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- Джон Толкин
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- Властелин колец: Возвращение короля
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- Стр. 163/277
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"
I
do
.
But
I
think
we
'll
trust
our
luck
together
,
Sam
;
or
our
blessing
.
Still
,
be
careful
now
,
if
it
's
very
cold
!
"
The
water
was
cool
but
not
icy
,
and
it
had
an
unpleasant
taste
,
at
once
bitter
and
oily
,
or
so
they
would
have
said
at
home
.
Here
it
seemed
beyond
all
praise
,
and
beyond
fear
or
prudence
.
They
drank
their
fill
,
and
Sam
replenished
his
water-bottle
.
After
that
Frodo
felt
easier
,
and
they
went
on
for
several
miles
,
until
the
broadening
of
the
road
and
the
beginnings
of
a
rough
wall
along
its
edge
warned
them
that
they
were
drawing
near
to
another
orc-hold
.
"
This
is
where
we
turn
aside
,
Sam
,
"
said
Frodo
.
"
And
we
must
turn
east
.
"
He
sighed
as
he
looked
at
the
gloomy
ridges
across
the
valley
.
"
I
have
just
about
enough
strength
left
to
find
some
hole
away
up
there
.
And
then
I
must
rest
a
little
.
"
The
river-bed
was
now
some
way
below
the
path
.
They
scrambled
down
to
it
,
and
began
to
cross
it
.
To
their
surprise
they
came
upon
dark
pools
fed
by
threads
of
water
trickling
down
from
some
source
higher
up
the
valley
.
Upon
its
outer
marges
under
the
westward
mountains
Mordor
was
a
dying
land
,
but
it
was
not
yet
dead
.
And
here
things
still
grew
,
harsh
,
twisted
,
bitter
,
struggling
for
life
.
In
the
glens
of
the
Morgai
on
the
other
side
of
the
valley
low
scrubby
trees
lurked
and
clung
,
coarse
grey
grass-tussocks
fought
with
the
stones
,
and
withered
mosses
crawled
on
them
;
and
everywhere
great
writhing
,
tangled
brambles
sprawled
.
Some
had
long
stabbing
thorns
,
some
hooked
barbs
that
rent
like
knives
.
The
sullen
shrivelled
leaves
of
a
past
year
hung
on
them
,
grating
and
rattling
in
the
sad
airs
,
but
their
maggot-ridden
buds
were
only
just
opening
.
Flies
,
dun
or
grey
,
or
black
,
marked
like
orcs
with
a
red
eye-shaped
blotch
,
buzzed
and
stung
;
and
above
the
briar-thickets
clouds
of
hungry
midges
danced
and
reeled
.
"
Orc-gear
's
no
good
,
"
said
Sam
,
waving
his
arms
.
"
I
wish
I
'd
got
an
orc
's
hide
!
"
At
last
Frodo
could
go
no
further
.
They
had
climbed
up
a
narrow
shelving
ravine
,
but
they
still
had
a
long
way
to
go
before
they
could
even
come
in
sight
of
the
last
craggy
ridge
.
"
I
must
rest
now
,
Sam
,
and
sleep
if
I
can
.
"
said
Frodo
.
He
looked
about
,
but
there
seemed
nowhere
even
for
an
animal
to
crawl
into
in
this
dismal
country
.
At
length
,
tired
out
,
they
slunk
under
a
curtain
of
brambles
that
hung
down
like
a
mat
over
a
low
rock-face
.
There
they
sat
and
made
such
a
meal
as
they
could
.
Keeping
back
the
precious
lembas
for
the
evil
days
ahead
,
they
ate
the
half
of
what
remained
in
Sam
's
bag
of
Faramir
's
provision
:
some
dried
fruit
,
and
a
small
slip
of
cured
meat
;
and
they
sipped
some
water
.
They
had
drunk
again
from
the
pools
in
the
valley
,
but
they
were
very
thirsty
again
.
There
was
a
bitter
tang
in
the
air
of
Mordor
that
dried
the
mouth
.
When
Sam
thought
of
water
even
his
hopeful
spirit
quailed
.
Beyond
the
Morgai
there
was
the
dreadful
plain
of
Gorgoroth
to
cross
.
"
Now
you
go
to
sleep
first
,
Mr.
Frodo
,
"
he
said
.
"
It
's
getting
dark
again
.
I
reckon
this
day
is
nearly
over
.
"
