The Fellowship Of The Ring - Chapter 21 - The Breaking of the Fellowship

 Aragorn led them to the right arm of the River. Here upon its western
side under the shadow of Tol Brandir a green lawn ran down to the water from
the feet of Amon Hen. Behind it rose the first gentle slopes of the hill
clad with trees, and trees marched away westward along the curving shores of
the lake. A little spring fell tumbling down and fed the grass.
'Here we will rest tonight,' said Aragorn. `This is the lawn of Parth
Galen: a fair place in the summer days of old. Let us hope that no evil has
yet come here.'
They drew up their boats on the green banks, and beside them they made
their camp. They set a watch, but had no sight nor sound of their enemies.
If Gollum had contrived to follow them, he remained unseen and unheard.
Nonetheless as the night wore on Aragorn grew uneasy, tossing often in his
sleep and waking. In the small hours he got up and came to Frodo, whose turn
it was to watch.
`Why are you waking? ' asked Frodo. `It is not your watch.'
`I do not know,' answered Aragorn; `but a shadow and a threat has been
growing in my sleep. It would be well to draw your sword.'
`Why? ' said Frodo. `Are enemies at hand? '
`Let us see what Sting may show,' answered Aragorn.
Frodo then drew the elf-blade from its sheath. To his dismay the edges
gleamed dimly in the night. `Orcs! ' he said. `Not very near, and yet too
near, it seems.'
`I feared as much,' said Aragorn. `But maybe they are not on this side
of the River. The light of Sting is faint, and it may point to no more than
spies of Mordor roaming on the slopes of Amon Lhaw. I have never heard
before of Orcs upon Amon Hen. Yet who knows what may happen in these
evil
days, now that Minas Tirith no longer holds secure the passages of Anduin.
We must go warily tomorrow.'
The day came like fire and smoke. Low in the East there were black bars
of cloud like the fumes of a great burning. The rising sun lit them from
beneath with flames of murky red; but soon it climbed above them into a
clear sky. The summit of Tol Brandir was tipped with gold. Frodo looked out
eastward and gazed at the tall island. Its sides sprang sheer out of the
running water. High up above the tall cliffs were steep slopes upon which
trees climbed, mounting one head above another; and above them again were
grey faces of inaccessible rock, crowned by a great spire of stone. Many
birds were circling about it, but no sign of other living things could be
seen.
When they had eaten, Aragorn called the Company together. `The day has
come at last,' he said: 'the day of choice which we have long delayed. What
shall now become of our Company that has travelled so far in fellowship?
Shall we turn west with Boromir and go to the wars of Gondor; or turn east
to the Fear and Shadow; or shall we break our fellowship and go this way and
that as each may choose? Whatever we do must be done soon. We cannot
long
halt here. The enemy is on the eastern shore, we know; but I fear that the
Orcs may already be on this side of the water.'
There was a long silence in which no one spoke or moved.
'Well, Frodo,' said Aragorn at last. `I fear that the burden is laid
upon you. You are the Bearer appointed by the Council. Your own way you
alone can choose. In this matter I cannot advise you. I am not Gandalf, and
though I have tried to bear his part, I do not know what design or hope he
had for this hour, if indeed he had any. Most likely it seems that if he
were here now the choice would still wait on you. Such is your fate.'
Frodo did not answer at once. Then he spoke slowly. `I know that haste
is needed, yet I cannot choose. The burden is heavy. Give me an hour longer,
and I will speak. Let me be alone! '
Aragorn looked at him with kindly pity. `Very well, Frodo son of
Drogo,' he said. `You shall have an hour, and you shall be alone. We will
stay here for a while. But do not stray far or out of call.'
Frodo sat for a moment with his head bowed. Sam, who had been watching
his master with great concern, shook his head and muttered: 'Plain as a
pikestaff it is, but it's no good Sam Gamgee putting in his spoke just now.'
,
Presently Frodo got up and walked away; and Sam saw that while the
others restrained themselves and did not stare at him, the eyes of Boromir
followed Frodo intently, until he passed out of sight in the trees at the
foot of Amon Hen.
Wandering aimlessly at first in the wood, Frodo found that his feet
were leading him up towards the slopes of the hill. He came to a path, the
dwindling ruins of a road of long ago. In steep places stairs of stone had
been hewn, but now they were cracked and worn, and split by the roots of
trees. For some while he climbed, not caring which way he went, until he
came to a grassy place. Rowan-trees grew about it, and in the midst was a
wide flat stone. The little upland lawn was open upon the East and was
filled now with the early sunlight. Frodo halted and looked out over the
River, far below him, to Tol Brandir and the birds wheeling in the great
gulf of air between him and the untrodden isle. The voice of Rauros was a
mighty roaring mingled with a deep throbbing boom.
He sat down upon the stone and cupped his chin in his hands, staring
eastwards but seeing little with his eyes. All that had happened since Bilbo
left the Shire was passing through his mind, and he recalled and pondered
everything that he could remember of Gandalf's words. Time went on, and
still he was no nearer to a choice.
Suddenly he awoke from his thoughts: a strange feeling came to him that
something was behind him, that unfriendly eyes were upon him. He sprang up
and turned; but all that he saw to his surprise was Boromir, and his face
was smiling and kind.
`I was afraid for you, Frodo,' he said, coming forward. `If Aragorn is
right and Orcs are near, then none of us should wander alone, and you least
of all: so much depends on you. And my heart too is heavy. May I stay now
and talk for a while, since I have found you? It would comfort me. Where
there are so many, all speech becomes a debate without end. But two together
may perhaps find wisdom.'
`You are kind,' answered Frodo. 'But I do not think that any speech
will help me. For I know what I should do, but I am afraid of doing it,
Boromir: afraid.'
Boromir stood silent. Rauros roared endlessly on. The wind murmured in
the branches of the trees. Frodo shivered.
Suddenly Boromir came and sat beside him. `Are you sure that you do not
suffer needlessly? ' he said. `I wish to help you. You need counsel in your
hard choice. Will you not take mine? '
'I think I know already what counsel you would give, Boromir,' said
Frodo. 'And it would seem like wisdom but for the warning of my heart.'
`Warning? Warning against what? ' said Boromir sharply.
'Against delay. Against the way that seems easier. Against refusal of
the burden that is laid on me. Against-well, if it must be said, against
trust in the strength and truth of Men.'
`Yet that strength has long protected you far away in your little
country, though you knew it not.'
'I do not doubt the valour of your people. But the world is changing.
The walls of Minas Tirith may be strong, but they are not strong enough. If
they fail, what then? '
'We shall fall in battle valiantly. Yet there is still hope that they
will not fail.'
'No hope while the Ring lasts,' said Frodo.
'Ah! The Ring! ' said Boromir, his eyes lighting. 'The Ring! Is it not
a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt for so small a
thing? So small a thing! And I have seen it only for an instant in the House
of Elrond. Could I not have a sight of it again? '
Frodo looked up. His heart went suddenly cold. He caught the strange
gleam in Boromir's eyes, yet his face was still kind and friendly. 'It is
best that it should lie hidden,' he answered.
'As you wish. I care not,' said Boromir. 'Yet may I not even speak of
it? For you seem ever to think only of its power in the hands of the Enemy:
of its evil uses not of its good. The world is changing, you say. Minas
Tirith will fall, if the Ring lasts. But why? Certainly, if the Ring were
with the Enemy. But why, if it were with us? '
'Were you not at the Council? ' answered Frodo. `Because we cannot use
it, and what is done with it turns to evil.'
Boromir got up and walked about impatiently. 'So you go on,' he cried.
'Gandalf, Elrond -- all these folk have taught you to say so. For themselves
they may be right. These elves and half-elves and wizards, they would come
to grief perhaps. Yet often I doubt if they are wise and not merely timid.
But each to his own kind. True-hearted Men, they will not be corrupted. We
of Minas Tirith have been staunch through long years of trial. We do not
desire the power of wizard-lords, only strength to defend ourselves,
strength in a just cause. And behold! in our need chance brings to light the
-Ring of Power. It is a gift, I say; a gift to the foes of Mordor. It is mad
not to use it, to use the power of the Enemy against him. The fearless, the
ruthless, these alone will achieve victory. What could not a warrior do in
this hour, a great leader? What could not Aragorn do? Or if he refuses, why
not Boromir? The Ring would give me power of Command. How I would
drive the
hosts of Mordor, and all men would flock to my banner!'
Boromir strode up and down, speaking ever more loudly: Almost he seemed
to have forgotten Frodo, while his talk dwelt on walls and weapons, and the
mustering of men; and he drew plans for great alliances and glorious
victories to be; and he cast down Mordor, and became himself a mighty king,
benevolent and wise. Suddenly he stopped and waved his arms.
'And they tell us to throw it away!' he cried. `I do not say destroy
it. That might be well, if reason could show any hope of doing so. It does
not. The only plan that is proposed to us is that a halfling should walk
blindly into Mordor and offer the Enemy every chance of recapturing it for
himself. Folly!
'Surely you see it, my friend?' he said, turning now suddenly to Frodo
again. `You say that you are afraid. If it is so, the boldest should pardon
you. But is it not really your good sense that revolts?'
'No, I am afraid,' said Frodo. 'Simply afraid. But I am glad to have
heard you speak so fully. My mind is clearer now.'
`Then you will come to Minas Tirith? ' cried Boromir. His eyes were
shining and his face eager.
`You misunderstand me,' said Frodo.
'But you will come, at least for a while? ' Boromir persisted. 'My city
is not far now; and it is little further from there to Mordor than from
here. We have been long in the wilderness, and you need news of what the
Enemy is doing before you make a move. Come with me, Frodo,' he said.
`You
need rest before your venture. if go you must.' He laid his hand on the
hobbit's shoulder in friendly fashion; but Frodo felt the hand trembling
with suppressed excitement. He stepped quickly away, and eyed with alarm the
tall Man, nearly twice his height and many times his match in strength.
`Why are you so unfriendly? ' said Boromir. `I am a true man, neither
thief nor tracker. I need your Ring: that you know now; but I give you my
word that I do not desire to keep it. Will you not at least let me make
trial of my plan? Lend me the Ring! '
`No! no! ' cried Frodo. 'The Council laid it upon me to bear it.'
`It is by our own folly that the Enemy will defeat us,' cried Boromir.
`How it angers me! Fool! Obstinate fool! Running wilfully to death and
ruining our cause. If any mortals have claim to the Ring, it is the men of
N®menor, and not Halflings. It is not yours save by unhappy chance. It might
have been mine. It should be mine. Give it to me! '
Frodo did not answer, but moved away till the great flat stone stood
between them. `Come, come, my friend! ' said Boromir in a softer voice. 'Why
not get rid of it? Why not be free of your doubt and fear? You can lay the
blame on me, if you will. You can say that I was too strong and took it by
force. For I am too strong for you, halfling,' he cried; and suddenly he
sprang over the stone and leaped at Frodo. His fair and pleasant face was
hideously changed; a raging fire was in his eyes.
Frodo dodged aside and again put the stone between them. There was only
one thing he could do: trembling he pulled out the Ring upon its chain and
quickly slipped it on his finger, even as Boromir sprang at him again. The
Man gasped, stared for a moment amazed, and then ran wildly about, seeking
here and there among the rocks and trees.
'Miserable trickster!' he shouted. `Let me get my hands on you! Now I
see your mind. You will take the Ring to Sauron and sell us all. You have
only waited your chance to leave us in the lurch. Curse you and all
halflings to death and darkness! ' Then, catching his foot on a stone, he
fell sprawling and lay upon his face. For a while he was as still as if his
own curse had struck him down; then suddenly he wept.
He rose and passed his hand over his eyes, dashing away the tears.
'What have I said? ' he cried. `What have I done? Frodo, Frodo! ' he called.
'Come back! A madness took me, but it has passed. Come back! '
There was no answer. Frodo did not even hear his cries. He was already
far away, leaping blindly up the path to the hill-top. Terror and grief
shook him, seeing in his thought the mad fierce face of Boromir, and his
burning eyes.
Soon he came out alone on the summit of Amon Hen, and halted, gasping
for breath. He saw as through a mist a wide flat circle, paved with mighty
flags, and surrounded with a crumbling battlement; and in the middle, set
upon four carven pillars, was a high seat, reached by a stair of many steps.
Up he went and sat upon the ancient chair, feeling like a lost child that
had clambered upon the throne of mountain-kings.
At first he could see little. He seemed to be in a world of mist in
which there were only shadows: the Ring was upon him. Then here and there
the mist gave way and he saw many visions: small and clear as if they were
under his eyes upon a table, and yet remote. There was no sound, only bright
living images. The world seemed to have shrunk and fallen silent. He was
sitting upon the Seat of Seeing, on Amon Hen, the Hill of the Eye of the Men
of N®menor. Eastward he looked into wide uncharted lands, nameless plains,
and forests unexplored. Northward he looked, and the Great River lay like a
ribbon beneath him, and the Misty Mountains stood small and hard as broken
teeth. Westward he looked and saw the broad pastures of Rohan; and Orthanc,
the pinnacle of Isengard, like a black spike. Southward he looked, and below
his very feet the Great River curled like a toppling wave and plunged over
the falls of Rauros into a foaming pit; a glimmering rainbow played upon the
fume. And Ethir Anduin he saw, the mighty delta of the River, and myriads of
sea-birds whirling like a white dust in the sun, and beneath them a green
and silver sea, rippling in endless lines.
But everywhere he looked he saw the signs of war. The Misty Mountains
were crawling like anthills: orcs were issuing out of a thousand holes.
Under the boughs of Mirkwood there was deadly strife of Elves and Men and
fell beasts. The land of the Beornings was aflame; a cloud was over Moria;
smoke rose on the borders of Lurien.
Horsemen were galloping on the grass of Rohan; wolves poured from
Isengard. From the havens of Harad ships of war put out to sea; and out of
the East Men were moving endlessly: swordsmen, spearmen, bowmen upon
horses,
chariots of chieftains and laden wains. All the power of the Dark Lord was
in motion. Then turning south again he beheld Minas Tirith. Far away it
seemed. and beautiful: white-walled, many-towered, proud and fair upon its
mountain-seat; its battlements glittered with steel, and its turrets were
bright with many banners. Hope leaped in his heart. But against Minas Tirith
was set another fortress, greater and more strong. Thither, eastward,
unwilling his eye was drawn. It passed the ruined bridges of Osgiliath, the
grinning gates of Minas Morgul. and the haunted Mountains, and it looked
upon Gorgoroth, the valley of terror in the Land of Mordor. Darkness lay
there under the Sun. Fire glowed amid the smoke. Mount Doom was burning,
and
a great reek rising. Then at last his gaze was held: wall upon wall,
battlement upon battlement, black, immeasurably strong, mountain of iron,
gate of steel, tower of adamant, he saw it: Barad-dyr, Fortress of Sauron.
All hope left him.
And suddenly he felt the Eye. There was an eye in the Dark Tower that
did not sleep. He knew that it had become aware of his gaze. A fierce eager
will was there. It leaped towards him; almost like a finger he felt it,
searching for him. Very soon it would nail him down, know just exactly where
he was. Amon Lhaw it touched. It glanced upon Tol Brandir he threw himself
from the seat, crouching, covering his head with his grey hood.
He heard himself crying out: Never, never! Or was it: Verily I come, I
come to you? He could not tell. Then as a flash from some other point of
power there came to his mind another thought: Take it off! Take it off!
Fool, take it off! Take off the Ring!
The two powers strove in him. For a moment, perfectly balanced between
their piercing points, he writhed, tormented. Suddenly he was aware of
himself again. Frodo, neither the Voice nor the Eye: free to choose, and
with one remaining instant in which to do so. He took the Ring off his
finger. He was kneeling in clear sunlight before the high seat. A black
shadow seemed to pass like an arm above him; it missed Amon Hen and
groped
out west, and faded. Then all the sky was clean and blue and birds sang in
every tree.
Frodo rose to his feet. A great weariness was on him, but his will was
firm and his heart lighter. He spoke aloud to himself. `I will do now what I
must,' he said. 'This at least is plain: the evil of the Ring is already at
work even in the Company, and the Ring must leave them before it does more
harm. I will go alone. Some I cannot trust, and those I can trust are too
dear to me: poor old Sam, and Merry and Pippin. Strider, too: his heart
yearns for Minas Tirith, and he will be needed there, now Boromir has fallen
into evil. I will go alone. At once.'
He went quickly down the path and came back to the lawn where Boromir
had found him. Then he halted, listening. He thought he could hear cries and
calls from the woods near the shore below.
'They'll be hunting for me,' he said. `I wonder how long I have been
away. Hours, I should think.' He hesitated. 'What can I do? ' he muttered.
'I must go now or I shall never go. I shan't get a chance again. I hate
leaving them, and like this without any explanation. But surely they will
understand. Sam will. And what else can I do?'
Slowly he drew out the Ring and put it on once more. He vanished and
passed down the hill, less than a rustle of the wind.
The others remained long by the river-side. For some time they had been
silent, moving restlessly about; but now they were sitting in a circle, and
they were talking. Every now and again they made efforts to speak of other
things, of their long road and many adventures; they questioned Aragorn
concerning the realm of Gondor and its ancient history, and the remnants of
its great works that could still be seen in this strange border-land of the
Emyn Muil: the stone kings and the seats of Lhaw and Hen, and the great
Stair beside the falls of Rauros. But always their thoughts and words
strayed back to Frodo and the Ring. What would Frodo choose to do? Why
was
he hesitating?
`He is debating which course is the most desperate, I think,' said
Aragorn. 'And well he may. It is now more hopeless than ever for the Company
to go east, since we have been tracked by Gollum, and must fear that the
secret of our journey is already betrayed. But Minas Tirith is no nearer to
the Fire and the destruction of the Burden.
`We may remain there for a while and make a brave stand; but the Lord
Denethor and all his men cannot hope to do what even Elrond said was beyond
his power: either to keep the Burden secret. or to hold off the full might
of the Enemy when he comes to take it. Which way would any of us choose in
Frodo's place? I do not know. Now indeed we miss Gandalf most.'
'Grievous is our loss,' said Legolas. 'Yet we must needs make up our
minds without his aid. Why cannot we decide, and so help Frodo? Let us call
him back and then vote! I should vote for Minas Tirith.'
`And so should I,' said Gimli. 'We, of course, were only sent to help
the Bearer along the road, to go no further than we wished; and none of us
is under any oath or command to seek Mount Doom. Hard was my parting
from
Lothlurien. Yet I have come so far, and I say this: now we have reached the
last choice, it is clear to me that I cannot leave Frodo. I would choose
Minas Tirith, but if he does not, then I follow him.'
`And I too will go with him,' said Legolas. `It would be faithless now
to say farewell.'
'It would indeed be a betrayal, if we all left him,' said Aragorn. 'But
if he goes east, then all need not go with him; nor do I think that all
should. That venture is desperate: as much so for eight as for three or two,
or one alone. If you would let me choose, then I should appoint three
companions: Sam, who could not bear it otherwise; and Gimli; and myself.
Boromir will return to his own city, where his father and his people need
him; and with him the others should go, or at least Meriadoc and Peregrin,
if Legolas is not willing to leave us.'
`That won't do at all! ' cried Merry. 'We can't leave Frodo! Pippin and
I always intended to go wherever he went, and we still do. But we did not
realize what that would mean. It seemed different so far away, in the Shire
or in Rivendell. It would be mad and cruel to let Frodo go to Mordor. Why
can't we stop him?'
'We must stop him,' said Pippin. `And that is what he is worrying
about, I am sure. He knows we shan't agree to his going east. And he doesn't
like to ask anyone to go with him, poor old fellow. Imagine it: going off to
Mordor alone! ' Pippin shuddered. 'But the dear silly old hobbit, he ought
to know that he hasn't got to ask. He ought to know that if we can't stop
him, we shan't leave him.'
'Begging your pardon,' said Sam. 'I don't think you understand my
master at all. He isn't hesitating about which way to go. Of course not!
What's the good of Minas Tirith anyway? To him, I mean, begging your
pardon,
Master Boromir,' he added, and turned. It was then that they discovered that
Boromir, who at first had been sitting silent on the outside of the circle,
was no longer there.
`Now where's he got to? ' cried Sam, looking worried. 'He's been a bit
queer lately, to my mind. But anyway he's not in this business. He's off to
his home, as he always said; and no blame to him. But Mr. Frodo, he knows
he's got to find the Cracks of Doom, if he can. But he's afraid. Now it's
come to the point, he's just plain terrified. That's what his trouble is. Of
course he's had a bit of schooling, so to speak-we all have-since we left
home, or he'd be so terrified he'd just fling the Ring in the River and
bolt. But he's still too frightened to start. And he isn't worrying about us
either: whether we'll go along with him or no. He knows we mean to. That's
another thing that's bothering him. If he screws himself up to go, he'll
want to go alone. Mark my words! We're going to have trouble when he
comes
back. For he'll screw himself up all right, as sure as his name's Baggins.'
'I believe you speak more wisely than any of us, Sam,' said Aragorn.
`And what shall we do, if you prove right? '
'Stop him! Don't let him go! ' cried Pippin.
'I wonder? ' said Aragorn. `He is the Bearer, and the fate of the
Burden is on him. I do not think that it is our part to drive him one way or
the other. Nor do I think that we should succeed, if we tried. There are
other powers at work far stronger.'
`Well, I wish Frodo would "screw himself up" and come back. and let us
get it over,' said Pippin. `This waiting is horrible! Surely the time is up?
'
`Yes,' said Aragorn. 'The hour is long passed. The morning is wearing
away. We must call for him.'
At that moment Boromir reappeared. He came out from the trees and
walked towards them without speaking. His face looked grim and sad. He
paused as if counting those that were present, and then sat down aloof, with
his eyes on the ground.
`Where have you been, Boromir? ' asked Aragorn. `Have you seen Frodo? '
Boromir hesitated for a second. `Yes, and no,' he answered slowly.
`Yes: I found him some way up the hill, and I spoke to him. I urged him to
come to Minas Tirith and not to go east. I grew angry and he left me. He
vanished. I have never seen such a thing happen before. though I have heard
of it in tales. He must have put the Ring on. I could not find him again. I
thought he would return to you.'
'Is that all that you have to say? ' said Aragorn, looking hard and not
too kindly at Boromir.
`Yes,' he answered. `I will say no more yet.'
`This is bad!' cried Sam, jumping up. `I don't know what this Man has
been up to. Why should Mr. Frodo put the thing on? He didn't ought to have;
and if he has, goodness knows what may have happened!'
'But he wouldn't keep it on`' said Merry. `Not when he had escaped the
unwelcome visitor, like Bilbo used to.'
`But where did he go? Where is he? ' cried Pippin. 'He's been away ages
now.'
`How long is it since you saw Frodo last, Boromir? ' asked Aragorn.
`Half an hour, maybe,' he answered. `Or it might be an hour. I have
wandered for some time since. I do not know! I do not know! ' He put his
head in his hands, and sat as if bowed with grief.
`An hour since he vanished! ' shouted Sam. `We must try and find him at
once. Come on! '
`Wait a moment! ' cried Aragorn. `We must divide up into pairs, and
arrange-here, hold on! Wait! '
It was no good. They took no notice of him. Sam had dashed off first.
Merry and Pippin had followed, and were already disappearing westward into
the trees by the shore, shouting: Frodo! Frodo! in their clear, high
hobbit-voices. Legolas and Gimli were running. A sudden panic or madness
seemed to have fallen on the Company.
`We shall all be scattered and lost,' groaned Aragorn. `Boromir! I do
not know what part you have played in this mischief, but help now! Go after
those two young hobbits, and guard them at the least, even if you cannot
find Frodo. Come back to this spot, if you find him, or any traces of him. I
shall return soon.'
Aragorn sprang swiftly away and went in pursuit of Sam. Just as he
reached the little lawn among the rowans he overtook him, toiling uphill,
panting and calling, Frodo!
`Come with me, Sam! ' he said. `None of us should be alone. There is
mischief about. I feel it. I am going to the top, to the Seat of Amon Hen,
to see what may be seen. And look! It is as my heart guessed, Frodo went
this way. Follow me, and keep your eyes open! ' He sped up the path.
Sam did his best, but he could not keep up with Strider the Ranger, and
soon fell behind. He had not gone far before Aragorn was out of sight ahead.
Sam stopped and puffed. Suddenly he clapped his hand to his head.
`Whoa, Sam Gamgee! ' he said aloud. `Your legs are too short, so use
your head! Let me see now! Boromir isn't lying, that's not his way; but he
hasn't told us everything. Something scared Mr. Frodo badly. He screwed
himself up to the point, sudden. He made up his mind at last to go. Where
to? Off East. Not without Sam? Yes, without even his Sam. That's hard, cruel
hard.'
Sam passed his hand over his eyes, brushing away the tears. 'Steady,
Gamgee! ' he said. `Think, if you can! He can't fly across rivers, and he
can't jump waterfalls. He's got no gear. So he's got to get back to the
boats. Back to the boats! Back to the boats, Sam, like lightning! '
Sam turned and bolted back down the path. He fell and cut his knees. Up
he got and ran on. He came to the edge of the lawn of Parth Galen by the
shore, where the boats were drawn up out of the water. No one was there.
There seemed to be cries in the woods behind, but he did not heed them. He
stood gazing for a moment. stock-still, gaping. A boat was sliding down the
bank all by itself. With a shout Sam raced across the grass. The boat
slipped into the wat
128d
er.
`Coming, Mr. Frodo! Coming! ' called Sam, and flung himself from the
bank, clutching at the departing boat. He missed it by a yard. With a cry
and a splash he fell face downward into deep swift water. Gurgling he went
under, and the River closed over his curly head.
An exclamation of dismay came from the empty boat. A paddle swirled and
the boat put about. Frodo was just in time to grasp Sam by the hair as he
came up, bubbling and struggling. Fear was staring in his round brown eyes.
`Up you come, Sam my lad! ' said Frodo. `Now take my hand! '
`Save me, Mr. Frodo! ' gasped Sam. `I'm drownded. I can't see your
hand.'
`Here it is. Don't pinch, lad! I won't let you go. Tread water and
don't flounder, or you'll upset the boat. There now, get hold of the side,
and let me use the paddle! '
With a few strokes Frodo brought the boat back to the bank. and Sam was
able to scramble out, wet as a water-rat. Frodo took off the Ring and
stepped ashore again.
`Of all the confounded nuisances you are the worst, Sam! ' he said.
'Oh, Mr. Frodo, that's hard! ' said Sam shivering. `That's hard, trying
to go without me and all. If I hadn't a guessed right, where would you be
now? '
`Safely on my way.'
`Safely! ' said Sam. `All alone and without me to help you? I couldn't
have a borne it, it'd have been the death of me.'
'It would be the death of you to come with me, Sam,' said Frodo and I
could not have borne that.'
`Not as certain as being left behind,' said Sam.
`But I am going to Mordor.'
`I know that well enough, Mr. Frodo. Of course you are. And I'm coming
with you.'
`Now, Sam,' said Frodo, `don't hinder me! The others will be coming
back at any minute. If they catch me here. I shall have to argue and
explain, and I shall never have the heart or the chance to get off. But I
must go at once. It's the only way.'
`Of course it is,' answered Sam. 'But not alone. I'm coming too, or
neither of us isn't going. I'll knock holes in all the boats first.'
Frodo actually laughed. A sudden warmth and gladness touched his heart.
`Leave one! 'he said. `We'll need it. But you can't come like this without
your gear or food or anything.'
'Just hold on a moment, and I'll get my stuff!' cried Sam eagerly.
'It's all ready. I thought we should be off today.' He rushed to the camping
place, fished out his pack from the pile where Frodo had laid it when he
emptied the boat of his companions' goods grabbed a spare blanket, and some
extra packages of food, and ran back.
`So all my plan is spoilt! ' said Frodo. `It is no good trying to
escape you. But I'm glad, Sam. I cannot tell you how glad. Come along! It is
plain that we were meant to go together. We will go, and may the others find
a safe road! Strider will look after them. I don't suppose we shall see them
again.'
`Yet we may, Mr Frodo. We may,' said Sam.
So Frodo and Sam set off on the last stage of the Quest together. Frodo
paddled away from the shore, and the River bore them swiftly away. down the
western arm, and past the frowning cliffs of Tol Brandir. The roar of the
great falls drew nearer. Even with such help as Sam could give, it was hard
work to pass across the current at the southward end of the island and drive
the boat eastward towards the far shore.
At length they came to land again upon the southern slopes of Amon
Lhaw. There they found a shelving shore, and they drew the boat out, high
above the water, and hid it as well as they could behind a great boulder.
Then shouldering their burdens, they set off, seeking a path that would
bring them over the grey hills of the Emyn Muil, and down into the Land of
Shadow.
Here ends the first part of the history of the War of the Ring.
The second part is called THE TWO TOWERS, since the events recounted
in it are dominated by ORTHANC, the citadel of Saruman, and the fortress
of MINAS MORGUL that guards the secret entrance to Mordor; it tells of
the deeds and perils of all the members of the now sundered fellowship, until
the coming of the Great Darkness.
The third part tells of the last defence against the Shadow, and the
end of the mission of the Ring-bearer in THE RETURN OF THE KING.

The Fellowship Of The Ring - Chapter 20 - The Great River.

Frodo was roused by Sam. He found that he was lying, well wrapped,
under tall grey-skinned trees in a quiet corner of the woodlands on the west
bank of the Great River, Anduin. He had slept the night away, and the grey
of morning was dim among the bare branches. Gimli was busy with a small fire
near at hand.
They started again before the day was broad. Not that most of the
Company were eager to hurry southwards: they were content that the decision,
which they must make at latest when they came to Rauros and the Tindrock
Isle, still lay some days ahead; and they let the River bear them on at its
own pace, having no desire to hasten towards the perils that lay beyond,
whichever course they took in the end. Aragorn let them drift with the
stream as they wished, husbanding their strength against weariness to come.
But he insisted that at least they should start early each day and journey
on far into the evening; for he felt in his heart that time was pressing,
and he feared that the Dark Lord had not been idle while they lingered in
Lurien.
Nonetheless they saw no sign of an enemy that day, nor the next. The
dull grey hours passed without event. As the third day of their voyage wore
on the lands changed slowly: the trees thinned and then failed altogether.
On the eastern bank to their left they saw long formless slopes stretching
up and away toward the sky; brown and withered they looked, as if fire had
passed over them, leaving no living blade of green: an unfriendly waste
without even a broken tree or a bold stone to relieve the emptiness. They
had come to the Brown Lands that lay, vast and desolate, between Southern
Mirkwood and the hills of the Emyn Muil. What pestilence or war or evil deed
of the Enemy had so blasted all that region even Aragorn could not tell.
Upon the west to their right the land was treeless also, but it was
flat, and in many places green with wide plains of grass. On this side of
the River they passed forests of great reeds, so tall that they shut out all
view to the west, as the little boats went rustling by along their
fluttering borders. Their dark withered plumes bent and tossed in the light
cold airs, hissing softly and sadly. Here and there through openings Frodo
could catch sudden glimpses of rolling meads, and far beyond them hills in
the sunset, and away on the edge of sight a dark line, where marched the
southernmost ranks of the Misty Mountains.
There was no sign of living moving things, save birds. Of these there
were many: small fowl whistling and piping in the reeds, but they were
seldom seen. Once or twice the travellers heard the rush and whine of
swan-wings, and looking up they saw a great phalanx streaming along the sky.
`Swans! ' said Sam. `And mighty big ones too! '
`Yes,' said Aragorn, 'and they are black swans.'
`How wide and empty and mournful all this country looks! ' said Frodo.
`I always imagined that as one journeyed south it got warmer and merrier,
until winter was left behind for ever.'
'But we have not journeyed far south yet,' answered Aragorn. `It is
still winter, and we are far from the sea. Here the world is cold until the
sudden spring, and we may yet have snow again. Far away down in the Bay of
Belfalas, to which Anduin runs, it is warm and merry, maybe, or would be but
for the Enemy. But here we are not above sixty leagues, I guess, south of
the Southfarthing away in your Shire, hundreds of long miles yonder. You are
looking now south-west across the north plains of the Riddermark, Rohan the
land of the Horse-lords. Ere long we shall come to the mouth of the Limlight
that runs down from Fangorn to join the Great River. That is the north
boundary of Rohan; and of old all that lay between Limlight and the White
Mountains belonged to the Rohirrim. It is a rich and pleasant land, and its
grass has no rival; but in these evil days folk do not dwell by the River or
ride often to its shores. Anduin is wide, yet the orcs can shoot their
arrows far across the stream; and of late, it is said, they have dared to
cross the water and raid the herds and studs of Rohan.'
Sam looked from bank to bank uneasily. The trees had seemed hostile
before, as if they harboured secret eyes and lurking dangers; now he wished
that the trees were still there. He felt that the Company was too naked,
afloat in little open boats in the midst of shelterless lands, and on a
river that was the frontier of war.
In the next day or two, as they went on, borne steadily southwards,
this feeling of insecurity grew on all the Company. For a whole day they
took to their paddles and hastened forward. The banks slid by. Soon the
River broadened and grew more shallow; long stony beaches lay upon the east,
and there were gravel-shoals in the water, so that careful steering was
needed. The Brown Lands rose into bleak wolds, over which flowed a chill air
from the East. On the other side the meads had become rolling downs of
withered grass amidst a land of fen and tussock. Frodo shivered, thinking of
the lawns and fountains, the clear sun and gentle rains of Lothlurien. There
was little speech and no laughter in any of the boats. Each member of the
Company was busy with his own thoughts.
The heart of Legolas was running under the stars of a summer night in
some northern glade amid the beech-woods; Gimli was fingering gold in his
mind, and wondering if it were fit to be wrought into the housing of the
Lady's gift. Merry and Pippin in the middle boat were ill at ease, for
Boromir sat muttering to himself, sometimes biting his nails, as if some
restlessness or doubt consumed him, sometimes seizing a paddle and driving
the boat close behind Aragorn's. Then Pippin, who sat in the bow looking
back, caught a queer gleam in his eye, as he peered forward gazing at Frodo.
Sam had long ago made up his mind that, though boats were maybe not as
dangerous as he had been brought up to believe, they were far more
uncomfortable than even he had imagined. He was cramped and miserable,
having nothing to do but stare at the winter-lands crawling by and the grey
water on either side of him. Even when the paddles were in use they did not
trust Sam with one.
As dusk drew down on the fourth day, he was looking back over the bowed
heads of Frodo and Aragorn and the following boats; he was drowsy and
longed
for camp and the feel of earth under his toes. Suddenly something caught his
sight: at first he stared at it listlessly, then he sat up and rubbed his
eyes; but when he looked again he could not see it any more.
That night they camped on a small eyot close to the western bank. Sam
lay rolled in blankets beside Frodo. `I had a funny dream an hour or two
before we stopped, Mr. Frodo,' he said. `Or maybe it wasn't a dream. Funny
it was anyway.'
`Well, what was it? ' said Frodo, knowing that Sam would not settle
down until he had told his tale, whatever it was. 'I haven't seen or thought
of anything to make me smile since we left Lothlurien.'
`It wasn't funny that way, Mr. Frodo. It was queer. All wrong, if it
wasn't a dream. And you had best hear it. It was like this: I saw a log with
eyes! '
`The log's all right,' said Frodo. `There are many in the River. But
leave out the eyes! '
`That I won't,' said Sam. ` 'Twas the eyes as made me sit up, so to
speak. I saw what I took to be a log floating along in the half-light behind
Gimli's boat; but I didn't give much heed to it. Then it seemed as if the
log was slowly catching us up. And that was peculiar, as you might say,
seeing as we were all floating on the stream together. Just then I saw the
eyes: two pale sort of points, shiny-like, on a hump at the near end of the
log. What's more, it wasn't a log, for it had paddle-feet, like a swan's
almost, only they seemed bigger, and kept dipping in and out of the water.
'That's when I sat right up and rubbed my eyes, meaning to give a
shout, if it was still there when I had rubbed the drowse out of my head.
For the whatever-it-was was coming along fast now and getting close behind
Gimli. But whether those two lamps spotted me moving and staring, or whether
I came to my senses, I don't know. When I looked again, it wasn't there. Yet
I think I caught a glimpse with the tail of-my eye, as the saying is, of
something dark shooting under the shadow of the bank. I couldn't see no more
eyes though.
`I said to myself: "dreaming again, Sam Gamgee," I said: and I said no
more just then. But I've been thinking since. and now I'm not so sure. What
do you make of it, Mr. Frodo? '
'I should make nothing of it but a log and the dusk and sleep in your
eyes Sam, said Frodo, if this was the first time that those eyes had been
seen. But it isn't. I saw them away back north before we reached Lurien. And
I saw a strange creature with eyes climbing to the flet that night. Haldir
saw it too. And do you remember the report of the Elves that went after the
orc-band? '
`Ah,' said Sam. `I do; and I remember more too. I don't like my
thoughts; but thinking of one thing and another, and Mr. Bilbo's stories and
all, I fancy I could put a name on the creature, at a guess. A nasty name.
Gollum, maybe? '
`Yes, that is what I have feared for some time,' said Frodo. `Ever
since the night on the flet. I suppose he was lurking in Moria, and picked
up our trail then; but I hoped that our stay in Lurien would throw him off
the scent again. The miserable creature must have been hiding in the woods
by the Silverlode, watching us start off! '
`That's about it,' said Sam. `And we'd better be a bit more watchful
ourselves, or we'll feel some nasty fingers round our necks one of these
nights, if we ever wake up to feel anything. And that's what I was leading
up to. No need to trouble Strider or the others tonight. I'll keep watch. I
can sleep tomorrow, being no more than luggage in a boat, as you might say.'
`I might,' said Frodo, `and I might say "luggage with eyes". You shall
watch; but only if you promise to wake me halfway towards morning, if
nothing happens before then.'
In the dead hours Frodo came out of a deep dark sleep to find Sam
shaking him. `It's a shame to wake you,' whispered Sam, `but that's what you
said. There's nothing to tell, or not much. I thought I heard some soft
plashing and a sniffing noise, a while back; but you hear a lot of such
queer sounds by a river at night.'
He lay down, and Frodo sat up, huddled in his blankets, and fought off
his sleep. Minutes or hours passed slowly, and nothing happened. Frodo was
just yielding to the temptation to lie down again when a dark shape, hardly
visible, floated close to one of the moored boats. A long whitish hand could
be dimly seen as it shot out and grabbed the gunwale; two pale lamplike eyes
shone coldly as they peered inside, and then they lifted and gazed up at
Frodo on the eyot. They were not more than a yard or two away, and Frodo
heard the soft hiss of intaken breath. He stood up, drawing Sting from its
sheath, and faced the eyes. Immediately their light was shut off. There was
another hiss and a splash, and the dark log-shape shot away downstream into
the night. Aragorn stirred in his sleep, turned over, and sat up`
'What is it? ' he whispered, springing up and coming to Frodo. `I felt
something in my sleep. Why have you drawn your sword? '
`Gollum,' answered Frodo. 'Or at least, so I guess.'
`Ah! ' said Aragorn. `So you know about our little footpad, do you? He
padded after us all through Moria and right down to Nimrodel. Since we took
to boats, he has been lying on a log and paddling with hands and feet. I
have tried to catch him once or twice at night; but he is slier than a fox,
and as slippery as a fish. I hoped the river-voyage would beat him, but he
is too clever a waterman.
`We shall have to try going faster tomorrow. You lie down now, and I
will keep watch for what is left of the night. I wish I could lay my hands
on the wretch. We might make him useful. But if I cannot, we shall have to
try and lose him. He is very dangerous. Quite apart from murder by night on
his own account, he may put any enemy that is about on our track.'
The night passed without Gollum showing so much as a shadow again.
After that the Company kept a sharp look-out, but they saw no more of Gollum
while the voyage lasted. If he was still following, he was very wary and
cunning. At Aragorn's bidding they paddled now for long spells, and the
banks went swiftly by. But they saw little of the country, for they
journeyed mostly by night and twilight, resting by day, and lying as hidden
as the land allowed. In this way the time passed without event until the
seventh day.
The weather was still grey and overcast, with wind from the East, but
as evening drew into night the sky away westward cleared, and pools of faint
light, yellow and pale green, opened under the grey shores of cloud. There
the white rind of the new Moon could be seen glimmering in the remote lakes.
Sam looked at it and puckered his brows.
The next day the country on either side began to change rapidly. The
banks began to rise and grow stony. Soon they were passing through a hilly
rocky land, and on both shores there were steep slopes buried in deep brakes
of thorn and sloe, tangled with brambles and creepers. Behind them stood low
crumbling cliffs, and chimneys of grey weathered stone dark with ivy; and
beyond these again there rose high ridges crowned with wind-writhen firs.
They were drawing near to the grey hill-country of the Emyn Muil, the
southern march of Wilderland.
There were many birds about the cliffs and the rock-chimneys, and all
day high in the air flocks of birds had been circling, black against the
pale sky. As they lay in their camp that day Aragorn watched the flights
doubtfully, wondering if Gollum had been doing some mischief and the news
of
their voyage was now moving in the wilderness. Later as the sun was setting,
and the Company was stirring and getting ready to start again, he descried a
dark spot against the fading light: a great bird high and far off, now
wheeling, now flying on slowly southwards.
'What is that, Legolas? ' he asked, pointing to the northern sky. 'Is
it, as I think. an eagle? '
'Yes.' said Legolas. `It is an eagle, a hunting eagle. I wonder what
that forebodes. It is far from the mountains.'
`We will not start until it is fully dark,' said Aragorn.
The eighth night of their journey came. It was silent and windless; the
grey east wind had passed away. The thin crescent of the Moon had fallen
early into the pale sunset, but the sky was clear above, and though far away
in the South there were great ranges of cloud that still shone faintly, in
the West stars glinted bright.
`Come! ' said Aragorn. `We will venture one more journey by night. We
are coming to reaches of the River that I do not know well: for I have never
journeyed by water in these parts before, not between here and the rapids of
Sarn Gebir. But if I am right in my reckoning, those are still many miles
ahead. Still there are dangerous places even before we come there: rocks and
stony eyots in the stream. We must keep a sharp watch and not try to paddle
swiftly.'
To Sam in the leading boat was given the task of watchman. He lay
forward peering into the gloom. The night grew dark, but the stars above
were strangely bright, and there was a glimmer On the face of the River. It
was close on midnight, and they had been drifting for some while. hardly
using the paddles, when suddenly Sam cried out. Only a few yards ahead dark
shapes loomed up in the stream and he heard the swirl of racing water. There
was a swift current which swung left, towards the eastern shore where the
channel was clear. As they were swept aside the travellers could see, now
very close, the pale foam of the River lashing against sharp rocks that were
thrust out far into the stream like a ridge of teeth. The boats were all
huddled together.
`Hoy there, Aragorn! ' shouted Boromir, as his boat bumped into the
leader. `This is madness! We cannot dare the Rapids by night! But no boat
can live in Sarn Gebir, be it night or day.'
`Back, back! ' cried Aragorn. 'Turn! Turn if you can! ' He drove his
paddle into the water, trying to hold the boat and bring it round.
'I am out of my reckoning,' he said to Frodo. 'I did not know that we
had come so far: Anduin flows faster than I thought. Sarn Gebir must be
close at hand already.'
With great efforts they checked the boats and slowly brought them
about; but at first they could make only small headway against the current,
and all the time they were carried nearer and nearer to the eastern bank.
Now dark and ominous it loomed up in the night.
'All together, paddle! ' shouted Boromir. 'Paddle! Or we shall be
driven on the shoals.' Even as he spoke Frodo felt the keel beneath him
grate upon stone.
At that moment there was a twang of bowstrings: several arrows whistled
over them, and some fell among them. One smote Frodo between the
shoulders
and he lurched forward with a cry, letting go his paddle: but the arrow fell
back. foiled by his hidden coat of mail. Another passed through Aragorn's
hood; and a third stood fast in the gunwale of the second boat, close by
Merry's hand. Sam thought he could glimpse black figures running to and fro
upon the long shingle-banks that lay under the eastern shore. They seemed
very near.
`Yrch!' said Legolas, falling into his own tongue.
`Orcs! ' cried Gimli.
`Gollum's doing, I'll be bound.' said Sam to Frodo. `And a nice place
to choose, too. The River seems set on taking us right into their arms! '
They all leaned forward straining at the paddles: even Sam took a hand.
Every moment they expected to feel the bite of black-feathered arrows. Many
whined overhead or struck the water nearby; but there were no more hits. It
was dark, but not too dark for the night-eyes of Orcs, and in the
star-glimmer they must have offered their cunning foes some mark, unless it
was that the grey cloaks Of Lurien and the grey timber of the elf-wrought
boats defeated the malice of the archers of Mordor.
Stroke by stroke they laboured on. In the darkness it was hard to be
sure that they were indeed moving at all; but slowly the swirl of the water
grew less, and the shadow of the eastern bank faded back into the night. At
last, as far as they could judge, they had reached the middle of the stream
again and had driven their boats back some distance above the jutting rocks.
Then half turning they thrust them with all their strength towards the
western shore. Under the shadow Of bushes leaning out over the water they
halted and drew breath.
Legolas laid down his paddle and took up the bow that he had brought
from Lurien. Then he sprang ashore and climbed a few paces up the bank.
Stringing the bow and fitting an arrow he turned, peering back over the
River into the darkness. Across the water there were shrill cries, but
nothing could be seen.
Frodo looked up at the Elf standing tall above him, as he gazed into
the night, seeking a mark to shoot at. His head was dark, crowned with sharp
white stars that glittered in the black pools of the sky behind. But now
rising and sailing up from the South the great clouds advanced, sending out
dark outriders into the starry fields. A sudden dread fell on the Company.
`Elbereth Gilthoniel!' sighed Legolas as he looked up. Even as he did
so, a dark shape, like a cloud and yet not a cloud, for it moved far more
swiftly, came out of the blackness in the South, and sped towards the
Company, blotting out all light as it approached. Soon it appeared as a
great winged creature, blacker than the pits in the night. Fierce voices
rose up to greet it from across the water. Frodo felt a sudden chill running
through him and clutching at his heart; there was a deadly cold, like the
memory of an old wound, in his shoulder. He crouched down, as if to hide.
Suddenly the great bow of Lurien sang. Shrill went the arrow from the
elven-string. Frodo looked up. Almost above him the winged shape swerved.
There was a harsh croaking scream, as it fell out of the air, vanishing down
into the gloom of the eastern shore. The sky was clean again. There was a
tumult of many voices far away, cursing and wailing in the darkness, and
then silence. Neither shaft nor cry came again from the east that night.
After a while Aragorn led the boats back upstream. They felt their way
along the water's edge for some distance, until they found a small shallow
bay. A few low trees grew there close to the water, and behind them rose a
steep rocky bank. Here the Company decided to stay and await the dawn: it
was useless to attempt to move further by night. They made no camp and lit
no fire, but lay huddled in the boats, moored close together.
'Praised be the bow of Galadriel, and the hand and eye of Legolas! '
said Gimli, as he munched a wafer of lembas. 'That was a mighty shot in the
dark, my friend!'
'But who can say what it hit?' said Legolas.
'I cannot,' said Gimli. `But I am glad that the shadow came no nearer.
I liked it not at all. Too much it reminded me of the shadow in Moria -- the
shadow of the Balrog,' he ended in a whisper.
'It was not a Balrog,' said Frodo, still shivering with the chill that
had come upon him. 'It was something colder. I think it was --' Then he
paused and fell silent.
'What do you think? ' asked Boromir eagerly, leaning from his boat, as
if he was trying to catch a glimpse of Frodo's face.
`I think -- No, I will not say,' answered Frodo. `Whatever it was, its
fall has dismayed our enemies.'
`So it seems,' said Aragorn. `Yet where they are, and how many, and
what they will do next, we do not know. This night we must all be sleepless!
Dark hides us now. But what the day will show who can tell? Have your
weapons close to hand! '
Sam sat tapping the hilt of his sword as if he were counting on his
fingers, and looking up at the sky. `It's very strange,' he murmured. `The
Moon's the same in the Shire and in Wilderland, or it ought to be. But
either it's out of its running, or I'm all wrong in my reckoning. You'll
remember, Mr. Frodo, the Moon was waning as we lay on the flet up in that
tree: a week from the full, I reckon. And we'd been a week on the way last
night, when up pops a New Moon as thin as a nail-paring, as if we had never
stayed no time in the Elvish country.
`Well, I can remember three nights there for certain, and I seem to
remember several more, but I would take my oath it was never a whole month.
Anyone would think that time did not count in there! '
`And perhaps that was the way of it,' said Frodo. `In that land, maybe,
we were in a time that has elsewhere long gone by. It was not, I think,
until Silverlode bore us back to Anduin that we returned to the time that
flows through mortal lands to the Great Sea. And I don't remember any moon,
either new or old, in Caras Galadhon: only stars by night and sun by day.'
Legolas stirred in his boat. `Nay, time does not tarry ever,' he said;
`but change and growth is not in all things and places alike. For the Elves
the world moves, and it moves both very swift and very slow. Swift, because
they themselves change little, and all else fleets by: it is a grief to
them. Slow, because they do not count the running years, not for themselves.
The passing seasons are but ripples ever repeated in the long long stream.
Yet beneath the Sun all things must wear to an end at last.'
`But the wearing is slow in Lurien,' said Frodo. `The power of the Lady
is on it. Rich are the hours, though short they seem, in Caras Galadhon,
where Galadriel wields the Elven-ring.'
'That should not have been said outside Lurien, not even to me,' said
Aragorn. `Speak no more of it! But so it is, Sam: in that land you lost your
count. There time flowed swiftly by us, as for the Elves. The old moon
passed, and a new moon waxed and waned in the world outside, while we
tarried there. And yestereve a new moon came again. Winter is nearly gone.
Time flows on to a spring of little hope.'
The night passed silently. No voice or call was heard again across the
water. The travellers huddled in their boats felt the changing of the
weather. The air grew warm and very still under the great moist clouds that
had floated up from the South and the distant seas. The rushing of the River
over the rocks of the rapids seemed to grow louder and closer. The twigs of
the trees above them began to drip.
When the day came the mood of the world about them had become soft and
sad. Slowly the dawn grew to a pale light, diffused and shadowless. There
was mist on the River, and white fog swathed the shore; the far bank could
not be seen.
`I can't abide fog,' said Sam; `but this seems to be a lucky one. Now
perhaps we can get away without those cursed goblins seeing us.'
`Perhaps so,' said Aragorn. `But it will be hard to find the path
unless the fog lifts a little later on. And we must find the path, if we are
to pass Sarn Gebir and come to the Emyn Muil.'
'I do not see why we should pass the Rapids or follow the River any
further,' said Boromir. `If the Emyn Muil lie before us, then we can abandon
these cockle-boats, and strike westward and southward, until we come to the
Entwash and cross into my own land.'
`We can, if we are making for Minas Tirith,' said Aragorn, `but that is
not yet agreed. And such a course may be more perilous than it sounds. The
vale of Entwash is flat and fenny, and fog is a deadly peril there for those
on foot and laden. I would not abandon our boats until we must. The River is
at least a path that cannot be missed.'
`But the Enemy holds the eastern bank,' objected Boromir. `And even if
you pass the Gates of Argonath and come unmolested to the Tindrock, what
will you do then? Leap down the Falls and land in the marshes? '
`No! ' answered Aragorn. `Say rather that we will bear our boats by the
ancient way to Rauros-foot, and there take to the water again. Do you not
know, Boromir, or do you choose to forget the North Stair, and the high seat
upon Amon Hen, that were made in the days of the great kings? I at least
have a mind to stand in that high place again, before I decide my further
course. There, maybe, we shall see some sign that will guide us.'
Boromir held out long against this choice; but when it became plain
that Frodo would follow Aragorn, wherever he went, he gave in. 'It is not
the way of the Men of Minas Tirith to desert their friends at need,' he
said, `and you will need my strength, if ever you are to reach the Tindrock.
To the tall isle I will go, but no further. There I shall turn to my home,
alone if my help has not earned the reward of any companionship.'
The day was now growing, and the fog had lifted a little. It was
decided that Aragorn and Legolas should at once go forward along the shore,
while the others remained by the boats. Aragorn hoped to find some way by
which they could carry both their boats and their baggage to the smoother
water beyond the Rapids.
`Boats of the Elves would not sink, maybe,' he said, `but that does not
say that we should come through Sarn Gebir alive. None have ever done so
yet. No road was made by the Men of Gondor in this region, for even in their
great days their realm did not reach up Anduin beyond the Emyn Muil; but
there is a portage-way somewhere on the western shore, if I can find it. It
cannot yet have perished; for light boats used to journey out of Wilderland
down to Osgiliath, and still did so until a few years ago, when the Orcs of
Mordor began to multiply.'
'Seldom in my life has any boat come out of the North, and the Orcs
prowl on the east-shore,' said Boromir. `If you go forward, peril will grow
with every mile, even if you find a path.'
`Peril lies ahead on every southward road,' answered Aragorn. `Wait for
us one day. If we do not return in that time, you will know that evil has
indeed befallen us. Then you must take a new leader and follow him as best
you can.'
It was with a heavy heart that Frodo saw Aragorn and Legolas climb the
steep bank and vanish into the mists; but his fears proved groundless. Only
two or three hours had passed, and it was barely mid-day, when the shadowy
shapes of the explorers appeared again.
`All is well,' said Aragorn, as he clambered down the bank. 'There is a
track, and it leads to a good landing that is still serviceable. The
distance is not great: the head of the Rapids is but half a mile below us,
and they are little more than a mile long. Not far beyond them the stream
becomes clear and smooth again, though it runs swiftly. Our hardest task
will be to get our boats and baggage to the old portage-way. We have found
it, but it lies well back from the water-side here, and runs under the lee
of a rock-wall, a furlong or more from the shore. We did not find where the
northward landing lies. If it still remains, we must have passed it
yesterday night. We might labour far upstream and yet miss it in the fog. I
fear we must leave the River now, and make for the portage-way as best we
can from here.'
`That would not be easy, even if we were all Men,' said Boromir.
`Yet such as we are we will try it,' said Aragorn.
'Aye, we will,' said Gimli. `The legs of Men will lag on a rough road,
while a Dwarf goes on, be the burden twice his own weight, Master Boromir! '
The task proved hard indeed, yet in the end it was done. The goods were
taken out of the boats and brought to the top of the bank, where there was a
level space. Then the boats were drawn out of the water and carried up. They
were far less heavy than any had expected. Of what tree growing in the
elvish country they were made not even Legolas knew; but the wood was
tough
and yet strangely light. Merry and Pippin alone could carry their boat with
ease along the flat. Nonetheless it needed the strength of the two Men to
lift and haul them over the ground that the Company now had to cross. It
sloped up away from the River, a tumbled waste of grey limestone-boulders,
with many hidden holes shrouded with weeds and bushes; there were thickets
of brambles, and sheer dells; and here and there boggy pools fed by waters
trickling from the terraces further inland.
One by one Boromir and Aragorn carried the boats, while the others
toiled and scrambled after them with the baggage. At last all was removed
and laid on the portage-way. Then with little further hindrance, save from
sprawling briars and many fallen stones, they moved forward all together.
Fog still hung in veils upon the crumbling rock-wall, and to their left mist
shrouded the River: they could hear it rushing and foaming over the sharp
shelves and stony teeth of Sarn Gebir, but they could not see it. Twice they
made the journey, before all was brought safe to the southern landing.
There the portage-way, turning back to the water-side, ran gently down
to the shallow edge of a little pool. It seemed to have been scooped in the
river-side, not by hand, but by the water swirling down from Sarn Gebir
against a low pier of rock that jutted out some way into the stream. Beyond
it the shore rose sheer into a grey cliff, and there was no further passage
for those on foot.
Already the short afternoon was past, and a dim cloudy dusk was closing
in. They sat beside the water listening to the confused rush and roar of the
Rapids hidden in the mist; they were tired and sleepy, and their hearts were
as gloomy as the dying day.
'Well, here we are, and here we must pass another night,' said Boromir.
`We need sleep, and even if Aragorn had a mind to pass the Gates of Argonath
by night, we are all too tired-except, no doubt, our sturdy dwarf.'
Gimli made no reply: he was nodding as he sat.
`Let us rest as much as we can now,' said Aragorn. `Tomorrow we must
journey by day again. Unless the weather changes once more and cheats us, we
shall have a good chance of slipping through, unseen by any eyes on the
eastern shore. But tonight two must watch together in turns: three hours off
and one on guard.'
Nothing happened that night worse than a brief drizzle of rain an hour
before dawn. As soon as it was fully light they started. Already the fog was
thinning. They kept as close as they could to the western side, and they
could see the dim shapes of the low cliffs rising ever higher, shadowy walls
with their feet in the hurrying river. In the mid-morning the clouds drew
down lower, and it began to rain heavily. They drew the skin-covers over
their boats to prevent them from being flooded, and drifted on: little could
be seen before them or about them through the grey falling curtains.
The rain, however, did not last long. Slowly the sky above grew
lighter, and then suddenly the clouds broke, and their draggled fringes
trailed away northward up the River. The fogs and mists were gone. Before
the travellers lay a wide ravine, with great rocky sides to which clung,
upon shelves and in narrow crevices, a few thrawn trees. The channel grew
narrower and the River swifter. Now they were speeding along with little
hope of stopping or turning, whatever they might meet ahead. Over them was a
lane of pale-blue sky, around them the dark overshadowed River, and before
them black, shutting out the sun, the hills of Emyn Muil, in which no
opening could be seen.
Frodo peering forward saw in the distance two great rocks approaching:
like great pinnacles or pillars of stone they seemed. Tall and sheer and
ominous they stood upon either side of the stream. A narrow gap appeared
between them, and the River swept the boats towards it.
`Behold the Argonath, the Pillars of the Kings! ' cried Aragorn. `We
shall pass them soon. Keep the boats in line, and as far apart as you can!
Hold the middle of the stream! '
As Frodo was borne towards them the great pillars rose like towers to
meet him. Giants they seemed to him, vast grey figures silent but
threatening. Then he saw that they were indeed shaped and fashioned: the
craft and power of old had wrought upon them, and still they preserved
through the suns and rains of forgotten years the mighty likenesses in which
they had been hewn. Upon great pedestals founded in the deep waters stood
two great kings of stone: still with blurred eyes and crannied brows they
frowned upon the North. The left hand of each was raised palm outwards in
gesture of warning; in each right hand there was an axe; upon each head
there was a crumbling helm and crown. Great power and majesty they still
wore, the silent wardens of a long-vanished kingdom. Awe and fear fell upon
Frodo, and he cowered down, shutting his eyes and not daring to look up as
the boat drew near. Even Boromir bowed his head as the boats whirled by.
frail and fleeting as little leaves, under the enduring shadow of the
sentinels of N®menor. So they passed into the dark chasm of the Gates.
Sheer rose the dreadful cliffs to unguessed heights on either side. Far
off was the dim sky. The black waters roared and echoed, and a wind screamed
over them. Frodo crouching over his knees heard Sam in front muttering and
groaning: `What a place! What a horrible place! Just let me get out of this
boat, and I'll never wet my toes in a puddle again, let alone a river! '
`Fear not! ' said a strange voice behind him. Frodo turned and saw
Strider, and yet not Strider; for the weatherworn Ranger was no longer
there. In the stern sat Aragorn son of Arathorn, proud and erect, guiding
the boat with skilful strokes; his hood was cast back, and his dark hair was
blowing in the wind, a light was in his eyes: a king returning from exile to
his own land.
'Fear not! ' he said. `Long have I desired to look upon the likenesses
of Isildur and Anbrion, my sires of old. Under their shadow Elessar, the
Elfstone son of Arathorn of the House of Valandil Isildur's son heir of
Elendil, has nought to dread! '
Then the light of his eyes faded, and he spoke to himself: `Would that
Gandalf were here! How my heart yearns for Minas Anor and the walls of my
own city! But whither now shall I go? '
The chasm was long and dark, and filled with the noise of wind and
rushing water and echoing stone. It bent somewhat towards the west so that
at first all was dark ahead; but soon Frodo saw a tall gap of light before
him, ever growing. Swiftly it drew near, and suddenly the boats shot
through, out into a wide clear light.
The sun, already long fallen from the noon, was shining in a windy sky.
The pent waters spread out into a long oval lake, pale Nen Hithoel, fenced
by steep grey hills whose sides were clad with trees, but their heads were
bare, cold-gleaming in the sunlight. At the far southern end rose three
peaks. The midmost stood somewhat forward from the others and sundered
from
them, an island in the waters, about which the flowing River flung pale
shimmering arms. Distant but deep there came up on the wind a roaring sound
like the roll of thunder heard far away.
`Behold Tol Brandir! ' said Aragorn, pointing south to the tall peak.
'Upon the left stands Amon Lhaw, and upon the right is Amon Hen the Hills of
Hearing and of Sight. In the days of the great kings there were high seats
upon them, and watch was kept there. But it is said that no foot of man or
beast has ever been set upon Tol Brandir. Ere the shade of night falls we
shall come to them. I hear the endless voice of Rauros calling.'
The Company rested now for a while, drifting south on the current that
flowed through the middle of the lake. They ate some food, and then they
took to their paddles and hastened on their way. The sides of the westward
hills fell into shadow, and the Sun grew round and red. Here and there a
misty star peered out. The three peaks loomed before them, darkling in the
twilight. Rauros was roaring with a great voice. Already night was laid on
the flowing waters when the travellers came at last under the shadow of the
hills.
The tenth day of their journey was over. Wilderland was behind them.
They could go no further without choice between the east-way and the west.
The last stage of the Quest was before them.

The Fellowship Of The Ring - Chapter 19 - Farewell to Lurien

That night the Company was again summoned to the chamber of Celeborn,
and there the Lord and Lady greeted them with fair words. At length Celeborn
spoke of their departure.
`Now is the time,' he said, `when those who wish to continue the Quest
must harden their hearts to leave this land. Those who no longer wish to go
forward may remain here, for a while. But whether they stay or go, none can
be sure of peace. For we are come now to the edge of doom. Here those who
wish may await the oncoming of the hour till either the ways of the world
lie open again. or we summon them to the last need of Lurien. Then they may
return to their own lands, or else go to the long home of those that fall in
battle.'
There was a silence. `They all resolved to go forward,' said Galadriel
looking in their eyes.
`As for me,' said Boromir, `my way home lies onward and not back.'
`That is true,' said Celeborn, `but is all this Company going with you
to Minas Tirith? '
`We have not decided our course,' said Aragorn. 'Beyond Lothlurien I do
not know what Gandalf intended to do. Indeed I do not think that even he had
any clear purpose.'
`Maybe not,' said Celeborn, `yet when you leave this land, you can no
longer forget the Great River. As some of you know well, it cannot be
crossed by travellers with baggage between Lurien and Gondor, save by boat.
And are not the bridges of Osgiliath broken down and all the landings held
now by the Enemy?
`On which side will you journey? The way to Minas Tirith lies upon this
side, upon the west; but the straight road of the Quest lies east of the
River, upon the darker shore. Which shore will you now take? '
`If my advice is heeded, it will be the western shore, and the way to
Minas Tirith,' answered Boromir. `But I am not the leader of the Company.'
The others said nothing, and Aragorn looked doubtful and troubled.
`I see that you do not yet know what to do,' said Celeborn. `It is not
my part to choose for you; but I will help you as I may. There are some
among you who can handle boats: Legolas, whose folk know the swift Forest
River; and Boromir of Gondor; and Aragorn the traveller.'
`And one Hobbit! ' cried Merry. `Not all of us look on boats as wild
horses. My people live by the banks of the Brandywine.'
`That is well,' said Celeborn. `Then I will furnish your Company with
boats. They must be small and light, for if you go far by water, there are
places where you will be forced to carry them. You will come to the rapids
of Sarn Gebir, and maybe at last to the great falls of Rauros where the
River thunders down from Nen Hithoel; and there are other perils. Boats may
make your journey less toilsome for a while. Yet they will not give you
counsel: in the end you must leave them and the River, and turn west-or
east.'
Aragorn thanked Celeborn many times. The gift of boats comforted him
much, not least because there would now be no need to decide his course for
some days. The others, too, looked more hopeful. Whatever perils lay ahead,
it seemed better to float down the broad tide of Anduin to meet them than to
plod forward with bent backs. Only Sam was doubtful: he at any rate still
thought boats as bad as wild horses, or worse, and not all the dangers that
he had survived made him think better of them.
`All shall be prepared for you and await you at the haven before noon
tomorrow,' said Celeborn. 'I will send my people to you in the morning to
help you make ready for the journey. Now we will wish you all a fair night
and untroubled sleep.'
'Good night, my friends! ' said Galadriel. 'Sleep in peace! Do not
trouble your hearts overmuch with thought of the road tonight. Maybe the
paths that you each shall tread are already laid before your feet, though
you do not see them. Good night! '
The Company now took their leave and returned to their pavilion.
Legolas went with them, for this was to be their last night in Lothlurien,
and in spite of the words of Galadriel they wished to take counsel together.
For a long time they debated what they should do, and how it would be
best to attempt the fulfilling of their purpose with the Ring: but they came
to no decision. It was plain that most of them desired to go first to Minas
Tirith, and to escape at least for a while from the terror of the Enemy.
They would have been willing to follow a leader over the River and into the
shadow of Mordor; but Frodo spoke no word, and Aragorn was still divided in
his mind.
His own plan, while Gandalf remained with them, had been to go with
Boromir, and with his sword help to deliver Gondor. For he believed that the
message of the dreams was a summons, and that the hour had come at last
when
the heir of Elendil should come forth and strive with Sauron for the
mastery. But in Moria the burden of Gandalf had been laid on him; and he
knew that he could not now forsake the Ring, if Frodo refused in the end to
go with Boromir. And yet what help could he or any of the Company give to
Frodo, save to walk blindly with him into the darkness?
`I shall go to Minas Tirith, alone if need be, for it is my duty,' said
Boromir; and after that he was silent for a while, sitting with his eyes
fixed on Frodo, as if he was trying to read the Halfling's thoughts. At
length he spoke again, softly, as if he was debating with himself. `If you
wish only to destroy the Ring,' he said, `then there is little use in war
and weapons; and the Men of Minas Tirith cannot help. But if you wish to
destroy the armed might of the Dark Lord, then it is folly to go without
force into his domain; and folly to throw away.' He paused suddenly, as if
he had become aware that he was speaking his thoughts aloud. `It would be
folly to throw lives away, I mean,' he ended. `It is a choice between
defending a strong place and walking openly into the arms of death. At
least, that is how I see it.'
Frodo caught something new and strange in Boromir's glance, and he
looked hard at him. Plainly Boromir's thought was different from his final
words. It would be folly to throw away: what? The Ring of Power? He had said
something like this at the Council, but then he had accepted the correction
of Elrond. Frodo looked at Aragorn, but he seemed deep in his own thought
and made no sign that he had heeded Boromir's words. And so their debate
ended. Merry and Pippin were already asleep, and Sam was nodding. The
night
was growing old.
In the morning, as they were beginning to pack their slender goods,
Elves that could speak their tongue came to them and brought them many gifts
of food and clothing for the journey. The food was mostly in the form of
very thin cakes, made of a meal that was baked a light brown on the outside,
and inside was the colour of cream. Gimli took up one of the cakes and
looked at it with a doubtful eye.
`Cram,' he said under his breath, as he broke off a crisp corner and
nibbled at it. His expression quickly changed, and he ate all the rest of
the cake with relish.
`No more, no more!' cried the Elves laughing. `You have eaten enough
already for a long day's march.'
`I thought it was only a kind of cram, such as the Dale-men make for
journeys in the wild,' said the Dwarf.
`So it is,' they answered. `But we call it lembas or waybread, and it
is more strengthening than any food made by Men, and it is more pleasant
than cram, by all accounts.'
`Indeed it is,' said Gimli. 'Why it is better than the honey-cakes of
the Beornings, and that is great praise, for the Beornings are the best
bakers that I know of; but they are none too willing to deal out their cakes
to travellers in these days. You are kindly hosts! '
'All the same, we bid you spare the food,' they said. 'Eat little at a
time, and only at need. For these things are given to serve you when all
else fails. The cakes will keep sweet for many many days, if they are
unbroken and left in their leaf-wrappings, as we have brought them. One will
keep a traveller on his feet for a day of long labour, even if he be one of
the tall Men of Minas Tirith.'
The Elves next unwrapped and gave to each of the Company the clothes
they had brought. For each they had provided a hood and cloak, made
according to his size, of the light but warm silken stuff that the Galadhrim
wove. It was hard to say of what colour they were: grey with the hue of
twilight under the trees they seemed to be; and yet if they were moved, or
set in another light, they were green as shadowed leaves, or brown as fallow
fields by night, dusk-silver as water under the stars. Each cloak was
fastened about the neck with a brooch like a green leaf veined with silver.
`Are these magic cloaks? ' asked Pippin, looking at them with wonder.
`I do not know what you mean by that,' answered the leader of the
Elves. `They are fair garments, and the web is good, for it was made in this
land. They are elvish robes certainly, if that is what you mean. Leaf and
branch, water and stone: they have the hue and beauty of all these things
under the twilight of Lurien that we love; for we put the thought of all
that we love into all that we make. Yet they are garments, not armour, and
they will not turn shaft or blade. But they should serve you well: they are
light to wear, and warm enough or cool enough at need. And you will find
them a great aid in keeping out of the sight of unfriendly eyes, whether you
walk among the stones or the trees. You are indeed high in the favour of the
Lady! For she herself and her maidens wove this stuff; and never before have
we clad strangers in the garb of our own people.'
After their morning meal the Company said farewell to the lawn by the
fountain. Their hearts were heavy; for it was a fair place, and it had
become like home to them, though they could not count the days and nights
that they had passed there. As they stood for a moment looking at the white
water in the sunlight, Haldir came walking towards them over the green grass
of the glade. Frodo greeted him with delight.
'I have returned from the Northern Fences,' said the Elf, `and I am
sent now to be your guide again. The Dimrill Dale is full of vapour and
clouds of smoke, and the mountains are troubled. There are noises in the
deeps of the earth. If any of you had thought of returning northwards to
your homes, you would not have been able to pass that way. But come! Your
path now goes south.'
As they walked through Caras Galadhon the green ways were empty; but in
the trees above them many voices were murmuring and singing. They
themselves
went silently. At last Haldir led them down the southward slopes of the
hill, and they came again to the great gate hung with lamps, and to the
white bridge; and so they passed out and left the city of the Elves. Then
they turned away from the paved road and took a path that went off into a
deep thicket of mallorn-trees, and passed on, winding through rolling
woodlands of silver shadow, leading them ever down, southwards and
eastwards, towards the shores of the River.
They had gone some ten miles and noon was at hand when they came on a
high green wall. Passing through an opening they came suddenly out of the
trees. Before them lay a long lawn of shining grass, studded with golden
elanor that glinted in the sun. The lawn ran out into a narrow tongue
between bright margins: on the right and west the Silverlode flowed
glittering; on the left and east the Great River rolled its broad waters,
deep and dark. On the further shores the woodlands still marched on
southwards as far as the eye could see, but all the banks were bleak and
bare. No mallorn lifted its gold-hung boughs beyond the Land of Lurien.
On the bank of the Silverlode, at some distance up from the meeting of
the streams, there was a hythe of white stones and white wood. By it were
moored many boats and barges. Some were brightly painted, and shone with
silver and gold and green, but most were either white or grey. Three small
grey boats had been made ready for the travellers, and in these the Elves
stowed their goods. And they added also coils of rope, three to each boat.
Slender they looked, but strong, silken to the touch, grey of hue like the
elven-cloaks.
`What are these? ' asked Sam, handling one that lay upon the
greensward.
`Ropes indeed! ' answered an Elf from the boats. 'Never travel far
without a rope! And one that is long and strong and light. Such are these.
They may be a help in many needs.'
'You don't need to tell me that! ' said Sam. `I came without any and
I've been worried ever since. But I was wondering what these were made of,
knowing a bit about rope-making: it's in the family as you might say.'
`They are made of hithlain,' said the Elf, `but there is no time now to
instruct you in the art of their making. Had we known that this craft
delighted you, we could have taught you much. But now alas! unless you
should at some time return hither, you must be content with our gift. May it
serve you well! '
`Come! ' said Haldir. `All is now ready for you. Enter the boats! But
take care at first! '
'Heed the words! ' said the other Elves. 'These boats are light-built,
and they are crafty and unlike the boats of other folk. They will not sink,
lade them as you will; but they are wayward if mishandled. It would be wise
if you accustomed yourselves to stepping in and out, here where there is a
landing-place, before you set off downstream.'
The Company was arranged in this way: Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam were in
one boat; Boromir, Merry, and Pippin in another; and in the third were
Legolas and Gimli, who had now become fast friends. In this last boat most
of the goods and packs were stowed. The boats were moved and steered with
short-handled paddles that had broad leaf-shaped blades. When all was ready
Aragorn led them on a trial up the Silverlode. The current was swift and
they went forward slowly. Sam sat in the bows, clutching the sides, and
looking back wistfully to the shore. The sunlight glittering on the water
dazzled his eyes. As they passed beyond the green field of the Tongue, the
trees drew down to the river's brink. Here and there golden leaves tossed
and floated on the rippling stream. The air was very bright and still, and
there was a silence, except for the high distant song of larks.
They turned a sharp bend in the river, and there, sailing proudly down
the stream toward them, they saw a swan of great size. The water rippled on
either side of the white breast beneath its curving neck. Its beak shone
like burnished gold, and its eyes glinted like jet set in yellow stones; its
huge white wings were half lifted. A music came down the river as it drew
nearer; and suddenly they perceived that it was a ship, wrought and carved
with elven-skill in the likeness of a bird. Two elves clad in white steered
it with black paddles. In the midst of the vessel sat Celeborn, and behind
him stood Galadriel, tall and white; a circlet of golden flowers was in her
hair, and in her hand she held a harp, and she sang. Sad and sweet was the
sound of her voice in the cool clear air:
I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:
Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew.
Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the Sea,
And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree.
Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone,
In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion.
There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years,
While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears.
O Lurien! The Winter comes, the bare and leafless Day;
The leaves are falling in the stream, the River flows away.
O Lurien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither Shore
And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor.
But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me,
What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?
Aragorn stayed his boat as the Swan-ship drew alongside. The Lady ended
her song and greeted them. `We have come to bid you our last farewell,' she
said, `and to speed you with blessings from our land.'
`Though you have been our guests,' said Celeborn, `you have not yet
eaten with us, and we bid you, therefore, to a parting feast, here between
the flowing waters that will bear you far from Lurien.'
The Swan passed on slowly to the hythe, and they turned their boats and
followed it. There in the last end of Egladil upon the green grass the
parting feast was held; but Frodo ate and drank little, heeding only the
beauty of the Lady and her voice. She seemed no longer perilous or terrible,
nor filled with hidden power. Already she seemed to him, as by men of later
days Elves still at times are seen: present and yet remote, a living vision
of that which has already been left far behind by the flowing streams of
Time.
After they had eaten and drunk, sitting upon the grass, Celeborn spoke
to them again of their journey, and lifting his hand he pointed south to the
woods beyond the Tongue.
`As you go down the water,' he said, `you will find that the trees will
fail, and you will come to a barren country. There the River flows in stony
vale amid high moors, until at last after many leagues it comes to the tall
island of the Tindrock, that we call Tol Brandir. There it casts its arms
about the steep shores of the isle, and falls then with a great noise and
smoke over the cataracts of Rauros down into the Nindalf, the Wetwang as it
is called in your tongue. That is a wide region of sluggish fen where the
stream becomes tortuous and much divided. There the Entwash flows in by
many
mouths from the Forest of Fangorn in the west. About that stream, on this
side of the Great River, lies Rohan. On the further side are the bleak hills
of the Emyn Muil. The wind blows from the East there, for they look out over
the Dead Marshes and the Noman-lands to Cirith Gorgor and the black gates of
Mordor.
'Boromir, and any that go with him seeking Minas Tirith, will do well
to leave the Great River above Rauros and cross the Entwash before it finds
the marshes. Yet they should not go too far up that stream, nor risk
becoming entangled in the Forest of Fangorn. That is a strange land, and is
now little known. But Boromir and Aragorn doubtless do not need this
warning.'
'Indeed we have heard of Fangorn in Minas Tirith,' said Boromir. `But
what I have heard seems to me for the most part old wives' tales, such as we
tell to our children. All that lies north of Rohan is now to us so far away
that fancy can wander freely there. Of old Fangorn lay upon the borders of
our realm; but it is now many lives of men since any of us visited it, to
prove or disprove the legends that have come down from distant years.
`I have myself been at whiles in Rohan, but I have never crossed it
northwards. When I was sent out as a messenger, I passed through the Gap by
the skirts of the White Mountains, and crossed the Isen and the Greyflood
into Northerland. A long and wearisome journey. Four hundred leagues I
reckoned it, and it took me many months; for I lost my horse at Tharbad, at
the fording of the Greyflood. After that journey, and the road I have
trodden with this Company, I do not much doubt that I shall find a way
through Rohan, and Fangorn too, if need be.'
`Then I need say no more,' said Celeborn. 'But do not despise the lore
that has come down from distant years; for oft it may chance that old wives
keep in memory word of things that once were needful for the wise to know.'
Now Galadriel rose from the grass, and taking a cup from one of her
maidens she filled it with white mead and gave it to Celeborn.
'Now it is time to drink the cup of farewell,' she said. `Drink, Lord
of the Galadhrim! And let not your heart be sad though night must follow
noon, and already our evening draweth nigh.'
Then she brought the cup to each of the Company, and bade them drink
and farewell. But when they had drunk she commanded them to sit again on the
grass, and chairs were set for her and for Celeborn. Her maidens stood
silent about her, and a while she looked upon her guests. At last she spoke
again.
'We have drunk the cup of parting,' she said, `and the shadows fall
between us. But before you go, I have brought in my ship gifts which the
Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim now offer you in memory of Lothlurien.'
Then
she called to each in turn.
`Here is the gift of Celeborn and Galadriel to the leader of your
Company,' she said to Aragorn, and she gave him a sheath that had been made
to fit his sword. It was overlaid with a tracery of flowers and leaves
wrought of silver and gold, and on it were set in elven runes formed of many
gems the name And®ril and the lineage of the sword.
`The blade that is drawn from this sheath shall not be stained or
broken even in defeat,' she said. `But is there aught else that you desire
of me at our parting? For darkness will flow between us, and it may be that
we shall not meet again, unless it be far hence upon a road that has no
returning.'
And Aragorn answered: 'Lady, you know all my desire, and long held in
keeping the only treasure that I seek. Yet it is not yours to give me, even
if you would; and only through darkness shall I come to it.'
`Yet maybe this will lighten your heart,' said Galadriel; `for it was
left in my care to be given to you, should you pass through this land.' Then
she lifted from her lap a great stone of a clear green, set in a silver
brooch that was wrought in the likeness of an eagle with outspread wings;
and as she held it up the gem flashed like the sun shining through the
leaves of spring. `This stone I gave to Celebrnan my daughter, and she to
hers; and now it comes to you as a token of hope. In this hour take the name
that was foretold for you, Elessar, the Elfstone of the house of Elendil! '
Then Aragorn took the stone and pinned the brooch upon his breast, and
those who saw him wondered; for they had not marked before how tall and
kingly he stood, and it seemed to them that many years of toil had fallen
from his shoulders. `For the gifts that you have given me I thank you,' he
said, 'O Lady of Lurien of whom were sprung Celebrnan and Arwen
Evenstar.
What praise could I say more? '
The Lady bowed her head, and she turned then to Boromir, and to him she
gave a belt of gold; and to Merry and Pippin she gave small silver belts,
each with a clasp wrought like a golden flower. To Legolas she gave a bow
such as the Galadhrim used, longer and stouter than the bows of Mirkwood,
and strung with a string of elf-hair. With it went a quiver of arrows.
`For you little gardener and lover of trees,' she said to Sam, `I have
only a small gift.' She put into his hand a little box of plain grey wood,
unadorned save for a single silver rune upon the lid. `Here is set G for
Galadriel,' she said; `but also it may stand for garden in your tongue. In
this box there is earth from my orchard, and such blessing as Galadriel has
still to bestow is upon it. It will not keep you on your road, nor defend
you against any peril; but if you keep it and see your home again at last,
then perhaps it may reward you. Though you should find all barren and laid
waste, there will be few gardens in Middle-earth that will bloom like your
garden, if you sprinkle this earth there. Then you may remember Galadriel,
and catch a glimpse far off of Lurien, that you have seen only in our
winter. For our spring and our summer are gone by, and they will never be
seen on earth again save in memory.'
Sam went red to the ears and muttered something inaudible, as he
clutched the box and bowed as well as he could.
`And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves? ' said Galadriel turning
to Gimli.
`None, Lady,' answered Gimli. `It is enough for me to have seen the
Lady of the Galadhrim, and to have heard her gentle words.'
`Hear all ye Elves! ' she cried to those about her. `Let none say again
that Dwarves are grasping and ungracious! Yet surely, Gimli son of Gluin,
you desire something that I could give? Name it, I bid you! You shall not be
the only guest without a gift.'
`There is nothing, Lady Galadriel,' said Gimli, bowing low and
stammering. `Nothing, unless it might be-unless it is permitted to ask. nay,
to name a single strand of your hair, which surpasses the gold of the earth
as the stars surpass the gems of the mine. I do not ask for such a gift. But
you commanded me to name my desire.'
The Elves stirred and murmured with astonishment, and Celeborn gazed at
the Dwarf in wonder, but the Lady smiled. 'It is said that the skill of the
Dwarves is in their hands rather than in their tongues ' she said; `yet that
is not true of Gimli. For none have ever made to me a request so bold and
yet so courteous. And how shall I refuse, since I commanded him to speak?
But tell me, what would you do with such a gift? '
`Treasure it, Lady,' he answered, `in memory of your words to me at our
first meeting. And if ever I return to the smithies of my home, it shall be
set in imperishable crystal to be an heirloom of my house, and a pledge of
good will between the Mountain and the Wood until the end of days.'
Then the Lady unbraided one of her long tresses, and cut off three
golden hairs, and laid them in Gimli's hand. `These words shall go with the
gift,' she said. `I do not foretell, for all foretelling is now vain: on the
one hand lies darkness, and on the other only hope. But if hope should not
fail, then I say to you, Gimli son of Gluin, that your hands shall flow with
gold, and yet over you gold shall have no dominion.
`And you, Ring-bearer,' she said, turning to Frodo. `I come to you last
who are not last in my thoughts. For you I have prepared this.' She held up
a small crystal phial: it glittered as she moved it, and rays of white light
sprang from her hand. 'In this phial,' she said, `is caught the light of
Edrendil's star, set amid the waters of my fountain. It will shine still
brighter when night is about you. May it be a light to you in dark places,
when all other lights go out. Remember Galadriel and her Mirror! '
Frodo took the phial, and for a moment as it shone between them, he saw
her again standing like a queen, great and beautiful, but no longer
terrible. He bowed, but found no words to say.
Now the Lady arose, and Celeborn led them back to the hythe. A yellow
noon lay on the green land of the Tongue, and the water glittered with
silver. All at last was made ready. The Company took their places in the
boats as before. Crying farewell, the Elves of Lurien with long grey poles
thrust them out into the flowing stream, and the rippling waters bore them
slowly away. The travellers sat still without moving or speaking. On the
green bank near to the very point of the Tongue the Lady Galadriel stood
alone and silent. As they passed her they turned and their eyes watched her
slowly floating away from them. For so it seemed to them: Lurien was
slipping backward, like a bright ship masted with enchanted trees, sailing
on to forgotten shores, while they sat helpless upon the margin of the grey
and leafless world.
Even as they gazed, the Silverlode passed out into the currents of the
Great River, and their boats turned and began to speed southwards. Soon the
white form of the Lady was small and distant. She shone like a window of
glass upon a far hill in the westering sun, or as a remote lake seen from a
mountain: a crystal fallen in the lap of the land. Then it seemed to Frodo
that she lifted her arms in a final farewell, and far but piercing-clear on
the following wind came the sound of her voice singing. But now she sang in
the ancient tongue of the Elves beyond the Sea, and he did not understand
the words: fair was the music, but it did not comfort him.
Yet as is the way of Elvish words, they remained graven in his memory,
and long afterwards he interpreted them, as well as he could: the language
was that of Elven-song and spoke of things little known on Middle-earth.
Ai! lauril lantar lassi s®rinen,
Yjni ®nutiml ve rbmar aldaron!
Yjni ve lintl yuldar avbnier
mi oromardi lisse-miruvureva
And®nl pella, Vardo tellumar
nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni
umaryo airetbri-lnrinen.
Sn man i yulma nin enquantuva?
An sn Tintalll Varda Oiolosslo
ve fanyar mbryat Elentbri ortanl
ar ilyl tier undulbvl lumbull;
ar sindanuriello caita mornil
i falmalinnar imbl met, ar hnsil
unt®pa Calaciryo mnri oiall.
Si vanwa nb, Rumello vanwa, Valimar!
Nambril! Nai hiruvalyl Valimar.
Nai elyl hiruva. Nambril!
`Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind, long years numberless as
the wings of trees! The long years have passed like swift draughts of the
sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West, beneath the blue vaults of Varda
wherein the stars tremble in the song of her voice, holy and queenly. Who
now shall refill the cup for me? For now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of
the Stars, from Mount Everwhite has uplifted her hands like clouds, and all
paths are drowned deep in shadow; and out of a grey country darkness lies on
the foaming waves between us, and mist covers the jewels of Calacirya for
ever. Now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar! Farewell! Maybe thou
shalt find Valimar. Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell! ' Varda is the
name of that Lady whom the Elves in these lands of exile name Elbereth.
Suddenly the River swept round a bend, and the banks rose upon either
side, and the light of Lurien was hidden. To that fair land Frodo never came
again.
The travellers now turned their faces to the journey; the sun was
before them, and their eyes were dazzled, for all were filled with tears.
Gimli wept openly.
`I have looked the last upon that which was fairest,' he said to
Legolas his companion. `Henceforward I will call nothing fair, unless it be
her gift.' He put his hand to his breast.
`Tell me, Legolas, why did I come on this Quest? Little did I know
where the chief peril lay! Truly Elrond spoke, saying that we could not
foresee what we might meet upon our road. Torment in the dark was the danger
that I feared, and it did not hold me back. But I would not have come, had I
known the danger of light and joy. Now I have taken my worst wound in this
parting, even if I were to go this night straight to the Dark Lord. Alas for
Gimli son of Gluin! '
`Nay! ' said Legolas. `Alas for us all! And for all that walk the world
in these after-days. For such is the way of it: to find and lose, as it
seems to those whose boat is on the running stream. But I count you blessed,
Gimli son of Gluin: for your loss you suffer of your own free will, and you
might have chosen otherwise. But you have not forsaken your companions,
and
the least reward that you shall have is that the memory of Lothlurien shall
remain ever clear and unstained in your heart, and shall neither fade nor
grow stale.'
`Maybe,' said Gimli; `and I thank you for your words. True words
doubtless; yet all such comfort is cold. Memory is not what the heart
desires. That is only a mirror, be it clear as Kheled-zvram. Or so says the
heart of Gimli the Dwarf. Elves may see things otherwise. Indeed I have
heard that for them memory is more like to the waking world than to a dream.
Not so for Dwarves.
'But let us talk no more of it. Look to the boat! She is too low in the
water with all this baggage, and the Great River is swift. I do not wish to
drown my grief in cold water.' He took up a paddle, and steered towards the
western bank, following Aragorn's boat ahead, which had already moved out of
the middle stream.
So the Company went on their long way, down the wide hurrying waters,
borne ever southwards. Bare woods stalked along either bank, and they could
not see any glimpse of the lands behind. The breeze died away and the River
flowed without a sound. No voice of bird broke the silence. The sun grew
misty as the day grew old, until it gleamed in a pale sky like a high white
pearl. Then it faded into the West, and dusk came early, followed by a grey
and starless night. Far into the dark quiet hours they floated on, guiding
their boats under the overhanging shadows of the western woods. Great trees
passed by like ghosts, thrusting their twisted thirsty roots through the
mist down into the water. It was dreary and cold. Frodo sat and listened to
the faint lap and gurgle of the River fretting among the tree-roots and
driftwood near the shore, until his head nodded and he fell into an uneasy
sleep.