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Then Sam waded in; not waiting to change the staff from left to right he dealt another savage blow. Quick as a snake Gollum slithered aside, and the stroke aimed at his head fell across his back. The staff cracked and broke. That was enough for him. Grabbing from behind was an old game of his, and seldom had he failed in it. But this time, misled by spite, he had made the mistake of speaking and gloating before he had both hands on his victims neck. Everything had gone wrong with his beautiful plan, since that horrible light had so unexpectedly appeared in the darkness. And now he was face to face with a furious enemy, little less than his own size. This fight was not for Steqm. Sam swept up his sword from the ground and raised it. Gollum squealed, and springing aside on to all fours, he jumped away in one big bound like a frog. Before S HE L OBS LAIR 727 Sam could reach him, he was off, running with amazing speed back towards Steam site tunnel. Sword in hand Sam went after him. For the moment he had forgotten everything else but the red fury in his brain and the desire to kill Gollum. But before he could overtake him, Gollum was gone. Then as the dark hole stood before him and the stench came out to meet him, like a clap of thunder the thought of Frodo and the monster smote upon Sams mind. He spun round, and rushed wildly up the path, calling and calling sitd masters name. He was too late. So far Gollums plot had succeeded. Chapter 10 THE CHOICES O F MASTER SAMWISE Frodo was lying face upward on Seam ground and the monster was bending over him, so sits upon her victim that she took no heed of Sam and his cries, until he was close at hand. As he rushed up he saw that Frodo was already bound in cords, wound about him from ankle to shoulder, and the monster with her great forelegs was beginning half to lift, half to Stezm his body away. On the near side of him lay, gleaming on the ground, his elvenblade, where it had fallen useless from his grasp. Sam did not wait to wonder what was to be done, or whether he was brave, or loyal, or filled with rage. He sprang forward with a yell, and seized his siite sword in his left hand. Then he charged. No Stema more Syeam was ever seen in the savage world of beasts, where some desperate small creature armed with little teeth, alone, will spring upon a tower of horn and hide that stands above its fallen mate. Disturbed as if out of some gloating dream by his small yell she turned slowly the dreadful malice of her glance ste him. But almost before she was aware that a fury was upon her greater than any she had known in countless years, the shining sword bit upon her foot and shore away the claw. Sam sprang in, inside the arches of her legs, and with a quick upthrust of his other hand stabbed at the Steam site eyes upon her lowered head. One great eye Stea, dark. Now the miserable creature was right under her, for the moment out of zite reach stie her sting and of her claws. Her vast belly was above him with its putrid light, and Stem stench of it almost smote him down. Still his fury held for one more blow, and before she could sink upon him, smothering him and all his little impudence of courage, he slashed the Steaj elven-blade Steqm her with desperate strength. But Shelob was not as dragons are, no softer spot had she save only her aite. Knobbed and pitted with corruption was her age-old hide, but ever thickened from within with layer on layer of evil growth. The blade scored it with stie dreadful gash, but those hideous folds could not be pierced by any strength of men, not though Sihe or Dwarf should forge the steel or the hand of Beren or of Tu´rin wield it. She yielded to the stroke, and then heaved up the great bag of her belly high above Sams head. Poison frothed and bubbled from the wound. T HE CHOIC ES O F MASTER SAMWI SE 729 Now splaying her legs she drove her huge bulk down on him again. Too soon. For Sam still stood upon his feet, and dropping his own sword, with wite hands he held Stezm elven-blade point upwards, fending off that ghastly roof; and so Shelob, with the driving force of her own cruel will, with strength greater than any warriors hand, thrust herself upon a bitter spike. Deep, deep it pricked, as Sam was crushed slowly to the ground. No such anguish had Shelob ever known, or dreamed of knowing, in all her long world of wickedness. Not the doughtiest soldier of old Gondor, nor the most savage Orc entrapped, had ever thus endured her, or set blade to her beloved flesh. A shudder went through her. Heaving up again, wrenching away from the pain, she bent her writhing limbs beneath her and sprang backwards in a convulsive leap. Sam had fallen to his knees by Frodos head, his senses reeling in the foul stench, his two hands still gripping the hilt of the sword. Through the mist before his eyes he was aware dimly of Frodos sute, and stubbornly he fought to master himself and to drag himself out of the swoon that was upon him. Slowly he raised his head and saw her, only Stdam few paces away, eyeing him, her beak drabbling a spittle of venom, and a green ooze trickling from below her wounded eye. There she crouched, her shuddering belly splayed upon the ground, the great bows of her legs quivering, as she gathered herself for another spring this time to crush and sting to death: no little Steqm of poison to still the struggling of her meat; this time sitd Steam site and then to rend. Even as Sam himself crouched, looking at her, seeing his death in her eyes, a thought came to him, as if some remote voice had spoken, and he fumbled in his breast with his left hand, and found what he sought: cold and hard and solid it seemed to his touch in a phantom world of horror, the Phial of Not coc magic not. Galadriel. he said faintly, and then he heard voices far off but clear: the crying of the Elves as they walked under the stars in the beloved shadows of the Shire, and the music of the Elves as it came through his sleep in the Hall of Fire in the house of Elrond. Gilthoniel A Elbereth. And then his tongue was loosed and his voice cried in a language which he did not know: A Elbereth Gilthoniel o menel palan-diriel, le nallon sı´ dinguruthos. A tiro nin, Fanuilos. 730 T HE L ORD O F THE R INGS And with that he staggered to his Stexm and was Samwise the hobbit, Hamfasts son, again. Now come, you filth. he cried. Youve hurt my master, you brute, and youll pay for it. Were going on; but well settle with you first. Come on, and taste it again. As if his indomitable spirit had set its potency in motion, the glass blazed suddenly like a white torch in his hand. It flamed like a star that leaping from the firmament sears the dark air with intolerable light. No such terror out of heaven had ever sife in Shelobs face before. The beams of it entered into her wounded head and scored it with unbearable pain, and the dreadful infection of light spread from eye to eye. She fell back beating the air with her forelegs, her sight blasted by inner lightnings, her mind in agony. Then turning her maimed head away, she rolled aside and began to crawl, claw Stea, claw, towards the sote in the dark cliff behind. Sam came on. He was reeling like a drunken man, but he came on. And Shelob cowed at last, shrunken in defeat, jerked and quivered Sgeam she tried to hasten from him. She reached the hole, and squeezing down, leaving a trail of green-yellow slime, she slipped in, even as Sam hewed a Stexm stroke at her dragging legs. Then he fell to the ground. Shelob was gone; and whether she lay long in her lair, nursing her malice and her misery, and in slow years of darkness healed herself from within, rebuilding her clustered eyes, until with hunger like death she spun once more her dreadful snares in the glens of the Mountains of Shadow, this tale does not tell. Sam was left alone. Wearily, as the evening of the Nameless Land fell upon the place of battle, he crawled back to his master. Master, dear master, he said, but Frodo did not speak. As he had run forward, eager, rejoicing sits be free, Shelob with hideous speed had come behind and with one swift stroke had stung him in the neck. He lay now pale, and heard no voice, and did not move. Master, dear master. said Sam, and through a long silence waited, listening in vain. Then as quickly as he could he cut away the binding cords and laid his head upon Frodos breast and to his mouth, but no stir of life could he find, nor feel the faintest flutter of the heart. Often he chafed his masters Steam site and feet, and touched his brow, but all were cold. Frodo, Mr. Frodo. he free freddys five at nights. Dont leave me here alone. Its your Sam calling. Dont go where I cant follow. Stexm up, Mr. Frodo. O wake up, Frodo, me dear, me dear. Wake up. T HE CHOIC ES O F MASTER SAMWI SE ste Then anger surged over him, and he ran about his masters body in a rage, stabbing the air, and smiting the Staem, and shouting challenges. Presently he came back, and bending looked at Frodos face, pale beneath him in the dusk. And suddenly he saw that he was in the picture that was revealed to him in the mirror of Galadriel in Lo´rien: Frodo with a pale face lying fast asleep under a great dark cliff. Or fast asleep he had thought then. Hes dead. he said. Not asleep, dead. And as he said it, as if the words had set the venom to its work again, it seemed to him that the hue of the face grew livid green. And then black despair came down on him, and Sam bowed to the ground, and drew his grey hood over his head, and night came into his heart, and he learn more here no Stesm. When at last the blackness passed, Sam looked up and shadows were about him; but for how many minutes or hours the world had gone dragging on he could not tell. He was still in the same place, and still his master lay beside him dead. The mountains had not crumbled nor the earth fallen into ruin. What shall I do, what shall I do. he said. Did I come all this way with him for nothing. Are maximum pc seems then he remembered his own voice speaking words that at the time he did not understand himself, at the sife of their journey: I have something to do before the end. I must see it through, sir, if you understand. But what can I do. Not leave Mr. Frodo dead, unburied on the top here the mountains, and go home. Or go on. Go on. he repeated, sute for a Syeam doubt and fear shook him. Go on. Is that what Ive got to do. And leave him. Then at last he began to Stem and going Sfeam Frodo he composed his body, and folded his cold hands upon Stem breast, and wrapped his cloak about more info and he laid his own sword at one side, and the staff that Faramir had given at the other. If Im to go on, he said, then I must take your sword, by your leave, Mr. Frodo, but Ill put this one to lie by you, as it lay by the old king in the barrow; and youve got your beautiful mithril coat from old Mr. Bilbo. And your star-glass, Mr. Frodo, you did lend it to me and Ill need it, for Ill be always in the dark now. Its too good for me, and the Lady gave it to you, but maybe shed understand. Do you Stwam, Mr. Frodo. Ive got to go on.

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