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- Стр. 102/163
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Now
the
very
last
barrel
was
being
rolled
to
the
doors
!
In
despair
and
not
knowing
what
else
to
do
,
poor
little
Bilbo
caught
hold
of
it
and
was
pushed
over
the
edge
with
it
.
Down
into
the
water
he
fell
,
splash
!
into
the
cold
dark
water
with
the
barrel
on
top
of
him
.
He
came
up
again
spluttering
and
clinging
to
the
wood
like
a
rat
,
but
for
all
his
efforts
he
could
not
scramble
on
top
.
Every
time
he
tried
,
the
barrel
rolled
round
and
ducked
him
under
again
.
It
was
really
empty
,
and
floated
light
as
a
cork
.
Though
his
ears
were
full
of
water
,
he
could
hear
the
elves
still
singing
in
the
cellar
above
.
Then
suddenly
the
trapdoors
fell
to
with
a
boom
and
their
voices
faded
away
.
He
was
in
the
dark
tunnel
,
floating
in
icy
water
,
all
alone-for
you
can
not
count
friends
that
are
all
packed
up
in
barrels
.
Very
soon
a
grey
patch
came
up
in
the
darkness
ahead
.
He
heard
the
creak
of
the
water-gate
being
hauled
up
,
and
he
found
that
he
was
in
the
midst
of
a
bobbing
and
bumping
mass
of
casks
and
tubs
all
pressing
together
to
pass
under
the
arch
and
get
out
into
the
open
stream
.
He
had
as
much
as
he
could
do
to
prevent
himself
from
being
hustled
and
battered
to
bits
;
but
at
last
the
jostling
crowd
began
to
break
up
and
swing
off
,
one
by
one
,
under
the
stone
arch
and
away
.
Then
he
saw
that
it
would
have
been
no
good
even
if
he
had
managed
to
get
astride
his
barrel
,
for
there
was
no
room
to
spare
,
not
even
for
a
hobbit
,
between
its
top
and
the
suddenly
stooping
roof
where
the
gate
was
.
Out
they
went
under
the
overhanging
branches
of
the
trees
on
either
bank
.
Bilbo
wondered
what
the
dwarves
were
feeling
and
whether
a
lot
of
water
was
getting
into
their
tubs
.
Some
of
those
that
bobbed
along
by
him
in
the
gloom
seemed
pretty
low
in
the
water
,
and
he
guessed
that
these
had
dwarves
inside
.
"
I
do
hope
I
put
the
lids
on
tight
enough
!
"
he
thought
,
but
before
long
he
was
worrying
too
much
about
himself
to
remember
the
dwarves
.
He
managed
to
keep
his
head
above
the
water
,
but
he
was
shivering
with
the
cold
,
and
he
wondered
if
he
would
die
of
it
before
the
luck
turned
,
and
how
much
longer
he
would
be
able
to
hang
on
,
and
whether
he
should
risk
the
chance
of
letting
go
and
trying
to
swim
to
the
bank
.
The
luck
turned
all
right
before
long
:
the
eddying
current
carried
several
barrels
close
ashore
at
one
point
and
there
for
a
while
they
stuck
against
some
hidden
root
.
Then
Bilbo
took
the
opportunity
of
scrambling
up
the
side
of
his
barrel
while
it
was
held
steady
against
another
.
Up
he
crawled
like
a
drowned
rat
,
and
lay
on
the
top
spread
out
to
keep
the
balance
as
best
he
could
.
The
breeze
was
cold
but
better
than
the
water
,
and
he
hoped
he
would
not
suddenly
roll
off
again
when
they
started
off
once
more
.
Before
long
the
barrels
broke
free
again
and
turned
and
twisted
off
down
the
stream
,
and
out
into
the
main
current
Then
he
found
it
quite
as
difficult
to
stick
on
as
he
had
feared
;
but
he
managed
it
somehow
,
though
it
was
miserably
uncomfortable
.
Luckily
he
was
very
light
,
and
the
barrel
was
a
good
big
one
and
being
rather
leaky
had
now
shipped
a
small
amount
of
water
.
All
the
same
it
was
like
trying
to
ride
,
without
bridle
or
stirrups
,
a
round-bellied
pony
that
was
always
thinking
of
rolling
on
the
grass
.
In
this
way
at
last
Mr.
Baggins
came
to
a
place
where
the
trees
on
either
hand
grew
thinner
.
He
could
see
the
paler
sky
between
them
.
The
dark
river
opened
suddenly
wide
,
and
there
it
was
joined
to
the
main
water
of
the
Forest
River
flowing
down
in
haste
from
the
king
's
great
doors
.
There
was
a
dim
sheet
of
water
no
longer
overshadowed
,
and
on
its
sliding
surface
there
were
dancing
and
broken
reflections
of
clouds
and
of
stars
.
Then
the
hurrying
water
of
the
Forest
River
swept
all
the
company
of
casks
and
tubs
away
to
the
north
bank
,
in
which
it
had
eaten
out
a
wide
bay
.
This
had
a
shingly
shore
under
hanging
banks
and
was
walled
at
the
eastern
end
by
a
little
jutting
cape
of
hard
rock
.
On
the
shallow
shore
most
of
the
barrels
ran
aground
,
though
a
few
went
on
to
bump
against
the
stony
pier
.
There
were
people
on
the
look-out
on
the
banks
.
They
quickly
poled
and
pushed
all
the
barrels
together
into
the
shallows
,
and
when
they
had
counted
them
they
roped
them
together
and
left
them
till
the
morning
.
Poor
dwarves
!
Bilbo
was
not
so
badly
off
now
.
He
slipped
from
his
barrel
and
waded
ashore
,
and
then
sneaked
along
to
some
huts
that
he
could
see
near
the
water
's
edge
.
He
no
longer
thought
twice
about
picking
up
a
supper
uninvited
if
he
got
the
chance
,
he
had
been
obliged
to
do
it
for
so
long
,
and
he
knew
only
too
well
what
it
was
to
be
really
hungry
,
not
merely
politely
interested
in
the
dainties
of
a
well-filled
larder
.
Also
he
had
caught
a
glimpse
of
a
fire
through
the
trees
,
and
that
appealed
to
him
with
his
dripping
and
ragged
clothes
clinging
to
him
cold
and
clammy
.
There
is
no
need
to
tell
you
much
of
his
adventures
that
night
,
for
now
we
are
drawing
near
the
end
of
the
eastward
journey
and
coming
to
the
last
and
greatest
adventure
,
so
we
must
hurry
on
.
Of
course
helped
by
his
magic
ring
he
got
on
very
well
at
first
,
but
he
was
given
away
in
the
end
by
his
wet
footsteps
and
the
trail
of
drippings
that
he
left
wherever
he
went
or
sat
;
and
also
he
began
to
snivel
,
and
wherever
he
tried
to
hide
he
was
found
out
by
the
terrific
explosions
of
his
suppressed
sneezes
.
Very
soon
there
was
a
fine
commotion
in
the
village
by
the
riverside
;
but
Bilbo
escaped
into
the
woods
carrying
a
loaf
and
a
leather
bottle
of
wine
and
a
pie
that
did
not
belong
to
him
.
The
rest
of
the
night
he
had
to
pass
wet
as
he
was
and
far
from
a
fire
,
but
the
bottle
helped
him
to
do
that
,
and
he
actually
dozed
a
little
on
some
dry
leaves
,
even
though
the
year
was
getting
late
and
the
air
was
chilly
.
He
woke
again
with
a
specially
loud
sneeze
.
It
was
already
grey
morning
,
and
there
was
a
merry
racket
down
by
the
river
.
They
were
making
up
a
raft
of
barrels
,
and
the
raft-elves
would
soon
be
steering
it
off
down
the
stream
to
Lake-town
.
Bilbo
sneezed
again
.
He
was
no
longer
dripping
but
he
felt
cold
all
over
.
He
scrambled
down
as
fast
as
his
stiff
legs
would
take
him
and
managed
just
in
time
to
get
on
to
the
mass
of
casks
without
being
noticed
in
the
general
bustle
.
Luckily
there
was
no
sun
at
the
time
to
cast
an
awkward
shadow
,
and
for
a
mercy
he
did
not
sneeze
again
for
a
good
while
.
There
was
a
mighty
pushing
of
poles
.
The
elves
that
were
standing
in
the
shallow
.
water
heaved
and
shoved
.
The
barrels
now
all
lashed
together
creaked
and
fretted
.
.
"
This
is
a
heavy
load
!
"
some
grumbled
.
"
They
float
too
deep-some
of
these
are
never
empty
