The Fellowship Of The Ring - Chapter 16 - The Bridge of Khazad-dym

The Company of the Ring stood silent beside the tomb of Balin. Frodo
thought of Bilbo and his long friendship with the dwarf, and of Balin's
visit to the Shire long ago. In that dusty chamber in the mountains it
seemed a thousand years ago and on the other side of the world.
At length they stirred and looked up, and began to search for anything
that would give them tidings of Balin's fate, or show what had become of his
folk. There was another smaller door on the other side of the chamber, under
the shaft. By both the doors they could now see that many bones were lying,
and among them were broken swords and axe-heads, and cloven shields and
helms. Some of the swords were crooked: orc-scimitars with blackened blades.
There were many recesses cut in the rock of the walls, and in them were
large iron-bound chests of wood. All had been broken and plundered; but
beside the shattered lid of one there lay the remains of a book. It had been
slashed and stabbed and partly burned, and it was so stained with black and
other dark marks like old blood that little of it could be read. Gandalf
lifted it carefully, but the leaves crackled and broke as he laid it on the
slab. He pored over it for some time without speaking. Frodo and Gimli
standing at his side could see, as he gingerly turned the leaves, that they
were written by many different hands, in runes, both of Moria and of Dale,
and here and there in Elvish script.
At last Gandalf looked up. 'It seems to be a record of the fortunes of
Balin's folk,' he said. `I guess that it began with their coming to Dimrill
Dale nigh on thirty years ago: the pages seem to have numbers referring to
the years after their arrival. The top page is marked one -- three, so at
least two are missing from the beginning. Listen to this!
'We drove out orcs from the great gate and guard -- I think; the next
word is blurred and burned; probably room -- we slew many in the bright -- I
think -- sun in the dale. Flui was killed by an arrow. He slew the great.
Then there is a blur followed by Flui under grass near Mirror mere. The next
line or two I cannot read. Then comes We have taken the twentyfirst hall of
North end to dwell in. There is I cannot read what. A shaft is mentioned.
Then Balin has set up his seat in the Chamber of Mazarbul.'
'The Chamber of Records,' said Gimli. `I guess that is where we now
stand.'
`Well, I can read no more for a long way,' said Gandalf, 'except the
word gold, and Durin's Axe and something helm. Then Balin is now lord of
Moria. That seems to end a chapter. After some stars another hand begins,
and I can see we found truesilver, and later the word wellforged and then
something, I have it! mithril; and the last two lines Uin to seek for the
upper armouries of Third Deep, something go westwards, a blur, to Hollin
gate.'
Gandalf paused and set a few leaves aside. 'There are several pages of
the same sort, rather hastily written and much damaged, he said; `but I can
make little of them in this light. Now there must be a number of leaves
missing, because they begin to be numbered five, the fifth year of the
colony, I suppose. Let me see! No, they are too cut and stained; I cannot
read them. We might do better in the sunlight. Wait! Here is something: a
large bold hand using an Elvish script.'
'That would be Ori's hand,' said Gimli, looking over the wizard's arm.
`He could write well and speedily, and often used the Elvish characters.'
`I fear he had ill tidings to record in a fair hand,' said Gandalf.
'The first clear word is sorrow, but the rest of the line is lost, unless it
ends in estre. Yes, it must be yestre followed by day being the tenth of
novembre Balin lord of Moria fell in Dimrill Dale. He went alone to look in
Mirror mere. an orc shot him from behind a stone. we slew the orc, hut many
more ... up from east up the Silverlode. The remainder of the page is so
blurred that I can hardly make anything out, but I think I can read we have
barred the gates, and then can hold them long if, and then perhaps horrible
and suffer. Poor Balin! He seems to have kept the title that he took for
less than five years. I wonder what happened afterwards; but there is no
time to puzzle out the last few pages. Here is the last page of all.' He
paused and sighed.
`It is grim reading,' he said. 'I fear their end was cruel. Listen! We
cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and second
hall. Frbr and Luni and Nbli fell there. Then there are four lines smeared
so that I can only read went 5 days ago. The last lines run the pool is up
to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took Uin. We cannot get
out. The end comes, and then drums, drums in the deep. I wonder what that
means. The last thing written is in a trailing scrawl of elf-letters: they
are coming. There is nothing more.' Gandalf paused and stood in silent
thought.
A sudden dread and a horror of the chamber fell on the Company. `We
cannot get out,' muttered Gimli. 'It was well for us that the pool had sunk
a little, and that the Watcher was sleeping down at the southern end.'
Gandalf raised his head and looked round. `They seem to have made a
last stand by both doors,' he said; 'but there were not many left by that
time. So ended the attempt to retake Moria! It was valiant but foolish. The
time is not come yet. Now, I fear, we must say farewell to Balin son of
Fundin. Here he must lie in the halls of his fathers. We will take this
book, the Book of Mazarbul, and look at it more closely later. You had
better keep it, Gimli, and take it back to Dbin, if you get a chance. It
will interest him, though it will grieve him deeply. Come, let us go! The
morning is passing.'
'Which way shall we go? ' asked Boromir.
'Back to the hall,' answered Gandalf. 'But our visit to this room has
not been in vain. I now know where we are. This must be, as Gimli says, the
Chamber of Mazarbul; and the hall must be the twenty-first of the North-end.
Therefore we should leave by the eastern arch of the hall, and bear right
and south, and go downwards. The Twenty-first Hall should be on the Seventh
Level, that is six above the level of the Gates. Come now! Back to the hall!
'
Gandalf had hardly spoken these words, when there came a great noise: a
rolling Boom that seemed to come from depths far below, and to tremble in
the stone at their feet. They sprang towards the door in alarm. Doom, doom
it rolled again, as if huge hands were turning the very caverns of Moria
into a vast drum. Then there came an echoing blast: a great horn was blown
in the hall, and answering horns and harsh cries were heard further off.
There was a hurrying sound of many feet.
`They are coming! ' cried Legolas.
'We cannot get out,' said Gimli.
`Trapped! ' cried Gandalf. `Why did I delay? Here we are, caught, just
as they were before. But I was not here then. We will see what ----'
Doom, doom came the drum-beat and the walls shook.
'Slam the doors and wedge them! ' shouted Aragorn. 'And keep your packs
on as long as you can: we may get a chance to cut our way out yet.'
`No! ' said Gandalf. 'We must not get shut in. Keep the east door ajar!
We will go that way, if we get a chance.'
Another harsh horn-call and shrill cries rang out. Feet were coming
down the corridor. There was a ring and clatter as the Company drew their
swords. Glamdring shone with a pale light, and Sting glinted at the edges.
Boromir set his shoulder against the western door.
`Wait a moment! Do not close it yet! ' said Gandalf. He sprang forward
to Boromir's side and drew himself up to his full height.
'Who comes hither to disturb the rest of Balin Lord of Moria? ' he
cried in a loud voice.
There was a rush of hoarse laughter, like the fall of sliding stones
into a pit; amid the clamour a deep voice was raised in command. Doom,
boom,
doom went the drums in the deep.
With a quick movement Gandalf stepped before the narrow opening of the
door and thrust forward his staff: There was a dazzling flash that lit the
chamber and the passage outside. For an instant the wizard looked out.
Arrows whined and whistled down the corridor as he sprang back.
'There are Orcs, very many of them,' he said. `And some are large and
evil: black Uruks of Mordor. For the moment they are hanging back, but there
is something else there. A great cave-troll, I think, or more than one.
There is no hope of escape that way.'
'And no hope at all, if they come at the other door as well,' said
Boromir.
'There is no sound outside here yet,' said Aragorn, who was standing by
the eastern door listening. `The passage on this side plunges straight down
a stair: it plainly does not lead back towards the hall. But it is no good
flying blindly this way with the pursuit just behind. We cannot block the
door. Its key is gone and the lock is broken, and it opens inwards. We must
do something to delay the enemy first. We will make them fear the Chamber of
Mazarbul!' he said grimly feeling the edge of his sword, And®ril.
Heavy feet were heard in the corridor. Boromir flung himself against
the door and heaved it to; then he wedged it with broken sword-blades and
splinters of wood. The Company retreated to the other side of the chamber.
But they had no chance to fly yet. There was a blow on the door that made it
quiver; and then it began to grind slowly open, driving back the wedges. A
huge arm and shoulder, with a dark skin of greenish scales, was thrust
through the widening gap. Then a great, flat, toeless foot was forced
through below. There was a dead silence outside.
Boromir leaped forward and hewed at the arm with all his might; but his
sword rang, glanced aside, and fell from his shaken hand. The blade was
notched.
Suddenly, and to his own surprise, Frodo felt a hot wrath blaze up in
his heart. `The Shire! ' he cried, and springing beside Boromir, he stooped,
and stabbed with Sting at the hideous foot. There was a bellow, and the foot
jerked back, nearly wrenching Sting from Frodo's arm. Black drops dripped
from the blade and smoked on the floor. Boromir hurled himself against the
door and slammed it again.
`One for the Shire! ' cried Aragorn. `The hobbit's bite is deep! You
have a good blade, Frodo son of Drogo! '
There was a crash on the door, followed by crash after crash. Rams and
hammers were beating against it. It cracked and staggered back, and the
opening grew suddenly wide. Arrows came whistling in, but struck the
northern wall, and fell harmlessly to the floor. There was a horn-blast and
a rush of feet, and orcs one after another leaped into the chamber.
How many there were the Company could not count. The affray was sharp,
but the orcs were dismayed by the fierceness of the defence. Legolas shot
two through the throat. Gimli hewed the legs from under another that had
sprung up on Balin's tomb. Boromir and Aragorn slew many. When thirteen
had
fallen the rest fled shrieking. leaving the defenders unharmed, except for
Sam who had a scratch along the scalp. A quick duck had saved him; and he
had felled his orc: a sturdy thrust with his Barrow-blade. A fire was
smouldering in his brown eyes that would have made Ted Sandyman step
backwards, if he had seen it.
`Now is the time! ' cried Gandalf. `Let us go, before the troll
returns!'
But even as they retreated, and before Pippin and Merry had reached the
stair outside, a huge orc-chieftain, almost man-high, clad in black mail
from head to foot, leaped into the chamber; behind him his followers
clustered in the doorway. His broad flat face was swart, his eyes were like
coals, and his tongue was red; he wielded a great spear. With a thrust of
his huge hide shield he turned Boromir's sword and bore him backwards,
throwing him to the ground. Diving under Aragorn's blow with the speed of a
striking snake he charged into the Company and thrust with his spear
straight at Frodo. The blow caught him on the right side, and Frodo was
hurled against the wall and pinned. Sam, with a cry, hacked at the
spear-shaft, and it broke. But even as the orc flung down the truncheon and
swept out his scimitar, And®ril came down upon his helm. There was a flash
like flame and the helm burst asunder. The orc fell with cloven head. His
followers fled howling, as Boromir and Aragorn sprang at them.
Doom, doom went the drums in the deep. The great voice rolled out
again.
'Now! ' shouted Gandalf. 'Now is the last chance. Run for it! '
Aragorn picked up Frodo where he lay by the wall and made for the
stair, pushing Merry and Pippin in front of him. The others followed; but
Gimli had to be dragged away by Legolas: in spite of the peril he lingered
by Balin's tomb with his head bowed. Boromir hauled the eastern door to,
grinding upon its hinges: it had great iron rings on either side, but could
not be fastened.
'I am all right,' gasped Frodo. `I can walk. Put me down! '
Aragorn nearly dropped him in his amazement. 'I thought you were dead!
' he cried.
'Not yet! ' said Gandalf. 'But there is time for wonder. Off you go,
all of you, down the stairs! Wait a few minutes for me at the bottom, but if
I do not come soon, go on! Go quickly and choose paths leading right and
downwards.'
'We cannot leave you to hold the door alone! ' said Aragorn.
`Do as I say! ' said Gandalf fiercely. `Swords are no more use here.
Go!'
The passage was lit by no shaft and was utterly dark. They groped their
way down a long flight of steps, and then looked back; but they could see
nothing, except high above them the faint glimmer of the wizard's staff. He
seemed to be still standing on guard by the closed door. Frodo breathed
heavily and leaned against Sam, who put his arms about him. They stood
peering up the stairs into the darkness. Frodo thought he could hear the
voice of Gandalf above, muttering words that ran down the sloping roof with
a sighing echo. He could not catch what was said. The walls seemed to be
trembling. Every now and again the drum-beats throbbed and rolled: doom,
doom.
Suddenly at the top of the stair there was a stab of white light. Then
there was a dull rumble and a heavy thud. The drum-beats broke out wildly:
doom-boom, doom-boom, and then stopped. Gandalf came flying down the
steps
and fell to the ground in the midst of the Company.
`Well, well! That's over! ' said the wizard struggling to his feet. `I
have done all that I could. But I have met my match, and have nearly been
destroyed. But don't stand here! Go on! You will have to do without light
for a while: I am rather shaken. Go on! Go on! Where are you, Gimli? Come
ahead with me! Keep close behind, all of you!'
They stumbled after him wondering what had happened. Doom, doom
went
the drum-beats again: they now sounded muffled and far away, but they were
following. There was no other sound of pursuit, neither tramp of feet, nor
any voice. Gandalf took no turns, right or left, for the passage seemed to
be going in the direction that he desired. Every now and again it descended
a flight of steps, fifty or more, to a lower level. At the moment that was
their chief danger; for in the dark they could not see a descent, until they
came on it, and put their feet out into emptiness. Gandalf felt the ground
with his staff like a blind man.
At the end of an hour they had gone a mile, or maybe a little more, and
had descended many flights of stairs. There was still no sound of pursuit.
Almost they began to hope that they would escape. At the bottom of the
seventh flight Gandalf halted.
`It is getting hot! ' he gasped. `We ought to be down at least to the
level of the Gates now. Soon I think we should look for a left-hand turn to
take us east. I hope it is not far. I am very weary. I must rest here a
moment, even if all the orcs ever spawned are after us.'
Gimli took his arm and helped him down to a seat on the step. `What
happened away up there at the door? ' he asked. `Did you meet the beater of
the drums? '
'I do not know,' answered Gandalf. `But I found myself suddenly faced
by something that I have not met before. I could think of nothing to do but
to try and put a shutting-spell on the door. I know many; but to do things
of that kind rightly requires time, and even then the door can be broken by
strength.
`As I stood there I could hear orc-voices on the other side: at any
moment I thought they would burst it open. I could not hear what was said;
they seemed to be talking in their own hideous language. All I caught was
ghvsh; that is "fire". Then something came into the chamber -- I felt it
through the door, and the orcs themselves were afraid and fell silent. It
laid hold of the iron ring, and then it perceived me and my spell.
'What it was I cannot guess, but I have never felt such a challenge.
The counter-spell was terrible. It nearly broke me. For an instant the door
left my control and began to open! I had to speak a word of Command. That
proved too great a strain. The door burst in pieces. Something dark as a
cloud was blocking out all the light inside, and I was thrown backwards down
the stairs. All the wall gave way, and the roof of the chamber as well, I
think.
`I am afraid Balin is buried deep, and maybe something else is buried
there too. I cannot say. But at least the passage behind us was completely
blocked. Ah! I have never felt so spent, but it is passing. And now what
about you, Frodo? There was not time to say so, but I have never been more
delighted in my life than when you spoke. I feared that it was a brave but
dead hobbit that Aragorn was carrying.'
`What about me? ' said Frodo. 'I am alive, and whole I think. I am
bruised and in pain, but it is not too bad.'
`Well,' said Aragorn, `I can only say that hobbits are made of a stuff
so tough that I have never met the like of it. Had I known, I would have
spoken softer in the Inn at Bree! That spear-thrust would have skewered a
wild boar! '
'Well, it did not skewer me, I am glad to say,' said Frodo; `though I
feel as if I had been caught between a hammer and an anvil.' He said no
more. He found breathing painful.
'You take after Bilbo,' said Gandalf. `There is more about you than
meets the eye, as I said of him long ago.' Frodo wondered if the remark
meant more than it said.
They now went on again. Before long Gimli spoke. He had keen eyes in
the dark. `I think,' he said, `that there is a light ahead. But it is not
daylight. It is red. What can it be? '
`Ghvsh!' muttered Gandalf. `I wonder if that is what they meant: that
the lower levels are on fire? Still, we can only go on.'
Soon the light became unmistakable, and could be seen by all. It was
flickering and glowing on the walls away down the passage before them. They
could now see their way: in front the road sloped down swiftly, and some way
ahead there stood a low archway; through it the glowing light came. The air
became very hot.
When they came to the arch Gandalf went through, signing to them to
wait. As he stood just beyond the opening they saw his face lit by a red
glow. Quickly he stepped back.
`There is some new devilry here,' he said, 'devised for our welcome no
doubt. But I know now where we are: we have reached the First Deep, the
level immediately below the Gates. This is the Second Hall of Old Moria; and
the Gates are near: away beyond the eastern end, on the left, not more than
a quarter of a mile. Across the Bridge, up a broad stair, along a wide road
through the First Hall, and out! But come and look! '
They peered out. Before them was another cavernous hall. It was loftier
and far longer than the one in which they had slept. They were near its
eastern end; westward it ran away into darkness. Down the centre stalked a
double line of towering pillars. They were carved like boles of mighty trees
whose boughs upheld the roof with a branching tracery of stone. Their stems
were smooth and black, but a red glow was darkly mirrored in their sides.
Right across the floor, close to the feet of two huge pillars a great
fissure had opened. Out of it a fierce red light came, and now and again
flames licked at the brink and curled about the bases of the columns. Wisps
of dark smoke wavered in the hot air.
'If we had come by the main road down from the upper halls, we should
have been trapped here,' said Gandalf. `Let us hope that the fire now lies
between us and pursuit. Come! There is no time to lose.'
Even as he spoke they heard again the pursuing drum-beat: Doom, doom,
doom. Away beyond the shadows at the western end of the hall there came
cries and horn-calls. Doom, doom: the pillars seemed to tremble and the
flames to quiver.
`Now for the last race! ' said Gandalf. 'If the sun is shining outside
we may still escape. After me! '
He turned left and sped across the smooth floor of the hall. The
distance was greater than it had looked. As they ran they heard the beat and
echo of many hurrying feet behind. A shrill yell went up: they had been
seen. There was a ring and clash of steel. An arrow whistled over Frodo's
head.
Boromir laughed. `They did not expect this,' he said. `The fire has cut
them off. We are on the wrong side! '
`Look ahead! ' called Gandalf. `The Bridge is near. It is dangerous and
narrow.'
Suddenly Frodo saw before him a black chasm. At the end of the hall the
floor vanished and fell to an unknown depth. The outer door could only be
reached by a slender bridge of stone, without kerb or rail, that spanned the
chasm with one curving spring of fifty feet. It was an ancient defence of
the Dwarves against any enemy that might capture the First Hall and the
outer passages. They could only pass across it in single file. At the brink
Gandalf halted and the others came up in a pack behind.
'Lead the way, Gimli! ' he said. 'Pippin and Merry next. Straight on
and up the stair beyond the door! '
Arrows fell among them. One struck Frodo and sprang back. Another
pierced Gandalf's hat and stuck there like a black feather. Frodo looked
behind. Beyond the fire he saw swarming black figures: there seemed to be
hundreds of orcs. They brandished spears and scimitars which shone red as
blood in the firelight. Doom, doom rolled the drum-beats, growing louder and
louder, doom, doom.
Legolas turned and set an arrow to the string, though it was a long
shot for his small bow. He drew, but his hand fell, and the arrow slipped to
the ground. He gave a cry of dismay and fear. Two great trolls appeared;
they bore great slabs of stone, and flung them down to serve as gangways
over the fire. But it was not the trolls that had filled the Elf with
terror. The ranks of the orcs had opened, and they crowded away, as if they
themselves were afraid. Something was coming up behind them. What it was
could not be seen: it was like a great shadow, in the middle of which was a
dark form, of man-shape maybe, yet greater; and a power and terror seemed to
be in it and to go before it.
It came to the edge of the fire and the light faded as if a cloud had
bent over it. Then with a rush it leaped across the fissure. The flames
roared up to greet it, and wreathed about it; and a black smoke swirled in
the air. Its streaming mane kindled, and blazed behind it. In its right hand
was a blade like a stabbing tongue of fire; in its left it held a whip of
many thongs.
'Ai! ai! ' wailed Legolas. 'A Balrog! A Balrog is come! '
Gimli stared with wide eyes. `Durin's Bane! ' he cried, and letting his
axe fall he covered his face.
'A Balrog,' muttered Gandalf. `Now I understand.' He faltered and
leaned heavily on his staff. `What an evil fortune! And I am already weary.'
The dark figure streaming with fire raced towards them. The orcs yelled
and poured over the stone gangways. Then Boromir raised his horn and blew.
Loud the challenge rang and bellowed, like the shout of many throats under
the cavernous roof. For a moment the orcs quailed and the fiery shadow
halted. Then the echoes died as suddenly as a flame blown out by a dark
wind, and the enemy advanced again.
'Over the bridge!' cried Gandalf, recalling his strength. `Fly! This is
a foe beyond any of you. I must hold the narrow way. Fly! ' Aragorn and
Boromir did not heed the command, but still held their ground, side by side,
behind Gandalf at the far end of the bridge. The others halted just within
the doorway at the hall's end, and turned, unable to leave their leader to
face the enemy alone.
The Balrog reached the bridge. Gandalf stood in the middle of the span,
leaning on the staff in his left hand, but in his other hand Glamdring
gleamed, cold and white. His enemy halted again, facing him, and the shadow
about it reached out like two vast wings. It raised the whip, and the thongs
whined and cracked. Fire came from its nostrils. But Gandalf stood firm.
`You cannot pass,' he said. The orcs stood still, and a dead silence
fell. `I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You
cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udyn. Go back to the
Shadow! You cannot pass.'
The Balrog made no answer. The fire in it seemed to die, but the
darkness grew. It stepped forward slowly on to the bridge, and suddenly it
drew itself up to a great height, and its wings were spread from wall to
wall; but still Gandalf could be seen, glimmering in the gloom; he seemed
small, and altogether alone: grey and bent, like a wizened tree before the
onset of a storm.
From out of the shadow a red sword leaped flaming.
Glamdring glittered white in answer.
There was a ringing clash and a stab of white fire. The Balrog fell
back and its sword flew up in molten fragments. The wizard swayed on the
bridge, stepped back a pace, and then again stood still.
'You cannot pass! ' he said.
With a bound the Balrog leaped full upon the bridge. Its whip whirled
and hissed.
'He cannot stand alone! ' cried Aragorn suddenly and ran back along the
bridge. 'Elendil!' he shouted. 'I am with you, Gandalf! '
`Gondor! ' cried Boromir and leaped after him.
At that moment Gandalf lifted his staff, and crying aloud he smote the
bridge before him. The staff broke asunder and fell from his hand. A
blinding sheet of white flame sprang up. The bridge cracked. Right at the
Balrog's feet it broke, and the stone upon which it stood crashed into the
gulf, while the rest remained, poised, quivering like a tongue of rock
thrust out into emptiness.
With a terrible cry the Balrog fell forward, and its shadow plunged
down and vanished. But even as it fell it swung its whip, and the thongs
lashed and curled about the wizard's knees, dragging him to the brink. He
staggered and fell, grasped vainly at the stone, and slid into the abyss.
'Fly, you fools! ' he cried, and was gone.
The fires went out, and blank darkness fell. The Company stood rooted
with horror staring into the pit. Even as Aragorn and Boromir came flying
back, the rest of the bridge cracked and fell. With a cry Aragorn roused
them.
'Come! I will lead you now! ' he called. 'We must obey his last
command. Follow me! '
They stumbled wildly up the great stairs beyond the door. Aragorn
leading, Boromir at the rear. At the top was a wide echoing passage. Along
this they fled. Frodo heard Sam at his side weeping, and then he found that
he himself was weeping as he ran. Doom, doom, doom the drum-beats rolled
behind, mournful now and slow; doom!
They ran on. The light grew before them; great shafts pierced the roof.
They ran swifter. They passed into a hall, bright with daylight from its
high windows in the east. They fled across it. Through its huge broken doors
they passed, and suddenly before them the Great Gates opened, an arch of
blazing light.
There was a guard of orcs crouching in the shadows behind the great
door posts towering on either side, but the gates were shattered and cast
down. Aragorn smote to the ground the captain that stood in his path, and
the rest fled in terror of his wrath. The Company swept past them and took
no heed of them. Out of the Gates they ran and sprang down the huge and
age-worn steps, the threshold of Moria.
Thus, at last, they came beyond hope under the sky and felt the wind on
their faces.
They did not halt until they were out of bowshot from the walls.
Dimrill Dale lay about them. The shadow of the Misty Mountains lay upon it,
but eastwards there was a golden light on the land. It was but one hour
after noon. The sun was shining; the clouds were white and high.
They looked back. Dark yawned the archway of the Gates under the
mountain-shadow. Faint and far beneath the earth rolled the slow drum-beats:
doom. A thin black smoke trailed out. Nothing else was to be seen; the dale
all around was empty. Doom. Grief at last wholly overcame them, and they
wept long: some standing and silent, some cast upon the ground. Doom, doom.
The drum-beats faded.