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- Джон Толкин
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- Властелин колец: Две башни
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- Стр. 304/332
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If
once
he
could
do
that
impossible
thing
,
then
somehow
the
errand
would
be
accomplished
,
or
so
it
seemed
to
him
in
that
dark
hour
of
weariness
,
still
labouring
in
the
stony
shadows
under
Cirith
Ungol
.
In
a
dark
crevice
between
two
great
piers
of
rock
they
sat
down
:
Frodo
and
Sam
a
little
way
within
.
and
Gollum
crouched
upon
the
ground
near
the
opening
.
There
the
hobbits
took
what
they
expected
would
be
their
last
meal
before
they
went
down
into
the
Nameless
Land
,
maybe
the
last
meal
they
would
ever
eat
together
.
Some
of
the
food
of
Gondor
they
ate
,
and
wafers
of
the
waybread
of
the
Elves
.
and
they
drank
a
little
.
But
of
their
water
they
were
sparing
and
took
only
enough
to
moisten
their
dry
mouths
.
'
I
wonder
when
we
'll
find
water
again
?
'
said
Sam
.
'
But
I
suppose
even
over
there
they
drink
?
Orcs
drink
,
do
n't
they
?
'
'
Yes
,
they
drink
,
'
said
Frodo
.
'
But
do
not
let
us
speak
of
that
.
Such
drink
is
not
for
us
.
'
'
Then
all
the
more
need
to
fill
our
bottles
,
'
said
Sam
.
'
But
there
is
n't
any
water
up
here
:
not
a
sound
or
a
trickle
have
I
heard
.
And
anyway
Faramir
said
we
were
not
to
drink
any
water
in
Morgul
.
'
'N
o
water
flowing
out
of
Imlad
Morgul
,
were
his
words
,
'
said
Frodo
.
'
We
are
not
in
that
valley
now
,
and
if
we
came
on
a
spring
it
would
be
flowing
into
it
and
not
out
of
it
.
'
'
I
would
n't
trust
it
,
'
said
Sam
,
'n
ot
till
I
was
dying
of
thirst
.
There
's
a
wicked
feeling
about
this
place
.
'
He
sniffed
.
'
And
a
smell
,
I
fancy
.
Do
you
notice
it
?
A
queer
kind
of
a
smell
,
stuffy
.
I
do
n't
like
it
.
'
'
I
do
n't
like
anything
here
at
all
'
said
Frodo
,
'
step
or
stone
,
breath
or
bone
.
Earth
,
air
and
water
all
seem
accursed
.
But
so
our
path
is
laid
.
'
'
Yes
,
that
's
so
,
'
said
Sam
.
'
And
we
should
n't
be
here
at
all
,
if
we
'd
known
more
about
it
before
we
started
.
But
I
suppose
it
's
often
that
way
.
The
brave
things
in
the
old
tales
and
songs
,
Mr.
Frodo
:
adventures
,
as
I
used
to
call
them
.
I
used
to
think
that
they
were
things
the
wonderful
folk
of
the
stories
went
out
and
looked
for
,
because
they
wanted
them
,
because
they
were
exciting
and
life
was
a
bit
dull
,
a
kind
of
a
sport
,
as
you
might
say
.
But
that
's
not
the
way
of
it
with
the
tales
that
really
mattered
,
or
the
ones
that
stay
in
the
mind
.
Folk
seem
to
have
been
just
landed
in
them
,
usually
-
their
paths
were
laid
that
way
,
as
you
put
it
.
But
I
expect
they
had
lots
of
chances
,
like
us
,
of
turning
back
,
only
they
did
n't
.
And
if
they
had
,
we
should
n't
know
,
because
they
'd
have
been
forgotten
.
We
hear
about
those
as
just
went
on
-
and
not
all
to
a
good
end
,
mind
you
;
at
least
not
to
what
folk
inside
a
story
and
not
outside
it
call
a
good
end
.
You
know
,
coming
home
,
and
finding
things
all
right
,
though
not
quite
the
same
-
like
old
Mr
Bilbo
.
But
those
are
n't
always
the
best
tales
to
hear
,
though
they
may
be
the
best
tales
to
get
landed
in
!
I
wonder
what
sort
of
a
tale
we
've
fallen
into
?
'
