I felt suddenly as though everything I loved had gone from me,
irretrievably gone and lost. I looked round me, and I could discern
through a mist the bases of some black and sinister rocks, that towered
up intolerably above me; in between them were channels full of stones
and drifted snow. Anything more stupendous than those black-ribbed
crags, those toppling precipices, I had never seen. The wind howled
among them, and sometimes there was a noise of rocks cast down. I knew
in some obscure way that my path lay there, and my heart absolutely
failed me. Instead of going straight to the rocks, I began to creep
along the base to see whether I could find some easier track. Suddenly
the voice of Amroth said, rather sharply, in my ear, "Don't be silly!"
This homely direction, so peremptorily made, had an instantaneous
effect. If he had said, "Be not faithless," or anything in the copybook
manner, I should have sat down and resigned myself to solemn despair.
But now I felt a fool and a coward as well.
So I addressed myself, like a dog who hears the crack of a whip, to the
rocks.
It would be tedious to relate how I clambered and stumbled and agonised.
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