The Fellowship of the Ring. Джон Роналд Руэл Толкин

and had a light meal, talking quietly and listening from time to time.

      Twilight was about them as they crept back to the lane. The West wind was sighing in the branches. Leaves were whispering. Soon the road began to fall gently but steadily into the dusk. A star came out above the trees in the darkening East before them. They went abreast and in step, to keep up their spirits. After a time, as the stars grew thicker and brighter, the feeling of disquiet left them, and they no longer listened for the sound of hoofs. They began to hum softly, as hobbits have a way of doing as they walk along, especially when they are drawing near to home at night. With most hobbits it is a supper-song or a bed-song; but these hobbits hummed a walking-song (though not, of course, without any mention of supper and bed). Bilbo Baggins had made the words, to a tune that was as old as the hills, and taught it to Frodo as they walked in the lanes of the Water-valley and talked about Adventure.

       Upon the hearth the fire is red,

       Beneath the roof there is a bed;

       But not yet weary are our feet,

       Still round the corner we may meet

       A sudden tree or standing stone

       That none have seen but we alone.

       Tree and flower and leaf and grass,

       Let them pass! Let them pass!

       Hill and water under sky,

       Pass them by! Pass them by!

       Still round the corner there may wait

       A new road or a secret gate,

       And though we pass them by today,

       Tomorrow we may come this way

       And take the hidden paths that run

       Towards the Moon or to the Sun.

       Apple, thorn, and nut and sloe,

       Let them go! Let them go!

       Sand and stone and pool and dell,

       Fare you well! Fare you well!

       Home is behind, the world ahead,

       And there are many paths to tread

       Through shadows to the edge of night,

       Until the stars are all alight.

       Then world behind and home ahead,

       We’ll wander back to home and bed.

       Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,

       Away shall fade! Away shall fade!

       Fire and lamp, and meat and bread,

       And then to bed! And then to bed!

      The song ended. ‘And now to bed! And now to bed!’ sang Pippin in a high voice.

      ‘Hush!’ said Frodo. ‘I think I hear hoofs again.’

      They stopped suddenly and stood as silent as tree-shadows, listening. There was a sound of hoofs in the lane, some way behind, but coming slow and clear down the wind. Quickly and quietly they slipped off the path, and ran into the deeper shade under the oak-trees.

      ‘Don’t let us go too far!’ said Frodo. ‘I don’t want to be seen, but I want to see if it is another Black Rider.’

      ‘Very well!’ said Pippin. ‘But don’t forget the sniffing!’

      The hoofs drew nearer. They had no time to find any hiding-place better than the general darkness under the trees; Sam and Pippin crouched behind a large tree-bole, while Frodo crept back a few yards towards the lane. It showed grey and pale, a line of fading light through the wood. Above it the stars were thick in the dim sky, but there was no moon.

      The sound of hoofs stopped. As Frodo watched he saw something dark pass across the lighter space between two trees, and then halt. It looked like the black shade of a horse led by a smaller black shadow. The black shadow stood close to the point where they had left the path, and it swayed from side to side. Frodo thought he heard the sound of snuffling. The shadow bent to the ground, and then began to crawl towards him.

      Once more the desire to slip on the Ring came over Frodo; but this time it was stronger than before. So strong that, almost before he realized what he was doing, his hand was groping in his pocket. But at that moment there came a sound like mingled song and laughter. Clear voices rose and fell in the starlit air. The black shadow straightened up and retreated. It climbed on to the shadowy horse and seemed to vanish across the lane into the darkness on the other side. Frodo breathed again.

      ‘Elves!’ exclaimed Sam in a hoarse whisper. ‘Elves, sir!’ He would have burst out of the trees and dashed off towards the voices, if they had not pulled him back.

      ‘Yes, it is Elves,’ said Frodo. ‘One can meet them sometimes in the Woody End. They don’t live in the Shire, but they wander into it in spring and autumn, out of their own lands away beyond the Tower Hills. I am thankful that they do! You did not see, but that Black Rider stopped just here and was actually crawling towards us when the song began. As soon as he heard the voices he slipped away.’

      ‘What about the Elves?’ said Sam, too excited to trouble about the rider. ‘Can’t we go and see them?’

      ‘Listen! They are coming this way,’ said Frodo. ‘We have only to wait.’

      The singing drew nearer. One clear voice rose now above the others. It was singing in the fair elven-tongue, of which Frodo knew only a little, and the others knew nothing. Yet the sound blending with the melody seemed to shape itself in their thought into words which they only partly understood. This was the song as Frodo heard it:

       Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear!

       O Queen beyond the Western Seas

       O Light to us that wander here

       Amid the world of woven trees!

       Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!

       Clear are thy eyes and bright thy breath!

       Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee

       In a far land beyond the Sea.

       O stars that in the Sunless Year

       With shining hand by her were sown,

       In windy fields now bright and clear

       We see your silver blossom blown!

       O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!

       We still remember, we who dwell

       In this far land beneath the trees,

       Thy starlight on the Western Seas.

      The song ended. ‘These are High Elves! They spoke the name of Elbereth!’ said Frodo in amazement. ‘Few of that fairest folk are ever seen in the Shire. Not many now remain in Middle-earth, east of the Great Sea. This is indeed a strange chance!’

      The hobbits sat in shadow by the wayside. Before long the Elves came down the lane towards the valley. They passed slowly, and the hobbits could see the starlight glimmering on their hair and in their eyes. They bore no lights, yet as they walked a shimmer, like the light of the moon above the rim of the hills before it rises, seemed to fall about their feet. They were