choice which we have long delayed. What shall now become of our Company that has travelled so far in fellowship? Shall we turn west with Boromir and go to the wars of Gondor; or turn east to the Fear and Shadow; or shall we break our fellowship and go this way and that as each may choose? Whatever we do must be done soon. We cannot long halt here. The enemy is on the eastern shore, we know; but I fear that the Orcs may already be on this side of the water.''
There was a long silence in which no one spoke or moved.
''Well, Frodo,'' said Aragorn at last. `I fear that the burden is laid upon you. You are the Bearer appointed by the Council. Your own way you alone can choose. In this matter I cannot advise you. I am not Gandalf, and though I have tried to bear his part, I do not know what design or hope he had for this hour, if indeed he had any. Most likely it seems that if he were here now the choice would still wait on you. Such is your fate.''
Frodo did not answer at once. Then he spoke slowly. `I know that haste is needed, yet I cannot choose. The burden is heavy. Give me an hour longer, and I will speak. Let me be alone! ''
Aragorn looked at him with kindly pity. `Very well, Frodo son of Drogo,'' he said. `You shall have an hour, and you shall be alone. We will stay here for a while. But do not stray far or out of call.''
Frodo sat for a moment with his head bowed. Sam, who had been watching his master with great concern, shook his head and muttered: ''Plain as a pikestaff it is, but it''s no good Sam Gamgee putting in his spoke just now.''
Presently Frodo got up and walked away; and Sam saw that while the others restrained themselves and did not stare at him, the eyes of Boromir followed Frodo intently, until he passed out of sight in the trees at the foot of Amon Hen.
Wandering aimlessly at first in the wood, Frodo found that his feet were leading him up towards the slopes of the hill. He came to a path, the dwindling ruins of a road of long ago. In steep places stairs of stone had been hewn, but now they were cracked and worn, and split by the roots of trees. For some while he climbed, not caring which way he went, until he came to a grassy place. Rowan-trees grew about it, and in the midst was a wide flat stone. The little upland lawn was open upon the East and was filled now with the early sunlight. Frodo halted and looked out over the River, far below him, to Tol Brandir and the birds wheeling in the great gulf of air between him and the untrodden isle. The voice of Rauros was a mighty roaring mingled with a deep throbbing boom.
He sat down upon the stone and cupped his chin in his hands, staring eastwards but seeing little with his eyes. All that had happened since Bilbo left the Shire was passing through his mind, and he recalled and pondered everything that he could remember of Gandalf''s words. Time went on, and still he was no nearer to a choice.
Suddenly he awoke from his thoughts: a strange feeling came to him that something was behind him, that unfriendly eyes were upon him. He sprang up and turned; but all that he saw to his surprise was Boromir, and his face was smiling and kind.
`I was afraid for you, Frodo,'' he said, coming forward. `If Aragorn is right and Orcs are near, then none of us should wander alone, and you least of all: so much depends on you. And my heart too is heavy. May I stay now and talk for a while, since I have found you? It would comfort me. Where there are so many, all speech becomes a debate without end. But two together may perhaps find wisdom.''
`You are kind,'' answered Frodo. ''But I do not think that any speech will help me. For I know what I should do, but I am afraid of doing it, Boromir: afraid.''
Boromir stood silent. Rauros roared endlessly on. The wind murmured in the branches of the trees. Frodo shivered.
Suddenly Boromir came and sat beside him. `Are you sure that you do not suffer needlessly? '' he said. `I wish to help you. You need counsel in your hard choice. Will you not take mine? ''
''I think I know already what counsel you would give, Boromir,'' said Frodo. ''And it would seem like wisdom but for the warning of my heart.''
`Warning? Warning against what? '' said Boromir sharply.
''Against delay. Against the way that seems easier. Against refusal of the burden that is laid on me. Against-well, if it must be said, against trust in the strength and truth of Men.''
`Yet that strength has long protected you far away in your little country, though you knew it not.''
''I do not doubt the valour of your people. But the world is changing. The walls of Minas Tirith may be strong, but they are not strong enough. If they fail, what then? ''
''We shall fall in battle valiantly. Yet there is still hope that they will not fail.''
''No hope while the Ring lasts,'' said Frodo.
''Ah! The Ring! '' said Boromir, his eyes lighting. ''The Ring! Is it not a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt for so small a thing? So small a thing! And I have seen it only for an instant in the House of Elrond. Could I not have a sight of it again? ''
Frodo looked up. His heart went suddenly cold. He caught the strange gleam in Boromir''s eyes, yet his face was still kind and friendly. ''It is best that it should lie hidden,'' he answered.
''As you wish. I care not,'' said Boromir. ''Yet may I not even speak of it? For you seem ever to think only of its power in the hands of the Enemy: of its evil uses not of its good. The world is changing, you say. Minas Tirith will fall, if the Ring lasts. But why? Certainly, if the Ring were with the Enemy. But why, if it were with us? ''

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

''Were you not at the Council? '' answered Frodo. `Because we cannot use it, and what is done with it turns to evil.''
Boromir got up and walked about impatiently. ''So you go on,'' he cried. ''Gandalf, Elrond ?" all these folk have taught you to say so. For themselves they may be right. These elves and half-elves and wizards, they would come to grief perhaps. Yet often I doubt if they are wise and not merely timid. But each to his own kind. True-hearted Men, they will not be corrupted. We of Minas Tirith have been staunch through long years of trial. We do not desire the power of wizard-lords, only strength to defend ourselves, strength in a just cause. And behold! in our need chance brings to light the Ring of Power. It is a gift, I say; a gift to the foes of Mordor. It is mad not to use it, to use the power of the Enemy against him. The fearless, the ruthless, these alone will achieve victory. What could not a warrior do in this hour, a great leader? What could not Aragorn do? Or if he refuses, why not Boromir? The Ring would give me power of Command. How I would drive the hosts of Mordor, and all men would flock to my banner!''
Boromir strode up and down, speaking ever more loudly: Almost he seemed to have forgotten Frodo, while his talk dwelt on walls and weapons, and the mustering of men; and he drew plans for great alliances and glorious victories to be; and he cast down Mordor, and became himself a mighty king, benevolent and wise. Suddenly he stopped and waved his arms.
''And they tell us to throw it away!'' he cried. `I do not say destroy it. That might be well, if reason could show any hope of doing so. It does not. The only plan that is proposed to us is that a halfling should walk blindly into Mordor and offer the Enemy every chance of recapturing it for himself. Folly!
''Surely you see it, my friend?'' he said, turning now suddenly to Frodo again. `You say that you are afraid. If it is so, the boldest should pardon you. But is it not really your good sense that revolts?''
''No, I am afraid,'' said Frodo. ''Simply afraid. But I am glad to have heard you speak so fully. My mind is clearer now.''
`Then you will come to Minas Tirith? '' cried Boromir. His eyes were shining and his face eager.
`You misunderstand me,'' said Frodo.
''But you will come, at least for a while? '' Boromir persisted. ''My city is not far now; and it is little further from there to Mordor than from here. We have been long in the wilderness, and you need news of what the Enemy is doing before you make a move. Come with me, Frodo,'' he said. `You need rest before your venture. if go you must.'' He laid his hand on the hobbit''s shoulder in friendly fashion; but Frodo felt the hand trembling with suppressed excitement. He stepped quickly away, and eyed with alarm the tall Man, nearly twice his height and many times his match in strength.
`Why are you so unfriendly? '' said Boromir. `I am a true man, neither thief nor tracker. I need your Ring: that you know now; but I give you my word that I do not desire to keep it. Will you not at least let me make trial of my plan? Lend me the Ring! ''
`No! no! '' cried Frodo. ''The Council laid it upon me to bear it.''
`It is by our own folly that the Enemy will defeat us,'' cried Boromir. `How it angers me! Fool! Obstinate fool! Running wilfully to death and ruining our cause. If any mortals have claim to the Ring, it is the men of Númenor, and not Halflings. It is not yours save by unhappy chance. It might have been mine. It should be mine. Give it to me! ''
Frodo did not answer, but moved away till the great flat stone stood between them. `Come, come, my friend! '' said Boromir in a softer voice. ''Why not get rid of it? Why not be free of your doubt and fear? You can lay the blame on me, if you will. You can say that I was too strong and took it by force. For I am too strong for you, halfling,'' he cried; and suddenly he sprang over the stone and leaped at Frodo. His fair and pleasant face was hideously changed; a raging fire was in his eyes.
Frodo dodged aside and again put the stone between them. There was only one thing he could do: trembling he pulled out the Ring upon its chain and quickly slipped it on his finger, even as Boromir sprang at him again. The Man gasped, stared for a moment amazed, and then ran wildly about, seeking here and there among the rocks and trees.
''Miserable trickster!'' he shouted. `Let me get my hands on you! Now I see your mind. You will take the Ring to Sauron and sell us all. You have only waited your chance to leave us in the lurch. Curse you and all halflings to death and darkness! '' Then, catching his foot on a stone, he fell sprawling and lay upon his face. For a while he was as still as if his own curse had struck him down; then suddenly he wept.
He rose and passed his hand over his eyes, dashing away the tears. ''What have I said? '' he cried. `What have I done? Frodo, Frodo! '' he called. ''Come back! A madness took me, but it has passed. Come back! ''
There was no answer. Frodo did not even hear his cries. He was already far away, leaping blindly up the path to the hill-top. Terror and grief shook him, seeing in his thought the mad fierce face of Boromir, and his burning eyes.
Soon he came out alone on the summit of Amon Hen, and halted, gasping for breath. He saw as through a mist a wide flat circle, paved with mighty flags, and surrounded with a crumbling battlement; and in the middle, set upon four carven pillars, was a high seat, reached by a stair of many steps. Up he went and sat upon the ancient chair, feeling like a lost child that had clambered upon the throne of mountain-kings.
At first he could see little. He seemed to be in a world of mist in which there were only shadows: the Ring was upon him. Then here and there the mist gave way and he saw many visions: small and clear as if they were under his eyes upon a table, and yet remote. There was no sound, only bright living images. The world seemed to have shrunk and fallen silent. He was sitting upon the Seat of Seeing, on Amon Hen, the Hill of the Eye of the Men of Númenor. Eastward he looked into wide uncharted lands, nameless plains, and forests unexplored. Northward he looked, and the Great River lay like a ribbon beneath him, and the Misty Mountains stood small and hard as broken teeth. Westward he looked and saw the broad pastures of Rohan; and Orthanc, the pinnacle of Isengard, like a black spike. Southward he looked, and below his very feet the Great River curled like a toppling wave and plunged over the falls of Rauros into a foaming pit; a glimmering rainbow played upon the fume. And Ethir Anduin he saw, the mighty delta of the River, and myriads of sea-birds whirling like a white dust in the sun, and beneath them a green and silver sea, rippling in endless lines.
But everywhere he looked he saw the signs of war. The Misty Mountains were crawling like anthills: orcs were issuing out of a thousand holes. Under the boughs of Mirkwood there was deadly strife of Elves and Men and fell beasts. The land of the Beornings was aflame; a cloud was over Moria; smoke rose on the borders of Lórien.
Horsemen were galloping on the grass of Rohan; wolves poured from Isengard. From the havens of Harad ships of war put out to sea; and out of the East Men were moving endlessly: swordsmen, spearmen, bowmen upon horses, chariots of chieftains and laden wains. All the power of the Dark Lord was in motion. Then turning south again he beheld Minas Tirith. Far away it seemed. and beautiful: white-walled, many-towered, proud and fair upon its mountain-seat; its battlements glittered with steel, and its turrets were bright with many banners. Hope leaped in his heart. But against Minas Tirith was set another fortress, greater and more strong. Thither, eastward, unwilling his eye was drawn. It passed the ruined bridges of Osgiliath, the grinning gates of Minas Morgul. and the haunted Mountains, and it looked upon Gorgoroth, the valley of terror in the Land of Mordor. Darkness lay there under the Sun. Fire glowed amid the smoke. Mount Doom was burning, and a great reek rising. Then at last his gaze was held: wall upon wall, battlement upon battlement, black, immeasurably strong, mountain of iron, gate of steel, tower of adamant, he saw it: Barad-dûr, Fortress of Sauron. All hope left him.
And suddenly he felt the Eye. There was an eye in the Dark Tower that did not sleep. He knew that it had become aware of his gaze. A fierce eager will was there. It leaped towards him; almost like a finger he felt it, searching for him. Very soon it would nail him down, know just exactly where he was. Amon Lhaw it touched. It glanced upon Tol Brandir he threw himself from the seat, crouching, covering his head with his grey hood.
He heard himself crying out: Never, never! Or was it: Verily I come, I come to you? He could not tell. Then as a flash from some other point of power there came to his mind another thought: Take it off! Take it off! Fool, take it off! Take off the Ring!
The two powers strove in him. For a moment, perfectly balanced between their piercing points, he writhed, tormented. Suddenly he was aware of himself again. Frodo, neither the Voice nor the Eye: free to choose, and with one remaining instant in which to do so. He took the Ring off his finger. He was kneeling in clear sunlight before the high seat. A black shadow seemed to pass like an arm above him; it missed Amon Hen and groped out west, and faded. Then all the sky was clean and blue and birds sang in every tree.
Frodo rose to his feet. A great weariness was on him, but his will was firm and his heart lighter. He spoke aloud to himself. `I will do now what I must,'' he said. ''This at least is plain: the evil of the Ring is already at work even in the Company, and the Ring must leave them before it does more harm. I will go alone. Some I cannot trust, and those I can trust are too dear to me: poor old Sam, and Merry and Pippin. Strider, too: his heart yearns for Minas Tirith, and he will be needed there, now Boromir has fallen into evil. I will go alone. At once.''
He went quickly down the path and came back to the lawn where Boromir had found him. Then he halted, listening. He thought he could hear cries and calls from the woods near the shore below.
''They''ll be hunting for me,'' he said. `I wonder how long I have been away. Hours, I should think.'' He hesitated. ''What can I do? '' he muttered. ''I must go now or I shall never go. I shan''t get a chance again. I hate leaving them, and like this without any explanation. But surely they will understand. Sam will. And what else can I do?''

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

Slowly he drew out the Ring and put it on once more. He vanished and passed down the hill, less than a rustle of the wind.
The others remained long by the river-side. For some time they had been silent, moving restlessly about; but now they were sitting in a circle, and they were talking. Every now and again they made efforts to speak of other things, of their long road and many adventures; they questioned Aragorn concerning the realm of Gondor and its ancient history, and the remnants of its great works that could still be seen in this strange border-land of the Emyn Muil: the stone kings and the seats of Lhaw and Hen, and the great Stair beside the falls of Rauros. But always their thoughts and words strayed back to Frodo and the Ring. What would Frodo choose to do? Why was he hesitating?
`He is debating which course is the most desperate, I think,'' said Aragorn. ''And well he may. It is now more hopeless than ever for the Company to go east, since we have been tracked by Gollum, and must fear that the secret of our journey is already betrayed. But Minas Tirith is no nearer to the Fire and the destruction of the Burden.
`We may remain there for a while and make a brave stand; but the Lord Denethor and all his men cannot hope to do what even Elrond said was beyond his power: either to keep the Burden secret. or to hold off the full might of the Enemy when he comes to take it. Which way would any of us choose in Frodo''s place? I do not know. Now indeed we miss Gandalf most.''
''Grievous is our loss,'' said Legolas. ''Yet we must needs make up our minds without his aid. Why cannot we decide, and so help Frodo? Let us call him back and then vote! I should vote for Minas Tirith.''
`And so should I,'' said Gimli. ''We, of course, were only sent to help the Bearer along the road, to go no further than we wished; and none of us is under any oath or command to seek Mount Doom. Hard was my parting from Lothlórien. Yet I have come so far, and I say this: now we have reached the last choice, it is clear to me that I cannot leave Frodo. I would choose Minas Tirith, but if he does not, then I follow him.''
`And I too will go with him,'' said Legolas. `It would be faithless now to say farewell.''
''It would indeed be a betrayal, if we all left him,'' said Aragorn. ''But if he goes east, then all need not go with him; nor do I think that all should. That venture is desperate: as much so for eight as for three or two, or one alone. If you would let me choose, then I should appoint three companions: Sam, who could not bear it otherwise; and Gimli; and myself. Boromir will return to his own city, where his father and his people need him; and with him the others should go, or at least Meriadoc and Peregrin, if Legolas is not willing to leave us.''
`That won''t do at all! '' cried Merry. ''We can''t leave Frodo! Pippin and I always intended to go wherever he went, and we still do. But we did not realize what that would mean. It seemed different so far away, in the Shire or in Rivendell. It would be mad and cruel to let Frodo go to Mordor. Why can''t we stop him?''
''We must stop him,'' said Pippin. `And that is what he is worrying about, I am sure. He knows we shan''t agree to his going east. And he doesn''t like to ask anyone to go with him, poor old fellow. Imagine it: going off to Mordor alone! '' Pippin shuddered. ''But the dear silly old hobbit, he ought to know that he hasn''t got to ask. He ought to know that if we can''t stop him, we shan''t leave him.''
''Begging your pardon,'' said Sam. ''I don''t think you understand my master at all. He isn''t hesitating about which way to go. Of course not! What''s the good of Minas Tirith anyway? To him, I mean, begging your pardon, Master Boromir,'' he added, and turned. It was then that they discovered that Boromir, who at first had been sitting silent on the outside of the circle, was no longer there.
`Now where''s he got to? '' cried Sam, looking worried. ''He''s been a bit queer lately, to my mind. But anyway he''s not in this business. He''s off to his home, as he always said; and no blame to him. But Mr. Frodo, he knows he''s got to find the Cracks of Doom, if he can. But he''s afraid. Now it''s come to the point, he''s just plain terrified. That''s what his trouble is. Of course he''s had a bit of schooling, so to speak-we all have-since we left home, or he''d be so terrified he''d just fling the Ring in the River and bolt. But he''s still too frightened to start. And he isn''t worrying about us either: whether we''ll go along with him or no. He knows we mean to. That''s another thing that''s bothering him. If he screws himself up to go, he''ll want to go alone. Mark my words! We''re going to have trouble when he comes back. For he''ll screw himself up all right, as sure as his name''s Baggins.''
''I believe you speak more wisely than any of us, Sam,'' said Aragorn. `And what shall we do, if you prove right? ''
''Stop him! Don''t let him go! '' cried Pippin.
''I wonder? '' said Aragorn. `He is the Bearer, and the fate of the Burden is on him. I do not think that it is our part to drive him one way or the other. Nor do I think that we should succeed, if we tried. There are other powers at work far stronger.''
`Well, I wish Frodo would "screw himself up" and come back. and let us get it over,'' said Pippin. `This waiting is horrible! Surely the time is up? ''
`Yes,'' said Aragorn. ''The hour is long passed. The morning is wearing away. We must call for him.''
At that moment Boromir reappeared. He came out from the trees and walked towards them without speaking. His face looked grim and sad. He paused as if counting those that were present, and then sat down aloof, with his eyes on the ground.
`Where have you been, Boromir? '' asked Aragorn. `Have you seen Frodo? ''
Boromir hesitated for a second. `Yes, and no,'' he answered slowly. `Yes: I found him some way up the hill, and I spoke to him. I urged him to come to Minas Tirith and not to go east. I grew angry and he left me. He vanished. I have never seen such a thing happen before. though I have heard of it in tales. He must have put the Ring on. I could not find him again. I thought he would return to you.''
''Is that all that you have to say? '' said Aragorn, looking hard and not too kindly at Boromir.
`Yes,'' he answered. `I will say no more yet.''
`This is bad!'' cried Sam, jumping up. `I don''t know what this Man has been up to. Why should Mr. Frodo put the thing on? He didn''t ought to have; and if he has, goodness knows what may have happened!''
''But he wouldn''t keep it on`'' said Merry. `Not when he had escaped the unwelcome visitor, like Bilbo used to.''
`But where did he go? Where is he? '' cried Pippin. ''He''s been away ages now.''
`How long is it since you saw Frodo last, Boromir? '' asked Aragorn.
`Half an hour, maybe,'' he answered. `Or it might be an hour. I have wandered for some time since. I do not know! I do not know! '' He put his head in his hands, and sat as if bowed with grief.
`An hour since he vanished! '' shouted Sam. `We must try and find him at once. Come on! ''
`Wait a moment! '' cried Aragorn. `We must divide up into pairs, and arrange-here, hold on! Wait! ''
It was no good. They took no notice of him. Sam had dashed off first. Merry and Pippin had followed, and were already disappearing westward into the trees by the shore, shouting: Frodo! Frodo! in their clear, high hobbit-voices. Legolas and Gimli were running. A sudden panic or madness seemed to have fallen on the Company.
`We shall all be scattered and lost,'' groaned Aragorn. `Boromir! I do not know what part you have played in this mischief, but help now! Go after those two young hobbits, and guard them at the least, even if you cannot find Frodo. Come back to this spot, if you find him, or any traces of him. I shall return soon.''
Aragorn sprang swiftly away and went in pursuit of Sam. Just as he reached the little lawn among the rowans he overtook him, toiling uphill, panting and calling, Frodo!
`Come with me, Sam! '' he said. `None of us should be alone. There is mischief about. I feel it. I am going to the top, to the Seat of Amon Hen, to see what may be seen. And look! It is as my heart guessed, Frodo went this way. Follow me, and keep your eyes open! '' He sped up the path.
Sam did his best, but he could not keep up with Strider the Ranger, and soon fell behind. He had not gone far before Aragorn was out of sight ahead. Sam stopped and puffed. Suddenly he clapped his hand to his head.
`Whoa, Sam Gamgee! '' he said aloud. `Your legs are too short, so use your head! Let me see now! Boromir isn''t lying, that''s not his way; but he hasn''t told us everything. Something scared Mr. Frodo badly. He screwed himself up to the point, sudden. He made up his mind at last to go. Where to? Off East. Not without Sam? Yes, without even his Sam. That''s hard, cruel hard.''
Sam passed his hand over his eyes, brushing away the tears. ''Steady, Gamgee! '' he said. `Think, if you can! He can''t fly across rivers, and he can''t jump waterfalls. He''s got no gear. So he''s got to get back to the boats. Back to the boats! Back to the boats, Sam, like lightning! ''
Sam turned and bolted back down the path. He fell and cut his knees. Up he got and ran on. He came to the edge of the lawn of Parth Galen by the shore, where the boats were drawn up out of the water. No one was there. There seemed to be cries in the woods behind, but he did not heed them. He stood gazing for a moment. stock-still, gaping. A boat was sliding down the bank all by itself. With a shout Sam raced across the grass. The boat slipped into the water.
`Coming, Mr. Frodo! Coming! '' called Sam, and flung himself from the bank, clutching at the departing boat. He missed it by a yard. With a cry and a splash he fell face downward into deep swift water. Gurgling he went under, and the River closed over his curly head.
An exclamation of dismay came from the empty boat. A paddle swirled and the boat put about. Frodo was just in time to grasp Sam by the hair as he came up, bubbling and struggling. Fear was staring in his round brown eyes.
`Up you come, Sam my lad! '' said Frodo. `Now take my hand! ''
`Save me, Mr. Frodo! '' gasped Sam. `I''m drownded. I can''t see your hand.''
`Here it is. Don''t pinch, lad! I won''t let you go. Tread water and don''t flounder, or you''ll upset the boat. There now, get hold of the side, and let me use the paddle! ''
With a few strokes Frodo brought the boat back to the bank. and Sam was able to scramble out, wet as a water-rat. Frodo took off the Ring and stepped ashore again.

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

`Of all the confounded nuisances you are the worst, Sam! '' he said.
''Oh, Mr. Frodo, that''s hard! '' said Sam shivering. `That''s hard, trying to go without me and all. If I hadn''t a guessed right, where would you be now? ''
`Safely on my way.''
`Safely! '' said Sam. `All alone and without me to help you? I couldn''t have a borne it, it''d have been the death of me.''
''It would be the death of you to come with me, Sam,'' said Frodo and I could not have borne that.''
`Not as certain as being left behind,'' said Sam.
`But I am going to Mordor.''
`I know that well enough, Mr. Frodo. Of course you are. And I''m coming with you.''
`Now, Sam,'' said Frodo, `don''t hinder me! The others will be coming back at any minute. If they catch me here. I shall have to argue and explain, and I shall never have the heart or the chance to get off. But I must go at once. It''s the only way.''
`Of course it is,'' answered Sam. ''But not alone. I''m coming too, or neither of us isn''t going. I''ll knock holes in all the boats first.''
Frodo actually laughed. A sudden warmth and gladness touched his heart. `Leave one! ''he said. `We''ll need it. But you can''t come like this without your gear or food or anything.''
''Just hold on a moment, and I''ll get my stuff!'' cried Sam eagerly. ''It''s all ready. I thought we should be off today.'' He rushed to the camping place, fished out his pack from the pile where Frodo had laid it when he emptied the boat of his companions'' goods grabbed a spare blanket, and some extra packages of food, and ran back.
`So all my plan is spoilt! '' said Frodo. `It is no good trying to escape you. But I''m glad, Sam. I cannot tell you how glad. Come along! It is plain that we were meant to go together. We will go, and may the others find a safe road! Strider will look after them. I don''t suppose we shall see them again.''
`Yet we may, Mr Frodo. We may,'' said Sam.
So Frodo and Sam set off on the last stage of the Quest together. Frodo paddled away from the shore, and the River bore them swiftly away. down the western arm, and past the frowning cliffs of Tol Brandir. The roar of the great falls drew nearer. Even with such help as Sam could give, it was hard work to pass across the current at the southward end of the island and drive the boat eastward towards the far shore.
At length they came to land again upon the southern slopes of Amon Lhaw. There they found a shelving shore, and they drew the boat out, high above the water, and hid it as well as they could behind a great boulder. Then shouldering their burdens, they set off, seeking a path that would bring them over the grey hills of the Emyn Muil, and down into the Land of Shadow.
Here ends the first part of the history of the War of the Ring.
The second part is called THE TWO TOWERS, since the events recounted in it are dominated by ORTHANC, the citadel of Saruman, and the fortress of MINAS MORGUL that guards the secret entrance to Mordor; it tells of the deeds and perils of all the members of the now sundered fellowship, until the coming of the Great Darkness.
The third part tells of the last defence against the Shadow, and the end of the mission of the Ring-bearer in THE RETURN OF THE KING.

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

BOOK III
Chapter 1
The Departure of Boromir​

Aragorn sped on up the hill. Every now and again he bent to the ground. Hobbits go light, and their footprints are not easy even for a Ranger to read, but not far from the top a spring crossed the path, and in the wet earth he saw what he was seeking.
''I read the signs aright,'' he said to himself. ''Frodo ran to the hill-top. I wonder what he saw there? But he returned by the same way, and went down the hill again.''
Aragorn hesitated. He desired to go to the high seat himself, hoping to see there something that would guide him in his perplexities; but time was pressing. Suddenly he leaped forward, and ran to the summit, across the great flag-stones, and up the steps. Then sitting in the high seat he looked out. But the sun seemed darkened, and the world dim and remote. He turned from the North back again to North, and saw nothing save the distant hills, unless it were that far away he could see again a great bird like an eagle high in the air, descending slowly in wide circles down towards the earth.
Even as he gazed his quick ears caught sounds in the woodlands below, on the west side of the River. He stiffened. There were cries, and among them, to his horror, he could distinguish the harsh voices of Orcs. Then suddenly with a deep-throated call a great horn blew, and the blasts of it smote the hills and echoed in the hollows, rising in a mighty shout above the roaring of the falls.
''The horn of Boromir!'' he cried. ''He is in need!'' He sprang down the steps and away, leaping down the path. ''Alas! An ill fate is on me this day, and all that I do goes amiss. Where is Sam?''
As he ran the cries came louder, but fainter now and desperately the horn was blowing. Fierce and shrill rose the yells of the Orcs, and suddenly the horn-calls ceased. Aragorn raced down the last slope, but before he could reach the hill''s foot, the sounds died away; and as he turned to the left and ran towards them they retreated, until at last he could hear them no more. Drawing his bright sword and crying Elendil! Elendil! he crashed through the trees.
A mile, maybe, from Parth Galen in a little glade not far from the lake he found Boromir. He was sitting with his back to a great tree, as if he was resting. But Aragorn saw that he was pierced with many black-feathered arrows; his sword was still in his hand, but it was broken near the hilt; his horn cloven in two was at his side. Many Orcs lay slain, piled all about him and at his feet.
Aragorn knelt beside him. Boromir opened his eyes and strove to speak. At last slow words came. ''I tried to take the Ring from Frodo '' he said. ''I am sorry. I have paid.'' His glance strayed to his fallen enemies; twenty at least lay there. ''They have gone: the Halflings: the Orcs have taken them. I think they are not dead. Orcs bound them.'' He paused and his eyes closed wearily. After a moment he spoke again.
''Farewell, Aragorn! Go to Minas Tirith and save my people! I have failed.''
''No!'' said Aragorn, taking his hand and kissing his brow. ''You have conquered. Few have gained such a victory. Be at peace! Minas Tirith shall not fall!''
Boromir smiled.
''Which way did they go? Was Frodo there?'' said Aragorn.
But Boromir did not speak again.
''Alas!'' said Aragorn. ''Thus passes the heir of Denethor, Lord of the Tower of Guard! This is a bitter end. Now the Company is all in ruin. It is I that have failed. Vain was Gandalf''s trust in me. What shall I do now? Boromir has laid it on me to go to Minas Tirith, and my heart desires it; but where are the Ring and the Bearer? How shall I find them and save the Quest from disaster?''
He knelt for a while, bent with weeping, still clasping Boromir''s hand. So it was that Legolas and Gimli found him. They came from the western slopes of the hill, silently, creeping through the trees as if they were hunting. Gimli had his axe in hand, and Legolas his long knife: all his arrows were spent. When they came into the glade they halted in amazement; and then they stood a moment with heads bowed in grief, for it seemed to them plain what had happened.
''Alas!'' said Legolas, coming to Aragorn''s side. ''We have hunted and slain many Orcs in the woods, but we should have been of more use here. We came when we heard the horn-but too late, it seems. I fear you have taken deadly hurt.''
''Boromir is dead,'' said Aragorn. ''I am unscathed, for I was not here with him. He fell defending the hobbits, while I was away upon the hill.''
''The hobbits!'' cried Gimli ''Where are they then? Where is Frodo?''
''I do not know,'' answered Aragorn wearily. ''Before he died Boromir told me that the Orcs had bound them; he did not think that they were dead. I sent him to follow Merry and Pippin; but I did not ask him if Frodo or Sam were with him: not until it was too late. All that I have done today has gone amiss. What is to be done now?''
''First we must tend the fallen,'' said Legolas. ''We cannot leave him lying like carrion among these foul Orcs.''
''But we must be swift,'' said Gimli. ''He would not wish us to linger. We must follow the Orcs, if there is hope that any of our Company are living prisoners.''
''But we do not know whether the Ring-bearer is with them or not '' said Aragorn. ''Are we to abandon him? Must we not seek him first? An evil choice is now before us!''
''Then let us do first what we must do,'' said Legolas. ''We have not the time or the tools to bury our comrade fitly, or to raise a mound over him. A cairn we might build.''
''The labour would be hard and long: there are no stones that we could use nearer than the water-side,'' said Gimli.
''Then let us lay him in a boat with his weapons, and the weapons of his vanquished foes,'' said Aragorn. ''We will send him to the Falls of Rauros and give him to Anduin. The River of Gondor will take care at least that no evil creature dishonours his bones.''
Quickly they searched the bodies of the Orcs, gathering their swords and cloven helms and shields into a heap. ''See!'' cried Aragorn. ''Here we find tokens!'' He picked out from the pile of grim weapons two knives, leaf-bladed, damasked in gold and red; and searching further he found also the sheaths, black, set with small red gems. ''No orc-tools these!'' he said. ''They were borne by the hobbits. Doubtless the Orcs despoiled them, but feared to keep the knives, knowing them for what they are: work of Westernesse, wound about with spells for the bane of Mordor. Well, now, if they still live, our friends are weaponless. I will take these things, hoping against hope, to give them back.''
''And I,'' said Legolas, ''will take all the arrows that I can find, for my quiver is empty.'' He searched in the pile and on the ground about and found not a few that were undamaged and longer in the shaft than such arrows as the Orcs were accustomed to use. He looked at them closely.
And Aragorn looked on the slain, and he said: ''Here lie many that are not folk of Mordor. Some are from the North, from the Misty Mountains, if I know anything of Orcs and their kinds. And here are others strange to me. Their gear is not after the manner of Orcs at all!''
There were four goblin-soldiers of greater stature, swart, slant-eyed, with thick legs and large hands. They were armed with short broad-bladed swords, not with the curved scimitars usual with Orcs: and they had bows of yew, in length and shape like the bows of Men. Upon their shields they bore a strange device: a small white hand in the centre of a black field; on the front of their iron helms was set an S-rune, wrought of some white metal.
''I have not seen these tokens before,'' said Aragorn. ''What do they mean?''
''S is for Sauron,'' said Gimli. ''That is easy to read.''
''Nay!'' said Legolas. ''Sauron does not use the Elf-runes.''
''Neither does he use his right name, nor permit it to be spelt or spoken,'' said Aragorn. ''And he does not use white. The Orcs in the service of Barad-dằr use the sign of the Red Eye.'' He stood for a moment in thought. ''S is for Saruman, I guess,'' he said at length. ''There is evil afoot in Isengard, and the West is no longer safe. It is as Gandalf feared: by some means the traitor Saruman has had news of our journey. It is likely too that he knows of Gandalf''s fall. Pursuers from Moria may have escaped the vigilance of Lórien, or they may have avoided that land and come to Isengard by other paths. Orcs travel fast. But Saruman has many ways of learning news. Do you remember the birds?''
''Well, we have no time to ponder riddles,'' said Gimli. ''Let us bear Boromir away!''
''But after that we must guess the riddles, if we are to choose our course rightly,'' answered Aragorn.
''Maybe there is no right choice,'' said Gimli.
Taking his axe the Dwarf now cut several branches. These they lashed together with bowstrings, and spread their cloaks upon the frame. Upon this rough bier they carried the body of their companion to the shore, together with such trophies of his last battle as they chose to send forth with him. It was only a short way, yet they found it no easy task, for Boromir was a man both tall and strong.
At the water-side Aragorn remained, watching the bier. while Legolas and Gimli hastened back on foot to Parth Galen. It was a mile or more, and it was some time before they came back, paddling two boats swiftly along the shore.
''There is a strange tale to tell!'' said Legolas. ''There are only two boats upon the bank. We could find no trace of the other.''
''Have Orcs been there?'' asked Aragorn.
''We saw no signs of them,'' answered Gimli. ''And Orcs would have taken or destroyed all the boats, and the baggage as well.''
''I will look at the ground when we come there,'' said Aragorn.
Now they laid Boromir in the middle of the boat that was to bear him away. The grey hood and elven-cloak they folded and placed beneath his head. They combed his long dark hair and arrayed it upon his shoulders. The golden belt of Lórien gleamed about his waist. His helm they set beside him, and across his lap they laid the cloven horn and the hilts and shards of his sword; beneath his feet they put the swords of his enemies. Then fastening the prow to the stern of the other boat, they drew him out into the water. They rowed sadly along the shore, and turning into the swift-running channel they passed the green sward of Parth Galen. The steep sides of Tol Brandir were glowing: it was now mid-afternoon. As they went south the fume of Rauros rose and shimmered before them, a haze of gold. The rush and thunder of the falls shook the windless air.

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

Sorrowfully they cast loose the funeral boat: there Boromir lay, restful, peaceful, gliding upon the bosom of the flowing water. The stream took him while they held their own boat back with their paddles. He floated by them, and slowly his boat departed, waning to a dark spot against the golden light; and then suddenly it vanished. Rauros roared on unchanging. The River had taken Boromir son of Denethor, and he was not seen again in Minas Tirith, standing as he used to stand upon the White Tower in the morning. But in Gondor in after-days it long was said that the elven-boat rode the falls and the foaming pool, and bore him down through Osgiliath, and past the many mouths of Anduin, out into the Great Sea at night under the stars.
For a while the three companions remained silent, gazing after him. Then Aragorn spoke. ''They will look for him from the White Tower,'' he said, ''but he will not return from mountain or from sea.'' Then slowly he began to sing:

Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows
The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes.
''What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight?
Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?''
''I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey;
I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away
Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more.
The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor.''
''O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar,
But you came not from the empty lands where no men are.''
​

Then Legolas sang:

From the mouths of the Sea the South Wind flies, from the sandhills and the stones;
The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans.
''What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve?
Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve.''
''Ask not of me where he doth dwell-so many bones there lie
On the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky;
So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing Sea.
Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!''
''O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward road runs south,
But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey sea''s mouth.''
​

Then Aragorn sang again:

From the Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, and past the roaring falls;
And clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls.
''What news from the North, O mighty wind, do you bring to me today?
What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away.''
''Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought.
His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought.
His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest;
And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast.''
''O Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze
To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days.''
​

So they ended. Then they turned their boat and drove it with all the speed they could against the stream back to Parth Galen.
''You left the East Wind to me,'' said Gimli, ''but I will say naught of it.''
''That is as it should be,'' said Aragorn. ''In Minas Tirith they endure the East Wind, but they do not ask it for tidings. But now Boromir has taken his road. and we must make haste to choose our own.''
He surveyed the green lawn, quickly but thoroughly, stooping often to the earth. ''The Orcs have been on this ground,'' he said. ''Otherwise nothing can be made out for certain. All our footprints are here, crossing and re-crossing. I cannot tell whether any of the hobbits have come back since the search for Frodo began.'' He returned to the bank, close to where the rill from the spring trickled out into the River. ''There are some clear prints here,'' he said. ''A hobbit waded out into the water and back; but I cannot say how long ago.''
''How then do you read this riddle?'' asked Gimli.
Aragorn did not answer at once, but went back to the camping-place and looked at the baggage. ''Two packs are missing.'' he said, ''and one is certainly Sam''s: it was rather large and heavy. This then is the answer: Frodo has gone by boat, and his servant has gone with him. Frodo must have returned while we were all away. I met Sam going up the hill and told him to follow me; but plainly he did not do so. He guessed his master s mind and came back here before Frodo had gone. He did not find it easy to leave Sam behind!''
''But why should he leave us behind, and without a word?'' said Gimli. ''That was a strange deed!''
''And a brave deed,'' said Aragorn. ''Sam was right, I think. Frodo did not wish to lead any friend to death with him in Mordor. But he knew that he must go himself. Something happened after he left us that overcame his fear and doubt.''
''Maybe hunting Orcs came on him and he fled,'' said Legolas.
''He fled, certainly,'' said Aragorn, ''but not, I think, from Orcs.'' What he thought was the cause of Frodo''s sudden resolve and flight Aragorn did not say. The last words of Boromir he long kept secret.
''Well, so much at least is now clear,'' said Legolas: ''Frodo is no longer on this side of the River: only he can have taken the boat. And Sam is with him; only he would have taken his pack.''
''Our choice then,'' said Gimli, ''is either to take the remaining boat and follow Frodo, or else to follow the Orcs on foot. There is little hope either way. We have already lost precious hours.''
''Let me think!'' said Aragorn. ''And now may I make a right choice and change the evil fate of this unhappy day!'' He stood silent for a moment. ''I will follow the Orcs,'' he said at last. ''I would have guided Frodo to Mordor and gone with him to the end; but if I seek him now in the wilderness, I must abandon the captives to torment and death. My heart speaks clearly at last: the fate of the Bearer is in my hands no longer. The Company has played its part. Yet we that remain cannot forsake our companions while we have strength left. Come! We will go now. Leave all that can be spared behind! We will press on by day and dark!''
They drew up the last boat and carried it to the trees. They laid beneath it such of their goods as they did not need and could not carry away. Then they left Parth Galen. The afternoon was fading as they came back to the glade where Boromir had fallen. There they picked up the trail of the Orcs. It needed little skill to find.
''No other folk make such a trampling,'' said Legolas. ''It seems their delight to slash and beat down growing things that are not even in their way.''
''But they go with a great speed for all that,'' said Aragorn, ''and they do not tire. And later we may have to search for our path in hard bare lands.''
''Well, after them!'' said Gimli. ''Dwarves too can go swiftly, and they do not tire sooner than Orcs. But it will be a long chase: they have a long start.''
''Yes,'' said Aragorn, ''we shall all need the endurance of Dwarves. But come! With hope or without hope we will follow the trail of our enemies. And woe to them, if we prove the swifter! We will make such a chase as shall be accounted a marvel among the Three Kindreds à Elves. Dwarves, and Men. Forth the Three Hunters!''
Like a deer he sprang away. Through the trees he sped. On and on he led them, tireless and swift, now that his mind was at last made up. The woods about the lake they left behind. Long slopes they climbed, dark, hard-edged against the sky already red with sunset. Dusk came. They passed away, grey shadows in a stony land.

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

Chapter 2
The Riders of Rohan​

Dusk deepened. Mist lay behind them among the trees below, and brooded on the pale margins of the Anduin, but the sky was clear. Stars came out. The waxing moon was riding in the West, and the shadows of the rocks were black. They had come to the feet of stony hills, and their pace was slower, for the trail was no longer easy to follow. Here the highlands of the Emyn Muil ran from North to South in two long tumbled ridges. The western side of each ridge was steep and difficult, but the eastward slopes were gentler, furrowed with many gullies and narrow ravines. All night the three companions scrambled in this bony land, climbing to the crest of the first and tallest ridge, and down again into the darkness of a deep winding valley on the other side.
There in the still cool hour before dawn they rested for a brief space. The moon had long gone down before them, the stars glittered above them; the first light of day had not yet come over the dark hills behind. For the moment Aragorn was at a loss: the orc-trail had descended into the valley, but there it had vanished.
''Which way would they turn, do you think?'' said Legolas. ''Northward to take a straighter road to Isengard, or Fangorn, if that is their aim as you guess? Or southward to strike the Entwash?''
''They will not make for the river, whatever mark they aim at'''' said Aragorn. ''And unless there is much amiss in Rohan and the power of Saruman is greatly increased; they will take the shortest way that they can find over the fields of the Rohirrim. Let us search northwards!''
The dale ran like a stony trough between the ridged hills, and a trickling stream flowed among the boulders at the bottom. A cliff frowned upon their right; to their left rose grey slopes, dim and shadowy in the late night. They went on for a mile or more northwards. Aragorn was searching. bent towards the ground, among the folds and gullies leading up into the western ridge. Legolas was some way ahead. Suddenly the Elf gave a cry and the others came running towards him.
''We have already overtaken some of those that we are hunting,'' he said. ''Look!'' He pointed, and they saw that what they had at first taken to be boulders lying at the foot of the slope were huddled bodies. Five dead Orcs lay there. They had been hewn with many cruel strokes, and two had been beheaded. The ground was wet with their dark blood.
''Here is another riddle!'' said Gimli. ''But it needs the light of day and for that we cannot wait.''
''Yet however you read it, it seems not unhopeful,'' said Legolas. ''Enemies of the Orcs are likely to be our friends. Do any folk dwell in these hills?''
''No,'' said Aragorn. ''The Rohirrim seldom come here, and it is far from Minas Tirith. It might be that some company of Men were hunting here for reasons that we do not know. Yet I think not.''
''What do you think?'' said Gimli.
''I think that the enemy brought his own enemy with him,'' answered Aragorn. ''These are Northern Orcs from far away. Among the slain are none of the great Orcs with the strange badges. There was a quarrel, I guess: it is no uncommon thing with these foul folk. Maybe there was some dispute about the road.''
''Or about the captives,'' said Gimli. ''Let us hope that they, too, did not meet their end here.''
Aragorn searched the ground in a wide circle, but no other traces of the fight could be found. They went on. Already the eastward sky was turning pale; the stars were fading, and a grey light was slowly growing. A little further north they came to a fold in which a tiny stream, falling and winding, had cut a stony path down into the valley. In it some bushes grew, and there were patches of grass upon its sides.
''At last!'' said Aragorn. ''Here are the tracks that we seek! Up this water-channel: this is the way that the Orcs went after their debate.''
Swiftly now the pursuers turned and followed the new path. As if fresh from a night''s rest they sprang from stone to stone. At last they reached the crest of the grey hill, and a sudden breeze blew in their hair and stirred their cloaks: the chill wind of dawn.
Turning back they saw across the River the far hills kindled. Day leaped into the sky. The red rim of the sun rose over the shoulders of the dark land. Before them in the West the world lay still, formless and grey; but even as they looked, the shadows of night melted, the colours of the waking earth returned: green flowed over the wide meads of Rohan; the white mists shimmered in the watervales; and far off to the left, thirty leagues or more, blue and purple stood the White Mountains, rising into peaks of jet, tipped with glimmering snows, flushed with the rose of morning.
''Gondor! Gondor!'' cried Aragorn. ''Would that I looked on you again in happier hour! Not yet does my road lie southward to your bright streams.

Gondor! Gondor, between the Mountains and the Sea!
West Wind blew there; the light upon the Silver Tree
Fell like bright rain in gardens of the Kings of old.
O proud walls! White towers! O winged crown and throne of gold!
O Gondor, Gondor! Shall Men behold the Silver Tree,
Or West Wind blow again between the Mountains and the Sea?​

Now let us go!'' he said, drawing his eyes away from the South, and looking out west and north to the way that he must tread.
The ridge upon which the companions stood went down steeply before their feet. Below it twenty fathoms or more, there was a wide and rugged shelf which ended suddenly in the brink of a sheer cliff: the East Wall of Rohan. So ended the Emyn Muil, and the green plains of the Rohirrim stretched away before them to the edge of sight.
''Look!'' cried Legolas, pointing up into the pale sky above them. ''There is the eagle again! He is very high. He seems to be flying now away, from this land back to the North. He is going with great speed. Look!''
''No, not even my eyes can see him, my good Legolas,'' said Aragorn. ''He must be far aloft indeed. I wonder what is his errand, if he is the same bird that I have seen before. But look! I can see something nearer at hand and more urgent; there is something moving over the plain!''
''Many things,'' said Legolas. ''It is a great company on foot; but I cannot say more, nor see what kind of folk they may be. They are many leagues away: twelve, I guess; but the flatness of the plain is hard to measure.''
''I think, nonetheless, that we no longer need any trail to tell us which way to go,'' said Gimli. ''Let us find a path down to the fields as quick as may be.''
''I doubt if you will find a path quicker than the one that the Orcs chose,'' said Aragorn.
They followed their enemies now by the clear light of day. It seemed that the Orcs had pressed on with all possible speed. Every now and again the pursuers found things that had been dropped or cast away: food-bags, the rinds and crusts of hard grey bread. a torn black cloak, a heavy iron-nailed shoe broken on the stones. The trail led them north along the top of the escarpment, and at length they came to a deep cleft carved in the rock by a stream that splashed noisily down. In the narrow ravine a rough path descended like a steep stair into the plain.
At the bottom they came with a strange suddenness on the grass of Rohan. It swelled like a green sea up to the very foot of the Emyn Muil. The falling stream vanished into a deep growth of cresses and water-plants, and they could hear it tinkling away in green tunnels, down long gentle slopes towards the fens of Entwash Vale far away. They seemed to have left winter clinging to the hills behind. Here the air was softer and warmer, and faintly scented, as if spring was already stirring and the sap was flowing again in herb and leaf. Legolas took a deep breath, like one that drinks a great draught after long thirst in barren places.
''Ah! the green smell!'' he said. ''It is better than much sleep. Let us run!''

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

''Light feet may run swiftly here,'' said Aragorn. ''More swiftly, maybe, than iron-shod Orcs. Now we have a chance to lessen their lead!''
They went in single file, running like hounds on a strong scent, and an eager light was in their eyes. Nearly due west the broad swath of the marching Orcs tramped its ugly slot; the sweet grass of Rohan had been bruised and blackened as they passed. Presently Aragorn gave a cry and turned aside. ''Stay!'' he shouted. ''Do not follow me yet!'' He ran quickly to the right, away from the main trail; for he had seen footprints that went that way, branching off from the others, the marks of small unshod feet. These, however, did not go far before they were crossed by orc-prints, also coming out from the main trail behind and in front, and then they curved sharply back again and were lost in the trampling. At the furthest point Aragorn stooped and picked up something from the grass; then he ran back.
''Yes,'' he said, ''they are quite plain: a hobbit''s footprints. Pippin''s I think. He is smaller than the other. And look at this! He held up a thing that glittered in the sunlight. It looked like the new-opened leaf of a beech-tree, fair and strange in that treeless plain.
''The brooch of an elven-cloak!'' cried Legolas and Gimli together.
''Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall,'' said Aragorn. ''This did not drop by chance: it was cast away as a token to any that might follow. I think Pippin ran away from the trail for that purpose.''
''Then he at least was alive,'' said Gimli. ''And he had the use of his wits, and of his legs too. That is heartening. We do not pursue in vain.''
''Let us hope that he did not pay too dearly for his boldness,'' said Legolas. ''Come! Let us go on! The thought of those merry young folk driven like cattle burns my heart.''
The sun climbed to the noon and then rode slowly down the sky. Light clouds came up out of the sea in the distant South and were blown away upon the breeze. The sun sank. Shadows rose behind and reached out long arms from the East. Still the hunters held on. One day now had passed since Boromir fell, and the Orcs were yet far ahead. No longer could any sight of them be seen in the level plains.
As nightshade was closing about them Aragorn halted. Only twice in the day''s march had they rested for a brief while, and twelve leagues now lay between them and the eastern wall where they had stood at dawn.
''We have come at last to a hard choice,'' he said. ''Shall we rest by night, or shall we go on while our will and strength hold?''
''Unless our enemies rest also, they will leave us far behind, if we stay to sleep.'' said Legolas. ''Surely even Orcs must pause on the march?'' said Gimli. ''Seldom will Orcs journey in the open under the sun. yet these have done so,'' said Legolas. ''Certainly they will not rest by night.''
''But if we walk by night, we cannot follow their trail,'' said Gimli.
''The trail is straight, and turns neither right nor left, as far as my eyes can see,'' said Legolas.
''Maybe, I could lead you at guess in the darkness and hold to the line,'' said Aragorn; ''but if we strayed, or they turned aside, then when light came there might be long delay before the trail was found again.''
''And there is this also,'' said Gimli: ''only by day can we see if any tracks lead away. If a prisoner should escape, or if one should be carried off, eastward, say, to the Great River, towards Mordor, we might pass the signs and never know it.''
''That is true,'' said Aragorn. ''But if I read the signs back yonder rightly, the Orcs of the White Hand prevailed, and the whole company is now bound for Isengard. Their present course bears me out.''
''Yet it would be rash to be sure of their counsels,'' said Gimli. ''And what of escape? In the dark we should have passed the signs that led you to the brooch.''
''The Orcs will be doubly on their guard since then, and the prisoners even wearier,'' said Legolas. ''There will be no escape again, if we do not contrive it. How that is to be done cannot be guessed, but first we must overtake them.''
''And yet even I, Dwarf of many journeys, and not the least hardy of my folk, cannot run all the way to Isengard without any pause '' said Gimli. ''My heart burns me too, and I would have started sooner but now I must rest a little to run the better. And if we rest, then the blind night is the time to do so.''
''I said that it was a hard choice,'' said Aragorn. ''How shall we end this debate?''
''You are our guide,'' said Gimli, ''and you are skilled in the chase. You shall choose.''
''My heart bids me go on,'' said Legolas. ''But we must hold together. I will follow your counsel.''
''You give the choice to an ill chooser,'' said Aragorn. ''Since we passed through the Argonath my choices have gone amiss.'' He fell silent gazing north and west into the gathering night for a long while.
''We will not walk in the dark,'' he said at length. ''The peril of missing the trail or signs of other coming and going seems to me the greater. If the Moon gave enough light, we would use it, but alas! he sets early and is yet young and pale.''
''And tonight he is shrouded anyway,'' Gimli murmured. ''Would that the Lady had given us a light, such a gift as she gave to Frodo!''
''It will be more needed where it is bestowed,'' said Aragorn. ''With him lies the true Quest. Ours is but a small matter in the great deeds of this time. A vain pursuit from its beginning, maybe, which no choice of mine can mar or mend. Well, I have chosen. So let us use the time as best we may!''
He cast himself on the ground and fell at once into sleep, for he had not slept since their night under the shadow of Tol Brandir. Before dawn was in the sky he woke and rose. Gimli was still deep in slumber, but Legolas was standing, gazing northwards into the darkness, thoughtful and silent as a young tree in a windless night.
''They are far far away,'' he said sadly, turning to Aragorn. ''I know in my heart that they have not rested this night. Only an eagle could overtake them now.''
''Nonetheless we will still follow as we may,'' said Aragorn. Stooping he roused the Dwarf. ''Come! We must go,'' he said. ''The scent is growing cold.''
''But it is still dark,'' said Gimli. ''Even Legolas on a hill-top could not see them till the Sun is up.''
''I fear they have passed beyond my sight from hill or plain, under moon or sun,'' said Legolas.
''Where sight fails the earth may bring us rumour,'' said Aragorn. ''The land must groan under their hated feet.'' He stretched himself upon the ground with his ear pressed against the turf. He lay there motionless, for so long a time that Gimli wondered if he had swooned or fallen asleep again. Dawn came glimmering, and slowly a grey light grew about them. At last he rose, and now his friends could see his face: it was pale and drawn, and his look was troubled.
''The rumour of the earth is dim and confused,'' he said. ''Nothing walks upon it for many miles about us. Faint and far are the feet of our enemies. But loud are the hoofs of the horses. It comes to my mind that I heard them, even as I lay on the ground in sleep, and they troubled my dreams: horses galloping, passing in the West. But now they are drawing ever further from us, riding northward. I wonder what is happening in this land!''
''Let us go!'' said Legolas.
So the third day of their pursuit began. During all its long hours of cloud and fitful sun they hardly paused, now striding, now running, as if no weariness could quench the fire that burned them. They seldom spoke. Over the wide solitude they passed and their elven-cloaks faded against the background of the grey-green fields; even in the cool sunlight of mid-day few but elvish eyes would have marked them, until they were close at hand. Often in their hearts they thanked the Lady of Lórien for the gift of lembas, for they could eat of it and find new strength even as they ran.
All day the track of their enemies led straight on, going north-west without a break or turn. As once again the day wore to its end they came to long treeless slopes, where the land rose, swelling up towards a line of low humpbacked downs ahead. The orc-trail grew fainter as it bent north towards them, for the ground became harder and the grass shorter. Far away to the left the river Entwash wound, a silver thread in a green floor. No moving thing could be seen. Often Aragorn wondered that they saw no sign of beast or man. The dwellings of the Rohirrim were for the most part many leagues away to the South, under the wooded eaves of the White Mountains, now hidden in mist and cloud; yet the Horse-lords had formerly kept many herds and studs in the Eastemnet, this easterly region of their realm, and there the herdsmen had wandered much, living in camp and tent, even in winter-time. But now all the land was empty, and there was silence that did not seem to be the quiet of peace.
At dusk they halted again. Now twice twelve leagues they had passed over the plains of Rohan and the wall of the Emyn Muil was lost in the shadows of the East. The young moon was glimmering in a misty sky, but it gave small light, and the stars were veiled.
''Now do I most grudge a time of rest or any halt in our chase '' said Legolas. ''The Orcs have run before us, as if the very whips of Sauron were behind them. I fear they have already reached the forest and the dark hills, and even now are passing into the shadows of the trees.''
Gimli ground his teeth. ''This is a bitter end to our hope and to all our toil!'' he said.
''To hope, maybe, but not to toil,'' said Aragorn. ''We shall not turn back here. Yet I am weary.'' He gazed back along the way that they had come towards the night gathering in the East. ''There is something strange at work in this land. I distrust the silence. I distrust even the pale Moon. The stars are faint; and I am weary as I have seldom been before, weary as no Ranger should be with a clear trail to follow. There is some will that lends speed to our foes and sets an unseen barrier before us: a weariness that is in the heart more than in the limb.''
''Truly!'' said Legolas. ''That I have known since first we came down from the Emyn Muil. For the will is not behind us but before us.'' He pointed away over the land of Rohan into the darkling West under the sickle moon. ''Saruman!'' muttered Aragorn. ''But he shall not turn us back! Halt we must once more; for, see! even the Moon is falling into gathering cloud. But north lies our road between down and fen when day returns.''
As before Legolas was first afoot, if indeed he had ever slept. ''Awake! Awake!'' he cried. ''It is a red dawn. Strange things await us by the eaves of the forest. Good or evil, I do not know; but we are called. Awake!''
The others sprang up, and almost at once they set off again. Slowly the downs drew near. It was still an hour before noon when they reached them: green slopes rising to bare ridges that ran in a line straight towards the North. At their feet the ground was dry and the turf short, but a long strip of sunken land, some ten miles wide, lay between them and the river wandering deep in dim thickets of reed and rush. Just to the West of the southernmost slope there was a great ring, where the turf had been torn and beaten by many trampling feet. From it the orc-trail ran out again, turning north along the dry skirts of the hills. Aragorn halted and examined the tracks closely.
''They rested here a while,'' he said, ''but even the outward trail is already old. I fear that your heart spoke truly, Legolas: it is thrice twelve hours, I guess, since the Orcs stood where we now stand. If they held to their pace, then at sundown yesterday they would reach the borders of Fangorn.''
''I can see nothing away north or west but grass dwindling into mist,'' said Gimli. ''Could we see the forest, if we climbed the hills?''
''It is still far away,'' said Aragorn. ''If I remember rightly, these downs run eight leagues or more to the north, and then north-west to the issuing of the Entwash there lies still a wide land. another fifteen leagues it may be.''
''Well, let us go on,'' said Gimli. ''My legs must forget the miles. They would be more willing, if my heart were less heavy.''
The sun was sinking when at last they drew near to the end of the line of downs. For many hours they had marched without rest. They were going slowly now, and Gimli''s back was bent. Stone-hard are the Dwarves in labour or journey, but this endless chase began to tell on him, as all hope failed in his heart. Aragorn walked behind him, grim and silent, stooping now and again to scan some print or mark upon the ground. Only Legolas still stepped as lightly as ever, his feet hardly seeming to press the grass. leaving no footprints as he passed; but in the waybread of the Elves he found all the sustenance that he needed, and he could sleep, if sleep it could be called by Men, resting his mind in the strange paths of elvish dreams, even as he walked open-eyed in the light of this world.
''Let us go up on to this green hill!'' he said. Wearily they followed him, climbing the long slope, until they came out upon the top. It was a round hill smooth and bare, standing by itself, the most northerly of the downs. The sun sank and the shadows of evening fell like a curtain. They were alone in a grey formless world without mark or measure. Only far away north-west there was a deeper darkness against the dying light: the Mountains of Mist and the forest at their feet.
''Nothing can we see to guide us here,'' said Gimli. ''Well, now we must halt again and wear the night away. It is growing cold!''
''The wind is north from the snows,'' said Aragorn.
''And ere morning it will be in the East,'' said Legolas. ''But rest if you must. Yet do not cast all hope away. Tomorrow is unknown. Rede oft is found at the rising of the Sun.''
''Three suns already have risen on our chase and brought no counsel '' said Gimli.
The night grew ever colder. Aragorn and Gimli slept fitfully, and whenever they awoke they saw Legolas standing beside them, or walking to and fro, singing softly to himself in his own tongue, and as he sang the white stars opened in the hard black vault above. So the night passed. Together they watched the dawn grow slowly in the sky, now bare and cloudless, until at last the sunrise came. It was pale and clear. The wind was in the East and all the mists had rolled away; wide lands lay bleak about them in the bitter light.
Ahead and eastward they saw the windy uplands of the Wold of Rohan that they had already glimpsed many days ago from the Great River. North-westward stalked the dark forest of Fangorn; still ten leagues away stood its shadowy eaves, and its further slopes faded into the distant blue. Beyond there glimmered far away, as if floating on a grey cloud, the white head of tall Methedras, the last peak of the Misty Mountains. Out of the forest the Entwash flowed to meet them, its stream now swift and narrow, and its banks deep-cloven. The orc-trail turned from the downs towards it.
Following with his keen eyes the trail to the river, and then the river back towards the forest, Aragorn saw a shadow on the distant green, a dark swift-moving blur. He cast himself upon the ground and listened again intently. But Legolas stood beside him, shading his bright elven-eyes with his long slender hand, and he saw not a shadow, nor a blur, but the small figures of horsemen, many horsemen, and the glint of morning on the tips of their spears was like the twinkle of minute stars beyond the edge of mortal sight. Far behind them a dark smoke rose in thin curling threads.
There was a silence in the empty fields, arid Gimli could hear the air moving in the grass.
''Riders!'' cried Aragorn, springing to his feet. ''Many riders on swift steeds are coming towards us!''
''Yes,'' said Legolas, ''there are one hundred and five. Yellow is their hair, and bright are their spears. Their leader is very tall.''
Aragorn smiled. ''Keen are the eyes of the Elves,'' he said.
''Nay! The riders are little more than five leagues distant,'' said Legolas.
''Five leagues or one,'' said Gimli; ''we cannot escape them in this bare land. Shall we wait for them here or go on our way?''
''We will wait,'' said Aragorn. ''I am weary, and our hunt has failed. Or at least others were before us; for these horsemen are riding back down the orc-trail. We may get new s from them.''
''Or spears,'' said Gimli.
''There are three empty saddles, but I see no hobbits,'' said Legolas.
''I did not say that we should hear good news,'' said Aragorn. ''But evil or good we will await it here.''

...until the heart betrays​

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