Властелин колец: Братство кольца
A Knife in the Dark
ThehobbitsthoughtofthesoftlightofsunsetglancingthroughthecheerfulwindowsofBagEndfaraway.
Attheday’sendtheycametoastreamthatwandereddownfromthehillstoloseitselfinthestagnantmarshland,andtheywentupalongitsbankswhilethelightlasted.Itwasalreadynightwhenatlasttheyhaltedandmadetheircampundersomestuntedalder-treesbytheshoresofthestream.Aheadthereloomednowagainsttheduskyskythebleakandtreelessbacksofthehills.Thatnighttheysetawatch,andStrider,itseemed,didnotsleepatall.Themoonwaswaxing,andintheearlynight-hoursacoldgreylightlayontheland.
Nextmorningtheysetoutagainsoonaftersunrise.Therewasafrostintheair,andtheskywasapaleclearblue.Thehobbitsfeltrefreshed,asiftheyhadhadanightofunbrokensleep.Alreadytheyweregettingusedtomuchwalkingonshortcommons–shorteratanyratethanwhatintheShiretheywouldhavethoughtbarelyenoughtokeepthemontheirlegs.PippindeclaredthatFrodowaslookingtwicethehobbitthathehadbeen.
‘Veryodd,’saidFrodo,tighteninghisbelt,‘consideringthatthereisactuallyagooddeallessofme.Ihopethethinningprocesswillnotgoonindefinitely,orIshallbecomeawraith.’
‘Donotspeakofsuchthings!’saidStriderquickly,andwithsurprisingearnestness.
Thehillsdrewnearer.Theymadeanundulatingridge,oftenrisingalmosttoathousandfeet,andhereandtherefallingagaintolowcleftsorpassesleadingintotheeasternlandbeyond.
