Book IV
The Taming of Sméagol
’Well,master,we’reinafixandnomistake,’saidSamGamgee.HestooddespondentlywithhunchedshouldersbesideFrodo,andpeeredoutwithpuckeredeyesintothegloom.
ItwasthethirdeveningsincetheyhadfledfromtheCompany,asfarastheycouldtell:theyhadalmostlostcountofthehoursduringwhichtheyhadclimbedandlabouredamongthebarrenslopesandstonesoftheEmynMuil,sometimesretracingtheirstepsbecausetheycouldfindnowayforward,sometimesdiscoveringthattheyhadwanderedinacirclebacktowheretheyhadbeenhoursbefore.Yetonthewholetheyhadworkedsteadilyeastward,keepingasnearastheycouldfindawaytotheouteredgeofthisstrangetwistedknotofhills.Butalwaystheyfounditsoutwardfacessheer,highandimpassable,frowningovertheplainbelow;beyonditstumbledskirtslaylividfesteringmarsheswherenothingmovedandnotevenabirdwastobeseen.
Thehobbitsstoodnowonthebrinkofatallcliff,bareandbleak,itsfeetwrappedinmist;andbehindthemrosethebrokenhighlandscrownedwithdriftingcloud.Achillwind`blewfromtheEast.Nightwasgatheringovertheshapelesslandsbeforethem;thesicklygreenofthemwasfadingtoasullenbrown.FarawaytotherighttheAnduin,thathadgleamedfitfullyinsun-breaksduringtheday,wasnowhiddeninshadow.ButtheireyesdidnotlookbeyondtheRiver,backtoGondor,totheirfriends,tothelandsofMen.Southandeasttheystaredtowhere,attheedgeoftheoncomingnight,adarklinehung,likedistantmountainsofmotionlesssmoke.
