towers

Chapter 5
THE WHITE RIDER
‘My very bones are chilled,’ said Gimli, flapping his arms
and stamping his feet. Day had come at last. At dawn the
companions had made such breakfast as they could; now in
the growing light they were getting ready to search the ground
again for signs of the hobbits.
‘And do not forget that old man!’ said Gimli. ‘I should be
happier if I could see the print of a boot.’
‘Why would that make you happy?’ said Legolas.
‘Because an old man with feet that leave marks might be
no more than he seemed,’ answered the Dwarf.
‘Maybe,’ said the Elf; ‘but a heavy boot might leave no
print here: the grass is deep and springy.’
‘That would not baffle a Ranger,’ said Gimli. ‘A bent blade
is enough for Aragorn to read. But I do not expect him to
find any traces. It was an evil phantom of Saruman that we
saw last night. I am sure of it, even under the light of morning.
His eyes are looking out on us from Fangorn even now,
maybe.’
‘It is likely enough,’ said Aragorn; ‘yet I am not sure. I am
thinking of the horses. You said last night, Gimli, that they
were scared away. But I did not think so. Did you hear them,
Legolas? Did they sound to you like beasts in terror?’
‘No,’ said Legolas. ‘I heard them clearly. But for the darkness
and our own fear I should have guessed that they were
beasts wild with some sudden gladness. They spoke as horses
will when they meet a friend that they have long missed.’
‘So I thought,’ said Aragorn; ‘but I cannot read the riddle,
unless they return. Come! The light is growing fast. Let us
look first and guess later! We should begin here, near to
our own camping-ground, searching carefully all about, and