The Lord of the Rings-指环王(英文版)-第44章

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Men　of　the　West　brought　to　Middle　earth。　Athelas　they　named　it；　and　it　grows　now　sparsely　and　only　near　places　where　they　dwelt　or　camped　of　old；　and　it　is　not　known　in　the　North；　except　to　some　of　those　who　wander　in　the　Wild。　It　has　great　virtues；　but　over　such　a　wound　as　this　its　healing　powers　may　be　small。'

He　threw　the　leaves　into　boiling　water　and　bathed　Frodo's　shoulder。　The　fragrance　of　the　steam　was　refreshing；　and　those　that　were　unhurt　felt　their　minds　calmed　and　cleared。　The　herb　had　also　some　power　over　the　wound；　for　Frodo　felt　the　pain　and　also　the　sense　of　frozen　cold　lessen　in　his　side；　but　the　life　did　not　return　to　his　arm；　and　he　could　not　raise　or　use　his　hand。　He　bitterly　regretted　his　foolishness；　and　reproached　himself　for　weakness　of　will；　for　he　now　perceived　that　in　putting　on　the　Ring　he　obeyed　not　his　own　desire　but　the　manding　wish　of　his　enemies。　He　wondered　if　he　would　remain　maimed　for　life；　and　how　they　would　now　manage　to　continue　their　journey。　He　fell　too　weak　to　stand。

The　others　were　discussing　this　very　question。　They　quickly　decided　to　leave　Weathertop　as　soon　as　possible。　'I　think　now；'　said　Strider；　'that　the　enemy　has　been　watching　this　place　for　some　days。　If　Gandalf　ever　came　here；　then　he　must　have　been　forced　to　ride　away；　and　he　will　not　return。　In　any　case　we　are　in　great　peril　here　after　dark；　since　the　attack　of　last　night；　and　we　can　hardly　meet　greater　danger　wherever　we　go。'

As　soon　as　the　daylight　was　full；　they　had　some　hurried　food　and　packed。　It　was　impossible　for　Frodo　to　walk；　so　they　divided　the　greater　part　of　their　baggage　among　the　four　of　them；　and　put　Frodo　on　the　pony。　In　the　last　few　days　the　poor　beast　had　improved　wonderfully；　it　already　seemed　fatter　and　stronger；　and　had　begun　to　show　an　affection　for　its　new　masters；　especially　for　Sam。　Bill　Ferny's　treatment　must　have　been　very　hard　for　the　journey　in　the　wild　to　seem　so　much　better　than　its　former　life。

They　started　off　in　a　southerly　direction。　This　would　mean　crossing　the　Road；　but。　it　ore　wooded　country。　And　they　needed　fuel；　for　Strider　said　that　Frodo　must　be　kept　warm；　especially　at　night；　while　fire　would　be　some　protection　for　them　all。　It　was　also　his　plan　to　shorten　their　journey　by　cutting　across　another　great　loop　of　the　Road：　east　beyond　Weathertop　it　changed　its　course　and　took　a　wide　bend　northwards。

They　made　their　way　slowly　and　cautiously　round　the　southwestern　slopes　of　the　hill；　and　came　in　a　little　while　to　the　edge　of　the　Road。　There　was　no　sign　of　the　Riders。　But　even　as　they　were　hurrying　across　they　heard　far　away　two　cries：　a　cold　voice　calling　and　a　cold　voice　answering。　Trembling　they　sprang　forward；　and　made　for　the　thickets　that　lay　ahead。　The　land　before　them　sloped　away　southwards；　but　it　was　wild　and　pathless；　bushes　and　stunted　trees　grew　in　dense　patches　with　wide　barren　spaces　in　between。　The　grass　was　scanty；　coarse；　and　grey；　and　the　leaves　in　the　thickets　were　faded　and　falling。　It　was　a　cheerless　land；　and　their　journey　was　slow　and　gloomy。　They　spoke　little　as　they　trudged　along。　Frodo's　heart　was　grieved　as　he　watched　them　walking　beside　him　with　their　heads　down；　and　their　backs　bowed　under　their　burdens。　Even　Strider　seemed　tired　and　heavyhearted。

Before　the　first　day's　march　was　over　Frodo's　pain　began　to　grow　again；　but　he　did　not　speak　of　it　for　a　long　time。　Four　days　passed；　without　the　ground　or　the　scene　changing　much；　except　that　behind　them　Weathertop　slowly　sank；　and　before　them　the　distant　mountains　loomed　a　little　nearer。　Yet　since　that　far　cry　they　had　seen　and　heard　no　sign　that　the　enemy　had　marked　their　flight　or　followed　them。　They　dreaded　the　dark　hours；　and　kept　watch　in　pairs　by　night；　expecting　at　any　time　to　see　black　shapes　stalking　in　the　grey　night；　dimly　lit　by　the　cloudveiled　moon；　but　they　saw　nothing；　and　heard　no　sound　but　the　sigh　of　withered　leaves　and　grass。　Not　once　did　they　feel　the　sense　of　present　evil　that　had　assailed　them　before　the　attack　in　the　dell。　It　seemed　too　much　to　hope　that　the　Riders　had　already　lost　their　trail　again。　Perhaps　they　were　waiting　to　make　some　ambush　in　a　narrow　place？

At　the　end　of　the　fifth　day　the　ground　began　once　more　to　rise　slowly　out　of　the　wide　shallow　valley　into　which　they　had　descended。　Strider　now　turned　their　course　again　northeastwards；　and　on　the　sixth　day　they　reached　the　top　of　a　long　slowclimbing　slope；　and　saw　far　ahead　a　huddle　of　wooded　hills。　Away　below　them　they　could　see　the　Road　sweeping　round　the　feet　of　the　hills；　and　to　their　right　a　grey　river　gleamed　pale　in　the　thin　sunshine。　In　the　distance　they　glimpsed　yet　another　river　in　a　stony　valley　halfveiled　in　mist。

〃I　am　afraid　we　must　go　back　to　the　Road　here　for　a　while；'　said　Strider。　'We　have　now　e　to　the　River　Hoarwell；　that　the　Elves　call　Mitheithel。　It　flows　down　out　of　the　Ettenmoors；　the　trollfells　north　of　Rivendell；　and　joins　the　Loudwater　away　in　the　South。　Some　call　it　the　Greyflood　after　that。　It　is　a　great　water　before　it　finds　the　Sea。　There　is　no　way　over　it　below　its　sources　in　the　Ettenmoors；　except　by　the　Last　Bridge　on　which　the　Road　crosses。'

'What　is　that　other　river　we　can　see　far　away　there？'　asked　Merry。

'That　is　Loudwater；　the　Bruinen　of　Rivendell；'　answered　Strider。　'The　Road　runs　along　the　edge　of　the　hills　for　many　miles　from　the　Bridge　to　the　Ford　of　Bruinen。　But　I　have　not　yet　thought　how　we　shall　cross　that　water。　One　river　at　a　time！　We　shall　be　fortunate　indeed　if　we　do　not　find　the　Last　Bridge　held　against　us。'

Next　day；　early　in　the　morning；　they　came　down　again　to　the　borders　of　the　Road。　Sam　and　Strider　went　forward；　but　they　found　no　sign　of　any　travellers　or　riders。　Here　under　the　shadow　of　the　hills　there　had　been　some　rain。　Strider　judged　that　it　had　fallen　two　days　before；　and　had　washed　away　all　footprints。　No　horseman　had　passed　since　then；　as　far　as　he　could　see。

They　hurried　along　with　all　the　speed　they　could　make；　and　after　a　mile　or　two　they　saw　the　Last　Bridge　ahead；　at　the　bottom　of　a　short　steep　slope。　They　dreaded　to　see　black　figures　waiting　there；　but　they　saw　none。　Strider　made　them　take　cover　in　a　thicket　at　the　side　of　the　Road；　while　he　went　forward　to　explore。

Before　long　he　came　hurrying　back。　'I　can　see　no　sign　of　the　enemy；'　he　said；　'and　I　wonder　very　much　what　that　means。　But　I　have　found　something　very　strange。'

He　held　out　his　hand；　and　showed　a　single　palegreen　jewel。　'I　found　it　in　the　mud　in　the　middle　of　the　Bridge；'　he　said。　'It　is　a　beryl；　an　elf　stone。　Whether　it　was　set　there；　or　let　fall　by　chance；　I　cannot　say；　but　it　brings　hope　to　me。　I　will　take　it　as　a　sign　that　we　may　pass　the　Bridge；　but　beyond　that　I　dare　not　keep　to　the　Road；　without　some　clearer　token。'

At　once　they　went　on　again。　They　crossed　the　Bridge　in　safety；　hearing　no　sound　but　the　water　swirling　against　its　three　great　arches。　A　mile　further　on　they　came　to　a　narrow　ravine　that　led　away　northwards　through　the　steep　lands　on　the　left　of　the　Road。　Here　Strider　turned　aside；　and　soon　they　were　lost　in　a　sombre　country　of　dark　trees　winding　among　the　feet　of　sullen　hills。

The　hobbits　were　glad　to　leave　the　cheerless　lands　and　the　perilous　Road　behind　them；　but　this　new　country　seemed　threatening　and　unfriendly。　As　they　went　forward　the　hills　about　them　steadily　rose。　Here　and　there　upon　heights　and　ridges　they　caught　glimpses　of　ancient　walls　of　stone；　and　the　ruins　of　towers：　they　had　an　ominous　look。　Frodo；　who　was　not　walking；　had　time　to　gaze　ahead　and　to　think。　He　recalled　Bilbo's　account　of　his　journey　and　the　threatening　towers　on　the　hills　north　of　the　Road；　in　the　country　near　the　Troll's　wood　where　his　first　serious　adventure　had　happened。　Frodo　guessed　that　they　were　now　in　the　same　region；　and　wondered　if　by　chance　they　would　pass　near　the　spot。

'Who　lives　in　this　land？'　he　asked。　'And　who　built　these　towers？　Is　this　trollcountry？'

'No！'　said　Strider。　'Trolls　do　not　build。　No　one　lives　in　this　land。　Men　once　dwelt　here；　ages　ago；　but　none　remain　now。　They　became　an　evil　people；　as　legends　tell；　for　they　fell　under　the　shadow　of　Angmar。　But　all　were　destroyed　in　the　war　that　brought　the　North　Kingdom　to　its　end。　But　that　is　now　so　long　ago　that　the　hills　have　fotten　them；　though　a　shadow　still　lies　on　the　land。'

'Where　did　you　learn　such　tales；　if　all　the　land　is　empty　and　fetful？'　asked　Peregrin。　'The　birds　and　beasts　do　not　tell　tales　of　that　son。'

'The　heirs　of　Elendil　do　not　fet　all　things　past；'　said　Strider；　'and　many　more　things　than　I　can　tell　are　remembered　in　Rivendell。'　'Have　you　often　been　to　Rivendell？'　said　Frodo。　'I　have；'　said　Strider。　'I　dwelt　there　once；　and　still　I　return　when　I　may。

There　my　heart　is；　but　it　is　not　my　fate　to　sit　in　peace；　even　in　the　fair　house　of　Elrond。'

The　hills　now　began　to　shut　them　in。　The　Road　behind　held　on　its　way　to　the　River　Bruinen；　but　both　were　now　hidden　from　view。　The　travellers　came　into　a　long　valley；　narrow；　deeply　cloven；　dark　and　silent。　Trees　with　old　and　twisted　roots　hung　over　cliffs；　and　piled　up　behind　into　mounting　slopes　of　pinewood。

The　hobbits　grew　very　weary。　They　advanced　slowly；　for　they　had　to　pick　their　way　through　a　pathless　country；　encumbered　by　fallen　trees　and　tumbled　rocks。　As　long　as　they　could　they　avoided　climbing　for　Frodo's　sake；　and　because　it　was　in　fact　difficult　to　find　any　way　up　out　of　the　narrow　dales。　They　had　been　two　days　in　this　country　when　the　weather　turned　wet。　The　wind　began　to　blow　steadily　out　of　the　West　and　pour　the　water　of　the　distant　seas　on　the　dark　heads　of　the　hills　in　fine　drenching　rain。　By　nightfall　they　were　all　soaked；　and　their　camp　was　cheerless；　for　they　could　not　get　any　fire　to　burn。　The　next　day　the　hills　rose　still　higher　and　steeper　before　them；　and　they　were　forced　to　turn　away　northwards　out　of　their　course。　Strider　seemed　to　be　getting　anxious：　they　were　nearly　ten　days　out　from　Weathertop；　and　their　stock　of　provisions　was　beginning　to　run　low。　It　went　on　raining。

That　night　they　camped　on　a　stony　shelf　with　a　rockwall　behind　them；　in　which　there　was　a　shallow　cave；　a　mere　scoop　in　the　cliff。　Frodo　was　restless。　The　cold　and　wet　had　made　his　wound　more　painful　than　ever；　and　the　ache　an