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- Джон Толкин
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- Властелин колец: Две башни
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- Стр. 293/332
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'
Are
we
rested
?
Have
we
had
beautiful
sleep
?
'
he
said
.
'
Let
's
go
!
'
'
We
are
n't
,
and
we
have
n't
,
'
growled
Sam
.
'
But
we
'll
go
if
we
must
.
'
Gollum
dropped
at
once
from
the
branches
of
the
tree
on
to
all
fours
,
and
the
hobbits
followed
more
slowly
.
As
soon
as
they
were
down
they
went
on
again
with
Gollum
leading
,
eastwards
,
up
the
dark
sloping
land
.
They
could
see
little
,
for
the
night
was
now
so
deep
that
they
were
hardly
aware
of
the
stems
of
trees
before
they
stumbled
against
them
.
The
ground
became
more
broken
and
walking
was
more
difficult
,
but
Gollum
seemed
in
no
way
troubled
.
He
led
them
through
thickets
and
wastes
of
brambles
;
sometimes
round
the
lip
of
a
deep
cleft
or
dark
pit
,
sometimes
down
into
black
bush-shrouded
hollows
and
out
again
;
but
if
ever
they
went
a
little
downward
,
always
the
further
slope
was
longer
and
steeper
.
They
were
climbing
steadily
.
At
their
first
halt
they
looked
back
,
and
they
could
dimly
perceive
the
roofs
of
the
forest
they
had
left
behind
lying
like
a
vast
dense
shadow
,
a
darker
night
under
the
dark
blank
sky
.
There
seemed
to
be
a
great
blackness
looming
slowly
out
of
the
East
,
eating
up
the
faint
blurred
stars
.
Later
the
sinking
moon
escaped
from
the
pursuing
cloud
,
but
it
was
ringed
all
about
with
a
sickly
yellow
glare
.
At
last
Gollum
turned
to
the
hobbits
.
'D
ay
soon
,
'
he
said
.
'
Hobbits
must
hurry
.
Not
safe
to
stay
in
the
open
in
these
places
.
Make
haste
!
'
He
quickened
his
pace
,
and
they
followed
him
wearily
.
Soon
they
began
to
climb
up
on
to
a
great
hog-back
of
land
.
For
the
most
part
it
was
covered
with
a
thick
growth
of
gorse
and
whortleberry
,
and
low
tough
thorns
,
though
here
and
there
clearings
opened
,
the
scars
of
recent
fires
.
The
gorse-bushes
became
more
frequent
as
they
got
nearer
the
top
;
very
old
and
tall
they
were
,
gaunt
and
leggy
below
but
thick
above
,
and
already
putting
out
yellow
flowers
that
glimmered
in
the
gloom
and
gave
a
faint
sweet
scent
.
So
tall
were
the
spiny
thickets
that
the
hobbits
could
walk
upright
under
them
,
passing
through
long
dry
aisles
carpeted
with
a
deep
prickly
mould
.
On
the
further
edge
of
this
broad
hill-back
they
stayed
their
march
and
crawled
for
hiding
underneath
a
tangled
knot
of
thorns
.
Their
twisted
boughs
,
stooping
to
the
ground
,
were
overridden
by
a
clambering
maze
of
old
briars
.
Deep
inside
there
was
a
hollow
hall
,
raftered
with
dead
branch
and
bramble
,
and
roofed
with
the
first
leaves
and
shoots
of
spring
.
There
they
lay
for
a
while
,
too
tired
yet
to
eat
;
and
peering
out
through
the
holes
in
the
covert
they
watched
for
the
slow
growth
of
day
.
But
no
day
came
,
only
a
dead
brown
twilight
.
In
the
East
there
was
a
dull
red
glare
under
the
lowering
cloud
:
it
was
not
the
red
of
dawn
.
Across
the
tumbled
lands
between
,
the
mountains
of
the
Ephel
Dúath
frowned
at
them
,
black
and
shapeless
below
where
night
lay
thick
and
did
not
pass
away
,
above
with
jagged
tops
and
edges
outlined
hard
and
menacing
against
the
fiery
glow
.
Away
to
their
right
a
great
shoulder
of
the
mountains
stood
out
,
dark
and
black
amid
the
shadows
,
thrusting
westward
.
'
Which
way
do
we
go
from
here
?
'
asked
Frodo
.
