| ’Twas a Gnome he beheld on the heaped needles | 800 |
| of a pine-tree pillowed, when peering wary | |
| he crept closer. The covering pelt | |
| was loosed from the lamp of living radiance | |
| by his side shining. Slumber-shrouded | |
| his fear-worn face was fallen in shade. | 805 |
| Lest in webs woven of unwaking sleep, | |
| spun round by spells in those spaces dark, | |
| he lie forlorn and lost for ever, | |
| the Hunter hailed him in the hushed forest – | |
| to the drowsy deeps of his dream profound | 810 |
| fear ever-following came falling loud; | |
| as the lancing lightning he leapt to his feet | |
| full deeming that dread and death were upon him, | |
| Flinding go-Fuilin fleeing in anguish | |
| from the mines of Morgoth. Marvelling he heard | 815 |
| the ancient tongue of the Elves of Tûn; | |
| and Beleg the Bowman embraced him there, | |
| and learnt his lineage and luckless fate, | |
| how thrust to thraldom in a throng of captives, | |
| from the kindred carried and the cavernous halls | 820 |
| of the Gnomes renowned of Nargothrond, | |
| long years he laboured under lashes and flails | |
| of the baleful Balrogs, abiding his time. | |
| A tale he unfolded of terrible flight | |
| o’er flaming fell and fuming hollow, | 825 |
| o’er the parchéd dunes of the Plains of Drouth, | |
| till his heart took hope and his heed was less. | |
| ‘Then Taur-na-Fuin entangled my feet | |
| in its mazes enmeshed; and madness took me | |
| that I wandered witless, unwary stumbling | 830 |
| and beating the boles of the brooding pines | |
| in idle anger – and the Orcs heard me. | |
| They were camped in a clearing, that close at hand | |
| by mercy I missed. Their marching road | |
| is beaten broad through the black shadows | 835 |
| by wizardry warded from wandering Elves; | |
| but dread they know of the Deadly Nightshade, | |
| and in haste only do they hie that way. | |
| Now cruel cries and clamorous voices | |
| awoke in the wood, and winged arrows | 840 |
| from horny bows hummed about me; | |
| and following feet, fleet and stealthy, | |
| were padding and pattering on the pine-needles; | |
| and hairy hands and hungry fingers | |
| in the glooms groping, as I grovelled fainting | 845 |
| till they cowering found me. Fast they clutched me | |
| beaten and bleeding, and broken in spirit | |
| they laughing led me, my lagging footsteps | |
| with their spears speeding. Their spoils were piled, | |
| and countless captives in that camp were chained, | 850 |
| and Elfin maids their anguish mourning. | |
| But one they watched, warded sleepless, | |
| was stern-visaged, strong, and in stature tall | |
| as are Hithlum’s men of the misty hills. | |
| Full length he lay and lashed to pickets | 855 |
| in baleful bonds, yet bold-hearted | |
| his mouth no mercy of Morgoth sued, | |
| but defied his foes. Foully they smote him. | |
| Then he called, as clear as cry of hunter | |
| that hails his hounds in hollow places, | 860 |
| on the name renowned of that noblest king – | |
| but men unmindful remember him little – | |
| Húrin Thalion, who Erithámrod hight, | |
| the Unbending, for Orc and Balrog | |
| and Morgoth’s might on the mountain yet | 865 |
| he defies fearless, on a fangéd peak | |
| of thunder-riven Thangorodrim.’ | |
| ‘Thou wilt join his journey to the jaws of sorrow, | |
| O bowman crazéd, if thy bellowing cry | |
| to the Orcs should come; their ears than cats’ | 875 |
| are keener whetted, and though the camp from here | |
| be a day distant where those deeds I saw, | |
| who knows if the Gnome they now pursue | |
| that crept from their clutches, as a crawling worm | |
| on belly cowering, whom they bleeding cast | 880 |
| in deathly swoon on the dung and slough | |
| of their loathsome lair. O Light of Valinor! | |
| and ye glorious Gods! How gleam their eyes, | |
| and their tongues are red!’ ‘Yet I Túrin will wrest | |
| from their hungry hands, or to Hell be dragged, | 885 |
| or sleep with the slain in the slades of Death. | |
| Thy lamp shall lead us, and my lore rekindle | |
| and wise wood-craft!’ ‘O witless hunter, | |
| thy words are wild – wolves unsleeping | |
| and wizardry ward their woeful captives; | 890 |
| unerring their arrows; the icy steel | |
| of their curvéd blades cleaves unblunted | |
| the meshes of mail; the mirk to pierce | |
| those eyes are able; their awful laughter | |
| the flesh freezes! I fare not thither, | 895 |
| for fear fetters me in the Forest of Night: | |
| better die in the dark dazed, forwandered, | |
| than wilfully woo that woe and anguish! | |
| I know not the way.’ ‘Are the knees then weak | |
| of Flinding go-Fuilin? Shall free-born Gnome | 900 |
| thus show himself a shrinking slave, | |
| who twice entrapped has twice escaped? | |
| Remember the might and the mirth of yore, | |
| the renown of the Gnomes of Nargothrond!’ | |
| ‘No noise I hear’, the Gnome answered, | |
| ‘thy hope cheats thee.’ ‘I hear the chains | |
| clinking, creaking, the cords straining, | 920 |
| and wolves padding on worn pathways. | |
| I smell the blood that is smeared on blades | |
| that are cruel and crooked; the croaking laughter – | |
| now, listen! louder and louder comes,’ | |
| the hunter said. ‘I hear no sound’, | 925 |
| quoth Flinding fearful. ‘Then follow after!’ | |
| with bended bow then Beleg answered, | |
| ‘my cunning rekindles, my craft needs not | |
| thy lamp’s leading.’ Leaping swiftly | |
| he shrank in the shadows; with shrouded lantern | 930 |
| Flinding followed him, and the forest-darkness | |
| and drowsy dimness drifted slowly | |
| unfolding from them in fleeing shadows, | |
| and its magic was minished, till they marvelling saw | |
| they were brought to its borders. There black-gaping | 935 |
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