above them, and as it mounted it bent over their heads until it became a roof. They felt as if a trap was
closing about them. They packed up as quickly as their chilled fingers would work.
Soon they were leading their ponies in single file
9
over the rim and down the long northward slope of the
hill, down into a foggy sea. As they went down the mist became colder and damper, and their hair hung lank
and dripping on their foreheads. When they reached the bottom it was so cold that they halted and got out
cloaks and hoods, which soon became bedewed with grey drops. Then, mounting their ponies, they went
slowly on again. To prevent their getting separated and wandering in different directions they went in file,
with Frodo leading. Suddenly Frodo saw a hopeful sign. On either side ahead a darkness began to loom
through the mist; and he guessed that they were at last approaching the gap in the hills. 'Come on! Follow
me!' he called back over his shoulder, and he hurried forward. His pony reared, and he fell off. When he
looked back he found that he was alone: the others had not followed him.
'Sam!' he called. 'Pippin! Merry! Come along! Why don't you keep up?'
10
There was no answer. Fear took him, and he ran back. As he struggled on he called again, and kept on
calling more and more frantically. He was weary, sweating and yet chilled. It was wholly dark.
'Where are you?' he cried out miserably.
There was no reply. He stood listening. He was suddenly aware that it was getting very cold, and that up
here a wind was beginning to blow, an icy wind. A change was coming in the weather. The mist was flowing
past him in shreds and tatters. His breath was smoking.
11
He looked up and saw with surprise that faint stars
were appearing overhead amid the strands of hurrying cloud and fog. Oat of the east the biting wind was
blowing.
'Where are you?' he cried again, both angry and afraid.
'Here!' said a voice, deep and cold, that seemed to come out of the ground. 'I am waiting for you!'
'No!' said Frodo; but he did not run away. His knees gave,
12
and he fell on the ground. Nothing happened,
and there was no sound. Trembling he looked up in time to see a tall dark figure like a shadow against the
stars. It leaned over him. He thought there were two eyes, very cold though lit with a pale light that seemed
to come from some remote distance. Then a grip stronger and colder than iron seized him. The icy touch
froze his bones, and he remembered no more.
When he came to himself again, for a moment he could recall nothing except a sense of dread. Then
suddenly he knew that he was imprisoned, caught hopelessly; he was in a barrow. A Barrow-wight had taken
him, and he was probably already under the dreadful spells of the Barrow-wights about which whispered
tales spoke. Hedared not move, but lay as he found himself: flat on his back upon a cold stone with his hands
on his breast.
As he lay there, thinking and getting a hold on himself, he noticed all at once that the darkness was slowly
giving way:
13
a pale greenish light was growing round him. He turned, and there in the cold glow he saw
lying beside him Sam, Pippin, and Merry.
There was a loud rumbling sound, as of stones rolling and falling, and suddenly light streamed in. A low
door-like opening appeared at the end of the chamber beyond Frodo's feet; and there was Tom's head against
the light of the sun rising red behind him.
'Come, friend Frodo!' said Tom. 'Let us get out on to the clean grass! You must help me bear them.'
Together they carried out Merry, Pippin and Sam. To Frodo's great joy the hobbits stirred, robbed their eyes,
and then suddenly sprang up. They looked about in amazement. 'What in the name of wonder?
14
began
Merry. 'Where did you get to, Frodo?'
'I thought that I was lost', said Frodo; 'but I don't want to speak of it.' But Tom shook his head, saying: 'Be
glad, my merry friends, and let the warm sunlight heat now heart and limb! Cast off these cold rags! Run
naked on the grass!'
The air was growing very warm again. The hobbits ran about for a while on the grass. Then they lay
basking in the sun with the delight of those that have been wafted suddenly from bitter winter to a friendly
clime, or of people that, after being long ill, wake one day to find that they are unexpectedly well and the
day is again full of promise.
Proper Names
John Ronald Reuel Tolkien ['n 'rnld 'rl tlkn] — Джон Роналд Руэл Толкин
Barrow-downs [br,danz] — Курганы (Прим.: в тексте — место захоронения древних королей)
Frodo [frd] — Фродо
Torn [tm] — Том
Sam [sm] — Сэм