Властелин колец: Братство кольца
Fog on the Barrow-Downs
Thereonthehill-browshestoodbeckoningtothem:herhairwasflyingloose,andasitcaughtthesunitshoneandshimmered.Alightliketheglintofwaterondewygrassflashedfromunderherfeetasshedanced.
Theyhastenedupthelastslope,andstoodbreathlessbesideher.Theybowed,butwithawaveofherarmshebadethemlookround;andtheylookedoutfromthehill-topoverlandsunderthemorning.Itwasnowasclearandfar-seenasithadbeenveiledandmistywhentheystoodupontheknollintheForest,whichcouldnowbeseenrisingpaleandgreenoutofthedarktreesintheWest.Inthatdirectionthelandroseinwoodedridges,green,yellow,russetunderthesun,beyondwhichlayhiddenthevalleyoftheBrandywine.TotheSouth,overthelineoftheWithywindle,therewasadistantglintlikepaleglasswheretheBrandywineRivermadeagreatloopinthelowlandsandflowedawayoutoftheknowledgeofthehobbits.Northwardbeyondthedwindlingdownsthelandranawayinflatsandswellingsofgreyandgreenandpaleearth-colours,untilitfadedintoafeaturelessandshadowydistance.EastwardtheBarrow-downsrose,ridgebehindridgeintothemorning,andvanishedoutofeyesightintoaguess:itwasnomorethanaguessofblueandaremotewhiteglimmerblendingwiththehemofthesky,butitspoketothem,outofmemoryandoldtales,ofthehighanddistantmountains.
Theytookadeepdraughtoftheair,andfeltthataskipandafewstoutstrideswouldbearthemwherevertheywished.
