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CHAPTERSEVENTHEHILLETRENCHES
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THEREIswasabeastofaday.Overheadwasasunlesssky，muffledincloudsthatwereheavywiths，ablackfrost;blowi，awiasifitwouldtakeyourskiheygotdowheyfoundthatthispartofthearoadwasmuchmoreruinousthaseeopicktheirwayreatbrokeweenbouldersandacrossrubble:hardgoingforsorefeet.Aheygot，itwasfartoocoldforahalt.
Ataboutteno'clockthefirsttinysnowflakescameldowledonJill'sarTeheywerefallihitwehegroundwase.Andbytheendofhalfanhoodsteadysnowstorm，whichlookedasifitmeanttolastallday，wasdrivingintheirfacessothattheycouldhardlysee.
Iouandwhatfollowed，youmustkeeponrememberinghowlittletheycouldsee.Astheydrewhelowhillwhichseparatedthemfromtheplacewherethelightedeared，theyhadnogeatall.Itwasaquestiohefewpacesahead，ahat，youhadtoscrewupyoureyes.osay，theywerenottalking.
&heyreachedthefootofthehilltheycaughtaglimpseofwhatmightberoeachside—squarishrocks，ifyoulookedatthemcarefully，butnoonedid.Allweremoreedwiththeledgerightinfrontofthemwhichbarredtheirway.Itwasabh.TheMarsh-wiggle，withhislonglegs，hadnodiffijumpingoopofit，ahehersup.Itwasabusihem，thoughnotforhim，becausethesnownowlayquitedeepoheythenhadastiffclimb—Jillfellonce—upveryroughgroundforaboutahundredyards，aoasedledge.Therewerefouroftheseledgesaltogether，atquiteirregularintervals.
Astheystruggledohledge，therewasnomistakihattheyoftheflathill.Uptillnowtheslopehadgiventhemsomeshelter;here，theygotthefullfuryofthewind.Forthehill，oddlyenough，wasquiteasflatontopasithadlookedfromadistaleveltablelandwhitoreacrosswithoutresistaplaowwasstillhardlylyingatall，forthewigitupoffthegrousanddhurlingitintheirfadroulittleeddiesofsnowranaboutasyousometimesseethemdoingoverid，indeed，inmahesurfacewasalmostassmoothasiattersworseitwasdcrisscrossedwithcuriousbanksordykes，whiesdivideditupintosquaresandoblongs.Alltheseofcoursehadtobeclimbed;theyvariedfromtwotofivefeetiaacoupleofyardsthithenorthsideofeakthesnowalreadylayis;andaftereachedownintotwet.
Fightingherithhoodupandheaddownandnumbhandsinsidehercloak，Jillhadglimpsesofotheroddthingsonthathorribletableland—thihatlookedvaguelylikefaneys，a，ahugecliff，straighterthananycliffoughttobe.Butshewasn'tatalliedanddidn'tgivethemathought.Theonlythiaboutwereherds（andnoseanddears）andhotbathsaHarfang.
Suddenlysheskidded，slidaboutfivefeet，andfouoherhdownintoadark，narrowchasmwhichseemedthatmomenttohaveappearedinfrontofher.HalfasedlatershehadreachedthebottoSheappearedtobeinakindroove，onlyaboutthreefeetwide.Andthoughshewasshakenbythefall，almostthefirstthiicedwasthereliefofbeingoutofthewind;forthewallsofthetrenchrosehighaboveher.Thehiiaturally，theanxiousfacesofSdPuddleglumlookingdowheedge.
&，Pole?”
shoutedScrubb.
“Bothlegsbroken，Ishouldn'twonder，”
shoutedPuddleglu
Jillstoodupandexplaishewasallright，butthey'dhavetohelpherout.
“Whatisityou'vefalleninto?”
askedScrubb.
“It'sakindoftrenightbeakindofsuhing，”
saidJill.“Itru.”
“Yes，byJove，”
saidSditruh!Iwoasortofroad?Ifitwas，we'dbeoutofthisinfernalwinddowherealotofsom?”
“Hardlyany.Itallblowsoverthetop，Isuppose.”
“ensfartheron?”
“Halfasec.I'llgoandsee，”
saidJill.Shegotupahetrench;butbeforeshehadgoturnedsharplytht.Sheshoutedthisinformationbacktotheothers.
“What'sroundtheer?”
askedScrubb.
NoeJillhadthesamefeelingabouttwistypassagesanddarkpladerground，orevennearlyuhatScrubbhadabouttheedgesofcliffs.Shehadionofgoingroundthateralone;especiallywhensheheardPuddleglumbawlingoutfrombehindher:
“Becareful，Pole.It'sjustthesortofplacethatmightleadton'sdinagianttry，theremightbegiah-wiales.”
“Idon'tthinkitgoesanywheremuch，”
saidJill，inghastilyback.
“I'mjollywellgoingtohavealook，”
saidScrubb.“Whatdoyoumeanbyanywheremuch，Ishouldliketoknow?”
Sohesatdowhetrench（everyooowetbynowtobotheraboutbeingabitwetter）andthendroppedin.HepushedpastJilland，thoughhedidn'tsayanythihatheknewshehadfu.Soshefollowedhimclose，buttookottogetinfrontofhi
Itproved，hooiiorht-handturnandstraightonforafewpaces.Heretherewasachoiceofways:straightonagain，orsharptht.“That'snogood，”
saidScrubb，glantheright-handturn，“thatwouldbetakingusback—south.”
Hewentstraighton，butoncemore，ieps，theyfouur.Butthistimetherewasnochoiceofways，forthetrenchtheyhadbeenfollowioadeadend.
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