towers

shelob’s lair 945
Sam laughed grimly. ‘Cobwebs!’ he said. ‘Is that all?
Cobwebs! But what a spider! Have at ’em, down with ’em!’
In a fury he hewed at them with his sword, but the thread
that he struck did not break. It gave a little and then sprang
back like a plucked bowstring, turning the blade and tossing
up both sword and arm. Three times Sam struck with all his
force, and at last one single cord of all the countless cords
snapped and twisted, curling and whipping through the air.
One end of it lashed Sam’s hand, and he cried out in pain,
starting back and drawing his hand across his mouth.
‘It will take days to clear the road like this,’ he said. ‘What’s
to be done? Have those eyes come back?’
‘No, not to be seen,’ said Frodo. ‘But I still feel that they
are looking at me, or thinking about me: making some other
plan, perhaps. If this light were lowered, or if it failed, they
would quickly come again.’
‘Trapped in the end!’ said Sam bitterly, his anger rising
again above weariness and despair. ‘Gnats in a net. May the
curse of Faramir bite that Gollum and bite him quick!’
‘That would not help us now,’ said Frodo. ‘Come! Let us
see what Sting can do. It is an elven-blade. There were webs
of horror in the dark ravines of Beleriand where it was forged.
But you must be the guard and hold back the eyes. Here,
take the star-glass. Do not be afraid. Hold it up and watch!’
Then Frodo stepped up to the great grey net, and hewed
it with a wide sweeping stroke, drawing the bitter edge swiftly
across a ladder of close-strung cords, and at once springing
away. The blue-gleaming blade shore through them like a
scythe through grass, and they leaped and writhed and then
hung loose. A great rent was made.
Stroke after stroke he dealt, until at last all the web within
his reach was shattered, and the upper portion blew and
swayed like a loose veil in the incoming wind. The trap was
broken.
‘Come!’ cried Frodo. ‘On! On!’ Wild joy at their escape
from the very mouth of despair suddenly filled all his mind.