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the tramp of iron…shod feet； and upon the road there rang the swift clatter of hoofs。
'Quick； Sam！ Over we go！' cried Frodo。 They scrambled on to the low parapet of the bridge。
Fortunately there was no longer any dreadful drop into the gulf； for the slopes of the Morgai had
already risen almost to the level of the road； but it was too dark for them to guess the depth of the
fall。
'Well； here goes； Mr。 Frodo；' said Sam。 'Good…bye！'
He let go。 Frodo followed。 And even as they fell they heard the rush of horsemen sweeping over
the bridge and the rattle of orc…feet running up behind。 But Sam would have laughed； if he had
dared。 Half fearing a breaking plunge down on to unseen rocks the hobbits landed； in a drop of no
more than a dozen feet； with a thud and a crunch into the last thing that they had expected： a tangle
of thorny bushes。 There Sam lay still； softly sucking a scratched hand。
When the sound of hoof and foot had passed he ventured a whisper。 'Bless me； Mr。 Frodo； but I
didn't know as anything grew in Mordor！ But if I had a'known； this is just what I'd have looked for。
These thorns must be a foot long by the feel of them； they've stuck through everything I've got on。
Wish I'd a'put that mail…shirt on！'
'Orc…mail doesn't keep these thorns out；' said Frodo。 'Not even a leather jerkin is any good。'
They had a struggle to get out of the thicket。 The thorns and briars were as tough as wire and as
clinging as claws。 Their cloaks were rent and tattered before they broke free at last。
'Now down we go； Sam；' Frodo whispered。 'Down into the valley quick； and then turn northward；
as soon as ever we can。'
Day was ing again in the world outside； and far beyond the glooms of Mordor the Sun was
climbing over the eastern rim of Middle…earth； but here all was still dark as night。 The Mountain
smouldered and its fires went out。 The glare faded from the cliffs。 The easterly wind that had been
blowing ever since they left Ithilien now seemed dead。 Slowly and painfully they clambered down；
groping； stumbling； scrambling among rock and briar and dead wood in the blind shadows； down
and down until they could go no further。
At length they stopped； and sat side by side； their backs against a boulder。 Both were sweating。
'If Shagrat himself was to offer me a glass of water； I'd shake his hand；' said Sam。
'Don't say such things！' said Frodo。 'It only makes it worse。' Then he stretched himself out； dizzy
and weary； and he spoke no more for a while。 At last with a struggle he got up again。 To his
amazement he found that Sam was asleep。 'Wake up； Sam！' he said。 'e on！ It's time we made
another effort。'
Sam scrambled to his feet。 'Well I never！' he said。 'I must have dropped off。 It's a long time； Mr。
Frodo； since I had a proper sleep； and my eyes just closed down on their own。'
Frodo now led the way； northward as near as he could guess； among the stones and boulders
lying thick at the bottom of the great ravine。 But presently he stopped again。
'It's no good； Sam；' he said。 'I can't manage it。 This mail…shirt； I mean。 Not in my present state。
Even my mithril…coat seemed heavy when I was tired。 This is far heavier。 And what's the use of it？
We shan't win through by fighting。'
'But we may have some to do；' said Sam。 'And there's knives and stray arrows。 That Gollum isn't
dead； for one thing。 I don't like to think of you with naught but a bit of leather between you and a
stab in the dark。'
'Look here； Sam dear lad；' said Frodo： 'I am tired； weary； I haven't a hope left。 But I have to go
on trying to get to the Mountain； as long as I can move。 The Ring is enough。 This extra weight is
killing me。 It must go。 But don't think I'm ungrateful。 I hate to think of the foul work you must have
had among the bodies to find it for me。'
'Don't talk about it； Mr。 Frodo。 Bless you！ I'd carry you on my back； if I could。 Let it go then！'
Frodo laid aside his cloak and took off the orc…mail and flung it away。 He shivered a little。 'What
I really need is something warm；' he said。 'It's gone cold； or else I've caught a chill。'
'You can have my cloak； Mr。 Frodo；' said Sam。 He unslung his pack and took out the elven…
cloak。 'How's this； Mr。 Frodo？' he said。 'You wrap that orc…rag close round you； and put the belt
outside it。 Then this can go over all。 It don't look quite orc…fashion； but it'll keep you warmer； and I
daresay it'll keep you from harm better than any other gear。 It was made by the Lady。'
Frodo took the cloak and fastened the brooch。 'That's better！' he said。 'I feel much lighter。 I can
go on now。 But this blind dark seems to be getting into my heart。 As I lay in prison； Sam。 I tried to
remember the Brandywine； and Woody End； and The Water running through the mill at Hobbiton。
But I can't see them now。'
'There now； Mr。 Frodo； it's you that's talking of water this time！' said Sam。 'If only the Lady
could see us or hear us； I'd say to her： Your Ladyship； all we want is light and water： just clean
water and plain daylight； better than any jewels； begging your pardon。 But it's a long way to
Lórien。' Sam sighed and waved his hand towards the heights of the Ephel Dúath； now only to be
guessed as a deeper blackness against the black sky。
They started off again。 They had not gone far when Frodo paused。 'There's a Black Rider over
us；' he said。 'I can feel it。 We had better keep still for a while。'
Crouched under a great boulder they sat facing back westward and did not speak for some time。
Then Frodo breathed a sigh of relief。 'It's passed；' he said。 They stood up； and then they both stared
in wonder。 Away to their left； southward； against a sky that was turning grey； the peaks and high
ridges of the great range began to appear dark and black； visible shapes。 Light was growing behind
them。 Slowly it crept towards the North。 There was battle far above in the high spaces of the air。
The billowing clouds of Mordor were being driven back； their edges tattering as a wind out of the
living world came up and swept the fumes and smokes towards the dark land of their home。 Under
the lifting skirts of the dreary canopy dim light leaked into Mordor like pale morning through the
grimed window of a prison。
'Look at it； Mr。 Frodo！' said Sam。 'Look at it！ The wind's changed。 Something's happening。 He's
not having it all his own way。 His darkness is breaking up out in the world there。 I wish I could see
what is going on！'
It was the morning of the fifteenth of March； and over the Vale of Anduin the Sun was rising
above the eastern shadow； and the south…west wind was blowing。 Théoden lay dying on the
Pelennor Fields。
As Frodo and Sam stood and gazed； the rim of light spread all along the line of the Ephel Dúath；
and then they saw a shape； moving at a great speed out of the West； at first only a black speck
against the glimmering strip above the mountain…tops； but growing； until it plunged like a bolt into
the dark canopy and passed high above them。 As it went it sent out a long shrill cry； the voice of a
Nazg？l； but this cry no longer held any terror for them： it was a cry of woe and dismay； ill tidings
for the Dark Tower。 The Lord of the Ring…wraiths had met his doom。
'What did I tell you？ Something's happening！' cried Sam。' The war's going well； said Shagrat；
but Gorbag he wasn't so sure。 And he was right there too。 Things are looking up； Mr。 Frodo。
Haven't you got some hope now？'
'Well no； not much； Sam；' Frodo sighed。 'That's away beyond the mountains。 We're going east
not west。 And I'm so tired。 And the Ring is so heavy； Sam。 And I begin to see it in my mind all the
time； like a great wheel of fire。'
Sam's quick spirits sank again at once。 He looked at his master anxiously； and he took his hand。
'e； Mr。 Frodo！' he said。 'I've got one thing I wanted： a bit of light。 Enough to help us； and yet I
guess it's dangerous too。 Try a bit further； and then we'll lie close and have a rest。 But take a morsel
to eat now； a bit of the Elves' food； it may hearten you。'
Sharing a wafer of _lembas_； and munching it as best they could with their parched mouths。
Frodo and Sam plodded on。 The light； though no more than a grey dusk； was now enough for them
to see that they were deep in the valley between the mountains。 It sloped up gently northward； and
at its bottom went the bed of a now dry and withered stream。 Beyond its stony course they saw a
beaten path that wound its way under the feet of the westward cliffs。 Had they known； they could
have reached it quicker； for it was a track that left the main Morgul…road at the western bridge…end
and went down by a long stair cut in the rock to the valley's bottom。 It was used by patrols or by
messengers going swiftly to lesser posts and strongholds north…away； between Cirith Ungol and the
narrows of Isenmouthe； the iron jaws of Carach Angren。
It was perilous for the hobbits to use such a path； but they needed speed； and Frodo felt that he
could not face the toil of scrambling among the boulders or in the trackless glens of the Morgai。
And he judged that northward was； maybe； the way that their hunters would least expect them to
take。 The road east to the plain； or the pass back westward； those they would first search most
thoroughly。 Only when he was well north of the Tower did he mean to turn and seek for some way
to take him east； east on the last desperate stage of his journey。 So now they crossed the stony bed
and took to the orc…path； and for some time they marched along it。 The cliffs at their left were
overhung； and they could not be seen from above； but the path made many bends； and at each bend
they gripped their sword…hilts and went forward cautiously。
The light grew no stronger； for Orodruin was still belching forth a great fume that； beaten
upwards by the opposing airs； mounted higher and higher； until it reached a region above the wind
and spread in an immeasurable roof； whose central pillar rose out of the shadows beyond their view。
They had trudged for more than an hour when they heard a sound that brought them to a halt。
Unbelievable； but unmistakable。 Water trickling。 Out of a gully on the left； so sharp and narrow that
it looked as if the black cliff had been cloven by some huge axe； water came dripping down： the
last remains； maybe； of some sweet rain gathered from sunlit seas； but ill…fated to fall at last upon
the walls of the Black Land and wander fruitless down into the dust。 Here it came out of the rock in
a little falling streamlet； and flowed across the path； and turning south ran away swiftly to be lost
among the dead stones。
Sam sprang towards it。 'If ever I see the Lady again； I will tell her！' he cried。 'Light and now
water！' Then he stopped。 'Let me drink first Mr。 Frodo；' he said。
'All right； but there's room enough for two。'
'I didn't mean that；' said Sam。 'I mean： if it's poisonous； or something that will show its badness
quick； well； better me than you； master； if you understand me。'
'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 ores 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 c