Властелин колец: Братство кольца
Flight to the Ford
TheRoadwasstillrunningsteadilydownhill,andtherewasnowinplacesmuchgrassateitherside,inwhichthehobbitswalkedwhentheycould,toeasetheirtiredfeet.InthelateafternoontheycametoaplacewheretheRoadwentsuddenlyunderthedarkshadowoftallpine-trees,andthenplungedintoadeepcuttingwithsteepmoistwallsofredstone.Echoesranalongastheyhurriedforward;andthereseemedtobeasoundofmanyfootfallsfollowingtheirown.Allatonce,asifthroughagateoflight,theRoadranoutagainfromtheendofthetunnelintotheopen.Thereatthebottomofasharpinclinetheysawbeforethemalongflatmile,andbeyondthattheFordofRivendell.Onthefurthersidewasasteepbrownbank,threadedbyawindingpath;andbehindthatthetallmountainsclimbed,shoulderaboveshoulder,andpeakbeyondpeak,intothefadingsky.
Therewasstillanechoasoffollowingfeetinthecuttingbehindthem;arushingnoiseasifawindwererisingandpouringthroughthebranchesofthepines.OnemomentGlorfindelturnedandlistened,thenhesprangforwardwithaloudcry.
‘Fly!’hecalled.‘Fly!
Theenemyisuponus!’Thewhitehorseleapedforward.Thehobbitsrandowntheslope.GlorfindelandStriderfollowedasrearguard.Theywereonlyhalfwayacrosstheflat,whensuddenlytherewasanoiseofhorsesgalloping.OutofthegateinthetreesthattheyhadjustleftrodeaBlackRider.Hereinedhishorsein,andhalted,swayinginhissaddle.Anotherfollowedhim,andthenanother;thenagaintwomore.
