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the land of shadow 1219
the plain now and drawing near the entrance to Udûn. Some
way in front of it, before the gate at the bridge-end, the road
from the west converged with others coming from the south,
and from Barad-dûr. Along all the roads troops were moving;
for the Captains of the West were advancing and the Dark
Lord was speeding his forces north. So it chanced that several
companies came together at the road-meeting, in the dark
beyond the light of the watch-fires on the wall. At once there
was great jostling and cursing as each troop tried to get first
to the gate and the ending of their march. Though the drivers
yelled and plied their whips, scuffles broke out and some
blades were drawn. A troop of heavy-armed uruks from
Barad-dûr charged into the Durthang line and threw them
into confusion.
Dazed as he was with pain and weariness, Sam woke up,
grasped quickly at his chance, and threw himself to the
ground, dragging Frodo down with him. Orcs fell over them,
snarling and cursing. Slowly on hand and knee the hobbits
crawled away out of the turmoil, until at last unnoticed they
dropped over the further edge of the road. It had a high kerb
by which troop-leaders could guide themselves in black night
or fog, and it was banked up some feet above the level of the
open land.
They lay still for a while. It was too dark to seek for cover,
if indeed there was any to find; but Sam felt that they ought
at least to get further away from the highways and out of the
range of torchlight.
‘Come on, Mr. Frodo!’ he whispered. ‘One more crawl,
and then you can lie still.’
With a last despairing effort Frodo raised himself on his
hands, and struggled on for maybe twenty yards. Then he
pitched down into a shallow pit that opened unexpectedly
before them, and there he lay like a dead thing.