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many more Men were about. He could see them stealing up
the slopes, singly or in long files, keeping always to the shade
of grove or thicket, or crawling, hardly visible in their brown
and green raiment, through grass and brake. All were hooded
and masked, and had gauntlets on their hands, and were
armed like Faramir and his companions. Before long they
had all passed and vanished. The sun rose till it neared the
South. The shadows shrank.
‘I wonder where that dratted Gollum is?’ thought Sam, as
he crawled back into deeper shade. ‘He stands a fair chance
of being spitted for an Orc, or of being roasted by the Yellow
Face. But I fancy he’ll look after himself.’ He lay down beside
Frodo and began to doze.
He woke, thinking that he had heard horns blowing. He
sat up. It was now high noon. The guards stood alert and
tense in the shadow of the trees. Suddenly the horns rang out
louder and beyond mistake from above, over the top of the
slope. Sam thought that he heard cries and wild shouting
also, but the sound was faint, as if it came out of some distant
cave. Then presently the noise of fighting broke out near at
hand, just above their hiding-place. He could hear plainly the
ringing grate of steel on steel, the clang of sword on iron
cap, the dull beat of blade on shield; men were yelling and
screaming, and one clear loud voice was calling Gondor!
Gondor!
‘It sounds like a hundred blacksmiths all smithying
together,’ said Sam to Frodo. ‘They’re as near as I want them
now.’
But the noise grew closer. ‘They are coming!’ cried Damrod.
‘See! Some of the Southrons have broken from the trap
and are flying from the road. There they go! Our men after
them, and the Captain leading.’
Sam, eager to see more, went now and joined the guards.
He scrambled a little way up into one of the larger of the
bay-trees. For a moment he caught a glimpse of swarthy men
in red running down the slope some way off with green-clad