THE HOBBITOR

THERE ANDBACK AGAIN

BYJ.R.R. TOLKIEN

The Hobbit is a tale of high adventure,undertaken by a company of dwarves, insearch of dragon-guarded gold. Areluctant partner in this perilous quest isBilbo Baggins, a comfort-loving,unambitious hobbit, who surprises evenhimself by his resourcefulness and hisskill as a burglar.

Encounters with trolls, goblins,dwarves, elves and giant spiders,conversations with the dragon, Smaug theMagnificent, and a rather unwillingpresence at the Battle of the Five Armiesare some of the adventures that befallBilbo. But there are lighter moments aswell: good fellowship, welcome meals,laughter and song.

Bilbo Baggins has taken his placeamong the ranks of the immortals of

children’s fiction. Written for ProfessorTolkien’s own children, The Hobbit metwith instant acclaim when published. It isa complete and marvellous tale in itself,but it also forms a prelude to The Lord ofthe Rings.

‘One of the most influential books of ourgeneration’

The Times

CONTENTS

COVER PAGE

TITLE PAGE

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

NOTE ON THE TEXT

AUTHOR’S NOTE

CHAPTER I: AN UNEXPECTEDPARTY

CHAPTER II: ROAST MUTTON

CHAPTER III: A SHORT REST

CHAPTER IV: OVER HILL ANDUNDER HILL

CHAPTER V: RIDDLES IN THE DARK

CHAPTER VI: OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN INTO THE FIRE

CHAPTER VII: QUEER LODGINGS

CHAPTER VIII: FLIES AND SPIDERS

CHAPTER IX: BARRELS OUT OFBOND

CHAPTER X: A WARM WELCOME

CHAPTER XI: ON THE DOORSTEP

CHAPTER XII: INSIDE INFORMATION

CHAPTER XIII: NOT AT HOME

CHAPTER XIV: FIRE AND WATER

CHAPTER XV: THE GATHERING OFTHE CLOUDS

CHAPTER XVI: A THIEF IN THENIGHT

CHAPTER XVII: THE CLOUDS BURST

CHAPTER XVIII: THE RETURNJOURNEY

CHAPTER XIX: THE LAST STAGE

WORKS BY J.R.R. TOLKIEN

COPYRIGHT

ABOUT THE PUBLISHER

ILLUSTRATIONS

Thror’s MapThe TrollsThe Mountain-pathThe Misty Mountains looking WestBeorn’s HallThe Elvenking’s GateLake TownThe Front GateThe Hall at Bag-EndMap of Wilderland

NOTE ON THE TEXT

The Hobbit was first published inSeptember 1937. Its 1951 second edition(fifth impression) contains a significantlyrevised portion of Chapter V, “Riddles inthe Dark,” which brings the story of TheHobbit more in line with its sequel, TheLord of the Rings, then in progress.Tolkien made some further revisions tothe American edition published byBallantine Books in February 1966, and tothe British third edition (sixteenthimpression) published by George Allen &Unwin later that same year.

For the 1995 British hardcover edition,published by HarperCollins, the text ofThe Hobbit was entered into word-

processing files, and a number of furthercorrections of misprints and errors weremade. Since then, various editions of TheHobbit have been generated from thatcomputerized text file. For the presenttext, that file has been compared again,line by line, with the earlier editions, anda number of further corrections have beenmade to present a text that, as closely aspossible, represents Tolkien’s finalintended form.

Readers interested in details of thechanges made at various times to the texto f The Hobbit are referred to AppendixA, “Textual and Revisional Notes,” ofThe Annotated Hobbit (1988), and J. R.R. Tolkien: A Descriptive Bibliographyby Wayne G. Hammond, with theassistance of Douglas A. Anderson

(1993).

Douglas A. AndersonMay 2001

Author's Note

This is a story of long ago. At that time thelanguages and letters were quite differentfrom ours of today. English is used torepresent the languages. But two pointsmay be noted. (1) In English the onlycorrect plural of dwarf is dwarfs, and theadjective is dwarfish. In this storydwarves and dwarvish are used*, but onlywhen speaking of the ancient people towhom Thorin Oakenshield and hiscompanions belonged. (2) Orc is not an

English word. It occurs in one or twoplaces but is usually translated goblin (orhobgoblin for the larger kinds). Orc is thehobbits’ form of the name given at thattime to these creatures, and it is notconnected at all with our orc, ork, appliedto sea-animals of dolphin-kind.

Runes were old letters originally usedfor cutting or scratching on wood, stone,or metal, and so were thin and angular. Atthe time of this tale only the Dwarvesmade regular use of them, especially forprivate or secret records. Their runes arein this book represented by English runes,which are known now to few people. Ifthe runes on Thror’s Map are comparedwith the transcriptions into modernletters† †, the alphabet, adapted to modernEnglish, can be discovered and the above

runic title also read. On the Map all thenormal runes are found, except for X. Iand U are used for J and V. There was norune for Q (use CW); nor for Z (the dwarf-rune may be used if required). It will befound, however, that some single runesstand for two modern letters: th, ng, ee;other runes of the same kind ( ea and st) were also sometimes used. The secretdoor was marked D . From the side ahand pointed to this, and under it wasw r i t t e n :

The last Two runes are the initials ofThror and Thrain. The moon-runes read byElrond were:

On the Map the compass points are

marked in runes, with East at the top, asusual in dwarf-maps, and so readclockwise: E(ast), S(outh), W(est),N(orth).

Chapter I

AN UNEXPECTED PARTY

In a hole in the ground there lived ahobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filledwith the ends of worms and an oozy smell,nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole withnothing in it to sit down on or to eat: itwas a hobbit-hole, and that meanscomfort.

It had a perfectly round door like aporthole, painted green, with a shinyyellow brass knob in the exact middle.The door opened on to a tube-shaped halllike a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel

without smoke, with panelled walls, andfloors tiled and carpeted, provided withpolished chairs, and lots and lots of pegsfor hats and coats—the hobbit was fond ofvisitors. The tunnel wound on and on,going fairly but not quite straight into theside of the hill—The Hill, as all thepeople for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out ofit, first on one side and then on another.No going upstairs for the hobbit:bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries(lots of these), wardrobes (he had wholerooms devoted to clothes), kitchens,dining-rooms, all were on the same floor,and indeed on the same passage. The bestrooms were all on the left-hand side(going in), for these were the only ones tohave windows, deep-set round windows

looking over his garden, and meadowsbeyond, sloping down to the river.

This hobbit was a very well-to-dohobbit, and his name was Baggins. TheBagginses had lived in the neighbourhoodof The Hill for time out of mind, andpeople considered them very respectable,not only because most of them were rich,but also because they never had anyadventures or did anything unexpected:you could tell what a Baggins would sayon any question without the bother ofasking him. This is a story of how aBaggins had an adventure, and foundhimself doing and saying things altogetherunexpected. He may have lost theneighbours’ respect, but he gained—well,you will see whether he gained anything inthe end.

The mother of our particular hobbit—what is a hobbit? I suppose hobbits needsome description nowadays, since theyhave become rare and shy of the BigPeople, as they call us. They are (or were)a little people, about half our height, andsmaller than the bearded Dwarves.Hobbits have no beards. There is little orno magic about them, except the ordinaryeveryday sort which helps them todisappear quietly and quickly when largestupid folk like you and me comeblundering along, making a noise likeelephants which they can hear a mile off.They are inclined to be fat in the stomach;they dress in bright colours (chiefly greenand yellow); wear no shoes, because theirfeet grow natural leathery soles and thickwarm brown hair like the stuff on their

heads (which is curly); have long cleverbrown fingers, good-natured faces, andlaugh deep fruity laughs (especially afterdinner, which they have twice a day whenthey can get it). Now you know enough togo on with. As I was saying, the mother ofthis hobbit—of Bilbo Baggins, that is—was the famous Belladonna Took, one ofthe three remarkable daughters of the OldTook, head of the hobbits who livedacross The Water, the small river that ranat the foot of The Hill. It was often said(in other families) that long ago one of theTook ancestors must have taken a fairywife. That was, of course, absurd, butcertainly there was still something notentirely hobbitlike about them, and once ina while members of the Took-clan wouldgo and have adventures. They discreetly

disappeared, and the family hushed it up;but the fact remained that the Tooks werenot as respectable as the Bagginses,though they were undoubtedly richer.

Not that Belladonna Took ever had anyadventures after she became Mrs. BungoBaggins. Bungo, that was Bilbo’s father,built the most luxurious hobbit-hole forher (and partly with her money) that wasto be found either under The Hill or overThe Hill or across The Water, and therethey remained to the end of their days.Still it is probable that Bilbo, her onlyson, although he looked and behavedexactly like a second edition of his solidand comfortable father, got something a bitqueer in his make-up from the Took side,something that only waited for a chance tocome out. The chance never arrived, until

Bilbo Baggins was grown up, being aboutfifty years old or so, and living in thebeautiful hobbit-hole built by his father,which I have just described for you, untilhe had in fact apparently settled downimmovably.

By some curious chance one morninglong ago in the quiet of the world, whenthere was less noise and more green, andthe hobbits were still numerous andprosperous, and Bilbo Baggins wasstanding at his door after breakfastsmoking an enormous long wooden pipethat reached nearly down to his woollytoes (neatly brushed)—Gandalf came by.Gandalf! If you had heard only a quarter ofwhat I have heard about him, and I haveonly heard very little of all there is tohear, you would be prepared for any sort

of remarkable tale. Tales and adventuressprouted up all over the place whereverhe went, in the most extraordinary fashion.He had not been down that way under TheHill for ages and ages, not since his friendthe Old Took died, in fact, and the hobbitshad almost forgotten what he looked like.He had been away over The Hill andacross The Water on businesses of hisown since they were all small hobbit-boysand hobbit-girls.

All that the unsuspecting Bilbo saw thatmorning was an old man with a staff. Hehad a tall pointed blue hat, a long greycloak, a silver scarf over which his longwhite beard hung down below his waist,and immense black boots.

“Good Morning!” said Bilbo, and hemeant it. The sun was shining, and the

grass was very green. But Gandalf lookedat him from under long bushy eyebrowsthat stuck out further than the brim of hisshady hat.

“What do you mean?” he said. “Do youwish me a good morning, or mean that it isa good morning whether I want it or not;or that you feel good this morning; or thatit is a morning to be good on?”

“All of them at once,” said Bilbo. “Anda very fine morning for a pipe of tobaccoout of doors, into the bargain. If you havea pipe about you, sit down and have a fillof mine! There’s no hurry, we have all theday before us!” Then Bilbo sat down on aseat by his door, crossed his legs, andblew out a beautiful grey ring of smokethat sailed up into the air without breakingand floated away over The Hill.

“Very pretty!” said Gandalf. “But Ihave no time to blow smoke-rings thismorning. I am looking for someone toshare in an adventure that I am arranging,and it’s very difficult to find anyone.”

“I should think so—in these parts! Weare plain quiet folk and have no use foradventures. Nasty disturbinguncomfortable things! Make you late fordinner! I can’t think what anybody sees inthem,” said our Mr. Baggins, and stuckone thumb behind his braces, and blew outanother even bigger smokering. Then hetook out his morning letters, and began toread, pretending to take no more notice ofthe old man. He had decided that he wasnot quite his sort, and wanted him to goaway. But the old man did not move. Hestood leaning on his stick and gazing at the

hobbit without saying anything, till Bilbogot quite uncomfortable and even a littlecross.

“Good morning!” he said at last. “Wedon’t want any adventures here, thank you!You might try over The Hill or across TheWater.” By this he meant that theconversation was at an end.

“What a lot of things you do use Goodmorning for!” said Gandalf. “Now youmean that you want to get rid of me, andthat it won’t be good till I move off.”

“Not at all, not at all, my dear sir! Letme see, I don’t think I know your name?”

“Yes, yes, my dear sir—and I do knowyour name, Mr. Bilbo Baggins. And youdo know my name, though you don’tremember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf,and Gandalf means me! To think that I

should have lived to be good-morningedby Belladonna Took’s son, as if I wasselling buttons at the door!”

“Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me!Not the wandering wizard that gave OldTook a pair of magic diamond studs thatfastened themselves and never cameundone till ordered? Not the fellow whoused to tell such wonderful tales atparties, about dragons and goblins andgiants and the rescue of princesses and theunexpected luck of widows’ sons? Not theman that used to make such particularlyexcellent fireworks! I remember those!Old Took used to have them onMidsummer’s Eve. Splendid! They usedto go up like great lilies and snapdragonsand laburnums of fire and hang in thetwilight all evening!” You will notice

already that Mr. Baggins was not quite soprosy as he liked to believe, also that hewas very fond of flowers. “Dear me!” hewent on. “Not the Gandalf who wasresponsible for so many quiet lads andlasses going off into the Blue for madadventures? Anything from climbing treesto visiting elves—or sailing in ships,sailing to other shores! Bless me, life usedto be quite inter—I mean, you used toupset things badly in these parts once upona time. I beg your pardon, but I had noidea you were still in business.”

“Where else should I be?” said thewizard. “All the same I am pleased to findyou remember something about me. Youseem to remember my fireworks kindly, atany rate, and that is not without hope.Indeed for your old grandfather Took’s

sake, and for the sake of poor Belladonna,I will give you what you asked for.”

“I beg your pardon, I haven’t asked foranything!”

“Yes, you have! Twice now. Mypardon. I give it you. In fact I will go sofar as to send you on this adventure. Veryamusing for me, very good for you—andprofitable too, very likely, if you ever getover it.”

“Sorry! I don’t want any adventures,thank you. Not today. Good morning! Butplease come to tea—any time you like!Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow!Good bye!” With that the hobbit turnedand scuttled inside his round green door,and shut it as quickly as he dared, not toseem rude. Wizards after all are wizards.

“What on earth did I ask him to tea for!”

he said to himself, as he went to thepantry. He had only just had breakfast, buthe thought a cake or two and a drink ofsomething would do him good after hisfright.

Gandalf in the meantime was stillstanding outside the door, and laughinglong but quietly. After a while he steppedup, and with the spike on his staffscratched a queer sign on the hobbit’sbeautiful green front-door. Then he strodeaway, just about the time when Bilbo wasfinishing his second cake and beginning tothink that he had escaped adventures verywell.

The next day he had almost forgottenabout Gandalf. He did not rememberthings very well, unless he put them downon his Engagement Tablet: like this:

Gandalf Tea Wednesday . Yesterday hehad been too flustered to do anything ofthe kind.

Just before tea-time there came atremendous ring on the front-door bell,and then he remembered! He rushed andput on the kettle, and put out another cupand saucer, and an extra cake or two, andran to the door.

“I am so sorry to keep you waiting!” hewas going to say, when he saw that it wasnot Gandalf at all. It was a dwarf with ablue beard tucked into a golden belt, andvery bright eyes under his dark-greenhood. As soon as the door was opened, hepushed inside, just as if he had beenexpected.

He hung his hooded cloak on the nearestpeg, and “Dwalin at your service!” he

said with a low bow.“Bilbo Baggins at yours!” said the

hobbit, too surprised to ask any questionsfor the moment. When the silence thatfollowed had become uncomfortable, headded: “I am just about to take tea; praycome and have some with me.” A littlestiff perhaps, but he meant it kindly. Andwhat would you do, if an uninvited dwarfcame and hung his things up in your hallwithout a word of explanation?

They had not been at table long, in factthey had hardly reached the third cake,when there came another even louder ringat the bell.

“Excuse me!” said the hobbit, and offhe went to the door.

“So you have got here at last!” Thatwas what he was going to say to Gandalf

this time. But it was not Gandalf. Insteadthere was a very old-looking dwarf on thestep with a white beard and a scarlethood; and he too hopped inside as soon asthe door was open, just as if he had beeninvited.

“I see they have begun to arrivealready,” he said when he caught sight ofDwalin’s green hood hanging up. He hunghis red one next to it, and “Balin at yourservice!” he said with his hand on hisbreast.

“Thank you!” said Bilbo with a gasp. Itwas not the correct thing to say, but theyhave begun to arrive had flustered himbadly. He liked visitors, but he liked toknow them before they arrived, and hepreferred to ask them himself. He had ahorrible thought that the cakes might run

short, and then he—as the host: he knewhis duty and stuck to it however painful—he might have to go without.

“Come along in, and have some tea!” hemanaged to say after taking a deep breath.

“A little beer would suit me better, if itis all the same to you, my good sir,” saidBalin with the white beard. “But I don’tmind some cake—seed-cake, if you haveany.”

“Lots!” Bilbo found himself answering,to his own surprise; and he found himselfscuttling off, too, to the cellar to fill a pintbeer-mug, and then to a pantry to fetch twobeautiful round seed-cakes which he hadbaked that afternoon for his after-suppermorsel.

When he got back Balin and Dwalinwere talking at the table like old friends

(as a matter of fact they were brothers).Bilbo plumped down the beer and thecake in front of them, when loud came aring at the bell again, and then anotherring.

“Gandalf for certain this time,” hethought as he puffed along the passage. Butit was not. It was two more dwarves, bothwith blue hoods, silver belts, and yellowbeards; and each of them carried a bag oftools and a spade. In they hopped, as soonas the door began to open—Bilbo washardly surprised at all.

“What can I do for you, my dwarves?”he said.

“Kili at your service!” said the one.“And Fili!” added the other; and they bothswept off their blue hoods and bowed.

“At yours and your family’s!” replied

Bilbo, remembering his manners this time.“Dwalin and Balin here already, I see,”

said Kili. “Let us join the throng!”“Throng!” thought Mr. Baggins. “I don’t

like the sound of that. I really must sitdown for a minute and collect my wits,and have a drink.” He had only just had asip—in the corner, while the four dwarvessat round the table, and talked about minesand gold and troubles with the goblins,and the depredations of dragons, and lotsof other things which he did notunderstand, and did not want to, for theysounded much too adventurous—when,ding-dong-a-ling-dang, his bell rangagain, as if some naughty little hobbit-boywas trying to pull the handle off.

“Someone at the door!” he said,blinking.

“Some four, I should say by the sound,”said Fili. “Besides, we saw them comingalong behind us in the distance.”

The poor little hobbit sat down in thehall and put his head in his hands, andwondered what had happened, and whatwas going to happen, and whether theywould all stay to supper. Then the bellrang again louder than ever, and he had torun to the door. It was not four after all, itwas five. Another dwarf had come alongwhile he was wondering in the hall. Hehad hardly turned the knob, before theywere all inside, bowing and saying “atyour service” one after another. Dori,Nori, Ori, Oin, and Gloin were theirnames; and very soon two purple hoods, agrey hood, a brown hood, and a whitehood were hanging on the pegs, and off

they marched with their broad hands stuckin their gold and silver belts to join theothers. Already it had almost become athrong. Some called for ale, and some forporter, and one for coffee, and all of themfor cakes; so the hobbit was kept verybusy for a while.

A big jug of coffee had just been set inthe hearth, the seed-cakes were gone, andthe dwarves were starting on a round ofbuttered scones, when there came—a loudknock. Not a ring, but a hard rat-tat on thehobbit’s beautiful green door. Somebodywas banging with a stick!

Bilbo rushed along the passage, veryangry, and altogether bewildered andbewuthered—this was the most awkwardWednesday he ever remembered. Hepulled open the door with a jerk, and they

all fell in, one on top of the other. Moredwarves, four more! And there wasGandalf behind, leaning on his staff andlaughing. He had made quite a dent on thebeautiful door; he had also, by the way,knocked out the secret mark that he had putthere the morning before.

“Carefully! Carefully!” he said. “It isnot like you, Bilbo, to keep friendswaiting on the mat, and then open the doorlike a pop-gun! Let me introduce Bifur,Bofur, Bombur, and especially Thorin!”

“At your service!” said Bifur, Bofur,and Bombur standing in a row. Then theyhung up two yellow hoods and a palegreen one; and also a sky-blue one with along silver tassel. This last belonged toThorin, an enormously important dwarf, infact no other than the great Thorin

Oakenshield himself, who was not at allpleased at falling flat on Bilbo’s mat withBifur, Bofur, and Bombur on top of him.For one thing Bombur was immensely fatand heavy. Thorin indeed was veryhaughty, and said nothing about service;but poor Mr. Baggins said he was sorry somany times, that at last he grunted “praydon’t mention it,” and stopped frowning.

“Now we are all here!” said Gandalf,looking at the row of thirteen hoods—thebest detachable party hoods—and his ownhat hanging on the pegs. “Quite a merrygathering! I hope there is something leftfor the late-comers to eat and drink!What’s that? Tea! No thank you! A littlered wine, I think for me.”

“And for me,” said Thorin.“And raspberry jam and apple-tart,”

said Bifur.“And mince-pies and cheese,” said

Bofur.“And pork-pie and salad,” said

Bombur.“And more cakes—and ale—and

coffee, if you don’t mind,” called the otherdwarves through the door.

“Put on a few eggs, there’s a goodfellow!” Gandalf called after him, as thehobbit stumped off to the pantries. “Andjust bring out the cold chicken andpickles!”

“Seems to know as much about theinside of my larders as I do myself!”thought Mr. Baggins, who was feelingpositively flummoxed, and was beginningto wonder whether a most wretchedadventure had not come right into his

house. By the time he had got all thebottles and dishes and knives and forksand glasses and plates and spoons andthings piled up on big trays, he was gettingvery hot, and red in the face, and annoyed.

“Confusticate and bebother thesedwarves!” he said aloud. “Why don’t theycome and lend a hand?” Lo and behold!there stood Balin and Dwalin at the doorof the kitchen, and Fili and Kili behindthem, and before he could say knife theyhad whisked the trays and a couple ofsmall tables into the parlour and set outeverything afresh.

Gandalf sat at the head of the party withthe thirteen dwarves all round: and Bilbosat on a stool at the fireside, nibbling at abiscuit (his appetite was quite takenaway), and trying to look as if this was all

perfectly ordinary and not in the least anadventure. The dwarves ate and ate, andtalked and talked, and time got on. At lastthey pushed their chairs back, and Bilbomade a move to collect the plates andglasses.

“I suppose you will all stay to supper?”he said in his politest unpressing tones.

“Of course!” said Thorin. “And after.We shan’t get through the business tilllate, and we must have some music first.Now to clear up!”

Thereupon the twelve dwarves—notThorin, he was too important, and stayedtalking to Gandalf—jumped to their feet,and made tall piles of all the things. Offthey went, not waiting for trays, balancingcolumns of plates, each with a bottle onthe top, with one hand, while the hobbit

ran after them almost squeaking withfright: “please be careful!” and “please,don’t trouble! I can manage.” But thedwarves only started to sing:

Chip the glasses and crack theplates!Blunt the knives and bend the forks!That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates–Smash the bottles and burn thecorks!

Cut the cloth and tread on the fat!Pour the milk on the pantry floor!Leave the bones on the bedroommat!Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;Pound them up with a thumpingpole;And when you’ve finished, if any arewhole,Send them down the hall to roll!

That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates!So, carefully! carefully with theplates!

And of course they did none of thesedreadful things, and everything wascleaned and put away safe as quick aslightning, while the hobbit was turninground and round in the middle of thekitchen trying to see what they were doing.

Then they went back, and found Thorinwith his feet on the fender smoking a pipe.He was blowing the most enormoussmoke-rings, and wherever he told one togo, it went—up the chimney, or behind theclock on the mantelpiece, or under thetable, or round and round the ceiling; butwherever it went it was not quick enoughto escape Gandalf. Pop! he sent a smallersmoke-ring from his short clay-pipestraight through each one of Thorin’s.Then Gandalf’s smoke-ring would gogreen and come back to hover over thewizard’s head. He had a cloud of themabout him already, and in the dim light itmade him look strange and sorcerous.Bilbo stood still and watched—he lovedsmoke-rings—and then he blushed to thinkhow proud he had been yesterday morning

of the smoke-rings he had sent up the windover The Hill.

“Now for some music!” said Thorin.“Bring out the instruments!”

Kili and Fili rushed for their bags andbrought back little fiddles; Dori, Nori, andOri brought out flutes from somewhereinside their coats; Bombur produced adrum from the hall; Bifur and Bofur wentout too, and came back with clarinets thatthey had left among the walking-sticks.Dwalin and Balin said: “Excuse me, I leftmine in the porch!” “Just bring mine inwith you!” said Thorin. They came backwith viols as big as themselves, and withThorin’s harp wrapped in a green cloth. Itwas a beautiful golden harp, and whenThorin struck it the music began all atonce, so sudden and sweet that Bilbo

forgot everything else, and was sweptaway into dark lands under strange moons,far over The Water and very far from hishobbit-hole under The Hill.

The dark came into the room from thelittle window that opened in the side ofThe Hill; the firelight flickered—it wasApril—and still they played on, while theshadow of Gandalf’s beard waggedagainst the wall.

The dark filled all the room, and thefire died down, and the shadows werelost, and still they played on. Andsuddenly first one and then another beganto sing as they played, deep-throatedsinging of the dwarves in the deep placesof their ancient homes; and this is like afragment of their song, if it can be liketheir song without their music.

Far over the misty mountains coldTo dungeons deep and caverns oldWe must away ere break of dayTo seek the pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mightyspells,While hammers fell like ringingbellsIn places deep, where dark thingssleep,In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lordThere many a gleaming goldenhoardThey shaped and wrought, and light

they caughtTo hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strungThe flowering stars, on crowns theyhungThe dragon-fire, in twisted wireThey meshed the light of moon andsun.

Far over the misty mountains coldTo dungeons deep and caverns oldWe must away, ere break of day,To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carved there forthemselves

And harps of gold; where no mandelvesThere lay they long, and many asongWas sung unheard by men or elves.

The pines were roaring on theheight,The winds were moaning in thenight.The fire was red, it flaming spread;The trees like torches blazed withlight.

The bells were ringing in the daleAnd men looked up with faces pale;The dragon’s ire more fierce than

fireLaid low their towers and housesfrail.

The mountain smoked beneath themoon;The dwarves, they heard the trampof doom.They fled their hall to dying fallBeneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the misty mountains grimTo dungeons deep and caverns dimWe must away, ere break of day,To win our harps and gold fromhim!

As they sang the hobbit felt the love ofbeautiful things made by hands and bycunning and by magic moving through him,a fierce and a jealous love, the desire ofthe hearts of dwarves. Then somethingTookish woke up inside him, and hewished to go and see the great mountains,and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls,and explore the caves, and wear a swordinstead of a walking-stick. He looked outof the window. The stars were out in adark sky above the trees. He thought of thejewels of the dwarves shining in darkcaverns. Suddenly in the wood beyondThe Water a flame leapt up—probablysomebody lighting a wood-fire—and hethought of plundering dragons settling onhis quiet Hill and kindling it all to flames.He shuddered; and very quickly he was

plain Mr. Baggins of Bag-End, Under-Hill, again.

He got up trembling. He had less thanhalf a mind to fetch the lamp, and morethan half a mind to pretend to, and go andhide behind the beer-barrels in the cellar,and not come out again until all thedwarves had gone away. Suddenly hefound that the music and the singing hadstopped, and they were all looking at himwith eyes shining in the dark.

“Where are you going?” said Thorin, ina tone that seemed to show that he guessedboth halves of the hobbit’s mind.

“What about a little light?” said Bilboapologetically.

“We like the dark,” said all thedwarves. “Dark for dark business! Thereare many hours before dawn.”

“Of course!” said Bilbo, and sat downin a hurry. He missed the stool and sat inthe fender, knocking over the poker andshovel with a crash.

“Hush!” said Gandalf. “Let Thorinspeak!” And this is how Thorin began.

“Gandalf, dwarves and Mr. Baggins!We are met together in the house of ourfriend and fellow conspirator, this mostexcellent and audacious hobbit—may thehair on his toes never fall out! all praise tohis wine and ale!—” He paused for breathand for a polite remark from the hobbit,but the compliments were quite lost onpoor Bilbo Baggins, who was wagging hismouth in protest at being called audaciousand worst of all fellow conspirator,though no noise came out, he was soflummoxed. So Thorin went on:

“We are met to discuss our plans, ourways, means, policy and devices. Weshall soon before the break of day start onour long journey, a journey from whichsome of us, or perhaps all of us (exceptour friend and counsellor, the ingeniouswizard Gandalf) may never return. It is asolemn moment. Our object is, I take it,well known to us all. To the estimable Mr.Baggins, and perhaps to one or two of theyounger dwarves (I think I should be rightin naming Kili and Fili, for instance), theexact situation at the moment may requirea little brief explanation—”

This was Thorin’s style. He was animportant dwarf. If he had been allowed,he would probably have gone on like thisuntil he was out of breath, without tellingany one there anything that was not known

already. But he was rudely interrupted.Poor Bilbo couldn’t bear it any longer. Atmay never return he began to feel a shriekcoming up inside, and very soon it burstout like the whistle of an engine comingout of a tunnel. All the dwarves sprang up,knocking over the table. Gandalf struck ablue light on the end of his magic staff,and in its firework glare the poor littlehobbit could be seen kneeling on thehearth-rug, shaking like a jelly that wasmelting. Then he fell flat on the floor, andkept on calling out “struck by lightning,struck by lightning!” over and over again;and that was all they could get out of himfor a long time. So they took him and laidhim out of the way on the drawing-roomsofa with a drink at his elbow, and theywent back to their dark business.

“Excitable little fellow,” said Gandalf,as they sat down again. “Gets funny queerfits, but he is one of the best, one of thebest—as fierce as a dragon in a pinch.”

If you have ever seen a dragon in apinch, you will realize that this was onlypoetical exaggeration applied to anyhobbit, even to Old Took’s great-grand-uncle Bullroarer, who was so huge (for ahobbit) that he could ride a horse. Hecharged the ranks of the goblins of MountGram in the Battle of the Green Fields,and knocked their king Golfimbul’s headclean off with a wooden club. It sailed ahundred yards through the air and wentdown a rabbit-hole, and in this way thebattle was won and the game of Golfinvented at the same moment.

In the meanwhile, however,

Bullroarer’s gentler descendant wasreviving in the drawing-room. After awhile and a drink he crept nervously to thedoor of the parlour. This is what he heard,Gloin speaking: “Humph!” (or some snortmore or less like that). “Will he do, doyou think? It is all very well for Gandalfto talk about this hobbit being fierce, butone shriek like that in a moment ofexcitement would be enough to wake thedragon and all his relatives, and kill thelot of us. I think it sounded more like frightthan excitement! In fact, if it had not beenfor the sign on the door, I should havebeen sure we had come to the wronghouse. As soon as I clapped eyes on thelittle fellow bobbing and puffing on themat, I had my doubts. He looks more likea grocer than a burglar!”

Then Mr. Baggins turned the handle andwent in. The Took side had won. Hesuddenly felt he would go without bed andbreakfast to be thought fierce. As for littlefellow bobbing on the mat it almost madehim really fierce. Many a time afterwardsthe Baggins part regretted what he didnow, and he said to himself: “Bilbo, youwere a fool; you walked right in and putyour foot in it.”

“Pardon me,” he said, “if I haveoverheard words that you were saying. Idon’t pretend to understand what you aretalking about, or your reference toburglars, but I think I am right inbelieving” (this is what he called being onhis dignity) “that you think I am no good. Iwill show you. I have no signs on my door—it was painted a week ago—, and I am

quite sure you have come to the wronghouse. As soon as I saw your funny faceson the door-step, I had my doubts. Buttreat it as the right one. Tell me what youwant done, and I will try it, if I have towalk from here to the East of East andfight the wild Were-worms in the LastDesert. I had a great-great-great-grand-uncle once, Bullroarer Took, and—”

“Yes, yes, but that was long ago,” saidGloin. “I was talking about you. And Iassure you there is a mark on this door—the usual one in the trade, or used to be.Burglar wants a good job, plenty ofExcitement and reasonable Reward ,that’s how it is usually read. You can sayExpert Treasure-hunter instead ofBurglar if you like. Some of them do. It’sall the same to us. Gandalf told us that

there was a man of the sort in these partslooking for a Job at once, and that he hadarranged for a meeting here thisWednesday tea-time.”

“Of course there is a mark,” saidGandalf. “I put it there myself. For verygood reasons. You asked me to find thefourteenth man for your expedition, and Ichose Mr. Baggins. Just let any one say Ichose the wrong man or the wrong house,and you can stop at thirteen and have allthe bad luck you like, or go back todigging coal.”

He scowled so angrily at Gloin that thedwarf huddled back in his chair; and whenBilbo tried to open his mouth to ask aquestion, he turned and frowned at himand stuck out his bushy eyebrows, tillBilbo shut his mouth tight with a snap.

“That’s right,” said Gandalf. “Let’s haveno more argument. I have chosen Mr.Baggins and that ought to be enough for allof you. If I say he is a Burglar, a Burglarhe is, or will be when the time comes.There is a lot more in him than you guess,and a deal more than he has any idea ofhimself. You may (possibly) all live tothank me yet. Now Bilbo, my boy, fetchthe lamp, and let’s have a little light onthis!”

On the table in the light of a big lampwith a red shade he spread a piece ofparchment rather like a map.

“This was made by Thror, yourgrandfather, Thorin,” he said in answer tothe dwarves’ excited questions. “It is aplan of the Mountain.”

“I don’t see that this will help us

much,” said Thorin disappointedly after aglance. “I remember the Mountain wellenough and the lands about it. And I knowwhere Mirkwood is, and the WitheredHeath where the great dragons bred.”

“There is a dragon marked in red on theMountain,” said Balin, “but it will be easyenough to find him without that, if ever wearrive there.”

“There is one point that you haven’tnoticed,” said the wizard, “and that is thesecret entrance. You see that rune on theWest side, and the hand pointing to it fromthe other runes? That marks a hiddenpassage to the Lower Halls.” (Look at themap at the beginning of this book, and youwill see there the runes.)

“It may have been secret once,” saidThorin, “but how do we know that it is

secret any longer? Old Smaug has livedthere long enough now to find out anythingthere is to know about those caves.”

“He may—but he can’t have used it foryears and years.”

“Why?”“Because it is too small. ‘Five feet high

the door and three may walk abreast’ saythe runes, but Smaug could not creep intoa hole that size, not even when he was ayoung dragon, certainly not afterdevouring so many of the dwarves andmen of Dale.”

“It seems a great big hole to me,”squeaked Bilbo (who had no experienceof dragons and only of hobbit-holes). Hewas getting excited and interested again,so that he forgot to keep his mouth shut.He loved maps, and in his hall there hung

a large one of the Country Round with allhis favourite walks marked on it in redink. “How could such a large door be keptsecret from everybody outside, apart fromthe dragon?” he asked. He was only alittle hobbit you must remember.

“In lots of ways,” said Gandalf. “But inwhat way this one has been hidden wedon’t know without going to see. Fromwhat it says on the map I should guessthere is a closed door which has beenmade to look exactly like the side of theMountain. That is the usual dwarves’method—I think that is right, isn’t it?”

“Quite right,” said Thorin.“Also,” went on Gandalf, “I forgot to

mention that with the map went a key, asmall and curious key. Here it is!” he said,and handed to Thorin a key with a long

barrel and intricate wards, made of silver.“Keep it safe!”

“Indeed I will,” said Thorin, and hefastened it upon a fine chain that hungabout his neck and under his jacket. “Nowthings begin to look more hopeful. Thisnews alters them much for the better. Sofar we have had no clear idea what to do.We thought of going East, as quiet andcareful as we could, as far as the LongLake. After that the trouble would begin—.”

“A long time before that, if I knowanything about the roads East,” interruptedGandalf.

“We might go from there up along theRiver Running,” went on Thorin taking nonotice, “and so to the ruins of Dale—theold town in the valley there, under the

shadow of the Mountain. But we none ofus liked the idea of the Front Gate. Theriver runs right out of it through the greatcliff at the South of the Mountain, and outof it comes the dragon too—far too often,unless he has changed his habits.”

“That would be no good,” said thewizard, “not without a mighty Warrior,even a Hero. I tried to find one; butwarriors are busy fighting one another indistant lands, and in this neighbourhoodheroes are scarce, or simply not to befound. Swords in these parts are mostlyblunt, and axes are used for trees, andshields as cradles or dish-covers; anddragons are comfortably far-off (andtherefore legendary). That is why I settledo n burglary—especially when Iremembered the existence of a Side-door.

And here is our little Bilbo Baggins, theburglar, the chosen and selected burglar.So now let’s get on and make someplans.”

“Very well then,” said Thorin,“supposing the burglar-expert gives ussome ideas or suggestions.” He turnedwith mock-politeness to Bilbo.

“First I should like to know a bit moreabout things,” said he, feeling all confusedand a bit shaky inside, but so far stillTookishly determined to go on with things.“I mean about the gold and the dragon, andall that, and how it got there, and who itbelongs to, and so on and further.”

“Bless me!” said Thorin, “haven’t yougot a map? and didn’t you hear our song?and haven’t we been talking about all thisfor hours?”

“All the same, I should like it all plainand clear,” said he obstinately, putting onhis business manner (usually reserved forpeople who tried to borrow money offhim), and doing his best to appear wiseand prudent and professional and live upto Gandalf’s recommendation. “Also Ishould like to know about risks, out-of-pocket expenses, time required andremuneration, and so forth”—by which hemeant: “What am I going to get out of it?and am I going to come back alive?”

“O very well,” said Thorin. “Long agoin my grandfather Thror’s time our familywas driven out of the far North, and cameback with all their wealth and their toolsto this Mountain on the map. It had beendiscovered by my far ancestor, Thrain theOld, but now they mined and they

tunnelled and they made huger halls andgreater workshops—and in addition Ibelieve they found a good deal of gold anda great many jewels too. Anyway theygrew immensely rich and famous, and mygrandfather was King under the Mountainagain, and treated with great reverence bythe mortal men, who lived to the South,and were gradually spreading up theRunning River as far as the valleyovershadowed by the Mountain. Theybuilt the merry town of Dale there in thosedays. Kings used to send for our smiths,and reward even the least skillful mostrichly. Fathers would beg us to take theirsons as apprentices, and pay ushandsomely, especially in food-supplies,which we never bothered to grow or findfor ourselves. Altogether those were good

days for us, and the poorest of us hadmoney to spend and to lend, and leisure tomake beautiful things just for the fun of it,not to speak of the most marvellous andmagical toys, the like of which is not to befound in the world now-a-days. So mygrandfather’s halls became full of armourand jewels and carvings and cups, and thetoy market of Dale was the wonder of theNorth.

“Undoubtedly that was what brought thedragon. Dragons steal gold and jewels,you know, from men and elves anddwarves, wherever they can find them;and they guard their plunder as long asthey live (which is practically for ever,unless they are killed), and never enjoy abrass ring of it. Indeed they hardly know agood bit of work from a bad, though they

usually have a good notion of the currentmarket value; and they can’t make a thingfor themselves, not even mend a littleloose scale of their armour. There werelots of dragons in the North in those days,and gold was probably getting scarce upthere, with the dwarves flying south orgetting killed, and all the general wasteand destruction that dragons make goingfrom bad to worse. There was a mostspecially greedy, strong and wicked wormcalled Smaug. One day he flew up into theair and came south. The first we heard ofit was a noise like a hurricane comingfrom the North, and the pine-trees on theMountain creaking and cracking in thewind. Some of the dwarves who happenedto be outside (I was one luckily—a fineadventurous lad in those days, always

wandering about, and it saved my life thatday)—well, from a good way off we sawthe dragon settle on our mountain in aspout of flame. Then he came down theslopes and when he reached the woodsthey all went up in fire. By that time all thebells were ringing in Dale and thewarriors were arming. The dwarvesrushed out of their great gate; but therewas the dragon waiting for them. Noneescaped that way. The river rushed up insteam and a fog fell on Dale, and in thefog the dragon came on them anddestroyed most of the warriors—the usualunhappy story, it was only too common inthose days. Then he went back and creptin through the Front Gate and routed outall the halls, and lanes, and tunnels, alleys,cellars, mansions and passages. After that

there were no dwarves left alive inside,and he took all their wealth for himself.Probably, for that is the dragons’ way, hehas piled it all up in a great heap farinside, and sleeps on it for a bed. Later heused to crawl out of the great gate andcome by night to Dale, and carry awaypeople, especially maidens, to eat, untilDale was ruined, and all the people deador gone. What goes on there now I don’tknow for certain, but I don’t suppose anyone lives nearer to the Mountain than thefar edge of the Long Lake now-a-days.

“The few of us that were well outsidesat and wept in hiding, and cursed Smaug;and there we were unexpectedly joined bymy father and my grandfather with singedbeards. They looked very grim but theysaid very little. When I asked how they

had got away, they told me to hold mytongue, and said that one day in the propertime I should know. After that we wentaway, and we have had to earn our livingsas best we could up and down the lands,often enough sinking as low asblacksmith-work or even coalmining. Butwe have never forgotten our stolentreasure. And even now, when I willallow we have a good bit laid by and arenot so badly off”—here Thorin stroked thegold chain round his neck—“we still meanto get it back, and to bring our curseshome to Smaug—if we can.

“I have often wondered about myfather’s and my grandfather’s escape. I seenow they must have had a private Side-door which only they knew about. Butapparently they made a map, and I should

like to know how Gandalf got hold of it,and why it did not come down to me, therightful heir.”

“I did not ‘get hold of it,’ I was givenit,” said the wizard. “Your grandfatherThror was killed, you remember, in themines of Moria by Azog the Goblin.”

“Curse his name, yes,” said Thorin.“And Thrain your father went away on

the twenty-first of April, a hundred yearsago last Thursday, and has never beenseen by you since–”

“True, true,” said Thorin.“Well, your father gave me this to give

to you; and if I have chosen my own timeand way for handing it over, you canhardly blame me, considering the trouble Ihad to find you. Your father could notremember his own name when he gave me

the paper, and he never told me yours; soon the whole I think I ought to be praisedand thanked! Here it is,” said he handingthe map to Thorin.

“I don’t understand,” said Thorin, andBilbo felt he would have liked to say thesame. The explanation did not seem toexplain.

“Your grandfather,” said the wizardslowly and grimly, “gave the map to hisson for safety before he went to the minesof Moria. Your father went away to try hisluck with the map after your grandfatherwas killed; and lots of adventures of amost unpleasant sort he had, but he nevergot near the Mountain. How he got there Idon’t know, but I found him a prisoner inthe dungeons of the Necromancer.”

“Whatever were you doing there?”

asked Thorin with a shudder, and all thedwarves shivered.

“Never you mind. I was finding thingsout, as usual; and a nasty dangerousbusiness it was. Even I, Gandalf, only justescaped. I tried to save your father, but itwas too late. He was witless andwandering, and had forgotten almosteverything except the map and the key.”

“We have long ago paid the goblins ofMoria,” said Thorin; “we must give athought to the Necromancer.”

“Don’t be absurd! He is an enemy farbeyond the powers of all the dwarves puttogether, if they could all be collectedagain from the four corners of the world.The one thing your father wished was forhis son to read the map and use the key.The dragon and the Mountain are more

than big enough tasks for you!”“Hear, hear!” said Bilbo, and

accidentally said it aloud.“Hear what?” they all said turning

suddenly towards him, and he was soflustered that he answered “Hear what Ihave got to say!”

“What’s that?” they asked.“Well, I should say that you ought to go

East and have a look round. After all thereis the Side-door, and dragons must sleepsometimes, I suppose. If you sit on thedoor-step long enough, I daresay you willthink of something. And well, don’t youknow, I think we have talked long enoughfor one night, if you see what I mean. Whatabout bed, and an early start, and all that?I will give you a good breakfast beforeyou go.”

“Before we go, I suppose you mean,”said Thorin. “Aren’t you the burglar? Andisn’t sitting on the door-step your job, notto speak of getting inside the door? But Iagree about bed and breakfast. I like sixeggs with my ham, when starting on ajourney: fried not poached, and mind youdon’t break ’em.”

After all the others had ordered theirbreakfasts without so much as a please(which annoyed Bilbo very much), they allgot up. The hobbit had to find room forthem all, and filled all his spare-roomsand made beds on chairs and sofas, beforehe got them all stowed and went to hisown little bed very tired and notaltogether happy. One thing he did makehis mind up about was not to bother to getup very early and cook everybody else’s

wretched breakfast. The Tookishness waswearing off, and he was not now quite sosure that he was going on any journey inthe morning.

As he lay in bed he could hear Thorinstill humming to himself in the bestbedroom next to him:

Far over the misty mountains coldTo dungeons deep and caverns oldWe must away, ere break of day,To find our long-forgotten gold.

Bilbo went to sleep with that in hisears, and it gave him very uncomfortabledreams. It was long after the break of day,when he woke up.

Chapter II

ROAST MUTTON

Up jumped Bilbo, and putting on hisdressing-gown went into the dining-room.There he saw nobody, but all the signs ofa large and hurried breakfast. There was afearful mess in the room, and piles ofunwashed crocks in the kitchen. Nearlyevery pot and pan he possessed seemed tohave been used. The washing-up was sodismally real that Bilbo was forced tobelieve the party of the night before hadnot been part of his bad dreams, as he hadrather hoped. Indeed he was really

relieved after all to think that they had allgone without him, and without bothering towake him up (“but with never a thank-you” he thought); and yet in a way hecould not help feeling just a trifledisappointed. The feeling surprised him.

“Don’t be a fool, Bilbo Baggins!” hesaid to himself, “thinking of dragons andall that outlandish nonsense at your age!”So he put on an apron, lit fires, boiledwater, and washed up. Then he had a nicelittle breakfast in the kitchen beforeturning out the dining-room. By that timethe sun was shining; and the front doorwas open, letting in a warm spring breeze.Bilbo began to whistle loudly and toforget about the night before. In fact hewas just sitting down to a nice littlesecond breakfast in the dining-room by the

open window, when in walked Gandalf.“My dear fellow,” said he, “whenever

are you going to come? What about anearly start?—and here you are havingbreakfast, or whatever you call it, at halfpast ten! They left you the message,because they could not wait.”

“What message?” said poor Mr.Baggins all in a fluster.

“Great Elephants!” said Gandalf, “youare not at all yourself this morning—youhave never dusted the mantelpiece!”

“What’s that got to do with it? I havehad enough to do with washing up forfourteen!”

“If you had dusted the mantelpiece, youwould have found this just under theclock,” said Gandalf, handing Bilbo a note(written, of course, on his own note-

paper).This is what he read:

“Thorin and Company to BurglarBilbo greeting! For your hospitality oursincerest thanks, and for your offer ofprofessional assistance our gratefulacceptance. Terms: cash on delivery, upto and not exceeding one fourteenth oftotal profits (if any); all travellingexpenses guaranteed in any event; funeralexpenses to be defrayed by us or ourrepresentatives, if occasion arises and thematter is not otherwise arranged for.

“Thinking it unnecessary to disturb youresteemed repose, we have proceeded inadvance to make requisite preparations,

and shall await your respected person atthe Green Dragon Inn, Bywater, at 11 a.m.sharp. Trusting that you will be punctual,

“ We have the honour to remain “ Yours deeply “ Thorin & Co.”

“That leaves you just ten minutes. Youwill have to run,” said Gandalf.

“But—,” said Bilbo.“No time for it,” said the wizard.“But—,” said Bilbo again.“No time for that either! Off you go!”To the end of his days Bilbo could

never remember how he found himselfoutside, without a hat, a walking-stick orany money, or anything that he usually tookwhen he went out; leaving his secondbreakfast half-finished and quiteunwashed-up, pushing his keys into

Gandalf’s hands, and running as fast as hisfurry feet could carry him down the lane,past the great Mill, across The Water, andthen on for a mile or more.

Very puffed he was, when he got toBywater just on the stroke of eleven, andfound he had come without a pocket-handkerchief!

“Bravo!” said Balin who was standingat the inn door looking out for him.

Just then all the others came round thecorner of the road from the village. Theywere on ponies, and each pony was slungabout with all kinds of baggages,packages, parcels, and paraphernalia.There was a very small pony, apparentlyfor Bilbo.

“Up you two get, and off we go!” saidThorin.

“I’m awfully sorry,” said Bilbo, “but Ihave come without my hat, and I have leftmy pocket-handkerchief behind, and Ihaven’t got any money. I didn’t get yournote until after 10.45 to be precise.”

“Don’t be precise,” said Dwalin, “anddon’t worry! You will have to managewithout pocket-handkerchiefs, and a goodmany other things, before you get to thejourney’s end. As for a hat, I have got aspare hood and cloak in my luggage.”

That’s how they all came to start,jogging off from the inn one fine morningjust before May, on laden ponies; andBilbo was wearing a dark-green hood (alittle weather-stained) and a dark-greencloak borrowed from Dwalin. They weretoo large for him, and he looked rathercomic. What his father Bungo would have

thought of him, I daren’t think. His onlycomfort was he couldn’t be mistaken for adwarf, as he had no beard.

They had not been riding very long,when up came Gandalf very splendid on awhite horse. He had brought a lot ofpocket-handkerchiefs, and Bilbo’s pipeand tobacco. So after that the party wentalong very merrily, and they told storiesor sang songs as they rode forward allday, except of course when they stoppedfor meals. These didn’t come quite asoften as Bilbo would have liked them, butstill he began to feel that adventures werenot so bad after all.

At first they had passed through hobbit-lands, a wide respectable countryinhabited by decent folk, with good roads,an inn or two, and now and then a dwarf

or a farmer ambling by on business. Thenthey came to lands where people spokestrangely, and sang songs Bilbo had neverheard before. Now they had gone on farinto the Lone-lands, where there were nopeople left, no inns, and the roads grewsteadily worse. Not far ahead were drearyhills, rising higher and higher, dark withtrees. On some of them were old castleswith an evil look, as if they had been builtby wicked people. Everything seemedgloomy, for the weather that day had takena nasty turn. Mostly it had been as good asMay can be, can be, even in merry tales,but now it was cold and wet. In the Lone-lands they had been obliged to camp whenthey could, but at least it had been dry.

“To think it will soon be June!”grumbled Bilbo, as he splashed along

behind the others in a very muddy track. Itwas after tea-time; it was pouring withrain, and had been all day; his hood wasdripping into his eyes, his cloak was fullof water; the pony was tired and stumbledon stones; the others were too grumpy totalk. “And I’m sure the rain has got intothe dry clothes and into the food-bags,”thought Bilbo. “Bother burgling andeverything to do with it! I wish I was athome in my nice hole by the fire, with thekettle just beginning to sing!” It was notthe last time that he wished that!

Still the dwarves jogged on, neverturning round or taking any notice of thehobbit. Somewhere behind the grey cloudsthe sun must have gone down, for it beganto get dark as they went down into a deepvalley with a river at the bottom. Wind got

up, and willows along its banks bent andsighed. Fortunately the road went over anancient stone bridge, for the river, swollenwith the rains, came rushing down fromthe hills and mountains in the north.

It was nearly night when they hadcrossed over. The wind broke up the greyclouds, and a wandering moon appearedabove the hills between the flying rags.Then they stopped, and Thorin mutteredsomething about supper, “and where shallwe get a dry patch to sleep on?” Not untilthen did they notice that Gandalf wasmissing. So far he had come all the waywith them, never saying if he was in theadventure or merely keeping themcompany for a while. He had eaten most,talked most, and laughed most. But now hesimply was not there at all!

“Just when a wizard would havebeen most useful, too,” groaned Dori andNori (who shared the hobbit’s viewsabout regular meals, plenty and often).

They decided in the end that they wouldhave to camp where they were. Theymoved to a clump of trees, and though itwas drier under them, the wind shook therain off the leaves, and the drip, drip, wasmost annoying. Also the mischief seemedto have got into the fire. Dwarves canmake a fire almost anywhere out of almostanything, wind or no wind; but they couldnot do it that night, not even Oin andGloin, who were specially good at it.

Then one of the ponies took fright atnothing and bolted. He got into the riverbefore they could catch him; and beforethey could get him out again, Fili and Kili

were nearly drowned, and all the baggagethat he carried was washed away off him.Of course it was mostly food, and therewas mighty little left for supper, and lessfor breakfast.

There they all sat glum and wet andmuttering, while Oin and Gloin went ontrying to light the fire, and quarrellingabout it. Bilbo was sadly reflecting thatadventures are not all pony-rides in May-sunshine, when Balin, who was alwaystheir look-out man, said: “There’s a lightover there!” There was a hill some wayoff with trees on it, pretty thick in parts.Out of the dark mass of the trees theycould now see a light shining, a reddishcomfortable-looking light, as it might be afire or torches twinkling.

When they had looked at it for some

while, they fell to arguing. Some said “no”and some said “yes”. Some said theycould but go and see, and anything wasbetter than little supper, less breakfast,and wet clothes all the night.

Others said: “These parts are none toowell known, and are too near themountains. Travellers seldom come thisway now. The old maps are no use: thingshave changed for the worse and the roadis unguarded. They have seldom evenheard of the king round here, and the lessinquisitive you are as you go along, theless trouble you are likely to find.” Somesaid: “After all there are fourteen of us.”Others said: “Where has Gandalf got to?”This remark was repeated by everybody.Then the rain began to pour down worsethan ever, and Oin and Gloin began to

fight.That settled it. “After all we have got a

burglar with us,” they said; and so theymade off, leading their ponies (with alldue and proper caution) in the direction ofthe light. They came to the hill and weresoon in the wood. Up the hill they went;but there was no proper path to be seen,such as might lead to a house or a farm;and do what they could they made a dealof rustling and crackling and creaking (anda good deal of grumbling and dratting), asthey went through the trees in the pitchdark.

Suddenly the red light shone out verybright through the tree-trunks not farahead.

“Now it is the burglar’s turn,” theysaid, meaning Bilbo. “You must go on and

find out all about that light, and what it isfor, and if all is perfectly safe and canny,”said Thorin to the hobbit. “Now scuttleoff, and come back quick, if all is well. Ifnot, come back if you can! If you can’t,hoot twice like a barn-owl and once like ascreech-owl, and we will do what wecan.”

Off Bilbo had to go, before he couldexplain that he could not hoot even oncelike any kind of owl any more than fly likea bat. But at any rate hobbits can movequietly in woods, absolutely quietly. Theytake a pride in it, and Bilbo had sniffedmore than once at what he called “all thisdwarvish racket,” as they went along,though I don’t suppose you or I wouldhave noticed anything at all on a windynight, not if the whole cavalcade had

passed two feet off. As for Bilbo walkingprimly towards the red light, I don’tsuppose even a weasel would have stirreda whisker at it. So, naturally, he got rightup to the fire—for fire it was—withoutdisturbing anyone. And this is what hesaw.

Three very large persons sitting round avery large fire of beech-logs. They weretoasting mutton on long spits of wood, andlicking the gravy off their fingers. Therewas a fine toothsome smell. Also therewas a barrel of good drink at hand, andthey were drinking out of jugs. But theywere trolls. Obviously trolls. Even Bilbo,in spite of his sheltered life, could seethat: from the great heavy faces of them,and their size, and the shape of their legs,not to mention their language, which was

not drawing-room fashion at all, at all.“Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and

blimey, if it don’t look like mutton againtomorrer,” said one of the trolls.

“Never a blinking bit of manflesh havewe had for long enough,” said a second.“What the ’ell William was a-thinkin’ ofto bring us into these parts at all, beats me—and the drink runnin’ short, what’smore,” he said jogging the elbow ofWilliam, who was taking a pull at his jug.

William choked. “Shut yer mouth!” hesaid as soon as he could. “Yer can’texpect folk to stop here for ever just to beet by you and Bert. You’ve et a villageand a half between yer, since we comedown from the mountains. How muchmore d’yer want? And time’s been up ourway, when yer’d have said ‘thank yer

Bill’ for a nice bit o’ fat valley muttonlike what this is.” He took a big bite off asheep’s leg he was roasting, and wipedhis lips on his sleeve.

Yes, I am afraid trolls do behave likethat, even those with only one head each.After hearing all this Bilbo ought to havedone something at once. Either he shouldhave gone back quietly and warned hisfriends that there were three fair-sizedtrolls at hand in a nasty mood, quite likelyto try roasted dwarf, or even pony, for achange; or else he should have done a bitof good quick burgling. A really first-class and legendary burglar would at thispoint have picked the trolls’ pockets—itis nearly always worth while, if you canmanage it—, pinched the very mutton offthe spits, purloined the beer, and walked

off without their noticing him. Others morepractical but with less professional pridewould perhaps have stuck a dagger intoeach of them before they observed it. Thenthe night could have been spent cheerily.

Bilbo knew it. He had read of a goodmany things he had never seen or done. Hewas very much alarmed, as well asdisgusted; he wished himself a hundredmiles away, and yet—and yet somehow hecould not go straight back to Thorin andCompany emptyhanded. So he stood andhesitated in the shadows. Of the variousburglarious proceedings he had heard ofpicking the trolls’ pockets seemed theleast difficult, so at last he crept behind atree just behind William.

Bert and Tom went off to the barrel.William was having another drink. Then

Bilbo plucked up courage and put his littlehand in William’s enormous pocket. Therewas a purse in it, as big as a bag to Bilbo.“Ha!” thought he, warming to his newwork as he lifted it carefully out, “this is abeginning!”

It was! Trolls’ purses are the mischief,and this was no exception. “’Ere, ’oo areyou?” it squeaked, as it left the pocket;and William turned round at once andgrabbed Bilbo by the neck, before hecould duck behind the tree.

“Blimey, Bert, look what I’ve copped!”said William.

“What is it?” said the others coming up.“Lumme, if I knows! What are yer?”

“Bilbo Baggins, a bur—a hobbit,” saidpoor Bilbo, shaking all over, andwondering how to make owl-noises

before they throttled him.“A burrahobbit?” said they a bit

startled. Trolls are slow in the uptake, andmighty suspicious about anything new tothem.

“What’s a burrahobbit got to do withmy pocket, anyways?” said William.

“And can yer cook ’em?” said Tom.“Yer can try,” said Bert, picking up a

skewer.“He wouldn’t make above a mouthful,”

said William, who had already had a finesupper, “not when he was skinned andboned.”

“P’raps there are more like him roundabout, and we might make a pie,” saidBert. “Here you, are there any more ofyour sort a-sneakin’ in these here woods,yer nassty little rabbit,” said he looking at

the hobbit’s furry feet; and he picked himup by the toes and shook him.

“Yes, lots,” said Bilbo, before heremembered not to give his friends away.“No none at all, not one,” he saidimmediately afterwards.

“What d’yer mean?” said Bert, holdinghim right way up, by the hair this time.

“What I say,” said Bilbo gasping. “Andplease don’t cook me, kind sirs! I am agood cook myself, and cook better than Icook, if you see what I mean. I’ll cookbeautifully for you, a perfectly beautifulbreakfast for you, if only you won’t haveme for supper.”

“Poor little blighter,” said William. Hehad already had as much supper as hecould hold; also he had had lots of beer.“Poor little blighter! Let him go!”

“Not till he says what he means by lotsand none at all,” said Bert. “I don’t wantto have me throat cut in me sleep! Holdhis toes in the fire, till he talks!”

“I won’t have it,” said William. “Icaught him anyway.”

“You’re a fat fool, William,” said Bert,“as I’ve said afore this evening.”

“And you’re a lout!”“And I won’t take that from you, Bill

Huggins,” says Bert, and puts his fist inWilliam’s eye.

Then there was a gorgeous row. Bilbohad just enough wits left, when Bertdropped him on the ground, to scrambleout of the way of their feet, before theywere fighting like dogs, and calling oneanother all sorts of perfectly true andapplicable names in very loud voices.

Soon they were locked in one another’sarms, and rolling nearly into the firekicking and thumping, while Tomwhacked at them both with a branch tobring them to their senses—and that ofcourse only made them madder than ever.

That would have been the time forBilbo to have left. But his poor little feethad been very squashed in Bert’s big paw,and he had no breath in his body, and hishead was going round; so there he lay fora while panting, just outside the circle offirelight.

Right in the middle of the fight up cameBalin. The dwarves had heard noises froma distance, and after waiting for some timefor Bilbo to come back, or to hoot like anowl, they started off one by one to creeptowards the light as quietly as they could.

No sooner did Tom see Balin come intothe light than he gave an awful howl.Trolls simply detest the very sight ofdwarves (uncooked). Bert and Billstopped fighting immediately, and “a sack,Tom, quick!” they said. Before Balin, whowas wondering where in all thiscommotion Bilbo was, knew what washappening, a sack was over his head, andhe was down.

“There’s more to come yet,” said Tom,“or I’m mighty mistook. Lots and none atall, it is,” said he. “No burrahobbits, butlots of these here dwarves. That’s aboutthe shape of it!”

“I reckon you’re right,” said Bert, “andwe’d best get out of the light.”

And so they did. With sacks in theirhands, that they used for carrying off

mutton and other plunder, they waited inthe shadows. As each dwarf came up andlooked at the fire, and the spilled jugs, andthe gnawed mutton, in surprise, pop! wenta nasty smelly sack over his head, and hewas down. Soon Dwalin lay by Balin, andFili and Kili together, and Dori and Noriand Ori all in a heap, and Oin and Gloinand Bifur and Bofur and Bombur pileduncomfortably near the fire.

“That’ll teach ’em,” said Tom; for Bifurand Bombur had given a lot of trouble,and fought like mad, as dwarves willwhen cornered.

Thorin came last—and he was notcaught unawares. He came expectingmischief, and didn’t need to see hisfriends’ legs sticking out of sacks to tellhim that things were not all well. He stood

outside in the shadows some way off, andsaid: “What’s all this trouble? Who hasbeen knocking my people about?”

“It’s trolls!” said Bilbo from behind atree. They had forgotten all about him.“They’re hiding in the bushes with sacks,”said he.

“O! are they?” said Thorin, and hejumped forward to the fire, before theycould leap on him. He caught up a bigbranch all on fire at one end; and Bert gotthat end in his eye before he could stepaside. That put him out of the battle for abit. Bilbo did his best. He caught hold ofTom’s leg—as well as he could, it wasthick as a young tree-trunk—but he wassent spinning up into the top of somebushes, when Tom kicked the sparks up inThorin’s face.

The Trolls

Tom got the branch in his teeth for that,and lost one of the front ones. It made himhowl, I can tell you. But just at thatmoment William came up behind andpopped a sack right over Thorin’s headand down to his toes. And so the fightended. A nice pickle they were all in now:all neatly tied up in sacks, with threeangry trolls (and two with burns andbashes to remember) sitting by them,arguing whether they should roast themslowly, or mince them fine and boil them,or just sit on them one by one and squashthem into jelly; and Bilbo up in a bush,with his clothes and his skin torn, notdaring to move for fear they should hear

him.

It was just then that Gandalf came back.But no one saw him. The trolls had justdecided to roast the dwarves now and eatthem later—that was Bert’s idea, and aftera lot of argument they had all agreed to it.

“No good roasting ’em now, it’d takeall night,” said a voice. Bert thought itwas William’s.

“Don’t start the argument all over again,Bill,” he said, “or it will take all night.”

“Who’s a-arguing?” said William, whothought it was Bert that had spoken.

“You are,” said Bert.“You’re a liar,” said William; and so

the argument began all over again. In the

end they decided to mince them fine andboil them. So they got a great black pot,and they took out their knives.

“No good boiling ’em! We ain’t got nowater, and it’s a long way to the well andall,” said a voice. Bert and Williamthought it was Tom’s.

“Shut up!” said they, “or we’ll neverhave done. And yer can fetch the wateryerself, if yer say any more.”

“Shut up yerself!” said Tom, whothought it was William’s voice. “Who’sarguing but you, I’d like to know.”

“You’re a booby,” said William.“Booby yerself!” said Tom.And so the argument began all over

again, and went on hotter than ever, untilat last they decided to sit on the sacks oneby one and squash them, and boil them

next time.“Who shall we sit on first?” said the

voice.“Better sit on the last fellow first,” said

Bert, whose eye had been damaged byThorin. He thought Tom was talking.

“Don’t talk to yerself!” said Tom. “Butif you wants to sit on the last one, sit onhim. Which is he?”

“The one with the yellow stockings,”said Bert.

“Nonsense, the one with the greystockings,” said a voice like William’s.

“I made sure it was yellow,” said Bert.“Yellow it was,” said William.“Then what did yer say it was grey

for?” said Bert.“I never did. Tom said it.”“That I never did!” said Tom. “It was

you.”“Two to one, so shut yer mouth!” said

Bert.“Who are you a-talkin’ to?” said

William.“Now stop it!” said Tom and Bert

together. “The night’s gettin’ on, and dawncomes early. Let’s get on with it!”

“Dawn take you all, and be stone toyou!” said a voice that sounded likeWilliam’s. But it wasn’t. For just at thatmoment the light came over the hill, andthere was a mighty twitter in the branches.William never spoke for he stood turnedto stone as he stooped; and Bert and Tomwere stuck like rocks as they looked athim. And there they stand to this day, allalone, unless the birds perch on them; fortrolls, as you probably know, must be

underground before dawn, or they go backto the stuff of the mountains they are madeof, and never move again. That is whathad happened to Bert and Tom andWilliam.

“Excellent!” said Gandalf, as hestepped from behind a tree, and helpedBilbo to climb down out of a thorn-bush.Then Bilbo understood. It was thewizard’s voice that had kept the trollsbickering and quarrelling, until the lightcame and made an end of them.

The next thing was to untie the sacksand let out the dwarves. They were nearlysuffocated, and very annoyed: they had notat all enjoyed lying there listening to thetrolls making plans for roasting them andsquashing them and mincing them. Theyhad to hear Bilbo’s account of what had

happened to him twice over, before theywere satisfied.

“Silly time to go practising pinchingand pocket-picking,” said Bombur, “whenwhat we wanted was fire and food!”

“And that’s just what you wouldn’thave got of those fellows without astruggle, in any case,” said Gandalf.“Anyhow you are wasting time now.Don’t you realize that the trolls must havea cave or a hole dug somewhere near tohide from the sun in? We must look intoit!”

They searched about, and soon foundthe marks of trolls’ stony boots goingaway through the trees. They followed thetracks up the hill, until hidden by bushesthey came on a big door of stone leadingto a cave. But they could not open it, not

though they all pushed while Gandalf triedvarious incantations.

“Would this be any good?” askedBilbo, when they were getting tired andangry. “I found it on the ground where thetrolls had their fight.” He held out alargish key, though no doubt William hadthought it very small and secret. It musthave fallen out of his pocket, very luckily,before he was turned to stone.

“Why on earth didn’t you mention itbefore?” they cried. Gandalf grabbed itand fitted it into the keyhole. Then thestone door swung back with one big push,and they all went inside. There werebones on the floor and a nasty smell wasin the air; but there was a good deal offood jumbled carelessly on shelves and onthe ground, among an untidy litter of

plunder, of all sorts from brass buttons topots full of gold coins standing in acorner. There were lots of clothes, too,hanging on the walls—too small for trolls,I am afraid they belonged to victims—andamong them were several swords ofvarious makes, shapes, and sizes. Twocaught their eyes particularly, because oftheir beautiful scabbards and jewelledhilts.

Gandalf and Thorin each took one ofthese; and Bilbo took a knife in a leathersheath. It would have made only a tinypocket-knife for a troll, but it was as goodas a short sword for the hobbit.

“These look like good blades,” said thewizard, half drawing them and looking atthem curiously. “They were not made byany troll, nor by any smith among men in

these parts and days; but when we canread the runes on them, we shall knowmore about them.”

“Let’s get out of this horrible smell!”said Fili. So they carried out the pots ofcoins, and such food as was untouchedand looked fit to eat, also one barrel of alewhich was still full. By that time they feltlike breakfast, and being very hungry theydid not turn their noses up at what they hadgot from the trolls’ larder. Their ownprovisions were very scanty. Now theyhad bread and cheese, and plenty of ale,and bacon to toast in the embers of thefire.

After that they slept, for their night hadbeen disturbed; and they did nothing moretill the afternoon. Then they brought uptheir ponies, and carried away the pots of

gold, and buried them very secretly not farfrom the track by the river, putting a greatmany spells over them, just in case theyever had the chance to come back andrecover them. When that was done, theyall mounted once more, and jogged alongagain on the path towards the East.

“Where did you go to, if I may ask?”said Thorin to Gandalf as they rode along.

“To look ahead,” said he.“And what brought you back in the nick

of time?” “Looking behind,” said he.“Exactly!” said Thorin; “but could you

be more plain?”“I went on to spy out our road. It will

soon become dangerous and difficult.Also I was anxious about replenishing oursmall stock of provisions. I had not gonevery far, however, when I met a couple of

friends of mine from Rivendell.”“Where’s that?” asked Bilbo.“Don’t interrupt!” said Gandalf. “You

will get there in a few days now, if we’relucky, and find out all about it. As I wassaying I met two of Elrond’s people. Theywere hurrying along for fear of the trolls.It was they who told me that three of themhad come down from the mountains andsettled in the woods not far from the road:they had frightened everyone away fromthe district, and they waylaid strangers.

“I immediately had a feeling that I waswanted back. Looking behind I saw a firein the distance and made for it. So nowyou know. Please be more careful, nexttime, or we shall never get anywhere!”

“Thank you!” said Thorin.

Chapter III

A SHORT REST

They did not sing or tell stories that day,even though the weather improved; nor thenext day, nor the day after. They had begunto feel that danger was not far away oneither side. They camped under the stars,and their horses had more to eat than theyhad; for there was plenty of grass, butthere was not much in their bags, evenwith what they had got from the trolls. Onemorning they forded a river at a wideshallow place full of the noise of stonesand foam. The far bank was steep and

slippery. When they got to the top of it,leading their ponies, they saw that thegreat mountains had marched down verynear to them. Already they seemed only aday’s easy journey from the feet of thenearest. Dark and drear it looked, thoughthere were patches of sunlight on itsbrown sides, and behind its shoulders thetips of snow-peaks gleamed.

“Is that The Mountain?” asked Bilbo ina solemn voice, looking at it with roundeyes. He had never seen a thing thatlooked so big before.

“Of course not!” said Balin. “That isonly the beginning of the Misty Mountains,and we have got to get through, or over, orunder those somehow, before we cancome into Wilderland beyond. And it is adeal of a way even from the other side of

them to the Lonely Mountain in the Eastwhere Smaug lies on our treasure.”

“O!” said Bilbo, and just at that momenthe felt more tired than he everremembered feeling before. He wasthinking once again of his comfortablechair before the fire in his favouritesitting-room in his hobbit-hole, and of thekettle singing. Not for the last time!

Now Gandalf led the way. “We must notmiss the road, or we shall be done for,” hesaid. “We need food, for one thing, andrest in reasonable safety—also it is verynecessary to tackle the Misty Mountainsby the proper path, or else you will getlost in them, and have to come back and

start at the beginning again (if you ever getback at all).”

They asked him where he was makingfor, and he answered: “You are come tothe very edge of the Wild, as some of youmay know. Hidden somewhere ahead ofus is the fair valley of Rivendell whereElrond lives in the Last Homely House. Isent a message by my friends, and we areexpected.”

That sounded nice and comforting, butthey had not got there yet, and it was notso easy as it sounds to find the LastHomely House west of the Mountains.There seemed to be no trees and novalleys and no hills to break the ground infront of them, only one vast slope goingslowly up and up to meet the feet of thenearest mountain, a wide land the colour

of heather and crumbling rock, withpatches and slashes of grass-green andmoss-green showing where water mightbe.

Morning passed, afternoon came; but inall the silent waste there was no sign ofany dwelling. They were growing anxious,for they saw now that the house might behidden almost anywhere between themand the mountains. They came onunexpected valleys, narrow with steepsides, that opened suddenly at their feet,and they looked down surprised to seetrees below them and running water at thebottom. There were gullies that they couldalmost leap over, but very deep withwaterfalls in them. There were darkravines that one could neither jump overnor climb into. There were bogs, some of

them green pleasant places to look at, withflowers growing bright and tall; but apony that walked there with a pack on itsback would never have come out again.

It was indeed a much wider land fromthe ford to the mountains than ever youwould have guessed. Bilbo wasastonished. The only path was markedwith white stones, some of which weresmall, and others were half covered withmoss or heather. Altogether it was a veryslow business following the track, evenguided by Gandalf, who seemed to knowhis way about pretty well.

His head and beard wagged this wayand that as he looked for the stones, andthey followed his lead, but they seemed nonearer to the end of the search when theday began to fail. Tea-time had long gone

by, and it seemed supper-time would soondo the same. There were moths flutteringabout, and the light became very dim, forthe moon had not risen. Bilbo’s ponybegan to stumble over roots and stones.They came to the edge of a steep fall in theground so suddenly that Gandalf’s horsenearly slipped down the slope.

“Here it is at last!” he called, and theothers gathered round him and lookedover the edge. They saw a valley farbelow. They could hear the voice ofhurrying water in a rocky bed at thebottom; the scent of trees was in the air;and there was a light on the valley-sideacross the water.

Bilbo never forgot the way theyslithered and slipped in the dusk down thesteep zig-zag path into the secret valley of

Rivendell. The air grew warmer as theygot lower, and the smell of the pine-treesmade him drowsy, so that every now andagain he nodded and nearly fell off, orbumped his nose on the pony’s neck. Theirspirits rose as they went down and down.The trees changed to beech and oak, andthere was a comfortable feeling in thetwilight. The last green had almost fadedout of the grass, when they came at lengthto an open glade not far above the banksof the stream.

“Hmmm! it smells like elves!” thoughtBilbo, and he looked up at the stars. Theywere burning bright and blue. Just thenthere came a burst of song like laughter inthe trees:

O! What are you doing,And where are you going?Your ponies need shoeing!The river is flowing! O! tra-la-la-lally here down in the valley!

O! What are you seeking,And where are you making?The faggots are reeking,The bannocks are baking! O! tril-lil-lil-lolly the valley is jolly, ha! ha!

O! Where are you goingWith beards all a-wagging?

No knowing, no knowingWhat brings Mister Baggins And Balin and Dwalin down into the valley in June ha! ha!

O! Will you be staying,Or will you be flying?Your ponies are straying!The daylight is dying!To fly would be folly,To stay would be jolly And listen and hark Till the end of the dark to our tune ha! ha!

So they laughed and sang in the trees;and pretty fair nonsense I daresay youthink it. Not that they would care; theywould only laugh all the more if you toldthem so. They were elves of course. SoonBilbo caught glimpses of them as thedarkness deepened. He loved elves,though he seldom met them; but he was alittle frightened of them too. Dwarvesdon’t get on well with them. Even decentenough dwarves like Thorin and hisfriends think them foolish (which is a veryfoolish thing to think), or get annoyed withthem. For some elves tease them and laughat them, and most of all at their beards.

“Well, well!” said a voice. “Just look!Bilbo the hobbit on a pony, my dear! Isn’tit delicious!”

“Most astonishing wonderful!”

Then off they went into another song asridiculous as the one I have written downin full. At last one, a tall young fellow,came out from the trees and bowed toGandalf and to Thorin.

“Welcome to the valley!” he said.“Thank you!” said Thorin a bit gruffly;

but Gandalf was already off his horse andamong the elves, talking merrily withthem.

“You are a little out of your way,” saidthe elf: “that is, if you are making for theonly path across the water and to thehouse beyond. We will set you right, butyou had best get on foot, until you are overthe bridge. Are you going to stay a bit andsing with us, or will you go straight on?Supper is preparing over there,” he said.“I can smell the wood-fires for the

cooking.”Tired as he was, Bilbo would have

liked to stay a while. Elvish singing is nota thing to miss, in June under the stars, notif you care for such things. Also he wouldhave liked to have a few private wordswith these people that seemed to know hisnames and all about him, although he hadnever seen them before. He thought theiropinion of his adventure might beinteresting. Elves know a lot and arewondrous folk for news, and know what isgoing on among the peoples of the land, asquick as water flows, or quicker.

But the dwarves were all for supper assoon as possible just then, and would notstay. On they all went, leading theirponies, till they were brought to a goodpath and so at last to the very brink of the

river. It was flowing fast and noisily, asmountain-streams do of a summer evening,when sun has been all day on the snow farup above. There was only a narrow bridgeof stone without a parapet, as narrow as apony could well walk on; and over thatthey had to go, slow and careful, one byone, each leading his pony by the bridle.The elves had brought bright lanterns tothe shore, and they sang a merry song asthe party went across.

“Don’t dip your beard in the foam,father!” they cried to Thorin, who wasbent almost on to his hands and knees. “Itis long enough without watering it.”

“Mind Bilbo doesn’t eat all the cakes!”they called. “He is too fat to get throughkey-holes yet!”

“Hush, hush! Good People! and good

night!” said Gandalf, who came last.“Valleys have ears, and some elves haveover merry tongues. Good night!”

And so at last they all came to the LastHomely House, and found its doors flungwide.

Now it is a strange thing, but thingsthat are good to have and days that aregood to spend are soon told about, and notmuch to listen to; while things that areuncomfortable, palpitating, and evengruesome, may make a good tale, and takea deal of telling anyway. They stayed longin that good house, fourteen days at least,and they found it hard to leave. Bilbowould gladly have stopped there for ever

and ever—even supposing a wish wouldhave taken him right back to his hobbit-hole without trouble. Yet there is little totell about their stay.

The master of the house was an elf-friend—one of those people whose fatherscame into the strange stories before thebeginning of History, the wars of the evilgoblins and the elves and the first men inthe North. In those days of our tale therewere still some people who had bothelves and heroes of the North forancestors, and Elrond the master of thehouse was their chief.

He was as noble and as fair in face asan elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wiseas a wizard, as venerable as a king ofdwarves, and as kind as summer. Hecomes into many tales, but his part in the

story of Bilbo’s great adventure is only asmall one, though important, as you willsee, if we ever get to the end of it. Hishouse was perfect, whether you likedfood, or sleep, or work, or story-telling,or singing, or just sitting and thinking best,or a pleasant mixture of them all. Evilthings did not come into that valley.

I wish I had time to tell you even a fewof the tales or one or two of the songs thatthey heard in that house. All of them, theponies as well, grew refreshed and strongin a few days there. Their clothes weremended as well as their bruises, theirtempers and their hopes. Their bags werefilled with food and provisions light tocarry but strong to bring them over themountain passes. Their plans wereimproved with the best advice. So the

time came to midsummer eve, and theywere to go on again with the early sun onmidsummer morning.

Elrond knew all about runes of everykind. That day he looked at the swordsthey had brought from the trolls’ lair, andhe said: “These are not troll-make. Theyare old swords, very old swords of theHigh Elves of the West, my kin. Theywere made in Gondolin for the Goblin-wars. They must have come from adragon’s hoard or goblin plunder, fordragons and goblins destroyed that citymany ages ago. This, Thorin, the runesname Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver in theancient tongue of Gondolin; it was afamous blade. This, Gandalf, wasGlamdring, Foe-hammer that the king ofGondolin once wore. Keep them well!”

“Whence did the trolls get them, Iwonder?” said Thorin looking at hissword with new interest.

“I could not say,” said Elrond, “but onemay guess that your trolls had plunderedother plunderers, or come on the remnantsof old robberies in some hold in themountains. I have heard that there are stillforgotten treasures of old to be found inthe deserted caverns of the mines ofMoria, since the dwarf and goblin war.”

Thorin pondered these words. “I willkeep this sword in honour,” he said. “Mayit soon cleave goblins once again!”

“A wish that is likely to be grantedsoon enough in the mountains!” saidElrond. “But show me now your map!”

He took it and gazed long at it, and heshook his head; for if he did not altogether

approve of dwarves and their love ofgold, he hated dragons and their cruelwickedness, and he grieved to rememberthe ruin of the town of Dale and its merrybells, and the burned banks of the brightRiver Running. The moon was shining in abroad silver crescent. He held up the mapand the white light shone through it. “Whatis this?” he said. “There are moon-lettershere, beside the plain runes which say‘five feet high the door and three maywalk abreast.’”

“What are moon-letters?” asked thehobbit full of excitement. He loved maps,as I have told you before; and he alsoliked runes and letters and cunninghandwriting, though when he wrotehimself it was a bit thin and spidery.

“Moon-letters are rune-letters, but you

cannot see them,” said Elrond, “not whenyou look straight at them. They can only beseen when the moon shines behind them,and what is more, with the more cunningsort it must be a moon of the same shapeand season as the day when they werewritten. The dwarves invented them andwrote them with silver pens, as yourfriends could tell you. These must havebeen written on a midsummer’s eve in acrescent moon, a long while ago.”

“What do they say?” asked Gandalf andThorin together, a bit vexed perhaps thateven Elrond should have found this outfirst, though really there had not been achance before, and there would not havebeen another until goodness knows when.

“Stand by the grey stone when thethrush knocks,” read Elrond, “and the

setting sun with the last light of Durin’sDay will shine upon the key-hole.”

“Durin, Durin!” said Thorin. “He wasthe father of the fathers of the eldest raceof Dwarves, the Longbeards, and my firstancestor: I am his heir.”

“Then what is Durin’s Day?” askedElrond.

“The first day of the dwarves’ NewYear,” said Thorin, “is as all should knowthe first day of the last moon of Autumn onthe threshold of Winter. We still call itDurin’s Day when the last moon ofAutumn and the sun are in the sky together.But this will not help us much, I fear, for itpasses our skill in these days to guesswhen such a time will come again.”

“That remains to be seen,” saidGandalf. “Is there any more writing?”

“None to be seen by this moon,” saidElrond, and he gave the map back toThorin; and then they went down to thewater to see the elves dance and sing uponthe midsummer’s eve.

The next morning was a midsummer’smorning as fair and fresh as could bedreamed: blue sky and never a cloud, andthe sun dancing on the water. Now theyrode away amid songs of farewell andgood speed, with their hearts ready formore adventure, and with a knowledge ofthe road they must follow over the MistyMountains to the land beyond.

Chapter IV

OVER HILL AND UNDERHILL

There were many paths that led up intothose mountains, and many passes overthem. But most of the paths were cheatsand deceptions and led nowhere or to badends; and most of the passes were infestedby evil things and dreadful dangers. Thedwarves and the hobbit, helped by thewise advice of Elrond and the knowledgeand memory of Gandalf, took the rightroad to the right pass.

Long days after they had climbed out of

the valley and left the Last Homely Housemiles behind, they were still going up andup and up. It was a hard path and adangerous path, a crooked way and alonely and a long. Now they could lookback over the lands they had left, laid outbehind them far below. Far, far away inthe West, where things were blue andfaint, Bilbo knew there lay his owncountry of safe and comfortable things,and his little hobbit-hole. He shivered. Itwas getting bitter cold up here, and thewind came shrill among the rocks.Boulders, too, at times came gallopingdown the mountain-sides, let loose bymid-day sun upon the snow, and passedamong them (which was lucky), or overtheir heads (which was alarming). Thenights were comfortless and chill, and

they did not dare to sing or talk too loud,for the echoes were uncanny, and thesilence seemed to dislike being broken—except by the noise of water and the wailof wind and the crack of stone.

“The summer is getting on downbelow,” thought Bilbo, “and haymaking isgoing on and picnics. They will beharvesting and blackberrying, before weeven begin to go down the other side atthis rate.” And the others were thinkingequally gloomy thoughts, although whenthey had said good-bye to Elrond in thehigh hope of a midsummer morning, theyhad spoken gaily of the passage of themountains, and of riding swift across thelands beyond. They had thought of comingto the secret door in the Lonely Mountain,perhaps that very next last moon of

Autumn—“and perhaps it will be Durin’sDay” they had said. Only Gandalf hadshaken his head and said nothing.Dwarves had not passed that way formany years, but Gandalf had, and he knewhow evil and danger had grown andthriven in the Wild, since the dragons haddriven men from the lands, and the goblinshad spread in secret after the battle of theMines of Moria. Even the good plans ofwise wizards like Gandalf and of goodfriends like Elrond go astray sometimeswhen you are off on dangerous adventuresover the Edge of the Wild; and Gandalfwas a wise enough wizard to know it.

He knew that something unexpected might

happen, and he hardly dared to hope thatthey would pass without fearful adventureover those great tall mountains with lonelypeaks and valleys where no king ruled.They did not. All was well, until one daythey met a thunderstorm—more than athunderstorm, a thunder-battle. You knowhow terrific a really big thunderstorm canbe down in the land and in a river-valley;especially at times when two greatthunderstorms meet and clash. Moreterrible still are thunder and lightning inthe mountains at night, when storms comeup from East and West and make war. Thelightning splinters on the peaks, and rocksshiver, and great crashes split the air andgo rolling and tumbling into every caveand hollow; and the darkness is filled withoverwhelming noise and sudden light.

Bilbo had never seen or imaginedanything of the kind. They were high up ina narrow place, with a dreadful fall into adim valley at one side of them. There theywere sheltering under a hanging rock forthe night, and he lay beneath a blanket andshook from head to toe. When he peepedout in the lightning-flashes, he saw thatacross the valley the stone-giants wereout, and were hurling rocks at one anotherfor a game, and catching them, and tossingthem down into the darkness where theysmashed among the trees far below, orsplintered into little bits with a bang. Thencame a wind and a rain, and the windwhipped the rain and the hail about inevery direction, so that an overhangingrock was no protection at all. Soon theywere getting drenched and their ponies

were standing with their heads down andtheir tails between their legs, and some ofthem were whinnying with fright. Theycould hear the giants guffawing andshouting all over the mountainsides.

“This won’t do at all!” said Thorin. “Ifwe don’t get blown off, or drowned, orstruck by lightning, we shall be picked upby some giant and kicked sky-high for afootball.”

The Mountain-path

“Well, if you know of anywhere better,take us there!” said Gandalf, who wasfeeling very grumpy, and was far fromhappy about the giants himself.

The end of their argument was that theysent Fili and Kili to look for a bettershelter. They had very sharp eyes, andbeing the youngest of the dwarves by somefifty years they usually got these sort ofjobs (when everybody could see that itwas absolutely no use sending Bilbo).There is nothing like looking, if you wantto find something (or so Thorin said to theyoung dwarves). You certainly usuallyfind something, if you look, but it is notalways quite the something you were after.

So it proved on this occasion.Soon Fili and Kili came crawling back,

holding on to the rocks in the wind. “Wehave found a dry cave,” they said, “not farround the next corner; and ponies and allcould get inside.”

“Have you thoroughly explored it?”said the wizard, who knew that caves upin the mountains were seldom unoccupied.

“Yes, yes!” they said, though everybodyknew they could not have been long aboutit; they had come back too quick. “It isn’tall that big, and it does not go far back.”

That, of course, is the dangerous partabout caves: you don’t know how far theygo back, sometimes, or where a passagebehind may lead to, or what is waiting foryou inside. But now Fili and Kili’s newsseemed good enough. So they all got up

and prepared to move. The wind washowling and the thunder still growling,and they had a business getting themselvesand their ponies along. Still it was notvery far to go, and before long they cameto a big rock standing out into the path. Ifyou stepped behind, you found a low archin the side of the mountain. There was justroom to get the ponies through with asqueeze, when they had been unpackedand unsaddled. As they passed under thearch, it was good to hear the wind and therain outside instead of all about them, andto feel safe from the giants and their rocks.But the wizard was taking no risks. He litup his wand—as he did that day inBilbo’s dining-room that seemed so longago, if you remember—, and by its lightthey explored the cave from end to end.

It seemed quite a fair size, but not toolarge and mysterious. It had a dry floorand some comfortable nooks. At one endthere was room for the ponies; and therethey stood (mighty glad of the change)steaming, and champing in their nosebags.Oin and Gloin wanted to light a fire at thedoor to dry their clothes, but Gandalfwould not hear of it. So they spread outtheir wet things on the floor, and got dryones out of their bundles; then they madetheir blankets comfortable, got out theirpipes and blew smoke rings, whichGandalf turned into different colours andset dancing up by the roof to amuse them.They talked and talked, and forgot aboutthe storm, and discussed what each woulddo with his share of the treasure (whenthey got it, which at the moment did not

seem so impossible); and so they droppedoff to sleep one by one. And that was thelast time that they used the ponies,packages, baggages, tools andparaphernalia that they had brought withthem.

It turned out a good thing that night thatthey had brought little Bilbo with them,after all. For, somehow, he could not go tosleep for a long while; and when he didsleep, he had very nasty dreams. Hedreamed that a crack in the wall at theback of the cave got bigger and bigger,and opened wider and wider, and he wasvery afraid but could not call out or doanything but lie and look. Then hedreamed that the floor of the cave wasgiving way, and he was slipping—beginning to fall down, down, goodness

knows where to.At that he woke up with a horrible start,

and found that part of his dream was true.A crack had opened at the back of thecave, and was already a wide passage. Hewas just in time to see the last of theponies’ tails disappearing into it. Ofcourse he gave a very loud yell, as loud ayell as a hobbit can give, which issurprising for their size.

Out jumped the goblins, big goblins,great ugly-looking goblins, lots of goblins,before you could say rocks and blocks.There were six to each dwarf, at least, andtwo even for Bilbo; and they were allgrabbed and carried through the crack,before you could say tinder and flint. Butnot Gandalf. Bilbo’s yell had done thatmuch good. It had wakened him up wide

in a splintered second, and when goblinscame to grab him, there was a terrificflash like lightning in the cave, a smelllike gunpowder, and several of them felldead.

The crack closed with a snap, andBilbo and the dwarves were on the wrongside of it! Where was Gandalf? Of thatneither they nor the goblins had any idea,and the goblins did not wait to find out.They seized Bilbo and the dwarves andhurried them along. It was deep, deep,dark, such as only goblins that have takento living in the heart of the mountains cansee through. The passages there werecrossed and tangled in all directions, butthe goblins knew their way, as well as youdo to the nearest post-office; and the waywent down and down, and it was most

horribly stuffy. The goblins were veryrough, and pinched unmercifully, andchuckled and laughed in their horriblestony voices; and Bilbo was moreunhappy even than when the troll hadpicked him up by his toes. He wishedagain and again for his nice bright hobbit-hole. Not for the last time.

Now there came a glimmer of a redlight before them. The goblins began tosing, or croak, keeping time with the flapof their flat feet on the stone, and shakingtheir prisoners as well.

Clap! Snap! the black crack!Grip, grab! Pinch, nab!And down down to Goblin-town You go, my lad!

Clash, crash! Crush, smash!Hammer and tongs! Knocker andgongs! Pound, pound, farunderground! Ho, ho! my lad!

Swish, smack! Whip crack!Batter and beat! Yammer and bleat!Work, work! Nor dare to shirk,While Goblins quaff, and Goblinslaugh, Round and round farunderground Below, my lad!

It sounded truly terrifying. The wallsechoed to the clap, snap! and the crush,smash! and to the ugly laughter of their ho,

ho! my lad! The general meaning of thesong was only too plain; for now thegoblins took out whips and whipped themwith a swish, smack!, and set them runningas fast as they could in front of them; andmore than one of the dwarves werealready yammering and bleating likeanything, when they stumbled into a bigcavern.

It was lit by a great red fire in themiddle, and by torches along the walls,and it was full of goblins. They alllaughed and stamped and clapped theirhands, when the dwarves (with poor littleBilbo at the back and nearest to the whips)came running in, while the goblin-driverswhooped and cracked their whips behind.The ponies were already there huddled ina corner; and there were all the baggages

and packages lying broken open, andbeing rummaged by goblins, and smelt bygoblins, and fingered by goblins, andquarrelled over by goblins.

I am afraid that was the last they eversaw of those excellent little ponies,including a jolly sturdy little white fellowthat Elrond had lent to Gandalf, since hishorse was not suitable for the mountain-paths. For goblins eat horses and poniesand donkeys (and other much moredreadful things), and they are alwayshungry. Just now however the prisonerswere thinking only of themselves. Thegoblins chained their hands behind theirbacks and linked them all together in aline, and dragged them to the far end of thecavern with little Bilbo tugging at the endof the row.

There in the shadows on a large flatstone sat a tremendous goblin with a hugehead, and armed goblins were standinground him carrying the axes and the bentswords that they use. Now goblins arecruel, wicked, and bad-hearted. Theymake no beautiful things, but they makemany clever ones. They can tunnel andmine as well as any but the most skilleddwarves, when they take the trouble,though they are usually untidy and dirty.Hammers, axes, swords, daggers,pickaxes, tongs, and also instruments oftorture, they make very well, or get otherpeople to make to their design, prisonersand slaves that have to work till they diefor want of air and light. It is not unlikelythat they invented some of the machinesthat have since troubled the world,

especially the ingenious devices forkilling large numbers of people at once,for wheels and engines and explosionsalways delighted them, and also notworking with their own hands more thanthey could help; but in those days andthose wild parts they had not advanced (asit is called) so far. They did not hatedwarves especially, no more than theyhated everybody and everything, andparticularly the orderly and prosperous; insome parts wicked dwarves had evenmade alliances with them. But they had aspecial grudge against Thorin’s people,because of the war which you have heardmentioned, but which does not come intothis tale; and anyway goblins don’t carewho they catch, as long as it is done smartand secret, and the prisoners are not able

to defend themselves.“Who are these miserable persons?”

said the Great Goblin.“Dwarves, and this!” said one of the

drivers, pulling at Bilbo’s chain so that hefell forward onto his knees. “We foundthem sheltering in our Front Porch.”

“What do you mean by it?” said theGreat Goblin turning to Thorin. “Up to nogood, I’ll warrant! Spying on the privatebusiness of my people, I guess! Thieves, Ishouldn’t be surprised to learn! Murderersand friends of Elves, not unlikely! Come!What have you got to say?”

“Thorin the dwarf at your service!” hereplied—it was merely a polite nothing.“Of the things which you suspect andimagine we had no idea at all. Wesheltered from a storm in what seemed a

convenient cave and unused; nothing wasfurther from our thoughts thaninconveniencing goblins in any waywhatever.” That was true enough!

“Um!” said the Great Goblin. “So yousay! Might I ask what you were doing upin the mountains at all, and where youwere coming from, and where you weregoing to? In fact I should like to know allabout you. Not that it will do you muchgood, Thorin Oakenshield, I know toomuch about your folk already; but let’shave the truth, or I will prepare somethingparticularly uncomfortable for you!”

“We were on a journey to visit ourrelatives, our nephews and nieces, andfirst, second, and third cousins, and theother descendants of our grandfathers,who live on the East side of these truly

hospitable mountains,” said Thorin, notquite knowing what to say all at once in amoment, when obviously the exact truthwould not do at all.

“He is a liar, O truly tremendous one!”said one of the drivers. “Several of ourpeople were struck by lightning in thecave, when we invited these creatures tocome below; and they are as dead asstones. Also he has not explained this!”He held out the sword which Thorin hadworn, the sword which came from theTrolls’ lair.

The Great Goblin gave a truly awfulhowl of rage when he looked at it, and allhis soldiers gnashed their teeth, clashedtheir shields, and stamped. They knew thesword at once. It had killed hundreds ofgoblins in its time, when the fair elves of

Gondolin hunted them in the hills or didbattle before their walls. They had calledit Orcrist, Goblin-cleaver, but the goblinscalled it simply Biter. They hated it andhated worse any one that carried it.

“Murderers and elf-friends!” the GreatGoblin shouted. “Slash them! Beat them!Bite them! Gnash them! Take them away todark holes full of snakes, and never letthem see the light again!” He was in sucha rage that he jumped off his seat andhimself rushed at Thorin with his mouthopen.

Just at that moment all the lights in thecavern went out, and the great fire wentoff poof! into a tower of blue glowingsmoke, right up to the roof, that scatteredpiercing white sparks all among thegoblins.

The yells and yammering, croaking,jibbering and jabbering; howls, growlsand curses; shrieking and skriking, thatfollowed were beyond description.Several hundred wild cats and wolvesbeing roasted slowly alive together wouldnot have compared with it. The sparkswere burning holes in the goblins, and thesmoke that now fell from the roof madethe air too thick for even their eyes to seethrough. Soon they were falling over oneanother and rolling in heaps on the floor,biting and kicking and fighting as if theyhad all gone mad.

Suddenly a sword flashed in its ownlight. Bilbo saw it go right through theGreat Goblin as he stood dumbfounded inthe middle of his rage. He fell dead, andthe goblin soldiers fled before the sword

shrieking into the darkness.The sword went back into its sheath.

“Follow me quick!” said a voice fierceand quiet; and before Bilbo understoodwhat had happened he was trotting alongagain, as fast as he could trot, at the end ofthe line, down more dark passages withthe yells of the goblin-hall growing fainterbehind him. A pale light was leading themon.

“Quicker, quicker!” said the voice.“The torches will soon be relit.”

“Half a minute!” said Dori, who was atthe back next to Bilbo, and a decentfellow. He made the hobbit scramble onhis shoulders as best he could with histied hands, and then off they all went at arun, with a clink-clink of chains, and manya stumble, since they had no hands to

steady themselves with. Not for a longwhile did they stop, and by that time theymust have been right down in the verymountain’s heart.

Then Gandalf lit up his wand. Of courseit was Gandalf; but just then they were toobusy to ask how he got there. He took outhis sword again, and again it flashed in thedark by itself. It burned with a rage thatmade it gleam if goblins were about; nowit was bright as blue flame for delight inthe killing of the great lord of the cave. Itmade no trouble whatever of cuttingthrough the goblin-chains and setting allthe prisoners free as quickly as possible.This sword’s name was Glamdring theFoe-hammer, if you remember. Thegoblins just called it Beater, and hated itworse than Biter if possible. Orcrist, too,

had been saved; forGandalf had brought it along as well,

snatching it from one of the terrifiedguards. Gandalf thought of most things;and though he could not do everything, hecould do a great deal for friends in a tightcorner.

“Are we all here?” said he, handing hissword back to Thorin with a bow. “Let mesee: one—that’s Thorin; two, three, four,five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven;where are Fili and Kili? Here they are!twelve, thirteen—and here’s Mr. Baggins:fourteen! Well, well! it might be worse,and then again it might be a good dealbetter. No ponies, and no food, and noknowing quite where we are, and hordesof angry goblins just behind! On we go!”

On they went. Gandalf was quite right:

they began to hear goblin noises andhorrible cries far behind in the passagesthey had come through. That sent them onfaster than ever, and as poor Bilbo couldnot possibly go half as fast—for dwarvescan roll along at a tremendous pace, I cantell you, when they have to—they took itin turn to carry him on their backs.

Still goblins go faster than dwarves,and these goblins knew the way better(they had made the paths themselves), andwere madly angry; so that do what theycould the dwarves heard the cries andhowls getting closer and closer. Soon theycould hear even the flap of the goblin feet,many many feet which seemed only justround the last corner. The blink of redtorches could be seen behind them in thetunnel they were following; and they were

getting deadly tired.“Why, O why did I ever leave my

hobbit-hole!” said poor Mr. Bagginsbumping up and down on Bombur’s back.

“Why, O why did I ever bring awretched little hobbit on a treasure hunt!”said poor Bombur, who was fat, andstaggered along with the sweat drippingdown his nose in his heat and terror.

At this point Gandalf fell behind, andThorin with him. They turned a sharpcorner. “About turn!” he shouted. “Drawyour sword Thorin!”

There was nothing else to be done; andthe goblins did not like it. They camescurrying round the corner in full cry, andfound Goblin-cleaver, and Foe-hammershining cold and bright right in theirastonished eyes. The ones in front

dropped their torches and gave one yellbefore they were killed. The ones behindyelled still more, and leaped backknocking over those that were runningafter them. “Biter and Beater!” theyshrieked; and soon they were all inconfusion, and most of them were hustlingback the way they had come.

It was quite a long while before any ofthem dared to turn that corner. By that timethe dwarves had gone on again, a long,long, way on into the dark tunnels of thegoblins’ realm. When the goblinsdiscovered that, they put out their torchesand they slipped on soft shoes, and theychose out their very quickest runners withthe sharpest ears and eyes. These ranforward, as swift as weasels in the dark,and with hardly any more noise than bats.

That is why neither Bilbo, nor thedwarves, nor even Gandalf heard themcoming. Nor did they see them. But theywere seen by the goblins that ran silentlyup behind, for Gandalf was letting hiswand give out a faint light to help thedwarves as they went along.

Quite suddenly Dori, now at the backagain carrying Bilbo, was grabbed frombehind in the dark. He shouted and fell;and the hobbit rolled off his shoulders intothe blackness, bumped his head on hardrock, and remembered nothing more.

Chapter V

RIDDLES IN THE DARK

When Bilbo opened his eyes, hewondered if he had; for it was just as darkas with them shut. No one was anywherenear him. Just imagine his fright! He couldhear nothing, see nothing, and he couldfeel nothing except the stone of the floor.

Very slowly he got up and groped abouton all fours, till he touched the wall of thetunnel; but neither up nor down it could hefind anything: nothing at all, no sign ofgoblins, no sign of dwarves. His head wasswimming, and he was far from certain

even of the direction they had been goingin when he had his fall. He guessed aswell as he could, and crawled along for agood way, till suddenly his hand met whatfelt like a tiny ring of cold metal lying onthe floor of the tunnel. It was a turningpoint in his career, but he did not know it.He put the ring in his pocket almostwithout thinking; certainly it did not seemof any particular use at the moment. Hedid not go much further, but sat down onthe cold floor and gave himself up tocomplete miserableness, for a long while.He thought of himself frying bacon andeggs in his own kitchen at home—for hecould feel inside that it was high time forsome meal or other; but that only madehim miserabler.

He could not think what to do; nor

could he think what had happened; or whyhe had been left behind; or why, if he hadbeen left behind, the goblins had notcaught him; or even why his head was sosore. The truth was he had been lyingquiet, out of sight and out of mind, in avery dark corner for a long while.

After some time he felt for his pipe. Itwas not broken, and that was something.Then he felt for his pouch, and there wassome tobacco in it, and that was somethingmore. Then he felt for matches and hecould not find any at all, and that shatteredhis hopes completely. Just as well for him,as he agreed when he came to his senses.Goodness knows what the striking ofmatches and the smell of tobacco wouldhave brought on him out of dark holes inthat horrible place. Still at the moment he

felt very crushed. But in slapping all hispockets and feeling all round himself formatches his hand came on the hilt of hislittle sword—the little dagger that he gotfrom the trolls, and that he had quiteforgotten; nor fortunately had the goblinsnoticed it, as he wore it inside hisbreeches.

Now he drew it out. It shone pale anddim before his eyes. “So it is an elvishblade, too,” he thought; “and goblins arenot very near, and yet not far enough.”

But somehow he was comforted. It wasrather splendid to be wearing a blademade in Gondolin for the goblin-wars ofwhich so many songs had sung; and alsohe had noticed that such weapons made agreat impression on goblins that cameupon them suddenly.

“Go back?” he thought. “No good at all!Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward?Only thing to do! On we go!” So up he got,and trotted along with his little sword heldin front of him and one hand feeling thewall, and his heart all of a patter and apitter.

Now certainly Bilbo was in what is calleda tight place. But you must remember itwas not quite so tight for him as it wouldhave been for me or for you. Hobbits arenot quite like ordinary people; and afterall if their holes are nice cheery placesand properly aired, quite different fromthe tunnels of the goblins, still they aremore used to tunnelling than we are, and

they do not easily lose their sense ofdirection underground—not when theirheads have recovered from being bumped.Also they can move very quietly, and hideeasily, and recover wonderfully from fallsand bruises, and they have a fund ofwisdom and wise sayings that men havemostly never heard or have forgotten longago.

I should not have liked to have been inMr. Baggins’ place, all the same. Thetunnel seemed to have no end. All he knewwas that it was still going down prettysteadily and keeping in the same directionin spite of a twist and a turn or two. Therewere passages leading off to the sideevery now and then, as he knew by theglimmer of his sword, or could feel withhis hand on the wall. Of these he took no

notice, except to hurry past for fear ofgoblins or half-imagined dark thingscoming out of them. On and on he went,and down and down; and still he heard nosound of anything except the occasionalwhirr of a bat by his ears, which startledhim at first, till it became too frequent tobother about. I do not know how long hekept on like this, hating to go on, notdaring to stop, on, on, until he was tirederthan tired. It seemed like all the way totomorrow and over it to the days beyond.

Suddenly without any warning hetrotted splash into water! Ugh! it was icycold. That pulled him up sharp and short.He did not know whether it was just apool in the path, or the edge of anunderground stream that crossed thepassage, or the brink of a deep dark

subterranean lake. The sword was hardlyshining at all. He stopped, and he couldhear, when he listened hard, drops drip-drip-dripping from an unseen roof into thewater below; but there seemed no othersort of sound.

“So it is a pool or a lake, and not anunderground river,” he thought. Still hedid not dare to wade out into the darkness.He could not swim; and he thought, too, ofnasty slimy things, with big bulging blindeyes, wriggling in the water. There arestrange things living in the pools and lakesin the hearts of mountains: fish whosefathers swam in, goodness only knowshow many years ago, and never swam outagain, while their eyes grew bigger andbigger and bigger from trying to see in theblackness; also there are other things more

slimy than fish. Even in the tunnels andcaves the goblins have made forthemselves there are other things livingunbeknown to them that have sneaked infrom outside to lie up in the dark. Some ofthese caves, too, go back in theirbeginnings to ages before the goblins, whoonly widened them and joined them upwith passages, and the original owners arestill there in odd corners, slinking andnosing about.

Deep down here by the dark waterlived old Gollum, a small slimy creature. Idon’t know where he came from, nor whoor what he was. He was Gollum—as darkas darkness, except for two big round paleeyes in his thin face. He had a little boat,and he rowed about quite quietly on thelake; for lake it was, wide and deep and

deadly cold. He paddled it with large feetdangling over the side, but never a rippledid he make. Not he. He was looking outof his pale lamp-like eyes for blind fish,which he grabbed with his long fingers asquick as thinking. He liked meat too.Goblin he thought good, when he could getit; but he took care they never found himout. He just throttled them from behind, ifthey ever came down alone anywhere nearthe edge of the water, while he wasprowling about. They very seldom did, forthey had a feeling that somethingunpleasant was lurking down there, downat the very roots of the mountain. They hadcome on the lake, when they weretunnelling down long ago, and they foundthey could go no further; so there theirroad ended in that direction, and there was

no reason to go that way—unless theGreat Goblin sent them. Sometimes hetook a fancy for fish from the lake, andsometimes neither goblin nor fish cameback.

Actually Gollum lived on a slimy islandof rock in the middle of the lake. He waswatching Bilbo now from the distancewith his pale eyes like telescopes. Bilbocould not see him, but he was wondering alot about Bilbo, for he could see that hewas no goblin at all.

Gollum got into his boat and shot offfrom the island, while Bilbo was sittingon the brink altogether flummoxed and atthe end of his way and his wits. Suddenlyup came Gollum and whispered andhissed:

“Bless us and splash us, my

precioussss! I guess it’s a choice feast; atleast a tasty morsel it’d make us, gollum!”And when he said gollum he made ahorrible swallowing noise in his throat.That is how he got his name, though healways called himself ‘my precious’.

The hobbit jumped nearly out of hisskin when the hiss came in his ears, and hesuddenly saw the pale eyes sticking out athim.

“Who are you?” he said, thrusting hisdagger in front of him.

“What iss he, my preciouss?”whispered Gollum (who always spoke tohimself through never having anyone elseto speak to). This is what he had come tofind out, for he was not really very hungryat the moment, only curious; otherwise hewould have grabbed first and whispered

afterwards.“I am Mr. Bilbo Baggins. I have lost the

dwarves and I have lost the wizard, and Idon’t know where I am; and I don’t wantto know, if only I can get away.”

“What’s he got in his handses?” saidGollum, looking at the sword, which hedid not quite like.

“A sword, a blade which came out ofGondolin!” “Sssss” said Gollum, andbecame quite polite. “Praps ye sits hereand chats with it a bitsy, my preciousss. Itlikes riddles, praps it does, does it?” Hewas anxious to appear friendly, at any ratefor the moment, and until he found outmore about the sword and the hobbit,whether he was quite alone really,whether he was good to eat, and whetherGollum was really hungry. Riddles were

all he could think of. Asking them, andsometimes guessing them, had been theonly game he had ever played with otherfunny creatures sitting in their holes in thelong, long ago, before he lost all hisfriends and was driven away, alone, andcrept down, down, into the dark under themountains.

“Very well,” said Bilbo, who wasanxious to agree, until he found out moreabout the creature, whether he was quitealone, whether he was fierce or hungry,and whether he was a friend of thegoblins.

“You ask first,” he said, because he hadnot had time to think of a riddle.

So Gollum hissed:

What has roots as nobody sees,Is taller than trees, Up, up it goes, And yet never grows?

“Easy!” said Bilbo. “Mountain, Isuppose.”

“Does it guess easy? It must have acompetition with us, my preciouss! Ifprecious asks, and it doesn’t answer, weeats it, my preciousss. If it asks us, and wedoesn’t answer, then we does what itwants, eh? We shows it the way out, yes!”

“All right!” said Bilbo, not daring todisagree, and nearly bursting his brain tothink of riddles that could save him frombeing eaten.

Thirty white horses on a red hill,First they champ, Then they stamp, Then they stand still.

That was all he could think of to ask—the idea of eating was rather on his mind.It was rather an old one, too, and Gollumknew the answer as well as you do.

“Chestnuts, chestnuts,” he hissed.“Teeth! teeth! my preciousss; but we hasonly six!” Then he asked his second:

Voiceless it cries,Wingless flutters,Toothless bites,Mouthless mutters.

“Half a moment!” cried Bilbo, who wasstill thinking uncomfortably about eating.Fortunately he had once heard somethingrather like this before, and getting his witsback he thought of the answer. “Wind,wind of course,” he said, and he was sopleased that he made up one on the spot.“This’ll puzzle the nasty little undergroundcreature,” he thought:

An eye in a blue faceSaw an eye in a green face.“That eye is like to this eye”Said the first eye,“But in low placeNot in high place.”

“Ss, ss, ss,” said Gollum. He had beenunderground a long long time, and wasforgetting this sort of thing. But just asBilbo was beginning to hope that thewretch would not be able to answer,Gollum brought up memories of ages andages and ages before, when he lived withhis grandmother in a hole in a bank by ariver, “Sss, sss, my preciouss,” he said.“Sun on the daisies it means, it does.”

But these ordinary above groundeveryday sort of riddles were tiring forhim. Also they reminded him of days whenhe had been less lonely and sneaky andnasty, and that put him out of temper. Whatis more they made him hungry; so this timehe tried something a bit more difficult andmore unpleasant:

It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt.It lies behind stars and under hills, And empty holes it fills.It comes first and follows after, Ends life, kills laughter.

Unfortunately for Gollum Bilbo hadheard that sort of thing before; and theanswer was all round him any way.“Dark!” he said without even scratchinghis head or putting on his thinking cap.

A box without hinges, key, or lid,Yet golden treasure inside is hid,

he asked to gain time, until he could think

of a really hard one. This he thought adreadfully easy chestnut, though he had notasked it in the usual words. But it proveda nasty poser for Gollum. He hissed tohimself, and still he did not answer; hewhispered and spluttered.

After some while Bilbo becameimpatient. “Well, what is it?” he said.“The answer’s not a kettle boiling over, asyou seem to think from the noise you aremaking.”

“Give us a chance; let it give us achance, my preciouss—ss—ss.”

“Well,” said Bilbo after giving him along chance, “what about your guess?”

But suddenly Gollum rememberedthieving from nests long ago, and sittingunder the river bank teaching hisgrandmother, teaching his grandmother to

suck—“Eggses!” he hissed. “Eggses it is!”Then he asked:

Alive without breath,As cold as death;Never thirsty, ever drinking,All in mail never clinking.

He also in his turn thought this was adreadfully easy one, because he wasalways thinking of the answer. But hecould not remember anything better at themoment, he was so flustered by the egg-question. All the same it was a poser forpoor Bilbo, who never had anything to dowith the water if he could help it. Iimagine you know the answer, of course,

or can guess it as easy as winking, sinceyou are sitting comfortably at home andhave not the danger of being eaten todisturb your thinking. Bilbo sat andcleared his throat once or twice, but noanswer came.

After a while Gollum began to hiss withpleasure to himself: “Is it nice, mypreciousss? Is it juicy? Is it scrumptiouslycrunchable?” He began to peer at Bilboout of the darkness.

“Half a moment,” said the hobbitshivering. “I gave you a good long chancejust now.”

“It must make haste, haste!” saidGollum, beginning to climb out of his boaton to the shore to get at Bilbo. But whenhe put his long webby foot in the water, afish jumped out in a fright and fell on

Bilbo’s toes.“Ugh!” he said, “it is cold and

clammy!”—and so he guessed. “Fish!fish!” he cried. “It is fish!”

Gollum was dreadfully disappointed;but Bilbo asked another riddle as quick asever he could, so that Gollum had to getback into his boat and think.

No-legs lay on one-leg, two-legs satnear on three-legs, four-legs got some.

It was not really the right time for thisriddle, but Bilbo was in a hurry. Gollummight have had some trouble guessing it, ifhe had asked it at another time. As it was,talking of fish, “no-legs” was not so verydifficult, and after that the rest was easy.“Fish on a little table, man at table sittingon a stool, the cat has the bones” that ofcourse is the answer, and Gollum soon

gave it. Then he thought the time had cometo ask something hard and horrible. This iswhat he said:

This thing all things devours:Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;Gnaws iron, bites steel;Grinds hard stones to meal;Slays king, ruins town,And beats high mountain down.

Poor Bilbo sat in the dark thinking ofall the horrible names of all the giants andogres he had ever heard told of in tales,but not one of them had done all thesethings. He had a feeling that the answerwas quite different and that he ought to

know it, but he could not think of it. Hebegan to get frightened, and that is bad forthinking. Gollum began to get out of hisboat. He flapped into the water andpaddled to the bank; Bilbo could see hiseyes coming towards him. His tongueseemed to stick in his mouth; he wanted toshout out: “Give me more time! Give metime!” But all that came out with a suddensqueal was:

“Time! Time!”

Bilbo was saved by pure luck. For thatof course was the answer.

Gollum was disappointed once more;and now he was getting angry, and alsotired of the game. It had made him veryhungry indeed. This time he did not go

back to the boat. He sat down in the darkby Bilbo. That made the hobbit mostdreadfully uncomfortable and scattered hiswits.

“It’s got to ask uss a quesstion, mypreciouss, yes, yess, yesss. Jusst one morequestion to guess, yes, yess,” said Gollum.

But Bilbo simply could not think of anyquestion with that nasty wet cold thingsitting next to him, and pawing and pokinghim. He scratched himself, he pinchedhimself; still he could not think ofanything.

“Ask us! ask us!” said Gollum.Bilbo pinched himself and slapped

himself; he gripped on his little sword; heeven felt in his pocket with his other hand.There he found the ring he had picked upin the passage and forgotten about.

“What have I got in my pocket?” he saidaloud. He was talking to himself, butGollum thought it was a riddle, and hewas frightfully upset.

“Not fair! not fair!” he hissed. “It isn’tfair, my precious, is it, to ask us what it’sgot in its nassty little pocketses?”

Bilbo seeing what had happened andhaving nothing better to ask stuck to hisquestion, “What have I got in my pocket?”he said louder.

“S-s-s-s-s,” hissed Gollum. “It mustgive us three guesseses, my preciouss,three guesseses.”

“Very well! Guess away!” said Bilbo.“Handses!” said Gollum.“Wrong,” said Bilbo, who had luckily

just taken his hand out again. “Guessagain!”

“S-s-s-s-s,” said Gollum more upsetthan ever. He thought of all the things hekept in his own pockets: fish-bones,goblins’ teeth, wet shells, a bit of bat-wing, a sharp stone to sharpen his fangson, and other nasty things. He tried to thinkwhat other people kept in their pockets.

“Knife!” he said at last.“Wrong!” said Bilbo, who had lost his

some time ago. “Last guess!”Now Gollum was in a much worse state

than when Bilbo had asked him the egg-question. He hissed and spluttered androcked himself backwards and forwards,and slapped his feet on the floor, andwriggled and squirmed; but still he did notdare to waste his last guess.

“Come on!” said Bilbo. “I am waiting!”He tried to sound bold and cheerful, but he

did not feel at all sure how the game wasgoing to end, whether Gollum guessedright or not.

“Time’s up!” he said.“String, or nothing!” shrieked Gollum,

which was not quite fair—working in twoguesses at once.

“Both wrong,” cried Bilbo very muchrelieved; and he jumped at once to hisfeet, put his back to the nearest wall, andheld out his little sword. He knew, ofcourse, that the riddle-game was sacredand of immense antiquity, and evenwicked creatures were afraid to cheatwhen they played at it. But he felt he couldnot trust this slimy thing to keep anypromise at a pinch. Any excuse would dofor him to slide out of it. And after all thatlast question had not been a genuine riddle

according to the ancient laws.But at any rate Gollum did not at once

attack him. He could see the sword inBilbo’s hand. He sat still, shivering andwhispering. At last Bilbo could wait nolonger.

“Well?” he said. “What about yourpromise? I want to go. You must show methe way.”

“Did we say so, precious? Show thenassty little Baggins the way out, yes, yes.But what has it got in its pocketses, eh?Not string, precious, but not nothing. Ohno! gollum!”

“Never you mind,” said Bilbo. “Apromise is a promise.”

“Cross it is, impatient, precious,”hissed Gollum. “But it must wait, yes itmust. We can’t go up the tunnels so hasty.

We must go and get some things first, yes,things to help us.”

“Well, hurry up!” said Bilbo, relievedto think of Gollum going away. He thoughthe was just making an excuse and did notmean to come back. What was Gollumtalking about? What useful thing could hekeep out on the dark lake? But he waswrong. Gollum did mean to come back.He was angry now and hungry. And hewas a miserable wicked creature, andalready he had a plan.

Not far away was his island, of whichBilbo knew nothing, and there in hishiding-place he kept a few wretchedoddments, and one very beautiful thing,very beautiful, very wonderful. He had aring, a golden ring, a precious ring.

“My birthday-present!” he whispered to

himself, as he had often done in theendless dark days. “That’s what we wantsnow, yes; we wants it!”

He wanted it because it was a ring ofpower, and if you slipped that ring on yourfinger, you were invisible; only in the fullsunlight could you be seen, and then onlyby your shadow, and that would be shakyand faint.

“My birthday-present! It came to me onmy birthday, my precious.” So he hadalways said to himself. But who knowshow Gollum came by that present, agesago in the old days when such rings werestill at large in the world? Perhaps eventhe Master who ruled them could not havesaid. Gollum used to wear it at first, till ittired him; and then he kept it in a pouchnext his skin, till it galled him; and now

usually he hid it in a hole in the rock onhis island, and was always going back tolook at it. And still sometimes he put it on,when he could not bear to be parted fromit any longer, or when he was very, very,hungry, and tired of fish. Then he wouldcreep along dark passages looking forstray goblins. He might even venture intoplaces where the torches were lit andmade his eyes blink and smart; for hewould be safe. Oh yes, quite safe. No onewould see him, no one would notice him,till he had his fingers on their throat. Onlya few hours ago he had worn it, and caughta small goblin-imp. How it squeaked! Hestill had a bone or two left to gnaw, but hewanted something softer.

“Quite safe, yes,” he whispered tohimself. “It won’t see us, will it, my

precious? No. It won’t see us, and itsnassty little sword will be useless, yesquite.”

That is what was in his wicked littlemind, as he slipped suddenly from Bilbo’sside, and flapped back to his boat, andwent off into the dark. Bilbo thought hehad heard the last of him. Still he waited awhile; for he had no idea how to find hisway out alone.

Suddenly he heard a screech. It sent ashiver down his back. Gollum was cursingand wailing away in the gloom, not veryfar off by the sound of it. He was on hisisland, scrabbling here and there,searching and seeking in vain.

“Where iss it? Where iss it?” Bilboheard him crying. “Losst it is, myprecious, lost, lost! Curse us and crush us,

my precious is lost!”“What’s the matter?” Bilbo called.

“What have you lost?”“It mustn’t ask us,” shrieked Gollum.

“Not its business, no, gollum! It’s losst,gollum, gollum, gollum.”

“Well, so am I,” cried Bilbo, “and Iwant to get unlost. And I won the game,and you promised. So come along! Comeand let me out, and then go on with yourlooking!” Utterly miserable as Gollumsounded, Bilbo could not find much pity inhis heart, and he had a feeling thatanything Gollum wanted so much couldhardly be something good. “Come along!”he shouted.

“No, not yet, precious!” Gollumanswered. “We must search for it, it’slost, gollum.”

“But you never guessed my lastquestion, and you promised,” said Bilbo.

“Never guessed!” said Gollum. Thensuddenly out of the gloom came a sharphiss. “What has it got in its pocketses?Tell us that. It must tell first.”

As far as Bilbo knew, there was noparticular reason why he should not tell.Gollum’s mind had jumped to a guessquicker than his; naturally, for Gollum hadbrooded for ages on this one thing, and hewas always afraid of its being stolen. ButBilbo was annoyed at the delay. After all,he had won the game, pretty fairly, at ahorrible risk. “Answers were to beguessed not given,” he said.

“But it wasn’t a fair question,” saidGollum. “Not a riddle, precious, no.”

“Oh well, if it’s a matter of ordinary

questions,” Bilbo replied, “then I askedone first. What have you lost? Tell methat!”

“What has it got in its pocketses?” Thesound came hissing louder and sharper,and as he looked towards it, to his alarmBilbo now saw two small points of lightpeering at him. As suspicion grew inGollum’s mind, the light of his eyesburned with a pale flame.

“What have you lost?” Bilbo persisted.But now the light in Gollum’s eyes had

become a green fire, and it was comingswiftly nearer. Gollum was in his boatagain, paddling wildly back to the darkshore; and such a rage of loss andsuspicion was in his heart that no swordhad any more terror for him.

Bilbo could not guess what had

maddened the wretched creature, but hesaw that all was up, and that Gollummeant to murder him at any rate. Just intime he turned and ran blindly back up thedark passage down which he had come,keeping close to the wall and feeling itwith his left hand.

“What has it got in its pocketses?” heheard the hiss loud behind him, and thesplash as Gollum leapt from his boat.“What have I, I wonder?” he said tohimself, as he panted and stumbled along.He put his left hand in his pocket. The ringfelt very cold as it quietly slipped on tohis groping forefinger.

The hiss was close behind him. Heturned now and saw Gollum’s eyes likesmall green lamps coming up the slope.Terrified he tried to run faster, but

suddenly he struck his toes on a snag in thefloor, and fell flat with his little swordunder him.

In a moment Gollum was on him. Butbefore Bilbo could do anything, recoverhis breath, pick himself up, or wave hissword, Gollum passed by, taking no noticeof him, cursing and whispering as he ran.

What could it mean? Gollum could seein the dark. Bilbo could see the light of hiseyes palely shining even from behind.Painfully he got up, and sheathed hissword, which was now glowing faintlyagain, then very cautiously he followed.There seemed nothing else to do. It was nogood crawling back down to Gollum’swater. Perhaps if he followed him,Gollum might lead him to some way ofescape without meaning to.

“Curse it! curse it! curse it!” hissedGollum. “Curse the Baggins! It’s gone!What has it got in its pocketses? Oh weguess, we guess, my precious. He’s foundit, yes he must have. My birthday-present.”

Bilbo pricked up his ears. He was atlast beginning to guess himself. He hurrieda little, getting as close as he dared behindGollum, who was still going quickly, notlooking back, but turning his head fromside to side, as Bilbo could see from thefaint glimmer on the walls.

“My birthday-present! Curse it! Howdid we lose it, my precious? Yes, that’s it.When we came this way last, when wetwisted that nassty young squeaker. That’sit. Curse it! It slipped from us, after allthese ages and ages! It’s gone, gollum.”

Suddenly Gollum sat down and beganto weep, a whistling and gurgling soundhorrible to listen to. Bilbo halted andflattened himself against the tunnel-wall.After a while Gollum stopped weepingand began to talk. He seemed to be havingan argument with himself.

“It’s no good going back there tosearch, no. We doesn’t remember all theplaces we’ve visited. And it’s no use. TheBaggins has got it in its pocketses; thenassty noser has found it, we says.”

“We guesses, precious, only guesses.We can’t know till we find the nasstycreature and squeezes it. But it doesn’tknow what the present can do, does it?It’ll just keep it in its pocketses. It doesn’tknow, and it can’t go far. It’s lost itself,the nassty nosey thing. It doesn’t know the

way out. It said so.”“It said so, yes; but it’s tricksy. It

doesn’t say what it means. It won’t saywhat it’s got in its pocketses. It knows. Itknows a way in, it must know a way out,yes. It’s off to the back-door. To the back-door, that’s it.”

“The goblinses will catch it then. Itcan’t get out that way, precious.”

“Ssss, sss, gollum! Goblinses! Yes, butif it’s got the present, our preciouspresent, then goblinses will get it, gollum!They’ll find it, they’ll find out what itdoes. We shan’t ever be safe again, never,gollum! One of the goblinses will put iton, and then no one will see him. He’ll bethere but not seen. Not even our clevereyeses will notice him; and he’ll comecreepsy and tricksy and catch us, gollum,

gollum!”“Then let’s stop talking, precious, and

make haste. If the Baggins has gone thatway, we must go quick and see. Go! Notfar now. Make haste!”

With a spring Gollum got up and startedshambling off at a great pace. Bilbohurried after him, still cautiously, thoughhis chief fear now was of tripping onanother snag and falling with a noise. Hishead was in a whirl of hope and wonder.It seemed that the ring he had was a magicring: it made you invisible! He had heardof such things, of course, in old old tales;but it was hard to believe that he reallyhad found one, by accident. Still there itwas: Gollum with his bright eyes hadpassed him by, only a yard to one side.

On they went, Gollum flip-flapping

ahead, hissing and cursing; Bilbo behindgoing as softly as a hobbit can. Soon theycame to places where, as Bilbo hadnoticed on the way down, side-passagesopened, this way and that. Gollum beganat once to count them.

“One left, yes. One right, yes. Tworight, yes, yes. Two left, yes, yes.” And soon and on.

As the count grew he slowed down, andhe began to get shaky and weepy; for hewas leaving the water further and furtherbehind, and he was getting afraid. Goblinsmight be about, and he had lost his ring. Atlast he stopped by a low opening, on theirleft as they went up.

“Seven right, yes. Six left, yes!” hewhispered. “This is it. This is the way tothe back-door, yes. Here’s the passage!”

He peered in, and shrank back. “But wedursn’t go in, precious, no we dursn’t.Goblinses down there. Lots of goblinses.We smells them. Ssss!”

“What shall we do? Curse them andcrush them! We must wait here, precious,wait a bit and see.”

So they came to a dead stop. Gollumhad brought Bilbo to the way out after all,but Bilbo could not get in! There wasGollum sitting humped up right in theopening, and his eyes gleamed cold in hishead, as he swayed it from side to sidebetween his knees.

Bilbo crept away from the wall morequietly than a mouse; but Gollum stiffenedat once, and sniffed, and his eyes wentgreen. He hissed softly but menacingly. Hecould not see the hobbit, but now he was

on the alert, and he had other senses thatthe darkness had sharpened: hearing andsmell. He seemed to be crouched rightdown with his flat hands splayed on thefloor, and his head thrust out, nose almostto the stone. Though he was only a blackshadow in the gleam of his own eyes,Bilbo could see or feel that he was tenseas a bowstring, gathered for a spring.

Bilbo almost stopped breathing, andwent stiff himself. He was desperate. Hemust get away, out of this horribledarkness, while he had any strength left.He must fight. He must stab the foul thing,put its eyes out, kill it. It meant to kill him.No, not a fair fight. He was invisible now.Gollum had no sword. Gollum had notactually threatened to kill him, or tried toyet. And he was miserable, alone, lost. A

sudden understanding, a pity mixed withhorror, welled up in Bilbo’s heart: aglimpse of endless unmarked days withoutlight or hope of betterment, hard stone,cold fish, sneaking and whispering. Allthese thoughts passed in a flash of asecond. He trembled. And then quitesuddenly in another flash, as if lifted by anew strength and resolve, he leaped.

No great leap for a man, but a leap inthe dark. Straight over Gollum’s head hejumped, seven feet forward and three inthe air; indeed, had he known it, he onlyjust missed cracking his skull on the lowarch of the passage.

Gollum threw himself backwards, andgrabbed as the hobbit flew over him, buttoo late: his hands snapped on thin air, andBilbo, falling fair on his sturdy feet, sped

off down the new tunnel. He did not turnto see what Gollum was doing. There wasa hissing and cursing almost at his heels atfirst, then it stopped. All at once therecame a blood-curdling shriek, filled withhatred and despair. Gollum was defeated.He dared go no further. He had lost: losthis prey, and lost, too, the only thing hehad ever cared for, his precious. The crybrought Bilbo’s heart to his mouth, butstill he held on. Now faint as an echo, butmenacing, the voice came behind:

“Thief, thief, thief! Baggins! We hatesit, we hates it, we hates it for ever!”

Then there was a silence. But that tooseemed menacing to Bilbo. “If goblins areso near that he smelt them,” he thought,“then they’ll have heard his shrieking andcursing. Careful now, or this way will

lead you to worse things.”The passage was low and roughly

made. It was not too difficult for thehobbit, except when, in spite of all care,he stubbed his poor toes again, severaltimes, on nasty jagged stones in the floor.“A bit low for goblins, at least for the bigones,” thought Bilbo, not knowing thateven the big ones, the orcs of themountains, go along at a great speedstooping low with their hands almost onthe ground.

Soon the passage that had been slopingdown began to go up again, and after awhile it climbed steeply. That slowedBilbo down. But at last the slope stopped,the passage turned a corner and dippeddown again, and there, at the bottom of ashort incline, he saw, filtering round

another corner—a glimpse of light. Notred light, as of fire or lantern, but a paleout-of-doors sort of light. Then Bilbobegan to run.

Scuttling as fast as his legs would carryhim he turned the last corner and camesuddenly right into an open space, wherethe light, after all that time in the dark,seemed dazzlingly bright. Really it wasonly a leak of sunshine in through adoorway, where a great door, a stonedoor, was left standing open.

Bilbo blinked, and then suddenly hesaw the goblins: goblins in full armourwith drawn swords sitting just inside thedoor, and watching it with wide eyes, andwatching the passage that led to it. Theywere aroused, alert, ready for anything.

They saw him sooner than he saw them.

Yes, they saw him. Whether it was anaccident, or a last trick of the ring beforeit took a new master, it was not on hisfinger. With yells of delight the goblinsrushed upon him.

A pang of fear and loss, like an echo ofGollum’s misery, smote Bilbo, andforgetting even to draw his sword hestruck his hands into his pockets. Andthere was the ring still, in his left pocket,and it slipped on his finger. The goblinsstopped short. They could not see a sign ofhim. He had vanished. They yelled twiceas loud as before, but not so delightedly.

“Where is it?” they cried.“Go back up the passage!” some

shouted.“This way!” some yelled. “That way!”

others yelled. “Look out for the door,”

bellowed the captain. Whistles blew,armour clashed, swords rattled, goblinscursed and swore and ran hither andthither, falling over one another andgetting very angry. There was a terribleoutcry, to-do, and disturbance.

Bilbo was dreadfully frightened, but hehad the sense to understand what hadhappened and to sneak behind a big barrelwhich held drink for the goblin-guards,and so get out of the way and avoid beingbumped into, trampled to death, or caughtby feel.

“I must get to the door, I must get to thedoor!” he kept on saying to himself, but itwas a long time before he ventured to try.Then it was like a horrible game of blind-man’s-buff. The place was full of goblinsrunning about, and the poor little hobbit

dodged this way and that, was knockedover by a goblin who could not make outwhat he had bumped into, scrambled awayon all fours, slipped between the legs ofthe captain just in time, got up, and ran forthe door.

It was still ajar, but a goblin had pushedit nearly to. Bilbo struggled but he couldnot move it. He tried to squeeze throughthe crack. He squeezed and squeezed, andhe stuck! It was awful. His buttons had gotwedged on the edge of the door and thedoor-post. He could see outside into theopen air: there were a few steps runningdown into a narrow valley between tallmountains; the sun came out from behind acloud and shone bright on the outside ofthe door—but he could not get through.

Suddenly one of the goblins inside

shouted: “There is a shadow by the door.Something is outside!”

Bilbo’s heart jumped into his mouth. Hegave a terrific squirm. Buttons burst off inall directions. He was through, with a torncoat and waistcoat, leaping down thesteps like a goat, while bewilderedgoblins were still picking up his nicebrass buttons on the doorstep.

Of course they soon came down afterhim, hooting and hallooing, and huntingamong the trees. But they don’t like thesun: it makes their legs wobble and theirheads giddy. They could not find Bilbowith the ring on, slipping in and out of theshadow of the trees, running quick andquiet, and keeping out of the sun; so soonthey went back grumbling and cursing toguard the door. Bilbo had escaped.

Chapter VI

OUT OF THE FRYING-PANINTO THE FIRE

Bilbo had escaped the goblins, but he didnot know where he was. He had lost hood,cloak, food, pony, his buttons and hisfriends. He wandered on and on, till thesun began to sink westwards—behind themountains. Their shadows fell acrossBilbo’s path, and he looked back. Then helooked forward and could see before himonly ridges and slopes falling towardslowlands and plains glimpsedoccasionally between the trees.

“Good heavens!” he exclaimed. “I seemto have got right to the other side of theMisty Mountains, right to the edge of theLand Beyond! Where and O where canGandalf and the dwarves have got to? Ionly hope to goodness they are not stillback there in the power of the goblins!”

He still wandered on, out of the littlehigh valley, over its edge, and down theslopes beyond; but all the while a veryuncomfortable thought was growing insidehim. He wondered whether he ought not,now he had the magic ring, to go back intothe horrible, horrible, tunnels and look forhis friends. He had just made up his mindthat it was his duty, that he must turn back—and very miserable he felt about it—when he heard voices.

He stopped and listened. It did not

sound like goblins; so he crept forwardcarefully. He was on a stony path windingdownwards with a rocky wall on the lefthand; on the other side the ground slopedaway and there were dells below the levelof the path overhung with bushes and lowtrees. In one of these dells under thebushes people were talking.

He crept still nearer, and suddenly hesaw peering between two big boulders ahead with a red hood on: it was Balindoing look-out. He could have clappedand shouted for joy, but he did not. He hadstill got the ring on, for fear of meetingsomething unexpected and unpleasant, andhe saw that Balin was looking straight athim without noticing him.

“I will give them all a surprise,” hethought, as he crawled into the bushes at

the edge of the dell. Gandalf was arguingwith the dwarves. They were discussingall that had happened to them in thetunnels, and wondering and debating whatthey were to do now. The dwarves weregrumbling, and Gandalf was saying thatthey could not possibly go on with theirjourney leaving Mr. Baggins in the handsof the goblins, without trying to find out ifhe was alive or dead, and without tryingto rescue him.

“After all he is my friend,” said thewizard, “and not a bad little chap. I feelresponsible for him. I wish to goodnessyou had not lost him.”

The dwarves wanted to know why hehad ever been brought at all, why he couldnot stick to his friends and come alongwith them, and why the wizard had not

chosen someone with more sense. “He hasbeen more trouble than use so far,” saidone. “If we have got to go back now intothose abominable tunnels to look for him,then drat him, I say.”

Gandalf answered angrily: “I broughthim, and I don’t bring things that are of nouse. Either you help me to look for him, orI go and leave you here to get out of themess as best you can yourselves. If we canonly find him again, you will thank mebefore all is over. Whatever did you wantto go and drop him for, Dori?”

“You would have dropped him,” saidDori, “if a goblin had suddenly grabbedyour legs from behind in the dark, trippedup your feet, and kicked you in the back!”

“Then why didn’t you pick him upagain?”

“Good heavens! Can you ask! Goblinsfighting and biting in the dark, everybodyfalling over bodies and hitting oneanother! You nearly chopped off my headwith Glamdring, and Thorin was stabbinghere there and everywhere with Orcrist.All of a sudden you gave one of yourblinding flashes, and we saw the goblinsrunning back yelping. You shouted ‘followme everybody!’ and everybody ought tohave followed. We thought everybodyhad. There was no time to count, as youknow quite well, till we had dashedthrough the gate-guards, out of the lowerdoor, and helter-skelter down here. Andhere we are—without the burglar,confusticate him!”

“And here’s the burglar!” said Bilbostepping down into the middle of them,

and slipping off the ring.Bless me, how they jumped! Then they

shouted with surprise and delight. Gandalfwas as astonished as any of them, butprobably more pleased than all the others.He called to Balin and told him what hethought of a look-out man who let peoplewalk right into them like that withoutwarning. It is a fact that Bilbo’s reputationwent up a very great deal with thedwarves after this. If they had stilldoubted that he was really a first-classburglar, in spite of Gandalf’s words, theydoubted no longer. Balin was the mostpuzzled of all; but everyone said it was avery clever bit of work.

Indeed Bilbo was so pleased with theirpraise that he just chuckled inside andsaid nothing whatever about the ring; and

when they asked him how he did it, hesaid: “Oh, just crept along, you know—very carefully and quietly.”

“Well, it is the first time that even amouse has crept along carefully andquietly under my very nose and not beenspotted,” said Balin, “and I take off myhood to you.” Which he did.

“Balin at your service,” said he.“Your servant, Mr. Baggins,” said

Bilbo.Then they wanted to know all about his

adventures after they had lost him, and hesat down and told them everything—except about the finding of the ring (“notjust now” he thought). They wereparticularly interested in the riddle-competition, and shuddered mostappreciatively at his description of

Gollum.“And then I couldn’t think of any other

question with him sitting beside me,”ended Bilbo; “so I said ‘what’s in mypocket?’ And he couldn’t guess in threegoes. So I said: ‘what about yourpromise? Show me the way out!’ But hecame at me to kill me, and I ran, and fellover, and he missed me in the dark. Then Ifollowed him, because I heard him talkingto himself. He thought I really knew theway out, and so he was making for it. Andthen he sat down in the entrance, and Icould not get by. So I jumped over himand escaped, and ran down to the gate.”

“What about the guards?” they asked.“Weren’t there any?”

“O yes! lots of them; but I dodged ’em. Igot stuck in the door, which was only open

a crack, and I lost lots of buttons,” he saidsadly looking at his torn clothes. “But Isqueezed through all right—and here Iam.”

The dwarves looked at him with quite anew respect, when he talked aboutdodging guards, jumping over Gollum, andsqueezing through, as if it was not verydifficult or very alarming.

“What did I tell you?” said Gandalflaughing. “Mr. Baggins has more abouthim than you guess.” He gave Bilbo aqueer look from under his bushyeyebrows, as he said this, and the hobbitwondered if he guessed at the part of histale that he had left out.

Then he had questions of his own toask, for if Gandalf had explained it all bynow to the dwarves, Bilbo had not heard

it. He wanted to know how the wizard hadturned up again, and where they had allgot to now.

The wizard, to tell the truth, neverminded explaining his cleverness morethan once, so now he told Bilbo that bothhe and Elrond had been well aware of thepresence of evil goblins in that part of themountains. But their main gate used tocome out on a different pass, one moreeasy to travel by, so that they often caughtpeople benighted near their gates.Evidently people had given up going thatway, and the goblins must have openedtheir new entrance at the top of the passthe dwarves had taken, quite recently,because it had been found quite safe up tonow.

“I must see if I can’t find a more or less

decent giant to block it up again,” saidGandalf, “or soon there will be no gettingover the mountains at all.”

As soon as Gandalf had heard Bilbo’syell he realized what had happened. In theflash which killed the goblins that weregrabbing him he had nipped inside thecrack, just as it snapped to. He followedafter the drivers and prisoners right to theedge of the great hall, and there he satdown and worked up the best magic hecould in the shadows.

“A very ticklish business, it was,” hesaid. “Touch and go!”

But, of course, Gandalf had made aspecial study of bewitchments with fireand lights (even the hobbit had neverforgotten the magic fireworks at OldTook’s midsummer-eve parties, as you

remember). The rest we all know—exceptthat Gandalf knew all about the back-door,as the goblins called the lower gate,where Bilbo lost his buttons. As a matterof fact it was well known to anybody whowas acquainted with this part of themountains; but it took a wizard to keep hishead in the tunnels and guide them in theright direction.

“They made that gate ages ago,” hesaid, “partly for a way of escape, if theyneeded one; partly as a way out into thelands beyond, where they still come in thedark and do great damage. They guard italways and no one has ever managed toblock it up. They will guard it doubly afterthis,” he laughed.

All the others laughed too. After allthey had lost a good deal, but they had

killed the Great Goblin and a great manyothers besides, and they had all escaped,so they might be said to have had the bestof it so far.

But the wizard called them to theirsenses. “We must be getting on at once,now we are a little rested,” he said. “Theywill be out after us in hundreds when nightcomes on; and already shadows arelengthening. They can smell our footstepsfor hours and hours after we have passed.We must be miles on before dusk. Therewill be a bit of moon, if it keeps fine, andthat is lucky. Not that they mind the moonmuch, but it will give us a little light tosteer by.”

“O yes!” he said in answer to morequestions from the hobbit. “You lose trackof time inside goblin-tunnels. Today’s

Thursday, and it was Monday night orTuesday morning that we were captured.We have gone miles and miles, and comeright down through the heart of themountains, and are now on the other side—quite a short cut. But we are not at thepoint to which our pass would havebrought us; we are too far to the North,and have some awkward country ahead.And we are still pretty high up. Let’s geton!”

“I am dreadfully hungry,” groanedBilbo, who was suddenly aware that hehad not had a meal since the night beforethe night before last. Just think of that for ahobbit! His stomach felt all empty andloose and his legs all wobbly, now thatthe excitement was over.

“Can’t help it,” said Gandalf, “unless

you like to go back and ask the goblinsnicely to let you have your pony back andyour luggage.”

“No thank you!” said Bilbo.“Very well then, we must just tighten

our belts and trudge on—or we shall bemade into supper, and that will be muchworse than having none ourselves.”

As they went on Bilbo looked from sideto side for something to eat; but theblackberries were still only in flower, andof course there were no nuts, not evenhawthorn-berries. He nibbled a bit ofsorrel, and he drank from a smallmountain-stream that crossed the path, andhe ate three wild strawberries that hefound on its bank, but it was not muchgood.

They still went on and on. The rough

path disappeared. The bushes, and thelong grasses between the boulders, thepatches of rabbit-cropped turf, the thymeand the sage and the marjoram, and theyellow rockroses all vanished, and theyfound themselves at the top of a widesteep slope of fallen stones, the remains ofa landslide. When they began to go downthis, rubbish and small pebbles rolledaway from their feet; soon larger bits ofsplit stone went clattering down andstarted other pieces below them slitheringand rolling; then lumps of rock weredisturbed and bounded off, crashing downwith a dust and a noise. Before long thewhole slope above them and below themseemed on the move, and they weresliding away, huddled all together, in afearful confusion of slipping, rattling,

cracking slabs and stones.It was the trees at the bottom that saved

them. They slid into the edge of a climbingwood of pines that here stood right up themountain slope from the deeper darkerforests of the valleys below. Some caughthold of the trunks and swung themselvesinto lower branches, some (like the littlehobbit) got behind a tree to shelter fromthe onslaught of the rocks. Soon the dangerwas over, the slide had stopped, and thelast faint crashes could be heard as thelargest of the disturbed stones wentbounding and spinning among the brackenand the pine-roots far below.

“Well! that has got us on a bit,” saidGandalf; “and even goblins tracking uswill have a job to come down herequietly.”

“I daresay,” grumbled Bombur; “butthey won’t find it difficult to send stonesbouncing down on our heads.” Thedwarves (and Bilbo) were feeling farfrom happy, and were rubbing theirbruised and damaged legs and feet.

“Nonsense! We are going to turn asidehere out of the path of the slide. We mustbe quick! Look at the light!”

The sun had long gone behind themountains. Already the shadows weredeepening about them, though far awaythrough the trees and over the black topsof those growing lower down they couldstill see the evening lights on the plainsbeyond. They limped along now as fast asthey were able down the gentle slopes of apine forest in a slanting path leadingsteadily southwards. At times they were

pushing through a sea of bracken with tallfronds rising right above the hobbit’shead; at times they were marching alongquiet as quiet over a floor of pine-needles;and all the while the forest-gloom gotheavier and the forest-silence deeper.There was no wind that evening to bringeven a sea-sighing into the branches of thetrees.

“Must we go any further?” asked Bilbo,when it was so dark that he could only justsee Thorin’s beard wagging beside him,and so quiet that he could hear thedwarves’ breathing like a loud noise. “Mytoes are all bruised and bent, and my legsache, and my stomach is wagging like an

empty sack.”“A bit further,” said Gandalf.After what seemed ages further they

came suddenly to an opening where notrees grew. The moon was up and wasshining into the clearing. Somehow itstruck all of them as not at all a niceplace, although there was nothing wrongto see.

All of a sudden they heard a howl awaydown hill, a long shuddering howl. It wasanswered by another away to the right anda good deal nearer to them; then byanother not far away to the left. It waswolves howling at the moon, wolvesgathering together!

There were no wolves living near Mr.Baggins’ hole at home, but he knew thatnoise. He had had it described to him

often enough in tales. One of his eldercousins (on the Took side), who had beena great traveller, used to imitate it tofrighten him. To hear it out in the forestunder the moon was too much for Bilbo.Even magic rings are not much use againstwolves—especially against the evil packsthat lived under the shadow of the goblin-infested mountains, over the Edge of theWild on the borders of the unknown.Wolves of that sort smell keener thangoblins, and do not need to see you tocatch you!

“What shall we do, what shall we do!”he cried. “Escaping goblins to be caughtby wolves!” he said, and it became aproverb, though we now say “out of thefrying-pan into the fire” in the same sort ofuncomfortable situations.

“Up the trees quick!” cried Gandalf;and they ran to the trees at the edge of theglade, hunting for those that had branchesfairly low, or were slender enough toswarm up. They found them as quick asever they could, you can guess; and upthey went as high as ever they could trustthe branches. You would have laughed(from a safe distance), if you had seen thedwarves sitting up in the trees with theirbeards dangling down, like old gentlemengone cracked and playing at being boys.Fili and Kili were at the top of a tall larchlike an enormous Christmas tree. Dori,Nori, Ori, Oin, and Gloin were morecomfortable in a huge pine with regularbranches sticking out at intervals like thespokes of a wheel. Bifur, Bofur, Bombur,and Thorin were in another. Dwalin and

Balin had swarmed up a tall slender firwith few branches and were trying to finda place to sit in the greenery of thetopmost boughs. Gandalf, who was a gooddeal taller than the others, had found a treeinto which they could not climb, a largepine standing at the very edge of the glade.He was quite hidden in its boughs, but youcould see his eyes gleaming in the moonas he peeped out.

And Bilbo? He could not get into anytree, and was scuttling about from trunk totrunk, like a rabbit that has lost its holeand has a dog after it.

“You’ve left the burglar behind again!”said Nori to Dori looking down.

“I can’t be always carrying burglars onmy back,” said Dori, “down tunnels andup trees! What do you think I am? A

porter?”“He’ll be eaten if we don’t do

something,” said Thorin, for there werehowls all round them now, getting nearerand nearer. “Dori!” he called, for Doriwas lowest down in the easiest tree, “bequick, and give Mr. Baggins a hand up!”

Dori was really a decent fellow in spiteof his grumbling. Poor Bilbo could notreach his hand even when he climbeddown to the bottom branch and hung hisarm down as far as ever he could. So Doriactually climbed out of the tree and letBilbo scramble up and stand on his back.

Just at that moment the wolves trottedhowling into the clearing. All of a suddenthere were hundreds of eyes looking atthem. Still Dori did not let Bilbo down.He waited till he had clambered off his

shoulders into the branches, and then hejumped for the branches himself. Only justin time! A wolf snapped at his cloak as heswung up, and nearly got him. In a minutethere was a whole pack of them yelpingall round the tree and leaping up at thetrunk, with eyes blazing and tongueshanging out.

But even the wild Wargs (for so theevil wolves over the Edge of the Wildwere named) cannot climb trees. For atime they were safe. Luckily it was warmand not windy. Trees are not verycomfortable to sit in for long at any time;but in the cold and the wind, with wolvesall round below waiting for you, they canbe perfectly miserable places.

This glade in the ring of trees wasevidently a meeting-place of the wolves.

More and more kept coming in. They leftguards at the foot of the tree in which Doriand Bilbo were, and then went snufflingabout till they had smelt out every tree thathad anyone in it. These they guarded too,while all the rest (hundreds and hundredsit seemed) went and sat in a great circle inthe glade; and in the middle of the circlewas a great grey wolf. He spoke to themin the dreadful language of the Wargs.Gandalf understood it. Bilbo did not, but itsounded terrible to him, and as if all theirtalk was about cruel and wicked things, asit was. Every now and then all the Wargsin the circle would answer their grey chiefall together, and their dreadful clamouralmost made the hobbit fall out of hispine-tree.

I will tell you what Gandalf heard,

though Bilbo did not understand it. TheWargs and the goblins often helped oneanother in wicked deeds. Goblins do notusually venture very far from theirmountains, unless they are driven out andare looking for new homes, or aremarching to war (which I am glad to sayhas not happened for a long while). But inthose days they sometimes used to go onraids, especially to get food or slaves towork for them. Then they often got theWargs to help and shared the plunder withthem. Sometimes they rode on wolves likemen do on horses. Now it seemed that agreat goblin-raid had been planned for thatvery night. The Wargs had come to meetthe goblins and the goblins were late. Thereason, no doubt, was the death of theGreat Goblin, and all the excitement

caused by the dwarves and Bilbo and thewizard, for whom they were probably stillhunting.

In spite of the dangers of this far landbold men had of late been making theirway back into it from the South, cuttingdown trees, and building themselvesplaces to live in among the more pleasantwoods in the valleys and along the river-shores. There were many of them, and theywere brave and well-armed, and even theWargs dared not attack them if there weremany together, or in the bright day. Butnow they had planned with the goblins’help to come by night upon some of thevillages nearest the mountains. If theirplan had been carried out, there wouldhave been none left there next day; allwould have been killed except the few the

goblins kept from the wolves and carriedback as prisoners to their caves.

This was dreadful talk to listen to, notonly because of the brave woodmen andtheir wives and children, but also becauseof the danger which now threatenedGandalf and his friends. The Wargs wereangry and puzzled at finding them here intheir very meeting-place. They thoughtthey were friends of the woodmen, andwere come to spy on them, and would takenews of their plans down into the valleys,and then the goblins and the wolves wouldhave to fight a terrible battle instead ofcapturing prisoners and devouring peoplewaked suddenly from their sleep. So theWargs had no intention of going away andletting the people up the trees escape, atany rate not until morning. And long

before that, they said, goblin soldierswould be coming down from themountains; and goblins can climb trees, orcut them down.

Now you can understand why Gandalf,listening to their growling and yelping,began to be dreadfully afraid, wizardthough he was, and to feel that they werein a very bad place, and had not yetescaped at all. All the same he was notgoing to let them have it all their ownway, though he could not do very muchstuck up in a tall tree with wolves allround on the ground below. He gatheredthe huge pine-cones from the branches ofthe tree. Then he set one alight with brightblue fire, and threw it whizzing downamong the circle of the wolves. It struckone on the back, and immediately his

shaggy coat caught fire, and he wasleaping to and fro yelping horribly. Thenanother came and another, one in blueflames, one in red, another in green. Theyburst on the ground in the middle of thecircle and went off in coloured sparks andsmoke. A specially large one hit the chiefwolf on the nose, and he leaped in the airten feet, and then rushed round and roundthe circle biting and snapping even at theother wolves in his anger and fright.

The dwarves and Bilbo shouted andcheered. The rage of the wolves wasterrible to see, and the commotion theymade filled all the forest. Wolves areafraid of fire at all times, but this was amost horrible and uncanny fire. If a sparkgot in their coats it stuck and burned intothem, and unless they rolled over quick

they were soon all in flames. Very soonall about the glade wolves were rollingover and over to put out the sparks ontheir backs, while those that were burningwere running about howling and settingothers alight, till their own friends chasedthem away and they fled off down theslopes crying and yammering and lookingfor water.

“What is all this uproar in the foresttonight?” said the Lord of the Eagles. Hewas sitting, black in the moonlight, on thetop of a lonely pinnacle of rock at theeastern edge of the mountains. “I hearwolves’ voices! Are the goblins atmischief in the woods?”

He swept up into the air, andimmediately two of his guards from therocks at either hand leaped up to followhim. They circled up in the sky and lookeddown upon the ring of the Wargs, a tinyspot far far below. But eagles have keeneyes and can see small things at a greatdistance. The Lord of the Eagles of theMisty Mountains had eyes that could lookat the sun unblinking, and could see arabbit moving on the ground a mile beloweven in the moonlight. So though he couldnot see the people in the trees, he couldmake out the commotion among thewolves and see the tiny flashes of fire, andhear the howling and yelping come upfaint from far beneath him. Also he couldsee the glint of the moon on goblin spearsand helmets, as long lines of the wicked

folk crept down the hillsides from theirgate and wound into the wood.

Eagles are not kindly birds. Some arecowardly and cruel. But the ancient raceof the northern mountains were thegreatest of all birds; they were proud andstrong and noble-hearted. They did notlove goblins, or fear them. When they tookany notice of them at all (which wasseldom, for they did not eat suchcreatures), they swooped on them anddrove them shrieking back to their caves,and stopped whatever wickedness theywere doing. The goblins hated the eaglesand feared them, but could not reach theirlofty seats, or drive them from themountains.

Tonight the Lord of the Eagles wasfilled with curiosity to know what was

afoot; so he summoned many other eaglesto him, and they flew away from themountains, and slowly circling ever roundand round they came down, down, downtowards the ring of the wolves and themeeting-place of the goblins.

A very good thing too! Dreadful thingshad been going on down there. Thewolves that had caught fire and fled intothe forest had set it alight in severalplaces. It was high summer, and on thiseastern side of the mountains there hadbeen little rain for some time. Yellowingbracken, fallen branches, deep-piled pine-needles, and here and there dead trees,were soon in flames. All round theclearing of the Wargs fire was leaping.But the wolf-guards did not leave thetrees. Maddened and angry they were

leaping and howling round the trunks, andcursing the dwarves in their horriblelanguage, with their tongues hanging out,and their eyes shining as red and fierce asthe flames.

Then suddenly goblins came running upyelling. They thought a battle with thewoodmen was going on; but they soonlearned what had really happened. Someof them actually sat down and laughed.Others waved their spears and clashed theshafts against their shields. Goblins arenot afraid of fire, and they soon had a planwhich seemed to them most amusing.

Some got all the wolves together in apack. Some stacked fern and brushwoodround the tree-trunks. Others rushed roundand stamped and beat, and beat andstamped, until nearly all the flames were

put out—but they did not put out the firenearest to the trees where the dwarveswere. That fire they fed with leaves anddead branches and bracken. Soon they hada ring of smoke and flame all round thedwarves, a ring which they kept fromspreading outwards; but it closed slowlyin, till the running fire was licking the fuelpiled under the trees. Smoke was inBilbo’s eyes, he could feel the heat of theflames; and through the reek he could seethe goblins dancing round and round in acircle like people round a midsummerbonfire. Outside the ring of dancingwarriors with spears and axes stood thewolves at a respectful distance, watchingand waiting.

He could hear the goblins beginning ahorrible song:

Fifteen birds in five fir-trees,their feathers were fanned in a fierybreeze!But, funny little birds, they had nowings!O what shall we do with the funnylittle things? Roast ’em alive, orstew them in a pot;fry them, boil them and eat themhot?

Then they stopped and shouted out: “Flyaway little birds! Fly away if you can!Come down little birds, or you will getroasted in your nests! Sing, sing littlebirds! Why don’t you sing?”

“Go away! little boys!” shoutedGandalf in answer. “It isn’t bird-nesting

time. Also naughty little boys that playwith fire get punished.” He said it to makethem angry, and to show them he was notfrightened of them—though of course hewas, wizard though he was. But they tookno notice, and they went on singing.

Burn, burn tree and fern!Shrivel and scorch! A fizzling torchTo light the night for our delight, Ya hey!Bake and toast ’em, fry and roast’em!till beards blaze, and eyes glaze;till hair smells and skins crack,fat melts, and bones black in cinders lie beneath the sky!

So dwarves shall die,and light the night for our delight, Ya hey! Ya-harri-hey! Ya hoy!

And with that Ya hoy ! the flames wereunder Gandalf’s tree. In a moment itspread to the others. The bark caught fire,the lower branches cracked.

Then Gandalf climbed to the top of histree. The sudden splendour flashed fromhis wand like lightning, as he got ready tospring down from on high right among thespears of the goblins. That would havebeen the end of him, though he wouldprobably have killed many of them as hecame hurtling down like a thunderbolt. But

he never leaped.Just at that moment the Lord of the

Eagles swept down from above, seizedhim in his talons, and was gone.

There was a howl of anger and surprisefrom the goblins. Loud cried the Lord ofthe Eagles, to whom Gandalf had nowspoken. Back swept the great birds thatwere with him, and down they came likehuge black shadows. The wolvesyammered and gnashed their teeth; thegoblins yelled and stamped with rage, andflung their heavy spears in the air in vain.Over them swooped the eagles; the darkrush of their beating wings smote them tothe floor or drove them far away; their

talons tore at goblin faces. Other birdsflew to the tree-tops and seized thedwarves, who were scrambling up now asfar as they ever dared to go.

Poor little Bilbo was very nearly leftbehind again! He just managed to catchhold of Dori’s legs, as Dori was borne offlast of all; and up they went togetherabove the tumult and the burning, Bilboswinging in the air with his arms nearlybreaking.

Now far below the goblins and thewolves were scattering far and wide inthe woods. A few eagles were stillcircling and sweeping above thebattleground. The flames about the treessprang suddenly up above the highestbranches. They went up in crackling fire.There was a sudden flurry of sparks and

smoke. Bilbo had escaped only just intime!

Soon the light of the burning was faintbelow, a red twinkle on the black floor;and they were high up in the sky, rising allthe time in strong sweeping circles. Bilbonever forgot that flight, clinging ontoDori’s ankles. He moaned “my arms, myarms!”; but Dori groaned “my poor legs,my poor legs!”

At the best of times heights made Bilbogiddy. He used to turn queer if he lookedover the edge of quite a little cliff; and hehad never liked ladders, let alone trees(never having had to escape from wolvesbefore). So you can imagine how his headswam now, when he looked downbetween his dangling toes and saw thedark lands opening wide underneath him,

touched here and there with the light of themoon on a hill-side rock or a stream in theplains.

The pale peaks of the mountains werecoming nearer, moonlit spikes of rocksticking out of black shadows. Summer ornot, it seemed very cold. He shut his eyesand wondered if he could hold on anylonger. Then he imagined what wouldhappen if he did not. He felt sick.

The flight ended only just in time forhim, just before his arms gave way. Heloosed Dori’s ankles with a gasp and fellonto the rough platform of an eagle’seyrie. There he lay without speaking, andhis thoughts were a mixture of surprise atbeing saved from the fire, and fear lest hefall off that narrow place into the deepshadows on either side. He was feeling

very queer indeed in his head by this timeafter the dreadful adventures of the lastthree days with next to nothing to eat, andhe found himself saying aloud: “Now Iknow what a piece of bacon feels likewhen it is suddenly picked out of the panon a fork and put back on the shelf!”

“No you don’t!” he heard Dorianswering, “because the bacon knows thatit will get back in the pan sooner or later;and it is to be hoped we shan’t. Alsoeagles aren’t forks!”

“O no! Not a bit like storks—forks, Imean,” said Bilbo sitting up and lookinganxiously at the eagle who was perchedclose by. He wondered what othernonsense he had been saying, and if theeagle would think it rude. You ought not tobe rude to an eagle, when you are only the

size of a hobbit, and are up in his eyrie atnight!

The eagle only sharpened his beak on astone and trimmed his feathers and took nonotice.

Soon another eagle flew up. “The Lordof the Eagles bids you to bring yourprisoners to the Great Shelf,” he cried andwas off again. The other seized Dori in hisclaws and flew away with him into thenight leaving Bilbo all alone. He had juststrength to wonder what the messengerhad meant by ‘prisoners,’ and to begin tothink of being torn up for supper like arabbit, when his own turn came.

The eagle came back, seized him in histalons by the back of his coat, andswooped off. This time he flew only ashort way. Very soon Bilbo was laid

down, trembling with fear, on a wide shelfof rock on the mountain-side. There wasno path down on to it save by flying; andno path down off it except by jumpingover a precipice. There he found all theothers sitting with their backs to themountain wall. The Lord of the Eaglesalso was there and was speaking toGandalf.

It seemed that Bilbo was not going to beeaten after all. The wizard and the eagle-lord appeared to know one anotherslightly, and even to be on friendly terms.As a matter of fact Gandalf, who had oftenbeen in the mountains, had once rendereda service to the eagles and healed theirlord from an arrow-wound. So you see‘prisoners’ had meant ‘prisoners rescuedfrom the goblins’ only, and not captives of

the eagles. As Bilbo listened to the talk ofGandalf he realized that at last they weregoing to escape really and truly from thedreadful mountains. He was discussingplans with the Great Eagle for carrying thedwarves and himself and Bilbo far awayand setting them down well on theirjourney across the plains below.

The Misty Mountains Looking Westfrom the Eyrie towards Goblin Gate

The Lord of the Eagles would not takethem anywhere near where men lived.“They would shoot at us with their greatbows of yew,” he said, “for they wouldthink we were after their sheep. And atother times they would be right. No! weare glad to cheat the goblins of their sport,and glad to repay our thanks to you, butwe will not risk ourselves for dwarves inthe southward plains.”

“Very well,” said Gandalf. “Take uswhere and as far as you will! We arealready deeply obliged to you. But in themeantime we are famished with hunger.”

“I am nearly dead of it,” said Bilbo in a

weak little voice that nobody heard.“That can perhaps be mended,” said the

Lord of the Eagles.Later on you might have seen a bright

fire on the shelf of rock and the figures ofthe dwarves round it cooking and makinga fine roasting smell. The eagles hadbrought up dry boughs for fuel, and theyhad brought rabbits, hares, and a smallsheep. The dwarves managed all thepreparations. Bilbo was too weak to help,and anyway he was not much good atskinning rabbits or cutting up meat, beingused to having it delivered by the butcherall ready to cook. Gandalf, too, was lyingdown after doing his part in setting the firegoing, since Oin and Gloin had lost theirtinder-boxes. (Dwarves have never takento matches even yet.)

So ended the adventures of the MistyMountains. Soon Bilbo’s stomach wasfeeling full and comfortable again, and hefelt he could sleep contentedly, thoughreally he would have liked a loaf andbutter better than bits of meat toasted onsticks. He slept curled up on the hard rockmore soundly than ever he had done on hisfeather-bed in his own little hole at home.But all night he dreamed of his own houseand wandered in his sleep into all hisdifferent rooms looking for something thathe could not find nor remember what itlooked like.

Chapter VII

QUEER LODGINGS

The next morning Bilbo woke up with theearly sun in his eyes. He jumped up tolook at the time and to go and put his kettleon—and found he was not home at all. Sohe sat down and wished in vain for a washand a brush. He did not get either, nor teanor toast nor bacon for his breakfast, onlycold mutton and rabbit. And after that hehad to get ready for a fresh start.

This time he was allowed to climb onto an eagle’s back and cling between hiswings. The air rushed over him and he

shut his eyes. The dwarves were cryingfarewells and promising to repay the Lordof the Eagles if ever they could, as offrose fifteen great birds from themountain’s side. The sun was still close tothe eastern edge of things. The morningwas cool, and mists were in the valleysand hollows and twined here and thereabout the peaks and pinnacles of the hills.Bilbo opened an eye to peep and saw thatthe birds were already high up and theworld was far away, and the mountainswere falling back behind them into thedistance. He shut his eyes again and heldon tighter.

“Don’t pinch!” said his eagle. “Youneed not be frightened like a rabbit, evenif you look rather like one. It is a fairmorning with little wind. What is finer

than flying?”Bilbo would have liked to say: “A

warm bath and late breakfast on the lawnafterwards;” but he thought it better to saynothing at all, and to let go his clutch just atiny bit.

After a good while the eagles must haveseen the point they were making for, evenfrom their great height, for they began togo down circling round in great spirals.They did this for a long while, and at lastthe hobbit opened his eyes again. Theearth was much nearer, and below themwere trees that looked like oaks and elms,and wide grass lands, and a river runningthrough it all. But cropping out of theground, right in the path of the streamwhich looped itself about it, was a greatrock, almost a hill of stone, like a last

outpost of the distant mountains, or a hugepiece cast miles into the plain by somegiant among giants.

Quickly now to the top of this rock theeagles swooped one by one and set downtheir passengers.

“Farewell!” they cried, “wherever youfare, till your eyries receive you at thejourney’s end!” That is the polite thing tosay among eagles.

“May the wind under your wings bearyou where the sun sails and the moonwalks,” answered Gandalf, who knew thecorrect reply.

And so they parted. And though theLord of the Eagles became in after daysthe King of All Birds and wore a goldencrown, and his fifteen chieftains goldencollars (made of the gold that the dwarves

gave them), Bilbo never saw them again—except high and far off in the battle of FiveArmies. But as that comes in at the end ofthis tale we will say no more about it justnow.

There was a flat space on the top of thehill of stone and a well worn path withmany steps leading down it to the river,across which a ford of huge flat stones ledto the grass-land beyond the stream. Therewas a little cave (a wholesome one with apebbly floor) at the foot of the steps andnear the end of the stony ford. Here theparty gathered and discussed what was tobe done.

“I always meant to see you all safe (ifpossible) over the mountains,” said thewizard, “and now by good managementand good luck I have done it. Indeed we

are now a good deal further east than Iever meant to come with you, for after allthis is not my adventure. I may look in onit again before it is all over, but in themeanwhile I have some other pressingbusiness to attend to.”

The dwarves groaned and looked mostdistressed, and Bilbo wept. They hadbegun to think Gandalf was going to comeall the way and would always be there tohelp them out of difficulties. “I am notgoing to disappear this very instant,” saidhe. “I can give you a day or two more.Probably I can help you out of yourpresent plight, and I need a little helpmyself. We have no food, and no baggage,and no ponies to ride; and you don’t knowwhere you are. Now I can tell you that.You are still some miles north of the path

which we should have been following, ifwe had not left the mountain pass in ahurry. Very few people live in these parts,unless they have come here since I waslast down this way, which is some yearsago. But there is somebody that I know of,who lives not far away. That Somebodymade the steps on the great rock—theCarrock I believe he calls it. He does notcome here often, certainly not in thedaytime, and it is no good waiting for him.In fact it would be very dangerous. Wemust go and find him; and if all goes wellat our meeting, I think I shall be off andwish you like the eagles ‘farewellwherever you fare!’”

They begged him not to leave them.They offered him dragon-gold and silverand jewels, but he would not change his

mind. “We shall see, we shall see!” hesaid, “and I think I have earned alreadysome of your dragon-gold—when youhave got it.”

After that they stopped pleading. Thenthey took off their clothes and bathed inthe river, which was shallow and clearand stony at the ford. When they had driedin the sun, which was now strong andwarm, they were refreshed, if still soreand a little hungry. Soon they crossed theford (carrying the hobbit), and then beganto march through the long green grass anddown the lines of the wide-armed oaksand the tall elms.

“And why is it called the Carrock?”

asked Bilbo as he went along at thewizard’s side.

“He called it the Carrock, becausecarrock is his word for it. He calls thingslike that carrocks, and this one is theCarrock because it is the only one near hishome and he knows it well.”

“Who calls it? Who knows it?”“The Somebody I spoke of—a very

great person. You must all be very politewhen I introduce you. I shall introduce youslowly, two by two, I think; and you mustbe careful not to annoy him, or heavenknows what will happen. He can beappalling when he is angry, though he iskind enough if humoured. Still I warn youhe gets angry easily.”

The dwarves all gathered round whenthey heard the wizard talking like this to

Bilbo. “Is that the person you are taking usto now?” they asked. “Couldn’t you findsomeone more easy-tempered? Hadn’t youbetter explain it all a bit clearer?”—andso on.

“Yes it certainly is! No I could not!And I was explaining very carefully,”answered the wizard crossly. “If you mustknow more, his name is Beorn. He is verystrong, and he is a skin-changer.”

“What! a furrier, a man that callsrabbits conies, when he doesn’t turn theirskins into squirrels?” asked Bilbo.

“Good gracious heavens, no, no, NO,NO!” said Gandalf. “Don’t be a fool Mr.Baggins if you can help it; and in the nameof all wonder don’t mention the wordfurrier again as long as you are within ahundred miles of his house, nor rug, cape,

tippet, muff, nor any other such unfortunateword! He is a skin-changer. He changeshis skin: sometimes he is a huge blackbear, sometimes he is a great strong black-haired man with huge arms and a greatbeard. I cannot tell you much more, thoughthat ought to be enough. Some say that heis a bear descended from the great andancient bears of the mountains that livedthere before the giants came. Others saythat he is a man descended from the firstmen who lived before Smaug or the otherdragons came into this part of the world,and before the goblins came into the hillsout of the North. I cannot say, though Ifancy the last is the true tale. He is not thesort of person to ask questions of.

“At any rate he is under no enchantmentbut his own. He lives in an oak-wood and

has a great wooden house; and as a man hekeeps cattle and horses which are nearlyas marvellous as himself. They work forhim and talk to him. He does not eat them;neither does he hunt or eat wild animals.He keeps hives and hives of great fiercebees, and lives most on cream and honey.As a bear he ranges far and wide. I oncesaw him sitting all alone on the top of theCarrock at night watching the moonsinking towards the Misty Mountains, andI heard him growl in the tongue of bears:‘The day will come when they will perishand I shall go back!’ That is why I believehe once came from the mountainshimself.”

Bilbo and the dwarves had now plenty tothink about, and they asked no morequestions. They still had a long way towalk before them. Up slope and downdale they plodded. It grew very hot.Sometimes they rested under the trees, andthen Bilbo felt so hungry that he wouldhave eaten acorns, if any had been ripeenough yet to have fallen to the ground.

It was the middle of the afternoonbefore they noticed that great patches offlowers had begun to spring up, all thesame kinds growing together as if they hadbeen planted. Especially there was clover,waving patches of cockscomb clover, andpurple clover, and wide stretches of shortwhite sweet honey-smelling clover. Therewas a buzzing and a whirring and adroning in the air. Bees were busy

everywhere. And such bees! Bilbo hadnever seen anything like them.

“If one was to sting me,” he thought, “Ishould swell up as big again as I am!”

They were bigger than hornets. Thedrones were bigger than your thumb, agood deal, and the bands of yellow ontheir deep black bodies shone like fierygold.

“We are getting near,” said Gandalf.“We are on the edge of his bee-pastures.”

After a while they came to a belt of talland very ancient oaks, and beyond these toa high thorn-hedge through which youcould neither see nor scramble.

“You had better wait here,” said the

wizard to the dwarves; “and when I callor whistle begin to come after me—youwill see the way I go—but only in pairs,mind, about five minutes between eachpair of you. Bombur is fattest and will dofor two, he had better come alone and last.Come on Mr. Baggins! There is a gatesomewhere round this way.” And with thathe went off along the hedge taking thefrightened hobbit with him.

They soon came to a wooden gate, highand broad, beyond which they could seegardens and a cluster of low woodenbuildings, some thatched and made ofunshaped logs: barns, stables, sheds, and along low wooden house. Inside on thesouthward side of the great hedge wererows and rows of hives with bell-shapedtops made of straw. The noise of the giant

bees flying to and fro and crawling in andout filled all the air.

The wizard and the hobbit pushed openthe heavy creaking gate and went down awide track towards the house. Somehorses, very sleek and well-groomed,trotted up across the grass and looked atthem intently with very intelligent faces;then off they galloped to the buildings.

“They have gone to tell him of thearrival of strangers,” said Gandalf.

Soon they reached a courtyard, threewalls of which were formed by thewooden house and its two long wings. Inthe middle there was lying a great oak-trunk with many lopped branches besideit. Standing near was a huge man with athick black beard and hair, and great barearms and legs with knotted muscles. He

was clothed in a tunic of wool down to hisknees, and was leaning on a large axe. Thehorses were standing by him with theirnoses at his shoulder.

“Ugh! here they are!” he said to thehorses. “They don’t look dangerous. Youcan be off!” He laughed a great rollinglaugh, put down his axe and cameforward.

“Who are you and what do you want?”he asked gruffly, standing in front of themand towering tall above Gandalf. As forBilbo he could easily have trotted throughhis legs without ducking his head to missthe fringe of the man’s brown tunic.

“I am Gandalf,” said the wizard.“Never heard of him,” growled the

man. “And what’s this little fellow?” hesaid, stooping down to frown at the hobbit

with his bushy black eyebrows.“That is Mr. Baggins, a hobbit of good

family and unimpeachable reputation,”said Gandalf. Bilbo bowed. He had no hatto take off, and was painfully conscious ofhis many missing buttons. “I am a wizard,”continued Gandalf. “I have heard of you, ifyou have not heard of me; but perhaps youhave heard of my good cousin Radagastwho lives near the Southern borders ofMirkwood?”

“Yes; not a bad fellow as wizards go, Ibelieve. I used to see him now and again,”said Beorn. “Well, now I know who youare, or who you say you are. What do youwant?”

“To tell you the truth, we have lost ourluggage and nearly lost our way, and arerather in need of help, or at least of

advice. I may say we have had rather abad time with goblins in the mountains.”

“Goblins?” said the big man lessgruffly. “O ho, so you’ve been havingtrouble with them have you? What did yougo near them for?”

“We did not mean to. They surprised usat night in a pass which we had to cross;we were coming out of the Lands overWest into these countries—it is a longtale.”

“Then you had better come inside andtell me some of it, if it won’t take all day,”said the man leading the way through adark door that opened out of the courtyardinto the house.

Following him they found themselves ina wide hall with a fire-place in themiddle. Though it was summer there was

a wood-fire burning and the smoke wasrising to the blackened rafters in search ofthe way out through an opening in the roof.They passed through this dim hall, lit onlyby the fire and the hole above it, and camethrough another smaller door into a sort ofveranda propped on wooden posts madeof single tree-trunks. It faced south andwas still warm and filled with the light ofthe westering sun which slanted into it,and fell golden on the garden full offlowers that came right up to the steps.

Here they sat on wooden benches whileGandalf began his tale, and Bilbo swunghis dangling legs and looked at theflowers in the garden, wondering whattheir names could be, as he had never seenhalf of them before.

“I was coming over the mountains witha friend or two...” said the wizard.

“Or two? I can only see one, and a littleone at that,” said Beorn.

“Well to tell you the truth, I did not liketo bother you with a lot of us, until I foundout if you were busy. I will give a call, if Imay.”

“Go on, call away!”So Gandalf gave a long shrill whistle,

and presently Thorin and Dori came roundthe house by the garden path and stoodbowing low before them.

“One or three you meant, I see!” saidBeorn. “But these aren’t hobbits, they aredwarves!”

“Thorin Oakenshield, at your service!Dori at your service!” said the twodwarves bowing again.

“I don’t need your service, thank you,”said Beorn, “but I expect you need mine. Iam not over fond of dwarves; but if it istrue you are Thorin (son of Thrain, son ofThror, I believe), and that your companionis respectable, and that you are enemies ofgoblins and are not up to any mischief inmy lands—what are you up to, by theway?”

“They are on their way to visit the landof their fathers, away east beyondMirkwood,” put in Gandalf, “and it isentirely an accident that we are in your

lands at all. We were crossing by the HighPass that should have brought us to theroad that lies to the south of your country,when we were attacked by the evilgoblins—as I was about to tell you.”

“Go on telling, then!” said Beorn, whowas never very polite.

“There was a terrible storm; the stone-giants were out hurling rocks, and at thehead of the pass we took refuge in a cave,the hobbit and I and several of ourcompanions...”

“Do you call two several?”“Well, no. As a matter of fact there

were more than two.”“Where are they? Killed, eaten, gone

home?” “Well, no. They don’t seem all tohave come when I whistled. Shy, I expect.You see, we are very much afraid that we

are rather a lot for you to entertain.”“Go on, whistle again! I am in for a

party, it seems, and one or two morewon’t make much difference,” growledBeorn.

Gandalf whistled again; but Nori andOri were there almost before he hadstopped, for, if you remember, Gandalfhad told them to come in pairs every fiveminutes.

“Hullo!” said Beorn. “You came prettyquick—where were you hiding? Come onmy jack-in-the-boxes!”

“Nori at your service, Ori at...” theybegan; but Beorn interrupted them.

“Thank you! When I want your help Iwill ask for it. Sit down, and let’s get onwith this tale, or it will be supper-timebefore it is ended.”

“As soon as we were asleep,” went onGandalf, “a crack at the back of the caveopened; goblins came out and grabbed thehobbit and the dwarves and our troop ofponies—”

“Troop of ponies? What were you—atravelling circus? Or were you carryinglots of goods? Or do you always call six atroop?”

“O no! As a matter of fact there weremore than six ponies, for there were morethan six of us—and well, here are twomore!” Just at that moment Balin andDwalin appeared and bowed so low thattheir beards swept the stone floor. The bigman was frowning at first, but they didtheir best to be frightfully polite, and kepton nodding and bending and bowing andwaving their hoods before their knees (in

proper dwarf-fashion), till he stoppedfrowning and burst into a chuckling laugh:they looked so comical.

“Troop, was right,” he said. “A finecomic one. Come in my merry men, andwhat are your names? I don’t want yourservice just now, only your names; andthen sit down and stop wagging!”

“Balin and Dwalin,” they said notdaring to be offended, and sat flop on thefloor looking rather surprised.

“Now go on again!” said Beorn to thewizard. “Where was I? O yes—I was notgrabbed. I killed a goblin or two with aflash—”

“Good!” growled Beorn. “It is somegood being a wizard, then.”

“—and slipped inside the crack beforeit closed. I followed down into the main

hall, which was crowded with goblins.The Great Goblin was there with thirty orforty armed guards. I thought to myself‘even if they were not all chainedtogether, what can a dozen do against somany?”’

“A dozen! That’s the first time I’veheard eight called a dozen. Or have youstill got some more jacks that haven’t yetcome out of their boxes?”

“Well, yes, there seem to be a couplemore here now—Fili and Kili, I believe,”said Gandalf, as these two now appearedand stood smiling and bowing.

“That’s enough!” said Beorn. “Sit downand be quiet! Now go on, Gandalf!”

So Gandalf went on with the tale, untilhe came to the fight in the dark, thediscovery of the lower gate, and their

horror when they found that Mr. Bagginshad been mislaid. “We counted ourselvesand found that there was no hobbit. Therewere only fourteen of us left!”

“Fourteen! That’s the first time I’veheard one from ten leave fourteen. Youmean nine, or else you haven’t told me yetall the names of your party.”

“Well, of course you haven’t seen Oinand Gloin yet. And, bless me! here theyare. I hope you will forgive them forbothering you.”

“O let ’em all come! Hurry up! Comealong, you two, and sit down! But lookhere, Gandalf, even now we have only gotyourself and ten dwarves and the hobbitthat was lost. That only makes eleven(plus one mislaid) and not fourteen, unlesswizards count differently to other people.

But now please get on with the tale.”Beorn did not show it more than he couldhelp, but really he had begun to get veryinterested. You see, in the old days he hadknown the very part of the mountains thatGandalf was describing. He nodded andhe growled, when he heard of the hobbit’sreappearance and of their scramble downthe stone-slide and of the wolf-ring in thewoods.

When Gandalf came to their climbinginto trees with the wolves all underneath,he got up and strode about and muttered:“I wish I had been there! I would havegiven them more than fireworks!”

“Well,” said Gandalf very glad to seethat his tale was making a goodimpression, “I did the best I could. Therewe were with the wolves going mad

underneath us and the forest beginning toblaze in places, when the goblins camedown from the hills and discovered us.They yelled with delight and sang songsmaking fun of us. Fifteen birds in five fir-trees ...”

“Good heavens!” growled Beorn.“Don’t pretend that goblins can’t count.They can. Twelve isn’t fifteen and theyknow it.”

“And so do I. There were Bifur andBofur as well. I haven’t ventured tointroduce them before, but here they are.”

In came Bifur and Bofur. “And me!”gasped Bombur puffing up behind. He wasfat, and also angry at being left till last. Herefused to wait five minutes, and followedimmediately after the other two.

“Well, now there are fifteen of you; and

since goblins can count, I suppose that isall that there were up the trees. Nowperhaps we can finish this story withoutany more interruptions.” Mr. Baggins sawthen how clever Gandalf had been. Theinterruptions had really made Beorn moreinterested in the story, and the story hadkept him from sending the dwarves off atonce like suspicious beggars. He neverinvited people into his house, if he couldhelp it. He had very few friends and theylived a good way away; and he neverinvited more than a couple of these to hishouse at a time. Now he had got fifteenstrangers sitting in his porch!

By the time the wizard had finished histale and had told of the eagles’ rescue andof how they had all been brought to theCarrock, the sun had fallen behind the

peaks of the Misty Mountains and theshadows were long in Beorn’s garden.

“A very good tale!” said he. “The best Ihave heard for a long while. If all beggarscould tell such a good one, they might findme kinder. You may be making it all up, ofcourse, but you deserve a supper for thestory all the same. Let’s have something toeat!”

“Yes please!” they all said together.“Thank you very much!”

Inside the hall it was now quite dark.Beorn clapped his hands, and in trottedfour beautiful white ponies and severallarge long-bodied grey dogs. Beorn saidsomething to them in a queer language like

animal noises turned into talk. They wentout again and soon came back carryingtorches in their mouths, which they lit atthe fire and stuck in low brackets on thepillars of the hall about the central hearth.The dogs could stand on their hind-legswhen they wished, and carry things withtheir fore-feet. Quickly they got out boardsand trestles from the side walls and setthem up near the fire.

Then baa—baa—baa! was heard, andin came some snow-white sheep led by alarge coal-black ram. One bore a whitecloth embroidered at the edges withfigures of animals; others bore on theirbroad backs trays with bowls and plattersand knives and wooden spoons, which thedogs took and quickly laid on the trestle-tables. These were very low, low enough

even for Bilbo to sit at comfortably.Beside them a pony pushed two low-seated benches with wide rush-bottomsand little short thick legs for Gandalf andThorin, while at the far end he put Beorn’sbig black chair of the same sort (in whichhe sat with his great legs stuck far outunder the table). These were all the chairshe had in his hall, and he probably hadthem low like the tables for theconvenience of the wonderful animals thatwaited on him. What did the rest sit on?They were not forgotten. The other poniescame in rolling round drum-shapedsections of logs, smoothed and polished,and low enough even for Bilbo; so soonthey were all seated at Beorn’s table, andthe hall had not seen such a gathering formany a year.

There they had a supper, or a dinner,such as they had not had since they left theLast Homely House in the West and saidgood-bye to Elrond. The light of thetorches and the fire flickered about them,and on the table were two tall redbeeswax candles. All the time they ate,Beorn in his deep rolling voice told talesof the wild lands on this side of themountains, and especially of the dark anddangerous wood, that lay outstretched farto North and South a day’s ride beforethem, barring their way to the East, theterrible forest of Mirkwood.

The dwarves listened and shook theirbeards, for they knew that they must soonventure into that forest and that after themountains it was the worst of the perilsthey had to pass before they came to the

dragon’s stronghold. When dinner wasover they began to tell tales of their own,but Beorn seemed to be growing drowsyand paid little heed to them. They spokemost of gold and silver and jewels and themaking of things by smith-craft, and Beorndid not appear to care for such things:there were no things of gold or silver inhis hall, and few save the knives weremade of metal at all.

They sat long at the table with theirwooden drinking-bowls filled with mead.The dark night came on outside. The firesin the middle of the hall were built withfresh logs and the torches were put out,and still they sat in the light of the dancingflames with the pillars of the housestanding tall behind them, and dark at thetop like trees of the forest. Whether it was

magic or not, it seemed to Bilbo that heheard a sound like wind in the branchesstirring in the rafters, and the hoot of owls.Soon he began to nod with sleep and thevoices seemed to grow far away, until hewoke with a start.

The great door had creaked andslammed. Beorn was gone. The dwarveswere sitting cross-legged on the floorround the fire, and presently they began tosing. Some of the verses were like this,but there were many more, and theirsinging went on for a long while:

The wind was on the withered heath,but in the forest stirred no leaf:there shadows lay by night and day,and dark things silent crept

beneath.

The wind came down frommountains cold,and like a tide it roared and rolled;the branches groaned, the forestmoaned,and leaves were laid upon themould.

The wind went on from West toEast;all movement in the forest ceased,but shrill and harsh across themarshits whistling voices were released.

The grasses hissed, their tasselsbent,the reeds were rattling—on it wento’er shaken pool under heavenscoolwhere racing clouds were torn andrent.

It passed the lonely Mountain bareand swept above the dragon’s lair:there black and dark lay bouldersstarkand flying smoke was in the air.

It left the world and took its flightover the wide seas of the night.The moon set sail upon the gale,

and stars were fanned to leapinglight.

Bilbo began to nod again. Suddenly upstood Gandalf.

“It is time for us to sleep,” he said, “—for us, but not I think for Beorn. In this hallwe can rest sound and safe, but I warn youall not to forget what Beorn said before heleft us: you must not stray outside until thesun is up, on your peril.”

Bilbo found that beds had already beenlaid at the side of the hall, on a sort ofraised platform between the pillars andthe outer wall. For him there was a littlemattress of straw and woollen blankets.He snuggled into them very gladly,summertime though it was. The fire burned

low and he fell asleep. Yet in the night hewoke: the fire had now sunk to a fewembers; the dwarves and Gandalf were allasleep, to judge by their breathing; asplash of white on the floor came from thehigh moon, which was peering downthrough the smoke-hole in the roof.

There was a growling sound outside,and a noise as of some great animalscuffling at the door. Bilbo wonderedwhat it was, and whether it could beBeorn in enchanted shape, and if he wouldcome in as a bear and kill them. He divedunder the blankets and hid his head, andfell asleep again at last in spite of hisfears.

It was full morning when he awoke. Oneof the dwarves had fallen over him in theshadows where he lay, and had rolleddown with a bump from the platform on tothe floor. It was Bofur, and he wasgrumbling about it, when Bilbo opened hiseyes.

“Get up lazybones,” he said, “or therewill be no breakfast left for you.”

Up jumped Bilbo. “Breakfast!” hecried. “Where is breakfast?”

“Mostly inside us,” answered the otherdwarves who were moving about the hall;“but what is left is out on the veranda. Wehave been about looking for Beorn eversince the sun got up; but there is no sign ofhim anywhere, though we found breakfastlaid as soon as we went out.”

“Where is Gandalf?” asked Bilbo,

moving off to find something to eat asquick as he could.

“O! out and about somewhere,” theytold him. But he saw no sign of the wizardall that day until the evening. Just beforesunset he walked into the hall, where thehobbit and the dwarves were havingsupper, waited on by Beorn’s wonderfulanimals, as they had been all day. OfBeorn they had seen and heard nothingsince the night before, and they weregetting puzzled.

“Where is our host, and where have youbeen all day yourself?” they all cried.

“One question at a time—and none tillafter supper! I haven’t had a bite sincebreakfast.”

At last Gandalf pushed away his plateand jug—he had eaten two whole loaves

(with masses of butter and honey andclotted cream) and drunk at least a quartof mead—and he took out his pipe. “I willanswer the second question first,” he said,“—but bless me! this is a splendid placefor smoke rings!” Indeed for a long timethey could get nothing more out of him, hewas so busy sending smoke rings dodginground the pillars of the hall, changing theminto all sorts of different shapes andcolours, and setting them at last chasingone another out of the hole in the roof.They must have looked very queer fromoutside, popping out into the air one afteranother, green, blue, red, silver-grey,yellow, white; big ones, little ones; littleones dodging through big ones and joininginto figure-eights, and going off like aflock of birds into the distance.

“I have been picking out bear-tracks,”he said at last. “There must have been aregular bears’ meeting outside here lastnight. I soon saw that Beorn could nothave made them all: there were far toomany of them, and they were of varioussizes too. I should say there were littlebears, large bears, ordinary bears, andgigantic big bears, all dancing outsidefrom dark to nearly dawn. They came fromalmost every direction, except from thewest over the river, from the Mountains.In that direction only one set of footprintsled—none coming, only ones going awayfrom here. I followed these as far as theCarrock. There they disappeared into theriver, but the water was too deep andstrong beyond the rock for me to cross. Itis easy enough, as you remember, to get

from this bank to the Carrock by the ford,but on the other side is a cliff standing upfrom a swirling channel. I had to walkmiles before I found a place where theriver was wide and shallow enough forme to wade and swim, and then milesback again to pick up the tracks again. Bythat time it was too late for me to followthem far. They went straight off in thedirection of the pine-woods on the eastside of the Misty Mountains, where wehad our pleasant little party with theWargs the night before last. And now Ithink I have answered your first question,too,” ended Gandalf, and he sat a longwhile silent.

Bilbo thought he knew what the wizardmeant. “What shall we do,” he cried, “ifhe leads all the Wargs and the goblins

down here? We shall all be caught andkilled! I thought you said he was not afriend of theirs.”

“So I did. And don’t be silly! You hadbetter go to bed, your wits are sleepy.”

The hobbit felt quite crushed, and asthere seemed nothing else to do he did goto bed; and while the dwarves were stillsinging songs he dropped asleep, stillpuzzling his little head about Beorn, till hedreamed a dream of hundreds of blackbears dancing slow heavy dances roundand round in the moonlight in thecourtyard. Then he woke up wheneveryone else was asleep, and he heardthe same scraping, scuffling, snuffling, andgrowling as before.

Next morning they were all wakened byBeorn himself. “So here you all are still!”

he said. He picked up the hobbit andlaughed: “Not eaten up by Wargs orgoblins or wicked bears yet I see”; and hepoked Mr. Baggins’ waistcoat mostdisrespectfully. “Little bunny is gettingnice and fat again on bread and honey,” hechuckled. “Come and have some more!”

So they all went to breakfast with him.Beorn was most jolly for a change; indeedhe seemed to be in a splendidly goodhumour and set them all laughing with hisfunny stories; nor did they have to wonderlong where he had been or why he was sonice to them, for he told them himself. Hehad been over the river and right back upinto the mountains—from which you canguess that he could travel quickly, inbear’s shape at any rate. From the burntwolf-glade he had soon found out that part

of their story was true; but he had foundmore than that: he had caught a Warg and agoblin wandering in the woods. Fromthese he had got news: the goblin patrolswere still hunting with Wargs for thedwarves, and they were fiercely angrybecause of the death of the Great Goblin,and also because of the burning of thechief wolf’s nose and the death from thewizard’s fire of many of his chiefservants. So much they told him when heforced them, but he guessed there wasmore wickedness than this afoot, and thata great raid of the whole goblin army withtheir wolf-allies into the lands shadowedby the mountains might soon be made tofind the dwarves, or to take vengeance onthe men and creatures that lived there, andwho they thought must be sheltering them.

“It was a good story, that of yours,”said Beorn, “but I like it still better now Iam sure it is true. You must forgive my nottaking your word. If you lived near theedge of Mirkwood, you would take theword of no one that you did not know aswell as your brother or better. As it is, Ican only say that I have hurried home asfast as I could to see that you were safe,and to offer you any help that I can. I shallthink more kindly of dwarves after this.Killed the Great Goblin, killed the GreatGoblin!” he chuckled fiercely to himself.

“What did you do with the goblin andthe Warg?” asked Bilbo suddenly.

“Come and see!” said Beorn, and theyfollowed round the house. A goblin’s headwas stuck outside the gate and a warg-skinwas nailed to a tree just beyond. Beorn

was a fierce enemy. But now he was theirfriend, and Gandalf thought it wise to tellhim their whole story and the reason oftheir journey, so that they could get themost help he could offer.

This is what he promised to do forthem. He would provide ponies for eachof them, and a horse for Gandalf, for theirjourney to the forest, and he would ladethem with food to last them for weeks withcare, and packed so as to be as easy aspossible to carry—nuts, flour, sealed jarsof dried fruits, and red earthenware potsof honey, and twice-baked cakes thatwould keep good a long time, and on alittle of which they could march far. Themaking of these was one of his secrets; buthoney was in them, as in most of hisfoods, and they were good to eat, though

they made one thirsty. Water, he said, theywould not need to carry this side of theforest, for there were streams and springsalong the road. “But your way throughMirkwood is dark, dangerous anddifficult,” he said. “Water is not easy tofind there, nor food. The time is not yetcome for nuts (though it may be past andgone indeed before you get to the otherside), and nuts are about all that growsthere fit for food; in there the wild thingsare dark, queer, and savage. I willprovide you with skins for carrying water,and I will give you some bows andarrows. But I doubt very much whetheranything you find in Mirkwood will bewholesome to eat or to drink. There is onestream there, I know, black and strongwhich crosses the path. That you should

neither drink of, nor bathe in; for I haveheard that it carries enchantment and agreat drowsiness and forgetfulness. And inthe dim shadows of that place I don’t thinkyou will shoot anything, wholesome orunwholesome, without straying from thepath. That you MUST NOT do, for anyreason.

“That is all the advice I can give you.Beyond the edge of the forest I cannot helpyou much; you must depend on your luckand your courage and the food I send withyou. At the gate of the forest I must askyou to send back my horse and my ponies.But I wish you all speed, and my house isopen to you, if ever you come back thisway again.”

They thanked him, of course, with manybows and sweepings of their hoods andwith many an “at your service, O masterof the wide wooden halls!” But theirspirits sank at his grave words, and theyall felt that the adventure was far moredangerous than they had thought, while allthe time, even if they passed all the perilsof the road, the dragon was waiting at theend.

All that morning they were busy withpreparations. Soon after midday they atewith Beorn for the last time, and after themeal they mounted the steeds he waslending them, and bidding him manyfarewells they rode off through his gate ata good pace.

As soon as they left his high hedges atthe east of his fenced lands they turned

north and then bore to the north-west. Byhis advice they were no longer making forthe main forest-road to the south of hisland. Had they followed the pass, theirpath would have led them down a streamfrom the mountains that joined the greatriver miles south of the Carrock. At thatpoint there was a deep ford which theymight have passed, if they had still hadtheir ponies, and beyond that a track led tothe skirts of the wood and to the entranceof the old forest road. But Beorn hadwarned them that that way was now oftenused by the goblins, while the forest-roaditself, he had heard, was overgrown anddisused at the eastern end and led toimpassable marshes where the paths hadlong been lost. Its eastern opening hadalso always been far to the south of the

Lonely Mountain, and would have leftthem still with a long and difficultnorthward march when they got to theother side. North of the Carrock the edgeof Mirkwood drew closer to the bordersof the Great River, and though here theMountains too drew down nearer, Beornadvised them to take this way; for at aplace a few days’ ride due north of theCarrock was the gate of a little-knownpathway through Mirkwood that ledalmost straight towards the LonelyMountain.

“The goblins,” Beorn had said, “willnot dare to cross the Great River for ahundred miles north of the Carrock nor tocome near my house—it is well protectedat night!—but I should ride fast; for if theymake their raid soon they will cross the

river to the south and scour all the edge ofthe forest so as to cut you off, and Wargsrun swifter than ponies. Still you are safergoing north, even though you seem to begoing back nearer to their strongholds; forthat is what they will least expect, andthey will have the longer ride to catch you.Be off now as quick as you may!”

That is why they were now riding insilence, galloping wherever the groundwas grassy and smooth, with themountains dark on their left, and in thedistance the line of the river with its treesdrawing ever closer. The sun had only justturned west when they started, and tillevening it lay golden on the land aboutthem. It was difficult to think of pursuinggoblins behind, and when they had putmany miles between them and Beorn’s

house they began to talk and to sing againand to forget the dark forest-path that layin front. But in the evening when the duskcame on and the peaks of the mountainsglowered against the sunset they made acamp and set a guard, and most of themslept uneasily with dreams in which therecame the howl of hunting wolves and thecries of goblins.

Still the next morning dawned brightand fair again. There was an autumn-likemist white upon the ground and the airwas chill, but soon the sun rose red in theEast and the mists vanished, and while theshadows were still long they were offagain. So they rode now for two moredays, and all the while they saw nothingsave grass and flowers and birds andscattered trees, and occasionally small

herds of red deer browsing or sitting atnoon in the shade. Sometimes Bilbo sawthe horns of the harts sticking up out of thelong grass, and at first he thought theywere the dead branches of trees. Thatthird evening they were so eager to presson, for Beorn had said that they shouldreach the forest-gate early on the fourth-day, that they rode still forward after duskand into the night beneath the moon. As thelight faded Bilbo thought he saw away tothe right, or to the left, the shadowy formof a great bear prowling along in the samedirection. But if he dared to mention it toGandalf, the wizard only said: “Hush!Take no notice!”

Next day they started before dawn,though their night had been short. As soonas it was light they could see the forest

coming as it were to meet them, or waitingfor them like a black and frowning wallbefore them. The land began to slope upand up, and it seemed to the hobbit that asilence began to draw in upon them. Birdsbegan to sing less. There were no moredeer; not even rabbits were to be seen. Bythe afternoon they had reached the eavesof Mirkwood, and were resting almostbeneath the great overhanging boughs ofits outer trees. Their trunks were huge andgnarled, their branches twisted, theirleaves were dark and long. Ivy grew onthem and trailed along the ground.

“Well, here is Mirkwood!” saidGandalf. “The greatest of the forests of theNorthern world. I hope you like the lookof it. Now you must send back theseexcellent ponies you have borrowed.”

The dwarves were inclined to grumbleat this, but the wizard told them they werefools. “Beorn is not as far off as you seemto think, and you had better keep yourpromises anyway, for he is a bad enemy.Mr. Baggins’ eyes are sharper than yours,if you have not seen each night after dark agreat bear going along with us or sittingfar off in the moon watching our camps.Not only to guard you and guide you, butto keep an eye on the ponies too. Beornmay be your friend, but he loves hisanimals as his children. You do not guesswhat kindness he has shown you in lettingdwarves ride them so far and so fast, norwhat would happen to you, if you tried totake them into the forest.”

“What about the horse, then?” saidThorin. “You don’t mention sending that

back.”“I don’t, because I am not sending it.”“What about your promise then?”“I will look after that. I am not sending

the horse back, I am riding it!”Then they knew that Gandalf was going

to leave them at the very edge ofMirkwood, and they were in despair. Butnothing they could say would change hismind.

“Now we had this all out before, whenwe landed on the Carrock,” he said. “It isno use arguing. I have, as I told you, somepressing business away south; and I amalready late through bothering with youpeople. We may meet again before all isover, and then again of course we may not.That depends on your luck and on yourcourage and sense; and I am sending Mr.

Baggins with you. I have told you beforethat he has more about him than you guess,and you will find that out before long. Socheer up Bilbo and don’t look so glum.Cheer up Thorin and Company! This isyour expedition after all. Think of thetreasure at the end, and forget the forestand the dragon, at any rate until tomorrowmorning!”

When tomorrow morning came he stillsaid the same. So now there was nothingleft to do but to fill their water-skins at aclear spring they found close to the forest-gate, and unpack the ponies. Theydistributed the packages as fairly as theycould, though Bilbo thought his lot waswearisomely heavy, and did not at all likethe idea of trudging for miles and mileswith all that on his back.

“Don’t you worry!” said Thorin. “Itwill get lighter all too soon. Before long Iexpect we shall all wish our packsheavier, when the food begins to runshort.”

Then at last they said good-bye to theirponies and turned their heads for home.Off they trotted gaily, seeming very glad toput their tails towards the shadow ofMirkwood. As they went away Bilbocould have sworn that a thing like a bearleft the shadow of the trees and shambledoff quickly after them.

Now Gandalf too said farewell. Bilbosat on the ground feeling very unhappy andwishing he was beside the wizard on histall horse. He had gone just inside theforest after breakfast (a very poor one),and it had seemed as dark in there in the

morning as at night, and very secret: “asort of watching and waiting feeling,” hesaid to himself.

“Good-bye!” said Gandalf to Thorin.“And goodbye to you all, good-bye!Straight through the forest is your waynow. Don’t stray off the track!—if you do,it is a thousand to one you will never findit again and never get out of Mirkwood;and then I don’t suppose I, or any one else,will ever see you again.”

“Do we really have to go through?”groaned the hobbit.

“Yes, you do!” said the wizard, “if youwant to get to the other side. You musteither go through or give up your quest.And I am not going to allow you to backout now, Mr. Baggins. I am ashamed ofyou for thinking of it. You have got to look

after all these dwarves for me,” helaughed.

“No! no!” said Bilbo. “I didn’t meanthat. I meant, is there no way round?”

“There is, if you care to go two hundredmiles or so out of your way north, andtwice that south. But you wouldn’t get asafe path even then. There are no safepaths in this part of the world. Rememberyou are over the Edge of the Wild now,and in for all sorts of fun wherever yougo. Before you could get round Mirkwoodin the North you would be right among theslopes of the Grey Mountains, and they aresimply stiff with goblins, hobgoblins, andorcs of the worst description. Before youcould get round it in the South, you wouldget into the land of the Necromancer; andeven you, Bilbo, won’t need me to tell you

tales of that black sorcerer. I don’t adviseyou to go anywhere near the placesoverlooked by his dark tower! Stick to theforest-track, keep your spirits up, hope forthe best, and with a tremendous slice ofluck you may come out one day and seethe Long

Marshes lying below you, and beyondthem, high in the East, the LonelyMountain where dear old Smaug lives,though I hope he is not expecting you.”

“Very comforting you are to be sure,”growled Thorin. “Good-bye! If you won’tcome with us, you had better get offwithout any more talk!”

“Good-bye then, and really good-bye!”said Gandalf, and he turned his horse androde down into the West. But he could notresist the temptation to have the last word.

Before he had passed quite out of hearinghe turned and put his hands to his mouthand called to them. They heard his voicecome faintly: “Good-bye! Be good, takecare of yourselves—and DON’T LEAVETHE PATH!”

Then he galloped away and was soonlost to sight. “O good-bye and go away!”grunted the dwarves, all the more angrybecause they were really filled withdismay at losing him. Now began the mostdangerous part of all the journey. Theyeach shouldered the heavy pack and thewater-skin which was their share, andturned from the light that lay on the landsoutside and plunged into the forest.

Chapter VIII

FLIES AND SPIDERS

They walked in single file. The entranceto the path was like a sort of arch leadinginto a gloomy tunnel made by two greattrees that leant together, too old andstrangled with ivy and hung with lichen tobear more than a few blackened leaves.The path itself was narrow and wound inand out among the trunks. Soon the light atthe gate was like a little bright hole farbehind, and the quiet was so deep thattheir feet seemed to thump along while allthe trees leaned over them and listened.

As their eyes became used to thedimness they could see a little way toeither side in a sort of darkened greenglimmer. Occasionally a slender beam ofsun that had the luck to slip in throughsome opening in the leaves far above, andstill more luck in not being caught in thetangled boughs and matted twigs beneath,stabbed down thin and bright before them.But this was seldom, and it soon ceasedaltogether.

There were black squirrels in thewood. As Bilbo’s sharp inquisitive eyesgot used to seeing things he could catchglimpses of them whisking off the path andscuttling behind tree-trunks. There werequeer noises too, grunts, scufflings, andhurryings in the undergrowth, and amongthe leaves that lay piled endlessly thick in

places on the forest-floor; but what madethe noises he could not see. The nastiestthings they saw were the cobwebs: darkdense cobwebs with threadsextraordinarily thick, often stretched fromtree to tree, or tangled in the lowerbranches on either side of them. Therewere none stretched across the path, butwhether because some magic kept it clear,or for what other reason they could notguess.

It was not long before they grew to hatethe forest as heartily as they had hated thetunnels of the goblins, and it seemed tooffer even less hope of any ending. Butthey had to go on and on, long after theywere sick for a sight of the sun and of thesky, and longed for the feel of wind ontheir faces. There was no movement of air

down under the forest-roof, and it waseverlastingly still and dark and stuffy.Even the dwarves felt it, who were usedto tunnelling, and lived at times for longwhiles without the light of the sun; but thehobbit, who liked holes to make a house inbut not to spend summer days in, felt thathe was being slowly suffocated.

The nights were the worst. It thenbecame pitch-dark—not what you callpitch-dark, but really pitch: so black thatyou really could see nothing. Bilbo triedflapping his hand in front of his nose, buthe could not see it at all. Well, perhaps itis not true to say that they could seenothing: they could see eyes. They sleptall closely huddled together, and took it inturns to watch; and when it was Bilbo’sturn he would see gleams in the darkness

round them, and sometimes pairs ofyellow or red or green eyes would stare athim from a little distance, and then slowlyfade and disappear and slowly shine outagain in another place. And sometimesthey would gleam down from the branchesjust above him; and that was mostterrifying. But the eyes that he liked theleast were horrible pale bulbous sort ofeyes. “Insect eyes,” he thought, “notanimal eyes, only they are much too big.”

Although it was not yet very cold, theytried lighting watch-fires at night, but theysoon gave that up. It seemed to bringhundreds and hundreds of eyes all roundthem, though the creatures, whatever theywere, were careful never to let theirbodies show in the little flicker of theflames. Worse still it brought thousands of

dark-grey and black moths, some nearly asbig as your hand, flapping and whirringround their ears. They could not stand that,nor the huge bats, black as a top-hat,either; so they gave up fires and sat atnight and dozed in the enormous uncannydarkness.

All this went on for what seemed to thehobbit ages upon ages; and he was alwayshungry, for they were extremely carefulwith their provisions. Even so, as daysfollowed days, and still the forest seemedjust the same, they began to get anxious.The food would not last for ever: it was infact already beginning to get low. Theytried shooting at the squirrels, and theywasted many arrows before they managedto bring one down on the path. But whenthey roasted it, it proved horrible to taste,

and they shot no more squirrels.They were thirsty too, for they had none

too much water, and in all the time theyhad seen neither spring nor stream. Thiswas their state when one day they foundtheir path blocked by a running water. Itflowed fast and strong but not very wideright across the way, and it was black, orlooked it in the gloom. It was well thatBeorn had warned them against it, or theywould have drunk from it, whatever itscolour, and filled some of their emptiedskins at its bank. As it was they onlythought of how to cross it without wettingthemselves in its water. There had been abridge of wood across, but it had rottedand fallen leaving only the broken postsnear the bank.

Bilbo kneeling on the brink and peering

forward cried: “There is a boat against thefar bank! Now why couldn’t it have beenthis side!”

“How far away do you think it is?”asked Thorin, for by now they knew Bilbohad the sharpest eyes among them.

“Not at all far. I shouldn’t think abovetwelve yards.”

“Twelve yards! I should have thought itwas thirty at least, but my eyes don’t seeas well as they used a hundred years ago.Still twelve yards is as good as a mile.We can’t jump it, and we daren’t try towade or swim.”

“Can any of you throw a rope?”“What’s the good of that? The boat is

sure to be tied up, even if we could hookit, which I doubt.”

“I don’t believe it is tied,” said Bilbo,

“though of course I can’t be sure in thislight; but it looks to me as if it was justdrawn up on the bank, which is low justthere where the path goes down into thewater.”

“Dori is the strongest, but Fili is theyoungest and still has the best sight,” saidThorin. “Come here Fili, and see if youcan see the boat Mr. Baggins is talkingabout.”

Fili thought he could; so when he hadstared a long while to get an idea of thedirection, the others brought him a rope.They had several with them, and on theend of the longest they fastened one of thelarge iron hooks they had used forcatching their packs to the straps abouttheir shoulders. Fili took this in his hand,balanced it for a moment, and then flung it

across the stream.Splash it fell in the water! “Not far

enough!” said Bilbo who was peeringforward. “A couple of feet and you wouldhave dropped it on to the boat. Try again. Idon’t suppose the magic is strong enoughto hurt you, if you just touch a bit of wetrope.”

Fili picked up the hook when he haddrawn it back, rather doubtfully all thesame. This time he threw it with greatstrength.

“Steady!” said Bilbo, “you have thrownit right into the wood on the other sidenow. Draw it back gently.” Fili hauled therope back slowly, and after a while Bilbosaid: “Carefully! It is lying on the boat;let’s hope the hook will catch.”

It did. The rope went taut, and Fili

pulled in vain. Kili came to his help, andthen Oin and Gloin. They tugged andtugged, and suddenly they all fell over ontheir backs. Bilbo was on the look out,however, caught the rope, and with apiece of stick fended off the little blackboat as it came rushing across the stream.“Help!” he shouted, and Balin was just intime to seize the boat before it floated offdown the current.

“It was tied after all,” said he, lookingat the snapped painter that was stilldangling from it. “That was a good pull,my lads; and a good job that our rope wasthe stronger.”

“Who’ll cross first?” asked Bilbo.“I shall,” said Thorin, “and you will

come with me, and Fili and Balin. That’sas many as the boat will hold at a time.

After that Kili and Oin and Gloin andDori; next Ori and Nori, Bifur and Bofur;and last Dwalin and Bombur.”

“I’m always last and I don’t like it,”said Bombur. “It’s somebody else’s turntoday.”

“You should not be so fat. As you are,you must be with the last and lightestboatload. Don’t start grumbling againstorders, or something bad will happen toyou.”

“There aren’t any oars. How are yougoing to push the boat back to the farbank?” asked the hobbit.

“Give me another length of rope andanother hook,” said Fili, and when theyhad got it ready, he cast it into thedarkness ahead and as high as he couldthrow it. Since it did not fall down again,

they saw that it must have stuck in thebranches. “Get in now,” said Fili, “andone of you haul on the rope that is stuck ina tree on the other side. One of the othersmust keep hold of the hook we used atfirst, and when we are safe on the otherside he can hook it on, and you can drawthe boat back.”

In this way they were all soon on the farbank safe across the enchanted stream.Dwalin had just scrambled out with thecoiled rope on his arm, and Bombur (stillgrumbling) was getting ready to follow,when something bad did happen. Therewas a flying sound of hooves on the pathahead. Out of the gloom came suddenly theshape of a flying deer. It charged into thedwarves and bowled them over, thengathered itself for a leap. High it sprang

and cleared the water with a mighty jump.But it did not reach the other side insafety. Thorin was the only one who hadkept his feet and his wits. As soon as theyhad landed he had bent his bow and fittedan arrow in case any hidden guardian ofthe boat appeared. Now he sent a swiftand sure shot into the leaping beast. As itreached the further bank it stumbled. Theshadows swallowed it up, but they heardthe sound of hooves quickly falter and thengo still.

Before they could shout in praise of theshot, however, a dreadful wail from Bilboput all thoughts of venison out of theirminds. “Bombur has fallen in! Bombur isdrowning!” he cried. It was only too true.Bombur had only one foot on the landwhen the hart bore down on him, and

sprang over him. He had stumbled,thrusting the boat away from the bank, andthen toppled back into the dark water, hishands slipping off the slimy roots at theedge, while the boat span slowly off anddisappeared.

They could still see his hood above thewater when they ran to the bank. Quickly,they flung a rope with a hook towards him.His hand caught it, and they pulled him tothe shore. He was drenched from hair toboots, of course, but that was not theworst. When they laid him on the bank hewas already fast asleep, with one handclutching the rope so tight that they couldnot get it from his grasp; and fast asleep heremained in spite of all they could do.

They were still standing over him,cursing their ill luck, and Bombur’s

clumsiness, and lamenting the loss of theboat which made it impossible for them togo back and look for the hart, when theybecame aware of the dim blowing ofhorns in the wood and the sound as ofdogs baying far off. Then they all fellsilent; and as they sat it seemed they couldhear the noise of a great hunt going by tothe north of the path, though they saw nosign of it.

There they sat for a long while and didnot dare to make a move. Bombur slept onwith a smile on his fat face, as if he nolonger cared for all the troubles that vexedthem. Suddenly on the path aheadappeared some white deer, a hind andfawns as snowy white as the hart had beendark. They glimmered in the shadows.Before Thorin could cry out three of the

dwarves had leaped to their feet andloosed off arrows from their bows. Noneseemed to find their mark. The deer turnedand vanished in the trees as silently asthey had come, and in vain the dwarvesshot their arrows after them.

“Stop! stop!” shouted Thorin; but it wastoo late, the excited dwarves had wastedtheir last arrows, and now the bows thatBeorn had given them were useless.

They were a gloomy party that night,and the gloom gathered still deeper onthem in the following days. They hadcrossed the enchanted stream; but beyondit the path seemed to straggle on just asbefore, and in the forest they could see nochange. Yet if they had known more aboutit and considered the meaning of the huntand the white deer that had appeared upon

their path, they would have known thatthey were at last drawing towards theeastern edge, and would soon have come,if they could have kept up their courageand their hope, to thinner trees and placeswhere the sunlight came again.

But they did not know this, and theywere burdened with the heavy body ofBombur, which they had to carry alongwith them as best they could, taking thewearisome task in turns of four each whilethe others shared their packs. If these hadnot become all too light in the last fewdays, they would never have managed it;but a slumbering and smiling Bombur wasa poor exchange for packs filled with foodhowever heavy. In a few days a time camewhen there was practically nothing left toeat or to drink. Nothing wholesome could

they see growing in the wood, onlyfunguses and herbs with pale leaves andunpleasant smell.

About four days from the enchantedstream they came to a part where most ofthe trees were beeches. They were at firstinclined to be cheered by the change, forhere there was no undergrowth and theshadow was not so deep. There was agreenish light about them, and in placesthey could see some distance to either sideof the path. Yet the light only showed themendless lines of straight grey trunks likethe pillars of some huge twilight hall.There was a breath of air and a noise ofwind, but it had a sad sound. A few leavescame rustling down to remind them thatoutside autumn was coming on. Their feetruffled among the dead leaves of countless

other autumns that drifted over the banksof the path from the deep red carpets ofthe forest.

Still Bombur slept and they grew veryweary. At times they heard disquietinglaughter. Sometimes there was singing inthe distance too. The laughter was thelaughter of fair voices not of goblins, andthe singing was beautiful, but it soundedeerie and strange, and they were notcomforted, rather they hurried on fromthose parts with what strength they hadleft.

Two days later they found their pathgoing downwards, and before long theywere in a valley filled almost entirelywith a mighty growth of oaks.

“Is there no end to this accursedforest?” said Thorin. “Somebody must

climb a tree and see if he can get his headabove the roof and have a look round. Theonly way is to choose the tallest tree thatoverhangs the path.”

Of course “somebody” meant Bilbo.They chose him, because to be of any usethe climber must get his head above thetopmost leaves, and so he must be lightenough for the highest and slenderestbranches to bear him. Poor Mr. Bagginshad never had much practice in climbingtrees, but they hoisted him up into thelowest branches of an enormous oak thatgrew right out into the path, and up he hadto go as best he could. He pushed his waythrough the tangled twigs with many a slapin the eye; he was greened and grimedfrom the old bark of the greater boughs;more than once he slipped and caught

himself just in time; and at last, after adreadful struggle in a difficult placewhere there seemed to be no convenientbranches at all, he got near the top. All thetime he was wondering whether therewere spiders in the tree, and how he wasgoing to get down again (except byfalling).

In the end he poked his head above theroof of leaves, and then he found spidersall right. But they were only small ones ofordinary size, and they were after thebutterflies. Bilbo’s eyes were nearlyblinded by the light. He could hear thedwarves shouting up at him from farbelow, but he could not answer, only holdon and blink. The sun was shiningbrilliantly, and it was a long while beforehe could bear it. When he could, he saw

all round him a sea of dark green, ruffledhere and there by the breeze; and therewere everywhere hundreds of butterflies. Iexpect they were a kind of “purpleemperor”, a butterfly that loves the tops ofoak-woods, but these were not purple atall, they were a dark dark velvety blackwithout any markings to be seen.

He looked at the “black emperors” for along time, and enjoyed the feel of thebreeze in his hair and on his face; but atlength the cries of the dwarves, who werenow simply stamping with impatiencedown below, reminded him of his realbusiness. It was no good. Gaze as much ashe might, he could see no end to the treesand the leaves in any direction. His heart,that had been lightened by the sight of thesun and the feel of the wind, sank back

into his toes: there was no food to go backto down below.

Actually, as I have told you, they werenot far off the edge of the forest; and ifBilbo had had the sense to see it, the treethat he had climbed, though it was tall initself, was standing near the bottom of awide valley, so that from its top the treesseemed to swell up all round like theedges of a great bowl, and he could notexpect to see how far the forest lasted.Still he did not see this, and he climbeddown full of despair. He got to the bottomagain at last, scratched, hot, andmiserable, and he could not see anythingin the gloom below when he got there. Hisreport soon made the others as miserableas he was.

“The forest goes on for ever and ever

and ever in all directions! Whatever shallwe do? And what is the use of sending ahobbit!” they cried, as if it was his fault.They did not care tuppence about thebutterflies, and were only made moreangry when he told them of the beautifulbreeze, which they were too heavy toclimb up and feel.

That night they ate their very last scrapsand crumbs of food; and next morningwhen they woke the first thing they noticedwas that they were still gnawingly hungry,and the next thing was that it was rainingand that here and there the drip of it wasdropping heavily on the forest floor. Thatonly reminded them that they were also

parchingly thirsty, without doing anythingto relieve them: you cannot quench aterrible thirst by standing under giant oaksand waiting for a chance drip to fall onyour tongue. The only scrap of comfortthere was came unexpectedly fromBombur.

He woke up suddenly and sat upscratching his head. He could not make outwhere he was at all, nor why he felt sohungry; for he had forgotten everything thathad happened since they started theirjourney that May morning long ago. Thelast thing that he remembered was theparty at the hobbit’s house, and they hadgreat difficulty in making him believe theirtale of all the many adventures they hadhad since.

When he heard that there was nothing to

eat, he sat down and wept, for he felt veryweak and wobbly in the legs. “Why everdid I wake up!” he cried. “I was havingsuch beautiful dreams. I dreamed I waswalking in a forest rather like this one,only lit with torches on the trees andlamps swinging from the branches andfires burning on the ground; and there wasa great feast going on, going on for ever. Awoodland king was there with a crown ofleaves, and there was a merry singing, andI could not count or describe the thingsthere were to eat and drink.”

“You need not try,” said Thorin. “Infact if you can’t talk about something else,you had better be silent. We are quiteannoyed enough with you as it is. If youhadn’t waked up, we should have left youto your idiotic dreams in the forest; you

are no joke to carry even after weeks ofshort commons.”

There was nothing now to be done butto tighten the belts round their emptystomachs, and hoist their empty sacks andpacks, and trudge along the track withoutany great hope of ever getting to the endbefore they lay down and died ofstarvation. This they did all that day, goingvery slowly and wearily; while Bomburkept on wailing that his legs would notcarry him and that he wanted to lie downand sleep.

“No you don’t!” they said. “Let yourlegs take their share, we have carried youfar enough.”

All the same he suddenly refused to goa step further and flung himself on theground. “Go on, if you must,” he said.

“I’m just going to lie here and sleep anddream of food, if I can’t get it any otherway. I hope I never wake up again.”

At that very moment Balin, who was alittle way ahead, called out: “What wasthat? I thought I saw a twinkle of light inthe forest.”

They all looked, and a longish way off,it seemed, they saw a red twinkle in thedark; then another and another sprang outbeside it. Even Bombur got up, and theyhurried along then, not caring if it wastrolls or goblins. The light was in front ofthem and to the left of the path, and whenat last they had drawn level with it, itseemed plain that torches and fires wereburning under the trees, but a good way offtheir track.

“It looks as if my dreams were coming

true,” gasped Bombur puffing up behind.He wanted to rush straight off into thewood after the lights. But the othersremembered only too well the warnings ofthe wizard and of Beorn.

“A feast would be no good, if we nevergot back alive from it,” said Thorin.

“But without a feast we shan’t remainalive much longer anyway,” said Bombur,and Bilbo heartily agreed with him. Theyargued about it backwards and forwardsfor a long while, until they agreed atlength to send out a couple of spies, tocreep near the lights and find out moreabout them. But then they could not agreeon who was to be sent: no one seemedanxious to run the chance of being lost andnever finding his friends again. In the end,in spite of warnings, hunger decided them,

because Bombur kept on describing all thegood things that were being eaten,according to his dream, in the woodlandfeast; so they all left the path and plungedinto the forest together.

After a good deal of creeping andcrawling they peered round the trunks andlooked into a clearing where some treeshad been felled and the ground levelled.There were many people there, elvish-looking folk, all dressed in green andbrown and sitting on sawn rings of thefelled trees in a great circle. There was afire in their midst and there were torchesfastened to some of the trees round about;but most splendid sight of all: they wereeating and drinking and laughing merrily.

The smell of the roast meats was soenchanting that, without waiting to consult

one another, every one of them got up andscrambled forwards into the ring with theone idea of begging for some food. Nosooner had the first stepped into theclearing than all the lights went out as ifby magic. Somebody kicked the fire and itwent up in rockets of glittering sparks andvanished. They were lost in a completelylightless dark and they could not even findone another, not for a long time at any rate.After blundering frantically in the gloom,falling over logs, bumping crash intotrees, and shouting and calling till theymust have waked everything in the forestfor miles, at last they managed to gatherthemselves in a bundle and countthemselves by touch. By that time theyhad, of course, quite forgotten in whatdirection the path lay, and they were all

hopelessly lost, at least till morning.There was nothing for it but to settle

down for the night where they were; theydid not even dare to search on the groundfor scraps of food for fear of becomingseparated again. But they had not beenlying long, and Bilbo was only just gettingdrowsy, when Dori, whose turn it was towatch first, said in a loud whisper:

“The lights are coming out again overthere, and there are more than ever ofthem.”

Up they all jumped. There, sure enough,not far away were scores of twinklinglights, and they heard the voices and thelaughter quite plainly. They crept slowlytowards them, in a single line, eachtouching the back of the one in front. Whenthey got near Thorin said: “No rushing

forward this time! No one is to stir fromhiding till I say. I shall send Mr. Bagginsalone first to talk to them. They won’t befrightened of him—(‘What about me ofthem?’ thought Bilbo)—and any way Ihope they won’t do anything nasty to him.”

When they got to the edge of the circleof lights they pushed Bilbo suddenly frombehind. Before he had time to slip on hisring, he stumbled forward into the fullblaze of the fire and torches. It was nogood. Out went all the lights again andcomplete darkness fell.

If it had been difficult collectingthemselves before, it was far worse thistime. And they simply could not find thehobbit. Every time they countedthemselves it only made thirteen. Theyshouted and called: “Bilbo Baggins!

Hobbit! You dratted hobbit! Hi! hobbit,confusticate you, where are you?” andother things of that sort, but there was noanswer.

They were just giving up hope, whenDori stumbled across him by sheer luck.In the dark he fell over what he thoughtwas a log, and he found it was the hobbitcurled up fast asleep. It took a deal ofshaking to wake him, and when he wasawake he was not pleased at all.

“I was having such a lovely dream,” hegrumbled, “all about having a mostgorgeous dinner.”

“Good heavens! he has gone likeBombur,” they said. “Don’t tell us aboutdreams. Dream-dinners aren’t any good,and we can’t share them.”

“They are the best I am likely to get in

this beastly place,” he muttered, as he laydown beside the dwarves and tried to goback to sleep and find his dream again.But that was not the last of the lights in theforest. Later when the night must havebeen getting old, Kili who was watchingthen, came and roused them all again,saying:

“There’s a regular blaze of light begunnot far away—hundreds of torches andmany fires must have been lit suddenlyand by magic. And hark to the singing andthe harps!”

After lying and listening for a while,they found they could not resist the desireto go nearer and try once more to get help.Up they got again; and this time the resultwas disastrous. The feast that they nowsaw was greater and more magnificent

than before; and at the head of a long lineof feasters sat a woodland king with acrown of leaves upon his golden hair,very much as Bombur had described thefigure in his dream. The elvish folk werepassing bowls from hand to hand andacross the fires, and some were harpingand many were singing. Their gleaminghair was twined with flowers; green andwhite gems glinted on their collars andtheir belts; and their faces and their songswere filled with mirth. Loud and clear andfair were those songs, and out steppedThorin in to their midst.

Dead silence fell in the middle of aword. Out went all light. The fires leapedup in black smokes. Ashes and cinderswere in the eyes of the dwarves, and thewood was filled again with their clamour

and their cries.Bilbo found himself running round and

round (as he thought) and calling andcalling: “Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Fili,Kili, Bombur, Bifur, Bofur, Dwalin,Balin, Thorin Oakenshield,” while peoplehe could not see or feel were doing thesame all round him (with an occasional“Bilbo!” thrown in). But the cries of theothers got steadily further and fainter, andthough after a while it seemed to him theychanged to yells and cries for help in thefar distance, all noise at last died rightaway, and he was left alone in completesilence and darkness.

That was one of his most miserable

moments. But he soon made up his mindthat it was no good trying to do anythingtill day came with some little light, andquite useless to go blundering about tiringhimself out with no hope of any breakfastto revive him. So he sat himself downwith his back to a tree, and not for the lasttime fell to thinking of his far-distanthobbit-hole with its beautiful pantries. Hewas deep in thoughts of bacon and eggsand toast and butter when he feltsomething touch him. Something like astrong sticky string was against his lefthand, and when he tried to move he foundthat his legs were already wrapped in thesame stuff, so that when he got up he fellover.

Then the great spider, who had beenbusy tying him up while he dozed, came

from behind him and came at him. Hecould only see the thing’s eyes, but hecould feel its hairy legs as it struggled towind its abominable threads round andround him. It was lucky that he had cometo his senses in time. Soon he would nothave been able to move at all. As it was,he had a desperate fight before he got free.He beat the creature off with his hands—itwas trying to poison him to keep himquiet, as small spiders do to flies—untilhe remembered his sword and drew it out.Then the spider jumped back, and he hadtime to cut his legs loose. After that it washis turn to attack. The spider evidentlywas not used to things that carried suchstings at their sides, or it would havehurried away quicker. Bilbo came at itbefore it could disappear and stuck it with

his sword right in the eyes. Then it wentmad and leaped and danced and flung outits legs in horrible jerks, until he killed itwith another stroke; and then he fell downand remembered nothing more for a longwhile.

There was the usual dim grey light ofthe forest-day about him when he came tohis senses. The spider lay dead besidehim, and his sword-blade was stainedblack. Somehow the killing of the giantspider, all alone by himself in the darkwithout the help of the wizard or thedwarves or of anyone else, made a greatdifference to Mr. Baggins. He felt adifferent person, and much fiercer andbolder in spite of an empty stomach, as hewiped his sword on the grass and put itback into its sheath.

“I will give you a name,” he said to it,“and I shall call you Sting.”

After that he set out to explore. Theforest was grim and silent, but obviouslyhe had first of all to look for his friends,who were not likely to be very far off,unless they had been made prisoners bythe elves (or worse things). Bilbo felt thatit was unsafe to shout, and he stood a longwhile wondering in what direction thepath lay, and in what direction he shouldgo first to look for the dwarves.

“O! why did we not remember Beorn’sadvice, and Gandalf’s!” he lamented.“What a mess we are in now! We! I onlywish it was we: it is horrible being allalone.”

In the end he made as good a guess ashe could at the direction from which the

cries for help had come in the night—andby luck (he was born with a good share ofit) he guessed more or less right, as youwill see. Having made up his mind hecrept along as cleverly as he could.Hobbits are clever at quietness, especiallyin woods, as I have already told you; alsoBilbo had slipped on his ring before hestarted. That is why the spiders neithersaw nor heard him coming.

He had picked his way stealthily forsome distance, when he noticed a place ofdense black shadow ahead of him, blackeven for that forest, like a patch ofmidnight that had never been clearedaway. As he drew nearer, he saw that itwas made by spider-webs one behind andover and tangled with another. Suddenlyhe saw, too, that there were spiders huge

and horrible sitting in the branches abovehim, and ring or no ring he trembled withfear lest they should discover him.Standing behind a tree he watched a groupof them for some time, and then in thesilence and stillness of the wood herealised that these loathsome creatureswere speaking one to another. Theirvoices were a sort of thin creaking andhissing, but he could make out many of thewords that they said. They were talkingabout the dwarves!

“It was a sharp struggle, but worth it,”said one. “What nasty thick skins theyhave to be sure, but I’ll wager there isgood juice inside.”

“Aye, they’ll make fine eating, whenthey’ve hung a bit,” said another.

“Don’t hang ’em too long,” said a third.

“They’re not as fat as they might be. Beenfeeding none too well of late, I shouldguess.”

“Kill ’em, I say,” hissed a fourth; “kill’em now and hang ’em dead for a while.”

“They’re dead now, I’ll warrant,” saidthe first. “That they are not. I saw one a-struggling just now. Just coming roundagain, I should say, after a bee-autifulsleep. I’ll show you.”

With that one of the fat spiders ranalong a rope till it came to a dozenbundles hanging in a row from a highbranch. Bilbo was horrified, now that henoticed them for the first time dangling inthe shadows, to see a dwarvish footsticking out of the bottoms of some of thebundles, or here and there the tip of anose, or a bit of beard or of a hood.

To the fattest of these bundles thespider went—“It is poor old Bombur, I’llbet,” thought Bilbo—and nipped hard atthe nose that stuck out. There was amuffled yelp inside, and a toe shot up andkicked the spider straight and hard. Therewas life in Bombur still. There was anoise like the kicking of a flabby football,and the enraged spider fell off the branch,only catching itself with its own threadjust in time.

The others laughed. “You were quiteright,” they said, “the meat’s alive andkicking!”

“I’ll soon put an end to that,” hissed theangry spider climbing back onto thebranch.

Bilbo saw that the moment had come whenhe must do something. He could not get upat the brutes and he had nothing to shootwith; but looking about he saw that in thisplace there were many stones lying inwhat appeared to be a now dry littlewatercourse. Bilbo was a pretty fair shotwith a stone, and it did not take him longto find a nice smooth egg-shaped one thatfitted his hand cosily. As a boy he used topractise throwing stones at things, untilrabbits and squirrels, and even birds, gotout of his way as quick as lightning if theysaw him stoop; and even grownup he hadstill spent a deal of his time at quoits,dart-throwing, shooting at the wand,bowls, ninepins and other quiet games ofthe aiming and throwing sort—indeed hecould do lots of things, besides blowing

smoke-rings, asking riddles and cooking,that I haven’t had time to tell you about.There is no time now. While he waspicking up stones, the spider had reachedBombur, and soon he would have beendead. At that moment Bilbo threw. Thestone struck the spider plunk on the head,and it dropped senseless off the tree, flopto the ground, with all its legs curled up.

The next stone went whizzing through abig web, snapping its cords, and taking offthe spider sitting in the middle of it,whack, dead. After that there was a dealof commotion in the spider-colony, andthey forgot the dwarves for a bit, I can tellyou. They could not see Bilbo, but theycould make a good guess at the directionfrom which the stones were coming. Asquick as lightning they came running and

swinging towards the hobbit, flinging outtheir long threads in all directions, till theair seemed full of waving snares.

Bilbo, however, soon slipped away to adifferent place. The idea came to him tolead the furious spiders further and furtheraway from the dwarves, if he could; tomake them curious, excited and angry allat once. When about fifty had gone off tothe place where he had stood before, hethrew some more stones at these, and atothers that had stopped behind; thendancing among the trees he began to sing asong to infuriate them and bring them allafter him, and also to let the dwarves hearhis voice.

This is what he sang:

Old fat spider spinning in a tree!Old fat spider can’t see me! Attercop! Attercop! Won’t you stop,Stop your spinning and look for me?

Old Tomnoddy, all big body,Old Tomnoddy can’t spy me! Attercop! Attercop! Down you drop!You’ll never catch me up your tree!

Not very good perhaps, but then youmust remember that he had to make it uphimself, on the spur of a very awkwardmoment. It did what he wanted any way.As he sang he threw some more stones and

stamped. Practically all the spiders in theplace came after him: some dropped to theground, others raced along the branches,swung from tree to tree, or cast new ropesacross the dark spaces. They made for hisnoise far quicker than he had expected.They were frightfully angry. Quite apartfrom the stones no spider has ever likedbeing called Attercop, and Tomnoddy ofcourse is insulting to anybody.

Off Bilbo scuttled to a fresh place, butseveral of the spiders had run now todifferent points in the glade where theylived, and were busy spinning websacross all the spaces between the tree-stems. Very soon the hobbit would becaught in a thick fence of them all roundhim—that at least was the spiders’ idea.Standing now in the middle of the hunting

and spinning insects Bilbo plucked up hiscourage and began a new song:

Lazy Lob and crazy Cobare weaving webs to wind me.I am far more sweet than othermeat,but still they cannot find me!

Here am I, naughty little fly;you are fat and lazy.You cannot trap me, though you try,in your cobwebs crazy.

With that he turned and found that thelast space between two tall trees had beenclosed with a web—but luckily not a

proper web, only great strands of double-thick spider-rope run hastily backwardsand forwards from trunk to trunk. Outcame his little sword. He slashed thethreads to pieces and went off singing.

The spiders saw the sword, though Idon’t suppose they knew what it was, andat once the whole lot of them camehurrying after the hobbit along the groundand the branches, hairy legs waving,nippers and spinners snapping, eyespopping, full of froth and rage. Theyfollowed him into the forest until Bilbohad gone as far as he dared. Then quieterthan a mouse he stole back.

He had precious little time, he knew,before the spiders were disgusted andcame back to their trees where thedwarves were hung. In the meanwhile he

had to rescue them. The worst part of thejob was getting up on to the long branchwhere the bundles were dangling. I don’tsuppose he would have managed it, if aspider had not luckily left a rope hangingdown; with its help, though it stuck to hishand and hurt him, he scrambled up—onlyto meet an old slow wicked fat-bodiedspider who had remained behind to guardthe prisoners, and had been busy pinchingthem to see which was the juiciest to eat.It had thought of starting the feast whilethe others were away, but Mr. Bagginswas in a hurry, and before the spider knewwhat was happening it felt his sting androlled off the branch dead.

Bilbo’s next job was to loose a dwarf.What was he to do? If he cut the stringwhich hung him up, the wretched dwarf

would tumble thump to the ground a goodway below. Wriggling along the branch(which made all the poor dwarves danceand dangle like ripe fruit) he reached thefirst bundle.

“Fili or Kili,” he thought by the tip of ablue hood sticking out at the top. “Mostlikely Fili,” he thought by the tip of a longnose poking out of the winding threads. Hemanaged by leaning over to cut most of thestrong sticky threads that bound him round,and then, sure enough, with a kick and astruggle most of Fili emerged. I am afraidBilbo actually laughed at the sight of himjerking his stiff arms and legs as hedanced on the spider-string under hisarmpits, just like one of those funny toysbobbing on a wire.

Somehow or other Fili was got on to

the branch, and then he did his best to helpthe hobbit, although he was feeling verysick and ill from spider-poison, and fromhanging most of the night and the next daywound round and round with only his noseto breathe through. It took him ages to getthe beastly stuff out of his eyes andeyebrows, and as for his beard, he had tocut most of it off. Well, between them theystarted to haul up first one dwarf and thenanother and slash them free. None of themwere better off than Fili, and some of themwere worse. Some had hardly been ableto breathe at all (long noses are sometimesuseful you see) and some had been morepoisoned.

In this way they rescued Kili, Bifur,Bofur, Dori and Nori. Poor old Bomburwas so exhausted—he was the fattest and

had been constantly pinched and poked—that he just rolled off the branch and fellplop on to the ground, fortunately on toleaves, and lay there. But there were stillfive dwarves hanging at the end of thebranch when the spiders began to comeback, more full of rage than ever.

Bilbo immediately went to the end ofthe branch nearest the tree-trunk and keptback those that crawled up. He had takenoff his ring when he rescued Fili andforgotten to put it on again, so now they allbegan to splutter and hiss:

“Now we see you, you nasty littlecreature! We will eat you and leave yourbones and skin hanging on a tree. Ugh!he’s got a sting has he? Well, we’ll gethim all the same, and then we’ll hang himhead downwards for a day or two.”

While this was going on, the otherdwarves were working at the rest of thecaptives, and cutting at the threads withtheir knives. Soon all would be free,though it was not clear what wouldhappen after that. The spiders had caughtthem pretty easily the night before, but thathad been unawares and in the dark. Thistime there looked like being a horriblebattle.

Suddenly Bilbo noticed that some of thespiders had gathered round old Bombur onthe floor, and had tied him up again andwere dragging him away. He gave a shoutand slashed at the spiders in front of him.They quickly gave way, and he scrambledand fell down the tree right into the middleof those on the ground. His little swordwas something new in the way of stings

for them. How it darted to and fro! Itshone with delight as he stabbed at them.Half a dozen were killed before the restdrew off and left Bombur to Bilbo.

“Come down! Come down!” he shoutedto the dwarves on the branch. “Don’t stayup there and be netted!” For he sawspiders swarming up all the neighbouringtrees, and crawling along the boughsabove the heads of the dwarves.

Down the dwarves scrambled orjumped or dropped, eleven all in a heap,most of them very shaky and little use ontheir legs. There they were at last, twelveof them counting poor old Bombur, whowas being propped up on either side byhis cousin Bifur, and his brother Bofur;and Bilbo was dancing about and wavinghis Sting; and hundreds of angry spiders

were goggling at them all round and aboutand above. It looked pretty hopeless.

Then the battle began. Some of thedwarves had knives, and some had sticks,and all of them could get at stones; andBilbo had his elvish dagger. Again andagain the spiders were beaten off, andmany of them were killed. But it could notgo on for long. Bilbo was nearly tired out;only four of the dwarves were able tostand firmly, and soon they would all beoverpowered like weary flies. Alreadythe spiders were beginning to weave theirwebs all round them again from tree totree.

In the end Bilbo could think of no planexcept to let the dwarves into the secret ofhis ring. He was rather sorry about it, butit could not be helped.

“I am going to disappear,” he said. “Ishall draw the spiders off, if I can; andyou must keep together and make in theopposite direction. To the left there, that ismore or less the way towards the placewhere we last saw the elf-fires.”

It was difficult to get them tounderstand, what with their dizzy heads,and the shouts, and the whacking of sticksand the throwing of stones; but at lastBilbo felt he could delay no longer—thespiders were drawing their circle evercloser. He suddenly slipped on his ring,and to the great astonishment of thedwarves he vanished.

Soon there came the sound of “LazyLob” and “Attercop” from among the treesaway on the right. That upset the spidersgreatly. They stopped advancing, and

some went off in the direction of thevoice. “Attercop” made them so angry thatthey lost their wits. Then Balin, who hadgrasped Bilbo’s plan better than the rest,led an attack. The dwarves huddledtogether in a knot, and sending a shower ofstones they drove at the spiders on the left,and burst through the ring. Away behindthem now the shouting and singingsuddenly stopped.

Hoping desperately that Bilbo had notbeen caught the dwarves went on. Not fastenough, though. They were sick andweary, and they could not go much betterthan a hobble and a wobble, though manyof the spiders were close behind. Everynow and then they had to turn and fight thecreatures that were overtaking them; andalready some spiders were in the trees

above them and throwing down their longclinging threads.

Things were looking pretty bad again,when suddenly Bilbo reappeared, andcharged into the astonished spidersunexpectedly from the side.

“Go on! Go on!” he shouted. “I will dothe stinging!”

And he did. He darted backwards andforwards, slashing at spider-threads,hacking at their legs, and stabbing at theirfat bodies if they came too near. Thespiders swelled with rage, and splutteredand frothed, and hissed out horriblecurses; but they had become mortallyafraid of Sting, and dared not come verynear, now that it had come back. So curseas they would, their prey moved slowlybut steadily away. It was a most terrible

business, and seemed to take hours. But atlast, just when Bilbo felt that he could notlift his hand for a single stroke more, thespiders suddenly gave it up, and followedthem no more, but went back disappointedto their dark colony.

The dwarves then noticed that they hadcome to the edge of a ring where elf-fireshad been. Whether it was one of those theyhad seen the night before, they could nottell. But it seemed that some good magiclingered in such spots, which the spidersdid not like. At any rate here the light wasgreener, and the boughs less thick andthreatening, and they had a chance to restand draw breath.

There they lay for some time, puffingand panting. But very soon they began toask questions. They had to have the whole

vanishing business carefully explained,and the finding of the ring interested themso much that for a while they forgot theirown troubles. Balin in particular insistedon having the Gollum story, riddles andall, told all over again, with the ring in itsproper place. But after a time the lightbegan to fail, and then other questionswere asked. Where were they, and wherewas their path, and where was there anyfood, and what were they going to donext? These questions they asked over andover again, and it was from little Bilbothat they seemed to expect to get theanswers. From which you can see that theyhad changed their opinion of Mr. Bagginsvery much, and had begun to have a greatrespect for him (as Gandalf had said theywould). Indeed they really expected him

to think of some wonderful plan forhelping them, and were not merelygrumbling. They knew only too well thatthey would soon all have been dead, if ithad not been for the hobbit; and theythanked him many times. Some of themeven got up and bowed right to the groundbefore him, though they fell over with theeffort, and could not get on their legs againfor some time. Knowing the truth about thevanishing did not lessen their opinion ofBilbo at all; for they saw that he had somewits, as well as luck and a magic ring—and all three are very useful possessions.In fact they praised him so much that Bilbobegan to feel there really was somethingof a bold adventurer about himself afterall, though he would have felt a lot bolderstill, if there had been anything to eat.

But there was nothing, nothing at all;and none of them were fit to go and lookfor anything, or to search for the lost path.The lost path! No other idea would comeinto Bilbo’s tired head. He just sat staringin front of him at the endless trees; andafter a while they all fell silent again. Allexcept Balin. Long after the others hadstopped talking and shut their eyes, he kepton muttering and chuckling to himself.

“Gollum! Well I’m blest! So that’s howhe sneaked past me, is it? Now I know!Just crept quietly along did you, Mr.Baggins? Buttons all over the doorstep!Good old Bilbo—Bilbo—Bilbo—bo—bo—bo—” And then he fell asleep, andthere was complete silence for a longwhile.

All of a sudden Dwalin opened an eye,

and looked round at them. “Where isThorin?” he asked.

It was a terrible shock. Of course therewere only thirteen of them, twelvedwarves and the hobbit. Where indeedwas Thorin? They wondered what evilfate had befallen him, magic or darkmonsters; and shuddered as they lay lost inthe forest. There they dropped off one byone into uncomfortable sleep full ofhorrible dreams, as evening wore to blacknight; and there we must leave them for thepresent, too sick and weary to set guardsor to take turns at watching.

Thorin had been caught much faster thanthey had. You remember Bilbo falling likea log into sleep, as he stepped into acircle of light? The next time it had beenThorin who stepped forward, and as the

lights went out he fell like a stoneenchanted. All the noise of the dwarveslost in the night, their cries as the spiderscaught them and bound them, and all thesounds of the battle next day, had passedover him unheard. Then the Wood-elveshad come to him, and bound him, andcarried him away.

The feasting people were Wood-elves,of course. These are not wicked folk. Ifthey have a fault it is distrust of strangers.Though their magic was strong, even inthose days they were wary. They differedfrom the High Elves of the West, and weremore dangerous and less wise. For mostof them (together with their scatteredrelations in the hills and mountains) weredescended from the ancient tribes thatnever went to Faerie in the West. There

the Light-elves and the Deep-elves and theSea-elves went and lived for ages, andgrew fairer and wiser and more learned,and invented their magic and their cunningcraft in the making of beautiful andmarvellous things, before some came backinto the Wide World. In the Wide Worldthe Wood-elves lingered in the twilight ofour Sun and Moon, but loved best thestars; and they wandered in the greatforests that grew tall in lands that are nowlost. They dwelt most often by the edgesof the woods, from which they couldescape at times to hunt, or to ride and runover the open lands by moonlight orstarlight; and after the coming of Men theytook ever more and more to the gloamingand the dusk. Still elves they were andremain, and that is Good People.

In a great cave some miles within theedge of Mirkwood on its eastern sidethere lived at this time their greatest king.Before his huge doors of stone a river ranout of the heights of the forest and flowedon and out into the marshes at the feet ofthe high wooded lands. This great cave,from which countless smaller ones openedout on every side, wound far undergroundand had many passages and wide halls;but it was lighter and more wholesomethan any goblin-dwelling, and neither sodeep nor so dangerous. In fact the subjectsof the king mostly lived and hunted in theopen woods, and had houses or huts on theground and in the branches. The beecheswere their favourite trees. The king’s cavewas his palace, and the strong place of histreasure, and the fortress of his people

against their enemies.It was also the dungeon of his

prisoners. So to the cave they draggedThorin—not too gently, for they did notlove dwarves, and thought he was anenemy. In ancient days they had had warswith some of the dwarves, whom theyaccused of stealing their treasure. It isonly fair to say that the dwarves gave adifferent account, and said that they onlytook what was their due, for the elf-kinghad bargained with them to shape his rawgold and silver, and had afterwardsrefused to give them their pay. If the elf-king had a weakness it was for treasure,especially for silver and white gems; andthough his hoard was rich, he was evereager for more, since he had not yet asgreat a treasure as other elf-lords of old.

His people neither mined nor workedmetals or jewels, nor did they bother muchwith trade or with tilling the earth. All thiswas well known to every dwarf, thoughThorin’s family had had nothing to do withthe old quarrel I have spoken of.Consequently Thorin was angry at theirtreatment of him, when they took theirspell off him and he came to his senses;and also he was determined that no wordof gold or jewels should be dragged out ofhim.

The king looked sternly on Thorin,when he was brought before him, andasked him many questions. But Thorinwould only say that he was starving.

“Why did you and your folk three timestry to attack my people at theirmerrymaking?” asked the king.

“We did not attack them,” answeredThorin; “we came to beg, because wewere starving.”

“Where are your friends now, and whatare they doing?”

“I don’t know, but I expect starving inthe forest.”

“What were you doing in the forest?”“Looking for food and drink, because

we were starving.”“But what brought you into the forest at

all?” asked the king angrily.At that Thorin shut his mouth and would

not say another word.“Very well!” said the king. “Take him

away and keep him safe, until he feelsinclined to tell the truth, even if he waits ahundred years.”

Then the elves put thongs on him, and

shut him in one of the inmost caves withstrong wooden doors, and left him. Theygave him food and drink, plenty of both, ifnot very fine; for Wood-elves were notgoblins, and were reasonably well-behaved even to their worst enemies,when they captured them. The giantspiders were the only living things thatthey had no mercy upon.

There in the king’s dungeon poorThorin lay; and after he had got over histhankfulness for bread and meat andwater, he began to wonder what hadbecome of his unfortunate friends. It wasnot very long before he discovered; butthat belongs to the next chapter and thebeginning of another adventure in whichthe hobbit again showed his usefulness.

Chapter IX

BARRELS OUT OF BOND

The day after the battle with the spidersBilbo and the dwarves made one lastdespairing effort to find a way out beforethey died of hunger and thirst. They got upand staggered on in the direction whicheight out of the thirteen of them guessed tobe the one in which the path lay; but theynever found out if they were right. Suchday as there ever was in the forest wasfading once more into the blackness ofnight, when suddenly out sprang the lightof many torches all round them, like

hundreds of red stars. Out leaped Wood-elves with their bows and spears andcalled the dwarves to halt.

There was no thought of a fight. Even ifthe dwarves had not been in such a statethat they were actually glad to becaptured, their small knives, the onlyweapons they had, would have been of nouse against the arrows of the elves thatcould hit a bird’s eye in the dark. So theysimply stopped dead and sat down andwaited—all except Bilbo, who popped onhis ring and slipped quickly to one side.That is why, when the elves bound thedwarves in a long line, one behind theother, and counted them, they never foundor counted the hobbit.

Nor did they hear or feel him trottingalong well behind their torch-light as they

led off their prisoners into the forest. Eachdwarf was blindfold, but that did not makemuch difference, for even Bilbo with theuse of his eyes could not see where theywere going, and neither he nor the othersknew where they had started from anyway.Bilbo had all he could do to keep up withthe torches, for the elves were making thedwarves go as fast as ever they could,sick and weary as they were. The king hadordered them to make haste. Suddenly thetorches stopped, and the hobbit had justtime to catch them up before they began tocross the bridge. This was the bridge thatled across the river to the king’s doors.The water flowed dark and swift andstrong beneath; and at the far end weregates before the mouth of a huge cave thatran into the side of a steep slope covered

with trees. There the great beeches cameright down to the bank, till their feet werein the stream.

Across the bridge the elves thrust theirprisoners, but Bilbo hesitated in the rear.He did not at all like the look of thecavern-mouth, and he only made up hismind not to desert his friends just in timeto scuttle over at the heels of the lastelves, before the great gates of the kingclosed behind them with a clang.

Inside the passages were lit with redtorch-light, and the elf-guards sang as theymarched along the twisting, crossing, andechoing paths. These were not like thoseof the goblin-cities; they were smaller,less deep underground, and filled with acleaner air. In a great hall with pillarshewn out of the living stone sat the

Elvenking on a chair of carven wood. Onhis head was a crown of berries and redleaves, for the autumn was come again. Inthe spring he wore a crown of woodlandflowers. In his hand he held a carven staffof oak.

The Elvenking's Gate.

The prisoners were brought before him;and though he looked grimly at them, hetold his men to unbind them, for they wereragged and weary. “Besides they need noropes in here,” said he. “There is noescape from my magic doors for thosewho are once brought inside.”

Long and searchingly he questioned thedwarves about their doings, and wherethey were going to, and where they werecoming from; but he got little more newsout of them than out of Thorin. They weresurly and angry and did not even pretendto be polite.

“What have we done, O king?” saidBalin, who was the eldest left. “Is it a

crime to be lost in the forest, to be hungryand thirsty, to be trapped by spiders? Arethe spiders your tame beasts or your pets,if killing them makes you angry?”

Such a question of course made the kingangrier than ever, and he answered: “It isa crime to wander in my realm withoutleave. Do you forget that you were in mykingdom, using the road that my peoplemade? Did you not three times pursue andtrouble my people in the forest and rousethe spiders with your riot and clamour?After all the disturbance you have made Ihave a right to know what brings you here,and if you will not tell me now, I willkeep you all in prison until you havelearned sense and manners!”

Then he ordered the dwarves each to beput in a separate cell and to be given food

and drink, but not to be allowed to passthe doors of their little prisons, until oneat least of them was willing to tell him allhe wanted to know. But he did not tellthem that Thorin was also a prisoner withhim. It was Bilbo who found that out.

Poor Mr. Baggins—it was a weary longtime that he lived in that place all alone,and always in hiding, never daring to takeoff his ring, hardly daring to sleep, eventucked away in the darkest and remotestcorners he could find. For something to dohe took to wandering about theElvenking’s palace. Magic shut the gates,but he could sometimes get out, if he wasquick. Companies of the Wood-elves,

sometimes with the king at their head,would from time to time ride out to hunt,or to other business in the woods and inthe lands to the East. Then if Bilbo wasvery nimble, he could slip out just behindthem; though it was a dangerous thing todo. More than once he was nearly caughtin the doors, as they clashed togetherwhen the last elf passed; yet he did notdare to march among them because of hisshadow (altogether thin and wobbly as itwas in torchlight), or for fear of beingbumped into and discovered. And when hedid go out, which was not very often, hedid no good. He did not wish to desert thedwarves, and indeed he did not knowwhere in the world to go without them. Hecould not keep up with the hunting elvesall the time they were out, so he never

discovered the ways out of the wood, andwas left to wander miserably in the forest,terrified of losing himself, until a chancecame of returning. He was hungry toooutside, for he was no hunter; but insidethe caves he could pick up a living ofsome sort by stealing food from store ortable when no one was at hand.

“I am like a burglar that can’t get away,but must go on miserably burgling thesame house day after day,” he thought.“This is the dreariest and dullest part ofall this wretched, tiresome, uncomfortableadventure! I wish I was back in myhobbit-hole by my own warm firesidewith the lamp shining!” He often wished,too, that he could get a message for helpsent to the wizard, but that of course wasquite impossible; and he soon realized that

if anything was to be done, it would haveto be done by Mr. Baggins, alone andunaided.

Eventually, after a week or two of thissneaking sort of life, by watching andfollowing the guards and taking whatchances he could, he managed to find outwhere each dwarf was kept. He found alltheir twelve cells in different parts of thepalace, and after a time he got to know hisway about very well. What was hissurprise one day to overhear some of theguards talking and to learn that there wasanother dwarf in prison too, in a speciallydeep dark place. He guessed at once, ofcourse, that that was Thorin; and after awhile he found that his guess was right. Atlast after many difficulties he managed tofind the place when no one was about, and

to have a word with the chief of thedwarves.

Thorin was too wretched to be angryany longer at his misfortunes, and waseven beginning to think of telling the kingall about his treasure and his quest (whichshows how low-spirited he had become),when he heard Bilbo’s little voice at hiskeyhole. He could hardly believe his ears.Soon however he made up his mind that hecould not be mistaken, and he came to thedoor and had a long whispered talk withthe hobbit on the other side.

So it was that Bilbo was able to takesecretly Thorin’s message to each of theother imprisoned dwarves, telling themthat Thorin their chief was also in prisonclose at hand, and that no one was toreveal their errand to the king, not yet, nor

before Thorin gave the word. For Thorinhad taken heart again hearing how thehobbit had rescued his companions fromthe spiders, and was determined oncemore not to ransom himself with promisesto the king of a share in the treasure, untilall hope of escaping in any other way haddisappeared; until in fact the remarkableMr. Invisible Baggins (of whom he beganto have a very high opinion indeed) hadaltogether failed to think of somethingclever.

The other dwarves quite agreed whenthey got the message. They all thoughttheir own shares in the treasure (whichthey quite regarded as theirs, in spite oftheir plight and the still unconquereddragon) would suffer seriously if theWood-elves claimed part of it, and they

all trusted Bilbo. Just what Gandalf hadsaid would happen, you see. Perhaps thatwas part of his reason for going off andleaving them.

Bilbo, however, did not feel nearly sohopeful as they did. He did not like beingdepended on by everyone, and he wishedhe had the wizard at hand. But that was nouse: probably all the dark distance ofMirkwood lay between them. He sat andthought and thought, until his head nearlyburst, but no bright idea would come. Oneinvisible ring was a very fine thing, but itwas not much good among fourteen. But ofcourse, as you have guessed, he did rescuehis friends in the end, and this is how ithappened.

One day, nosing and wandering about,Bilbo discovered a very interesting thing:

the great gates were not the only entranceto the caves. A stream flowed under partof the lowest regions of the palace, andjoined the Forest River some way furtherto the east, beyond the steep slope out ofwhich the main mouth opened. Where thisunderground watercourse came forth fromthe hillside there was a water-gate. Therethe rocky roof came down close to thesurface of the stream, and from it aportcullis could be dropped right to thebed of the river to prevent anyone comingin or out that way. But the portcullis wasoften open, for a good deal of traffic wentout and in by the water-gate. If anyone hadcome in that way, he would have foundhimself in a dark rough tunnel leadingdeep into the heart of the hill; but at onepoint where it passed under the caves the

roof had been cut away and covered withgreat oaken trapdoors. These openedupwards into the king’s cellars. Therestood barrels, and barrels, and barrels; forthe Wood-elves, and especially their king,were very fond of wine, though no vinesgrew in those parts. The wine, and othergoods, were brought from far away, fromtheir kinsfolk in the South, or from thevineyards of Men in distant lands.

Hiding behind one of the largest barrelsBilbo discovered the trapdoors and theiruse, and lurking there, listening to the talkof the king’s servants, he learned how thewine and other goods came up the rivers,or over land, to the Long Lake. It seemed atown of Men still throve there, built out onbridges far into the water as a protectionagainst enemies of all sorts, and

especially against the dragon of theMountain. From Lake-town the barrelswere brought up the Forest River. Oftenthey were just tied together like big raftsand poled or rowed up the stream;sometimes they were loaded on to flatboats.

When the barrels were empty the elvescast them through the trapdoors, openedthe water-gate, and out the barrels floatedon the stream, bobbing along, until theywere carried by the current to a place fardown the river where the bank jutted out,near to the very eastern edge ofMirkwood. There they were collected andtied together and floated back to Lake-town, which stood close to the pointwhere the Forest River flowed into theLong Lake.

For some time Bilbo sat and thought aboutthis water-gate, and wondered if it couldbe used for the escape of his friends, andat last he had the desperate beginnings of aplan.

The evening meal had been taken to theprisoners. The guards were trampingaway down the passages taking thetorchlight with them and leavingeverything in darkness. Then Bilbo heardthe king’s butler bidding the chief of theguards good-night.

“Now come with me,” he said, “andtaste the new wine that has just come in. Ishall be hard at work tonight clearing thecellars of the empty wood, so let us have adrink first to help the labour.”

“Very good,” laughed the chief of theguards. “I’ll taste with you, and see if it is

fit for the king’s table. There is a feasttonight and it would not do to send uppoor stuff!”

When he heard this Bilbo was all in aflutter, for he saw that luck was with himand he had a chance at once to try hisdesperate plan. He followed the twoelves, until they entered a small cellar andsat down at a table on which two largeflagons were set. Soon they began to drinkand laugh merrily. Luck of an unusual kindwas with Bilbo then. It must be potentwine to make a wood-elf drowsy; but thiswine, it would seem, was the headyvintage of the great gardens of Dorwinion,not meant for his soldiers or his servants,

but for the king’s feasts only, and forsmaller bowls not for the butler’s greatflagons.

Very soon the chief guard nodded hishead, then he laid it on the table and fellfast asleep. The butler went on talking andlaughing to himself for a while withoutseeming to notice, but soon his head toonodded to the table, and he fell asleep andsnored beside his friend. Then in crept thehobbit. Very soon the chief guard had nokeys, but Bilbo was trotting as fast as hecould along the passages towards thecells. The great bunch seemed very heavyto his arms, and his heart was often in hismouth, in spite of his ring, for he could notprevent the keys from making every nowand then a loud clink and clank, which puthim all in a tremble.

First he unlocked Balin’s door, andlocked it again carefully as soon as thedwarf was outside. Balin was mostsurprised, as you can imagine; but glad ashe was to get out of his wearisome littlestone room, he wanted to stop and askquestions, and know what Bilbo wasgoing to do, and all about it.

“No time now!” said the hobbit. “Youjust follow me! We must all keep togetherand not risk getting separated. All of usmust escape or none, and this is our lastchance. If this is found out, goodnessknows where the king will put you next,with chains on your hands and feet too, Iexpect. Don’t argue, there’s a goodfellow!”

Then off he went from door to door,until his following had grown to twelve—

none of them any too nimble, what withthe dark, and what with their longimprisonment. Bilbo’s heart thumpedevery time one of them bumped intoanother, or grunted or whispered in thedark. “Drat this dwarvish racket!” he saidto himself. But all went well, and they metno guards. As a matter of fact there was agreat autumn feast in the woods that night,and in the halls above. Nearly all theking’s folk were merrymaking.

At last after much blundering they cameto Thorin’s dungeon, far down in a deepplace and fortunately not far from thecellars.

“Upon my word!” said Thorin, whenBilbo whispered to him to come out andjoin his friends, “Gandalf spoke true, asusual! A pretty fine burglar you make, it

seems, when the time comes. I am sure weare all for ever at your service, whateverhappens after this. But what comes next?”

Bilbo saw that the time had come toexplain his idea, as far as he could; but hedid not feel at all sure how the dwarveswould take it. His fears were quitejustified, for they did not like it a bit, andstarted grumbling loudly in spite of theirdanger.

“We shall be bruised and battered topieces, and drowned too, for certain!”they muttered. “We thought you had gotsome sensible notion, when you managedto get hold of the keys. This is a madidea!”

“Very well!” said Bilbo very downcast,and also rather annoyed. “Come alongback to your nice cells, and I will lock

you all in again, and you can sit therecomfortably and think of a better plan—but I don’t suppose I shall ever get hold ofthe keys again, even if I feel inclined totry.”

That was too much for them, and theycalmed down. In the end, of course, theyhad to do just what Bilbo suggested,because it was obviously impossible forthem to try and find their way into theupper halls, or to fight their way out ofgates that closed by magic; and it was nogood grumbling in the passages until theywere caught again. So following thehobbit, down into the lowest cellars theycrept. They passed a door through whichthe chief guard and the butler could beseen still happily snoring with smilesupon their faces. The wine of Dorwinion

brings deep and pleasant dreams. Therewould be a different expression on theface of the chief guard next day, eventhough Bilbo, before they went on, stole inand kind-heartedly put the keys back onhis belt.

“That will save him some of the troublehe is in for,” said Mr. Baggins to himself.“He wasn’t a bad fellow, and quite decentto the prisoners. It will puzzle them alltoo. They will think we had a very strongmagic to pass through all those lockeddoors and disappear. Disappear! We havegot to get busy very quick, if that is tohappen!”

Balin was told off to watch the guard and

the butler and give warning if they stirred.The rest went into the adjoining cellarwith the trapdoors. There was little timeto lose. Before long, as Bilbo knew, someelves were under orders to come downand help the butler get the empty barrelsthrough the doors into the stream. Thesewere in fact already standing in rows inthe middle of the floor waiting to bepushed off. Some of them were wine-barrels, and these were not much use, asthey could not easily be opened at the endwithout a deal of noise, nor could theyeasily be secured again. But among themwere several others, which had been usedfor bringing other stuffs, butter, apples,and all sorts of things, to the king’spalace.

They soon found thirteen with room

enough for a dwarf in each. In fact somewere too roomy, and as they climbed inthe dwarves thought anxiously of theshaking and the bumping they would getinside, though Bilbo did his best to findstraw and other stuff to pack them in ascosily as could be managed in a shorttime. At last twelve dwarves werestowed. Thorin had given a lot of trouble,and turned and twisted in his tub andgrumbled like a large dog in a smallkennel; while Balin, who came last, madea great fuss about his air-holes and said hewas stifling, even before his lid was on.Bilbo had done what he could to closeholes in the sides of the barrels, and to fixon all the lids as safely as could bemanaged, and now he was left aloneagain, running round putting the finishing

touches to the packing, and hoping againsthope that his plan would come off.

It had not been done a bit too soon.Only a minute or two after Balin’s lid hadbeen fitted on there came the sound ofvoices and the flicker of lights. A numberof elves came laughing and talking into thecellars and singing snatches of song. Theyhad left a merry feast in one of the hallsand were bent on returning as soon as theycould.

“Where’s old Galion, the butler?” saidone. “I haven’t seen him at the tablestonight. He ought to be here now to showus what is to be done.”

“I shall be angry if the old slowcoach islate,” said another. “I have no wish towaste time down here while the song isup!”

“Ha, ha!” came a cry. “Here’s the oldvillain with his head on a jug! He’s beenhaving a little feast all to himself and hisfriend the captain.”

“Shake him! Wake him!” shouted theothers impatiently.

Galion was not at all pleased at beingshaken or wakened, and still less at beinglaughed at. “You’re all late,” he grumbled.“Here am I waiting and waiting downhere, while you fellows drink and makemerry and forget your tasks. Small wonderif I fall asleep from weariness!”

“Small wonder,” said they, “when theexplanation stands close at hand in a jug!Come give us a taste of your sleeping-draught before we fall to! No need towake the turnkey yonder. He has had hisshare by the looks of it.”

Then they drank once round and becamemighty merry all of a sudden. But they didnot quite lose their wits. “Save us,Galion!” cried some, “you began yourfeasting early and muddled your wits! Youhave stacked some full casks here insteadof the empty ones, if there is anything inweight.”

“Get on with the work!” growled thebutler. “There is nothing in the feeling ofweight in an idle toss-pot’s arms. Theseare the ones to go and no others. Do as Isay!”

“Very well, very well,” they answeredrolling the barrels to the opening. “Onyour head be it, if the king’s full buttertubsand his best wine is pushed into the riverfor the Lake-men to feast on for nothing!”

Roll—roll—roll—roll,roll-roll-rolling down the hole!Heave ho! Splash plump!Down they go, down they bump!

So they sang as first one barrel and thenanother rumbled to the dark opening andwas pushed over into the cold water somefeet below. Some were barrels reallyempty, some were tubs neatly packed witha dwarf each; but down they all went, oneafter another, with many a clash and abump, thudding on top of ones below,smacking into the water, jostling againstthe walls of the tunnel, knocking into oneanother, and bobbing away down thecurrent.

It was just at this moment that Bilbo

suddenly discovered the weak point in hisplan. Most likely you saw it some timeago and have been laughing at him; but Idon’t suppose you would have done halfas well yourselves in his place. Of coursehe was not in a barrel himself, nor wasthere anyone to pack him in, even if therehad been a chance! It looked as if hewould certainly lose his friends this time(nearly all of them had alreadydisappeared through the dark trap-door),and get utterly left behind and have to staylurking as a permanent burglar in the elf-caves for ever. For even if he could haveescaped through the upper gates at once,he had precious small chance of everfinding the dwarves again. He did notknow the way by land to the place wherethe barrels were collected. He wondered

what on earth would happen to themwithout him; for he had not had time to tellthe dwarves all that he had learned, orwhat he had meant to do, once they wereout of the wood.

While all these thoughts were passingthrough his mind, the elves being verymerry began to sing a song round theriver-door. Some had already gone to haulon the ropes which pulled up theportcullis at the water-gate so as to let outthe barrels as soon as they were all afloatbelow.

Down the swift dark stream you goBack to lands you once did know!Leave the halls and caverns deep,Leave the northern mountains steep,

Where the forest wide and dimStoops in shadow grey and grim!Float beyond the world of treesOut into the whispering breeze,Past the rushes, past the reeds,Past the marsh’s waving weeds,Through the mist that riseth whiteUp from mere and pool at night!Follow, follow stars that leapUp the heavens cold and steep;Turn when dawn comes over land,Over rapid, over sand,South away! and South away!Seek the sunlight and the day,Back to pasture, back to mead,Where the kine and oxen feed!Back to gardens on the hillsWhere the berry swells and fillsUnder sunlight, under day!

South away! and South away!Down the swift dark stream you goBack to lands you once did know!

Now the very last barrel was beingrolled to the doors! In despair and notknowing what else to do, poor little Bilbocaught hold of it and was pushed over theedge with it. Down into the water he fell,splash! into the cold dark water with thebarrel on top of him.

He came up again spluttering andclinging to the wood like a rat, but for allhis efforts he could not scramble on top.Every time he tried, the barrel rolledround and ducked him under again. It wasreally empty, and floated light as a cork.Though his ears were full of water, he

could hear the elves still singing in thecellar above. Then suddenly the trap-doors fell to with a boom and their voicesfaded away. He was in the dark tunnelfloating in icy water, all alone—for youcannot count friends that are all packed upin barrels.

Very soon a grey patch came in thedarkness ahead. He heard the creak of thewater-gate being hauled up, and he foundthat he was in the midst of a bobbing andbumping mass of casks and tubs allpressing together to pass under the archand get out into the open stream. He had asmuch as he could do to prevent himselffrom being hustled and battered to bits; butat last the jostling crowd began to breakup and swing off, one by one, under thestony arch and away. Then he saw that it

would have been no good even if he hadmanaged to get astride his barrel, for therewas no room to spare, not even for ahobbit, between its top and the suddenlystooping roof where the gate was.

Out they went under the overhangingbranches of the trees on either bank. Bilbowondered what the dwarves were feelingand whether a lot of water was getting intotheir tubs. Some of those that bobbedalong by him in the gloom seemed prettylow in the water, and he guessed that thesehad dwarves inside.

“I do hope I put the lids on tightenough!” he thought, but before long hewas worrying too much about himself to

remember the dwarves. He managed tokeep his head above the water, but he wasshivering with the cold, and he wonderedif he would die of it before the luckturned, and how much longer he would beable to hang on, and whether he shouldrisk the chance of letting go and trying toswim to the bank.

The luck turned all right before long:the eddying current carried several barrelsclose ashore at one point and there for awhile they stuck against some hidden root.Then Bilbo took the opportunity ofscrambling up the side of his barrel whileit was held steady against another. Up hecrawled like a drowned rat, and lay on thetop spread out to keep the balance as besthe could. The breeze was cold but betterthan the water, and he hoped he would not

suddenly roll off again when they startedoff once more.

Before long the barrels broke free againand turned and twisted off down thestream, and out into the main current. Thenhe found it quite as difficult to stick on ashe had feared; but he managed itsomehow, though it was miserablyuncomfortable. Luckily he was very light,and the barrel was a good big one andbeing rather leaky had now shipped asmall amount of water. All the same itwas like trying to ride, without bridle orstirrups, a round-bellied pony that wasalways thinking of rolling on the grass.

In this way at last Mr. Baggins came toa place where the trees on either handgrew thinner. He could see the paler skybetween them. The dark river opened

suddenly wide, and there it was joined tothe main water of the Forest River flowingdown in haste from the king’s great doors.There was a dim sheet of water no longerovershadowed, and on its sliding surfacethere were dancing and broken reflectionsof clouds and of stars. Then the hurryingwater of the Forest River swept all thecompany of casks and tubs away to thenorth bank, in which it had eaten out awide bay. This had a shingly shore underhanging banks and was walled at theeastern end by a little jutting cape of hardrock. On the shallow shore most of thebarrels ran aground, though a few went onto bump against the stony pier.

There were people on the look-out onthe banks. They quickly poled and pushedall the barrels together into the shallows,

and when they had counted them theyroped them together and left them till themorning. Poor dwarves! Bilbo was notbadly off now. He slipped from his barreland waded ashore, and then sneaked alongto some huts that he could see near thewater’s edge. He no longer thought twiceabout picking up a supper uninvited if hegot the chance, he had been obliged to doit for so long, and he knew now only toowell what it was to be really hungry, notmerely politely interested in the daintiesof a well-filled larder. Also he had caughta glimpse of a fire through the trees, andthat appealed to him with his dripping andragged clothes clinging to him cold andclammy.

There is no need to tell you much of hisadventures that night, for now we aredrawing near the end of the eastwardjourney and coming to the last and greatestadventure, so we must hurry on. Of coursehelped by his magic ring he got on verywell at first, but he was given away in theend by his wet footsteps and the trail ofdrippings that he left wherever he went orsat; and also he began to snivel, andwherever he tried to hide he was foundout by the terrific explosions of hissuppressed sneezes. Very soon there wasa fine commotion in the village by theriverside; but Bilbo escaped into thewoods carrying a loaf and a leather bottleof wine and a pie that did not belong tohim. The rest of the night he had to passwet as he was and far from a fire, but the

bottle helped him to do that, and heactually dozed a little on some dry leaves,even though the year was getting late andthe air was chilly.

He woke again with a specially loudsneeze. It was already grey morning, andthere was a merry racket down by theriver. They were making up a raft ofbarrels, and the raft-elves would soon besteering it off down the stream to Lake-town. Bilbo sneezed again. He was nolonger dripping but he felt cold all over.He scrambled down as fast as his stifflegs would take him and managed just intime to get on to the mass of casks withoutbeing noticed in the general bustle.Luckily there was no sun at the time tocast an awkward shadow, and for a mercyhe did not sneeze again for a good while.

There was a mighty pushing of poles.The elves that were standing in theshallow water heaved and shoved. Thebarrels now all lashed together creakedand fretted.

“This is a heavy load!” some grumbled.“They float too deep—some of these arenever empty. If they had come ashore inthe daylight, we might have had a lookinside,” they said.

“No time now!” cried the raftman.“Shove off!” And off they went at last,slowly at first, until they had passed thepoint of rock where other elves stood tofend them off with poles, and then quickerand quicker as they caught the main streamand went sailing away down, downtowards the Lake.

They had escaped the dungeons of the

king and were through the wood, butwhether alive or dead still remains to beseen.

Chapter X

A WARM WELCOME

The day grew lighter and warmer as theyfloated along. After a while the riverrounded a steep shoulder of land that camedown upon their left. Under its rocky feetlike an inland cliff the deepest stream hadflowed lapping and bubbling. Suddenlythe cliff fell away. The shores sank. Thetrees ended. Then Bilbo saw a sight:

The lands opened wide about him,filled with the waters of the river whichbroke up and wandered in a hundredwinding courses, or halted in marshes and

pools dotted with isles on every side; butstill a strong water flowed on steadilythrough the midst. And far away, its darkhead in a torn cloud, there loomed theMountain! Its nearest neighbours to theNorth-East and the tumbled land thatjoined it to them could not be seen. Allalone it rose and looked across themarshes to the forest. The LonelyMountain! Bilbo had come far and throughmany adventures to see it, and now he didnot like the look of it in the least.

As he listened to the talk of the raftmenand pieced together the scraps ofinformation they let fall, he soon realizedthat he was very fortunate ever to haveseen it at all, even from this distance.Dreary as had been his imprisonment andunpleasant as was his position (to say

nothing of the poor dwarves underneathhim) still, he had been more lucky than hehad guessed. The talk was all of the tradethat came and went on the waterways andthe growth of the traffic on the river, as theroads out of the East towards Mirkwoodvanished or fell into disuse; and of thebickerings of the Lake-men and the Wood-elves about the upkeep of the Forest Riverand the care of the banks. Those lands hadchanged much since the days whendwarves dwelt in the Mountain, dayswhich most people now remembered onlyas a very shadowy tradition. They hadchanged even in recent years, and sincethe last news that Gandalf had had ofthem. Great floods and rains had swollenthe waters that flowed east; and there hadbeen an earthquake or two (which some

were inclined to attribute to the dragon—alluding to him chiefly with a curse and anominous nod in the direction of theMountain). The marshes and bogs hadspread wider and wider on either side.Paths had vanished, and many a rider andwanderer too, if they had tried to find thelost ways across. The elf-road through thewood which the dwarves had followed onthe advice of Beorn now came to adoubtful and little used end at the easternedge of the forest; only the river offeredany longer a safe way from the skirts ofMirkwood in the North to the mountain-shadowed plains beyond, and the riverwas guarded by the Wood-elves’ king.

So you see Bilbo had come in the endby the only road that was any good. Itmight have been some comfort to Mr.

Baggins shivering on the barrels, if he hadknown that news of this had reachedGandalf far away and given him greatanxiety, and that he was in fact finishinghis other business (which does not comeinto this tale) and getting ready to come insearch of Thorin’s company. But Bilbodid not know it.

All he knew was that the river seemedto go on and on and on for ever, and hewas hungry, and had a nasty cold in thenose, and did not like the way theMountain seemed to frown at him andthreaten him as it drew ever nearer. Aftera while, however, the river took a moresoutherly course and the Mountainreceded again, and at last, late in the daythe shores grew rocky, the river gatheredall its wandering waters together into a

deep and rapid flood, and they sweptalong at great speed.

The sun had set when turning withanother sweep towards the East the forest-river rushed into the Long Lake. There ithad a wide mouth with stony clifflikegates at either side whose feet were piledwith shingles. The Long Lake! Bilbo hadnever imagined that any water that was notthe sea could look so big. It was so widethat the opposite shores looked small andfar, but it was so long that its northerlyend, which pointed towards the Mountain,could not be seen at all. Only from themap did Bilbo know that away up there,where the stars of the Wain were alreadytwinkling, the Running River came downinto the lake from Dale and with theForest River filled with deep waters what

must once have been a great deep rockyvalley. At the southern end the doubledwaters poured out again over highwaterfalls and ran away hurriedly tounknown lands. In the still evening air thenoise of the falls could be heard like adistant roar.

Not far from the mouth of the ForestRiver was the strange town he heard theelves speak of in the king’s cellars. It wasnot built on the shore, though there were afew huts and buildings there, but right outon the surface of the lake, protected fromthe swirl of the entering river by apromontory of rock which formed a calmbay. A great bridge made of wood ran outto where on huge piles made of foresttrees was built a busy wooden town, not atown of elves but of Men, who still dared

to dwell here under the shadow of thedistant dragon-mountain. They still throveon the trade that came up the great riverfrom the South and was carted past thefalls to their town; but in the great days ofold, when Dale in the North was rich andprosperous, they had been wealthy andpowerful, and there had been fleets ofboats on the waters, and some were filledwith gold and some with warriors inarmour, and there had been wars anddeeds which were now only a legend. Therotting piles of a greater town could stillbe seen along the shores when the waterssank in a drought.

But men remembered little of all that,though some still sang old songs of thedwarf-kings of the Mountain, Thror andThrain of the race of Durin, and of the

coming of the Dragon, and the fall of thelords of Dale. Some sang too that Throrand Thrain would come back one day andgold would flow in rivers, through themountain-gates, and all that land would befilled with new song and new laughter.But this pleasant legend did not muchaffect their daily business.

As soon as the raft of barrels came in sightboats rowed out from the piles of thetown, and voices hailed the raft-steerers.Then ropes were cast and oars werepulled, and soon the raft was drawn out ofthe current of the Forest River and towedaway round the high shoulder of rock intothe little bay of Lake-town. There it wasmoored not far from the shoreward headof the great bridge. Soon men would comeup from the South and take some of thecasks away, and others they would fillwith goods they had brought to be takenback up the stream to the Wood-elves’home. In the meanwhile the barrels wereleft afloat while the elves of the raft andthe boatmen went to feast in Lake-town.

They would have been surprised, if theycould have seen what happened down by

the shore, after they had gone and theshades of night had fallen. First of all abarrel was cut loose by Bilbo and pushedto the shore and opened. Groans camefrom inside, and out crept a most unhappydwarf. Wet straw was in his draggledbeard; he was so sore and stiff, so bruisedand buffeted he could hardly stand orstumble through the shallow water to liegroaning on the shore. He had a famishedand a savage look like a dog that has beenchained and forgotten in a kennel for aweek. It was Thorin, but you could onlyhave told it by his golden chain, and by thecolour of his now dirty and tattered sky-blue hood with its tarnished silver tassel.It was some time before he would be evenpolite to the hobbit.

“Well, are you alive or are you dead?”

asked Bilbo quite crossly. Perhaps he hadforgotten that he had had at least one goodmeal more than the dwarves, and also theuse of his arms and legs, not to speak of agreater allowance of air. “Are you still inprison, or are you free? If you want food,and if you want to go on with this sillyadventure—it’s yours after all and notmine—you had better slap your arms andrub your legs and try and help me get theothers out while there is a chance!”

Thorin of course saw the sense of this,so after a few more groans he got up andhelped the hobbit as well as he could. Inthe darkness floundering in the cold waterthey had a difficult and very nasty jobfinding which were the right barrels.Knocking outside and calling onlydiscovered about six dwarves that could

answer. These were unpacked and helpedashore where they sat or lay muttering andmoaning; they were so soaked and bruisedand cramped that they could hardly yetrealize their release or be properlythankful for it.

Dwalin and Balin were two of the mostunhappy, and it was no good asking themto help. Bifur and Bofur were lessknocked about and drier, but they laydown and would do nothing. Fili and Kili,however, who were young (for dwarves)and had also been packed more neatlywith plenty of straw into smaller casks,came out more or less smiling, with only abruise or two and a stiffness that soonwore off.

“I hope I never smell the smell ofapples again!” said Fili. “My tub was full

of it. To smell apples everlastingly whenyou can scarcely move and are cold andsick with hunger is maddening. I could eatanything in the wide world now, for hourson end—but not an apple!”

With the willing help of Fili and Kili,Thorin and Bilbo at last discovered theremainder of the company and got themout. Poor fat Bombur was asleep orsenseless; Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin and Gloinwere waterlogged and seemed only halfalive; they all had to be carried one byone and laid helpless on the shore.

“Well! Here we are!” said Thorin.“And I suppose we ought to thank ourstars and Mr. Baggins. I am sure he has aright to expect it, though I wish he couldhave arranged a more comfortablejourney. Still—all very much at your

service once more, Mr. Baggins. No doubtwe shall feel properly grateful, when weare fed and recovered. In the meanwhilewhat next?”

“I suggest Lake-town,” said Bilbo.“What else is there?”

Nothing else could, of course, besuggested; so leaving the others Thorinand Fili and Kili and the hobbit wentalong the shore to the great bridge. Therewere guards at the head of it, but theywere not keeping very careful watch, for itwas so long since there had been any realneed. Except for occasional squabblesabout river-tolls they were friends withthe Wood-elves. Other folk were faraway; and some of the younger people inthe town openly doubted the existence ofany dragon in the mountain, and laughed at

the greybeards and gammers who said thatthey had seen him flying in the sky in theiryoung days. That being so it is notsurprising that the guards were drinkingand laughing by a fire in their hut, and didnot hear the noise of the unpacking of thedwarves or the footsteps of the fourscouts. Their astonishment was enormouswhen Thorin Oakenshield stepped inthrough the door.

“Who are you and what do you want?”they shouted leaping to their feet andgroping for weapons.

“Thorin son of Thrain son of ThrorKing under the Mountain!” said the dwarfin a loud voice, and he looked it, in spiteof his torn clothes and draggled hood. Thegold gleamed on his neck and waist; hiseyes were dark and deep. “I have come

back. I wish to see the Master of yourtown!”

Then there was tremendous excitement.Some of the more foolish ran out of the hutas if they expected the Mountain to gogolden in the night and all the waters ofthe lake turn yellow right away. Thecaptain of the guard came forward.

“And who are these?” he asked,pointing to Fili and Kili and Bilbo.

“The sons of my father’s daughter,”answered Thorin, “Fili and Kili of therace of Durin, and Mr. Baggins who hastravelled with us out of the West.”

“If you come in peace lay down yourarms!” said the captain.

“We have none,” said Thorin, and itwas true enough: their knives had beentaken from them by the wood-elves, and

the great sword Orcrist too. Bilbo had hisshort sword, hidden as usual, but he saidnothing about that. “We have no need ofweapons, who return at last to our own asspoken of old. Nor could we fight againstso many. Take us to your master!”

“He is at feast,” said the captain.“Then all the more reason for taking us

to him,” burst in Fili, who was gettingimpatient at these solemnities. “We areworn and famished after our long road andwe have sick comrades. Now make hasteand let us have no more words, or yourmaster may have something to say to you.”

“Follow me then,” said the captain, andwith six men about them he led them overthe bridge through the gates and into themarket-place of the town. This was awide circle of quiet water surrounded by

the tall piles on which were built thegreater houses, and by long wooden quayswith many steps and ladders going downto the surface of the lake. From one greathall shone many lights and there came thesound of many voices. They passed itsdoors and stood blinking in the lightlooking at long tables filled with folk.

“I am Thorin son of Thrain son of ThrorKing under the Mountain! I return!” criedThorin in a loud voice from the door,before the captain could say anything.

All leaped to their feet. The Master ofthe town sprang from his great chair. Butnone rose in greater surprise than the raft-men of the elves who were sitting at thelower end of the hall. Pressing forwardbefore the Master’s table they cried:

“These are prisoners of our king that

have escaped, wandering vagabonddwarves that could not give any goodaccount of themselves, sneaking throughthe woods and molesting our people!”

“Is this true?” asked the Master. As amatter of fact he thought it far more likelythan the return of the King under theMountain, if any such person had everexisted.

“It is true that we were wrongfullywaylaid by the Elvenking and imprisonedwithout cause as we journeyed back to ourown land,” answered Thorin. “But locknor bar may hinder the homecomingspoken of old. Nor is this town in theWood-elves’ realm. I speak to the Masterof the town of the Men of the Lake, not tothe raft-men of the king.”

Then the Master hesitated and looked

from one to the other. The Elvenking wasvery powerful in those parts and theMaster wished for no enmity with him, nordid he think much of old songs, giving hismind to trade and tolls, to cargoes andgold, to which habit he owed his position.Others were of different mind, however,and quickly the matter was settled withouthim. The news had spread from the doorsof the hall like fire through all the town.People were shouting inside the hall andoutside it. The quays were thronged withhurrying feet. Some began to sing snatchesof old songs concerning the return of theKing under the Mountain; that it wasThror’s grandson not Thror himself thathad come back did not bother them at all.Others took up the song and it rolled loudand high over the lake.

The King beneath the mountains, The King of carven stone,The lord of silver fountains Shall come into his own!

His crown shall be upholden, His harp shall be restrung,His halls shall echo golden To songs of yore re-sung.

The woods shall wave on mountains And grass beneath the sun;His wealth shall flow in fountains And the rivers golden run.

The streams shall run in gladness, The lakes shall shine and burn,

All sorrow fail and sadness At the Mountain-king’s return!

So they sang, or very like that, onlythere was a great deal more of it, andthere was much shouting as well as themusic of harps and of fiddles mixed upwith it. Indeed such excitement had notbeen known in the town in the memory ofthe oldest grandfather. The Wood-elvesthemselves began to wonder greatly andeven to be afraid. They did not know ofcourse how Thorin had escaped, and theybegan to think their king might have madea serious mistake. As for the Master hesaw there was nothing else for it but toobey the general clamour, for the momentat any rate, and to pretend to believe that

Thorin was what he said. So he gave up tohim his own great chair and set Fili andKili beside him in places of honour. EvenBilbo was given a seat at the high table,and no explanation of where he came in—no songs had alluded to him even in theobscurest way—was asked for in thegeneral bustle.

Soon afterwards the other dwarveswere brought into the town amid scenes ofastonishing enthusiasm. They were alldoctored and fed and housed andpampered in the most delightful andsatisfactory fashion. A large house wasgiven up to Thorin and his company; boatsand rowers were put at their service; andcrowds sat outside and sang songs all day,or cheered if any dwarf showed so muchas his nose.

Some of the songs were old ones; butsome of them were quite new and spokeconfidently of the sudden death of thedragon and of cargoes of rich presentscoming down the river to Lake-town.These were inspired largely by the Masterand they did not particularly please thedwarves, but in the meantime they werewell contented and they quickly grew fatand strong again. Indeed within a weekthey were quite recovered, fitted out infine cloth of their proper colours, withbeards combed and trimmed, and proudsteps. Thorin looked and walked as if hiskingdom was already regained and Smaugchopped up into little pieces.

Then, as he had said, the dwarves’good feeling towards the little hobbitgrew stronger every day. There were no

more groans or grumbles. They drank hishealth, and they patted him on the back,and they made a great fuss of him; whichwas just as well, for he was not feelingparticularly cheerful. He had not forgottenthe look of the Mountain, nor the thoughtof the dragon, and he had besides ashocking cold. For three days he sneezedand coughed, and he could not go out, andeven after that his speeches at banquetswere limited to “Thag you very buch.”

In the meanwhile the Wood-elves hadgone back up the Forest River with theircargoes, and there was great excitement inthe king’s palace. I have never heard whathappened to the chief of the guards and the

butler. Nothing of course was ever saidabout keys or barrels while the dwarvesstayed in Lake-town, and Bilbo wascareful never to become invisible. Still, Idaresay, more was guessed than wasknown, though doubtless Mr. Bagginsremained a bit of a mystery. In any casethe king knew now the dwarves’ errand,or thought he did, and he said to himself:

“Very well! We’ll see! No treasurewill come back through Mirkwoodwithout my having something to say in thematter. But I expect they will all come to abad end, and serve them right!” He at anyrate did not believe in dwarves fightingand killing dragons like Smaug, and hestrongly suspected attempted burglary orsomething like it—which shows he was awise elf and wiser than the men of the

town, though not quite right, as we shallsee in the end. He sent out his spies aboutthe shores of the lake and as far northwardtowards the Mountain as they would go,and waited.

At the end of a fortnight Thorin began tothink of departure. While the enthusiasmstill lasted in the town was the time to gethelp. It would not do to let everything cooldown with delay. So he spoke to theMaster and his councillors and said thatsoon he and his company must go ontowards the Mountain.

Then for the first time the Master wassurprised and a little frightened; and hewondered if Thorin was after all really adescendant of the old kings. He had neverthought that the dwarves would actuallydare to approach Smaug, but believed they

were frauds who would sooner or later bediscovered and be turned out. He waswrong. Thorin, of course, was really thegrandson of the King under the Mountain,and there is no knowing what a dwarf willnot dare and do for revenge or therecovery of his own.

But the Master was not sorry at all tolet them go. They were expensive to keep,and their arrival had turned things into along holiday in which business was at astandstill. “Let them go and bother Smaug,and see how he welcomes them!” hethought. “Certainly, O Thorin Thrain’s sonThror’s son!” was what he said. “Youmust claim your own. The hour is at hand,spoken of old. What help we can offershall be yours, and we trust to yourgratitude when your kingdom is regained.”

So one day, although autumn was nowgetting far on, and winds were cold, andleaves were falling fast, three large boatsleft Lake-town, laden with rowers,dwarves, Mr. Baggins, and manyprovisions. Horses and ponies had beensent round by circuitous paths to meetthem at their appointed landing-place. TheMaster and his councillors bade themfarewell from the great steps of the town-hall that went down to the lake. Peoplesang on the quays and out of windows.The white oars dipped and splashed, andoff they went north up the lake on the laststage of their long journey. The onlyperson thoroughly unhappy was Bilbo.

Chapter XI

ON THE DOORSTEP

In two days going they rowed right up theLong Lake and passed out into the RiverRunning, and now they could all see theLonely Mountain towering grim and tallbefore them. The stream was strong andtheir going slow. At the end of the thirdday, some miles up the river, they drew into the left or western bank anddisembarked. Here they were joined bythe horses with other provisions andnecessaries and the ponies for their ownuse that had been sent to meet them. They

packed what they could on the ponies andthe rest was made into a store under a tent,but none of the men of the town would staywith them even for the night so near theshadow of the Mountain.

“Not at any rate until the songs havecome true!” said they. It was easier tobelieve in the Dragon and less easy tobelieve in Thorin in these wild parts.Indeed their stores had no need of anyguard, for all the land was desolate andempty. So their escort left them, makingoff swiftly down the river and theshoreward paths, although the night wasalready drawing on.

They spent a cold and lonely night andtheir spirits fell. The next day they set outagain. Balin and Bilbo rode behind, eachleading another pony heavily laden beside

him; the others were some way aheadpicking out a slow road, for there were nopaths. They made north-west, slantingaway from the River Running, anddrawing ever nearer and nearer to a greatspur of the Mountain that was flung outsouthwards towards them.

It was a weary journey, and a quiet andstealthy one. There was no laughter orsong or sound of harps, and the pride andhopes which had stirred in their hearts atthe singing of old songs by the lake diedaway to a plodding gloom. They knew thatthey were drawing near to the end of theirjourney, and that it might be a veryhorrible end. The land about them grewbleak and barren, though once, as Thorintold them, it had been green and fair.There was little grass, and before long

there was neither bush nor tree, and onlybroken and blackened stumps to speak ofones long vanished. They were come tothe Desolation of the Dragon, and theywere come at the waning of the year.

They reached the skirts of the Mountain allthe same without meeting any danger orany sign of the Dragon other than thewilderness he had made about his lair.The Mountain lay dark and silent beforethem and ever higher above them. Theymade their first camp on the western sideof the great southern spur, which ended ina height called Ravenhill. On this therehad been an old watch-post; but theydared not climb it yet, it was too exposed.

Before setting out to search the westernspurs of the Mountain for the hidden door,on which all their hopes rested, Thorinsent out a scouting expedition to spy outthe land to the South where the Front

Gate stood. For this purpose he choseBalin and Fili and Kili, and with themwent Bilbo. They marched under the greyand silent cliffs to the feet of Ravenhill.There the river, after winding a wide loopover the valley of Dale, turned from theMountain on its road to the Lake, flowingswift and noisily. Its bank was bare androcky, tall and steep above the stream; andgazing out from it over the narrow water,foaming and splashing among manyboulders, they could see in the widevalley shadowed by the Mountain’s armsthe grey ruins of ancient houses, towers,

and walls.“There lies all that is left of Dale,” said

Balin. “The mountain’s sides were greenwith woods and all the sheltered valleyrich and pleasant in the days when thebells rang in that town.” He looked bothsad and grim as he said this: he had beenone of Thorin’s companions on the day theDragon came.

They did not dare to follow the rivermuch further towards the Gate; but theywent on beyond the end of the southernspur, until lying hidden behind a rock theycould look out and see the dark cavernousopening in a great cliff-wall between thearms of the Mountain. Out of it the watersof the Running River sprang; and out of ittoo there came a steam and a dark smoke.Nothing moved in the waste, save the

vapour and the water, and every now andagain a black and ominous crow. The onlysound was the sound of the stony water,and every now and again the harsh croakof a bird. Balin shuddered.

“Let us return!” he said. “We can do nogood here! And I don’t like these darkbirds, they look like spies of evil.”

The Front Gate.

“The dragon is still alive and in thehalls under the Mountain then—or Iimagine so from the smoke,” said thehobbit.

“That does not prove it,” said Balin,“though I don’t doubt you are right. But hemight be gone away some time, or hemight be lying out on the mountain-sidekeeping watch, and still I expect smokesand steams would come out of the gates:all the halls within must be filled with hisfoul reek.”

With such gloomy thoughts, followed everby croaking crows above them, they made

their weary way back to the camp. Only inJune they had been guests in the fair houseof Elrond, and though autumn was nowcrawling towards winter that pleasanttime now seemed years ago. They werealone in the perilous waste without hopeof further help. They were at the end oftheir journey, but as far as ever, it seemed,from the end of their quest. None of themhad much spirit left.

Now strange to say Mr. Baggins hadmore than the others. He would oftenborrow Thorin’s map and gaze at it,pondering over the runes and the messageof the moon-letters Elrond had read. Itwas he that made the dwarves begin thedangerous search on the western slopesfor the secret door. They moved theircamp then to a long valley, narrower than

the great dale in the South where the Gatesof the river stood, and walled with lowerspurs of the Mountain. Two of these herethrust forward west from the main mass inlong steep-sided ridges that fell everdownwards towards the plain. On thiswestern side there were fewer signs of thedragon’s marauding feet, and there wassome grass for their ponies. From thiswestern camp, shadowed all day by cliffand wall until the sun began to sinktowards the forest, day by day they toiledin parties searching for paths up themountain-side. If the map was true,somewhere high above the cliff at thevalley’s head must stand the secret door.Day by day they came back to their campwithout success.

But at last unexpectedly they found what

they were seeking. Fili and Kili and thehobbit went back one day down the valleyand scrambled among the tumbled rocks atits southern corner. About midday,creeping behind a great stone that stoodalone like a pillar, Bilbo came on whatlooked like rough steps going upwards.Following these excitedly he and thedwarves found traces of a narrow track,often lost, often rediscovered, thatwandered on to the top of the southernridge and brought them at last to a stillnarrower ledge, which turned north acrossthe face of the Mountain. Looking downthey saw that they were at the top of thecliff at the valley’s head and were gazingdown on to their own camp below.Silently, clinging to the rocky wall ontheir right, they went in single file along

the ledge, till the wall opened and theyturned into a little steep-walled bay,grassy-floored, still and quiet. Its entrancewhich they had found could not be seenfrom below because of the overhang of thecliff, nor from further off because it wasso small that it looked like a dark crackand no more. It was not a cave and wasopen to the sky above; but at its inner enda flat wall rose up that in the lower part,close to the ground, was as smooth andupright as masons’ work, but without ajoint or crevice to be seen. No sign wasthere of post or lintel or threshold, nor anysign of bar or bolt or key-hole; yet theydid not doubt that they had found the doorat last.

They beat on it, they thrust and pushedat it, they implored it to move, they spoke

fragments of broken spells of opening, andnothing stirred. At last tired out theyrested on the grass at its feet, and then atevening began their long climb down.

There was excitement in the camp thatnight. In the morning they prepared tomove once more. Only Bofur and Bomburwere left behind to guard the ponies andsuch stores as they had brought with themfrom the river. The others went down thevalley and up the newly found path, and soto the narrow ledge. Along this they couldcarry no bundles or packs, so narrow andbreathless was it, with a fall of a hundredand fifty feet beside them on to sharprocks below; but each of them took a good

coil of rope wound tight about his waist,and so at last without mishap they reachedthe little grassy bay.

There they made their third camp,hauling up what they needed from belowwith their ropes. Down the same way theywere able occasionally to lower one ofthe more active dwarves, such as Kili, toexchange such news as there was, or totake a share in the guard below, whileBofur was hauled up to the higher camp.Bombur would not come up either therope or the path.

“I am too fat for such fly-walks,” hesaid. “I should turn dizzy and tread on mybeard, and then you would be thirteenagain. And the knotted ropes are tooslender for my weight.” Luckily for himthat was not true, as you will see.

In the meanwhile some of them exploredthe ledge beyond the opening and found apath that led higher and higher on to themountain; but they did not dare to venturevery far that way, nor was there much usein it. Out up there a silence reigned,broken by no bird or sound except that ofthe wind in the crannies of stone. Theyspoke low and never called or sang, fordanger brooded in every rock. The otherswho were busy with the secret of the doorhad no more success. They were too eagerto trouble about the runes or the moon-letters, but tried without resting todiscover where exactly in the smooth faceof the rock the door was hidden. They hadbrought picks and tools of many sorts fromLake-town, and at first they tried to usethese. But when they struck the stone the

handles splintered and jarred their armscruelly, and the steel heads broke or bentlike lead. Mining work, they saw clearly,was no good against the magic that hadshut this door; and they grew terrified, too,of the echoing noise.

Bilbo found sitting on the doorsteplonesome and wearisome—there was nota doorstep, of course, really, but they usedto call the little grassy space between thewall and the opening the “doorstep” infun, remembering Bilbo’s words long agoat the unexpected party in his hobbit-hole,when he said they could sit on thedoorstep till they thought of something.And sit and think they did, or wanderedaimlessly about, and glummer andglummer they became.

Their spirits had risen a little at the

discovery of the path, but now they sankinto their boots; and yet they would notgive it up and go away. The hobbit was nolonger much brighter than the dwarves. Hewould do nothing but sit with his back tothe rock-face and stare away west throughthe opening, over the cliff, over the widelands to the black wall of Mirkwood, andto the distances beyond, in which hesometimes thought he could catchglimpses of the Misty Mountains smalland far. If the dwarves asked him what hewas doing he answered:

“You said sitting on the doorstep andthinking would be my job, not to mentiongetting inside, so I am sitting andthinking.” But I am afraid he was notthinking much of the job, but of what laybeyond the blue distance, the quiet

Western Land and the Hill and his hobbit-hole under it.

A large grey stone lay in the centre ofthe grass and he stared moodily at it orwatched the great snails. They seemed tolove the little shut-in bay with its walls ofcool rock, and there were many of them ofhuge size crawling slowly and stickilyalong its sides.

“Tomorrow begins the last week ofautumn,” said Thorin one day.

“And winter comes after autumn,” saidBifur. “And next year after that,” saidDwalin, “and our beards will grow tillthey hang down the cliff to the valleybefore anything happens here. What is our

burglar doing for us? Since he has got aninvisible ring, and ought to be a speciallyexcellent performer now, I am beginningto think he might go through the Front Gateand spy things out a bit!”

Bilbo heard this—the dwarves were onthe rocks just above the enclosure wherehe was sitting—and “Good Gracious!” hethought, “so that is what they are beginningto think, is it? It is always poor me thathas to get them out of their difficulties, atleast since the wizard left. Whatever am Igoing to do? I might have known thatsomething dreadful would happen to me inthe end. I don’t think I could bear to seethe unhappy valley of Dale again, and asfor that steaming gate! ! !”

That night he was very miserable andhardly slept. Next day the dwarves all

went wandering off in various directions;some were exercising the ponies downbelow, some were roving about themountain-side. All day Bilbo sat gloomilyin the grassy bay gazing at the stone, or outwest through the narrow opening. He hada queer feeling that he was waiting forsomething. “Perhaps the wizard willsuddenly come back today,” he thought.

If he lifted his head he could see aglimpse of the distant forest. As the sunturned west there was a gleam of yellowupon its far roof, as if the light caught thelast pale leaves. Soon he saw the orangeball of the sun sinking towards the level ofhis eyes. He went to the opening and therepale and faint was a thin new moon abovethe rim of Earth.

At that very moment he heard a sharp

crack behind him. There on the grey stonein the grass was an enormous thrush,nearly coal black, its pale yellow breastfreckled with dark spots. Crack! It hadcaught a snail and was knocking it on thestone. Crack! Crack!

Suddenly Bilbo understood. Forgettingall danger he stood on the ledge andhailed the dwarves, shouting and waving.Those that were nearest came tumblingover the rocks and as fast as they couldalong the ledge to him, wondering what onearth was the matter; the others shouted tobe hauled up the ropes (except Bombur, ofcourse: he was asleep).

Quickly Bilbo explained. They all fellsilent: the hobbit standing by the greystone, and the dwarves with waggingbeards watching impatiently. The sun sank

lower and lower, and their hopes fell. Itsank into a belt of reddened cloud anddisappeared. The dwarves groaned, butstill Bilbo stood almost without moving.The little moon was dipping to thehorizon. Evening was coming on. Thensuddenly when their hope was lowest ared ray of the sun escaped like a fingerthrough a rent in the cloud. A gleam oflight came straight through the openinginto the bay and fell on the smooth rock-face. The old thrush, who had beenwatching from a high perch with beadyeyes and head cocked on one side, gave asudden trill. There was a loud crack. Aflake of rock split from the wall and fell.A hole appeared suddenly about three feetfrom the ground.

Quickly, trembling lest the chance

should fade, the dwarves rushed to therock and pushed—in vain.

“The key! The key!” cried Bilbo.“Where is Thorin?”

Thorin hurried up.“The key!” shouted Bilbo. “The key that

went with the map! Try it now while thereis still time!”

Then Thorin stepped up and drew thekey on its chain from round his neck. Heput it to the hole. It fitted and it turned!Snap! The gleam went out, the sun sank,the moon was gone, and evening spranginto the sky.

Now they all pushed together, andslowly a part of the rock-wall gave way.Long straight cracks appeared andwidened. A door five feet high and threebroad was outlined, and slowly without a

sound swung inwards. It seemed as ifdarkness flowed out like a vapour fromthe hole in the mountain-side, and deepdarkness in which nothing could be seenlay before their eyes, a yawning mouthleading in and down.

Chapter XII

INSIDE INFORMATION

For a long time the dwarves stood in thedark before the door and debated, until atlast Thorin spoke:

“Now is the time for our esteemed Mr.Baggins, who has proved himself a goodcompanion on our long road, and a hobbitfull of courage and resource far exceedinghis size, and if I may say so possessed ofgood luck far exceeding the usualallowance—now is the time for him toperform the service for which he wasincluded in our Company; now is the time

for him to earn his Reward.”You are familiar with Thorin’s style on

important occasions, so I will not give youany more of it, though he went on a gooddeal longer than this. It certainly was animportant occasion, but Bilbo feltimpatient. By now he was quite familiarwith Thorin too, and he knew what he wasdriving at.

“If you mean you think it is my job to gointo the secret passage first, O ThorinThrain’s son Oakenshield, may your beardgrow ever longer,” he said crossly, “sayso at once and have done! I might refuse. Ihave got you out of two messes already,which were hardly in the original bargain,so that I am, I think, already owed somereward. But ‘third time pays for all’ as myfather used to say, and somehow I don’t

think I shall refuse. Perhaps I have begunto trust my luck more than I used to in theold days”—he meant last spring before heleft his own house, but it seemed centuriesago—“but anyway I think I will go andhave a peep at once and get it over. Nowwho is coming with me?”

He did not expect a chorus ofvolunteers, so he was not disappointed.Fili and Kili looked uncomfortable andstood on one leg, but the others made nopretence of offering—except old Balin,the lookout man, who was rather fond ofthe hobbit. He said he would come insideat least and perhaps a bit of the way too,ready to call for help if necessary.

The most that can be said for thedwarves is this: they intended to payBilbo really handsomely for his services;

they had brought him to do a nasty job forthem, and they did not mind the poor littlefellow doing it if he would; but theywould all have done their best to get himout of trouble, if he got into it, as they didin the case of the trolls at the beginning oftheir adventures before they had anyparticular reasons for being grateful tohim. There it is: dwarves are not heroes,but calculating folk with a great idea ofthe value of money; some are tricky andtreacherous and pretty bad lots; some arenot, but are decent enough people likeThorin and Company, if you don’t expecttoo much.

The stars were coming out behind him in a

pale sky barred with black when thehobbit crept through the enchanted doorand stole into the Mountain. It was fareasier going than he expected. This wasno goblin entrance, or rough wood-elves’cave. It was a passage made by dwarves,at the height of their wealth and skill:straight as a ruler, smooth-floored andsmooth-sided, going with a gentle never-varying slope direct—to some distant endin the blackness below.

After a while Balin bade Bilbo “Goodluck!” and stopped where he could stillsee the faint outline of the door, and by atrick of the echoes of the tunnel hear therustle of the whispering voices of theothers just outside. Then the hobbitslipped on his ring, and warned by theechoes to take more than hobbit’s care to

make no sound, he crept noiselessly down,down, down into the dark. He wastrembling with fear, but his little face wasset and grim. Already he was a verydifferent hobbit from the one that had runout without a pocket-handkerchief fromBag-End long ago. He had not had apocket-handkerchief for ages. Heloosened his dagger in its sheath, tightenedhis belt, and went on.

“Now you are in for it at last, BilboBaggins,” he said to himself. “You wentand put your foot right in it that night of theparty, and now you have got to pull it outand pay for it! Dear me, what a fool I wasand am!” said the least Tookish part of

him. “I have absolutely no use for dragon-guarded treasures, and the whole lot couldstay here for ever, if only I could wake upand find this beastly tunnel was my ownfront-hall at home!”

He did not wake up of course, but wentstill on and on, till all sign of the doorbehind had faded away. He was altogetheralone. Soon he thought it was beginning tofeel warm. “Is that a kind of a glow I seemto see coming right ahead down there?” hethought.

It was. As he went forward it grew andgrew, till there was no doubt about it. Itwas a red light steadily getting redder andredder. Also it was now undoubtedly hotin the tunnel. Wisps of vapour floated upand past him and he began to sweat. Asound, too, began to throb in his ears, a

sort of bubbling like the noise of a largepot galloping on the fire, mixed with arumble as of a gigantic tom-cat purring.This grew to the unmistakable gurglingnoise of some vast animal snoring in itssleep down there in the red glow in frontof him.

It was at this point that Bilbo stopped.Going on from there was the bravest thinghe ever did. The tremendous things thathappened afterwards were as nothingcompared to it. He fought the real battle inthe tunnel alone, before he ever saw thevast danger that lay in wait. At any rateafter a short halt go on he did; and you canpicture him coming to the end of thetunnel, an opening of much the same sizeand shape as the door above. Through itpeeps the hobbit’s little head. Before him

lies the great bottom-most cellar ordungeon-hall of the ancient dwarves rightat the Mountain’s root. It is almost dark sothat its vastness can only be dimlyguessed, but rising from the near side ofthe rocky floor there is a great glow. Theglow of Smaug!

There he lay, a vast red-golden dragon,fast asleep; a thrumming came from hisjaws and nostrils, and wisps of smoke, buthis fires were low in slumber. Beneathhim, under all his limbs and his hugecoiled tail, and about him on all sidesstretching away across the unseen floors,lay countless piles of precious things, goldwrought and unwrought, gems and jewels,

and silver red-stained in the ruddy light.Smaug lay, with wings folded like an

immeasurable bat, turned partly on oneside, so that the hobbit could see hisunderparts and his long pale belly crustedwith gems and fragments of gold from hislong lying on his costly bed. Behind himwhere the walls were nearest could dimlybe seen coats of mail, helms and axes,swords and spears hanging; and there inrows stood great jars and vessels filledwith a wealth that could not be guessed.

To say that Bilbo’s breath was takenaway is no description at all. There are nowords left to express his staggerment,since Men changed the language that theylearned of elves in the days when all theworld was wonderful. Bilbo had heardtell and sing of dragon-hoards before, but

the splendour, the lust, the glory of suchtreasure had never yet come home to him.His heart was filled and pierced withenchantment and with the desire ofdwarves; and he gazed motionless, almostforgetting the frightful guardian, at the goldbeyond price and count.

He gazed for what seemed an age, beforedrawn almost against his will, he stolefrom the shadow of the doorway, acrossthe floor to the nearest edge of the moundsof treasure. Above him the sleepingdragon lay, a dire menace even in hissleep. He grasped a great two-handledcup, as heavy as he could carry, and castone fearful eye upwards. Smaug stirred a

wing, opened a claw, the rumble of hissnoring changed its note.

Then Bilbo fled. But the dragon did notwake—not yet—but shifted into otherdreams of greed and violence, lying therein his stolen hall while the little hobbittoiled back up the long tunnel. His heartwas beating and a more fevered shakingwas in his legs than when he was goingdown, but still he clutched the cup, and hischief thought was: “I’ve done it! This willshow them. ‘More like a grocer than aburglar’ indeed! Well, we’ll hear no moreof that.”

Nor did he. Balin was overjoyed to seethe hobbit again, and as delighted as hewas surprised. He picked Bilbo up andcarried him out into the open air. It wasmidnight and clouds had covered the stars,

but Bilbo lay with his eyes shut, gaspingand taking pleasure in the feel of the freshair again, and hardly noticing theexcitement of the dwarves, or how theypraised him and patted him on the backand put themselves and all their familiesfor generations to come at his service.

The dwarves were still passing the cupfrom hand to hand and talking delightedlyof the recovery of their treasure, whensuddenly a vast rumbling woke in themountain underneath as if it was an oldvolcano that had made up its mind to starteruptions once again. The door behindthem was pulled nearly to, and blockedfrom closing with a stone, but up the long

tunnel came the dreadful echoes, from fardown in the depths, of a bellowing and atrampling that made the ground beneaththem tremble.

Then the dwarves forgot their joy andtheir confident boasts of a moment beforeand cowered down in fright. Smaug wasstill to be reckoned with. It does not do toleave a live dragon out of yourcalculations, if you live near him. Dragonsmay not have much real use for all theirwealth, but they know it to an ounce as arule, especially after long possession; andSmaug was no exception. He had passedfrom an uneasy dream (in which awarrior, altogether insignificant in size butprovided with a bitter sword and greatcourage, figured most unpleasantly) to adoze, and from a doze to wide waking.

There was a breath of strange air in hiscave. Could there be a draught from thatlittle hole? He had never felt quite happyabout it, though it was so small, and nowhe glared at it in suspicion and wonderedwhy he had never blocked it up. Of late hehad half fancied he had caught the dimechoes of a knocking sound from farabove that came down through it to hislair. He stirred and stretched forth hisneck to sniff. Then he missed the cup!

Thieves! Fire! Murder! Such a thing hadnot happened since first he came to theMountain! His rage passes description—the sort of rage that is only seen when richfolk that have more than they can enjoysuddenly lose something that they havelong had but have never before used orwanted. His fire belched forth, the hall

smoked, he shook the mountain-roots. Hethrust his head in vain at the little hole,and then coiling his length together,roaring like thunder underground, he spedfrom his deep lair through its great door,out into the huge passages of the mountain-palace and up towards the Front Gate.

To hunt the whole mountain till he hadcaught the thief and had torn and trampledhim was his one thought. He issued fromthe Gate, the waters rose in fiercewhistling steam, and up he soared blazinginto the air and settled on the mountain-topin a spout of green and scarlet flame. Thedwarves heard the awful rumour of hisflight, and they crouched against the wallsof the grassy terrace cringing underboulders, hoping somehow to escape thefrightful eyes of the hunting dragon.

There they would have all been killed,if it had not been for Bilbo once again.“Quick! Quick!” he gasped. “The door!The tunnel! It’s no good here.”

Roused by these words they were justabout to creep inside the tunnel whenBifur gave a cry: “My cousins! Bomburand Bofur—we have forgotten them, theyare down in the valley!”

“They will be slain, and all our poniestoo, and all our stores lost,” moaned theothers. “We can do nothing.”

“Nonsense!” said Thorin, recoveringhis dignity. “We cannot leave them. Getinside Mr. Baggins and Balin, and youtwo Fili and Kili—the dragon shan’t haveall of us. Now you others, where are theropes? Be quick!”

Those were perhaps the worst moments

they had been through yet. The horriblesounds of Smaug’s anger were echoing inthe stony hollows far above; at anymoment he might come blazing down orfly whirling round and find them there,near the perilous cliff’s edge haulingmadly on the ropes. Up came Bofur, andstill all was safe. Up came Bombur,puffing and blowing while the ropescreaked, and still all was safe. Up camesome tools and bundles of stores, and thendanger was upon them.

A whirring noise was heard. A red lighttouched the points of standing rocks. Thedragon came.

They had barely time to fly back to thetunnel, pulling and dragging in theirbundles, when Smaug came hurtling fromthe North, licking the mountain-sides with

flame, beating his great wings with a noiselike a roaring wind. His hot breathshrivelled the grass before the door, anddrove in through the crack they had leftand scorched them as they lay hid.Flickering fires leaped up and black rock-shadows danced. Then darkness fell as hepassed again. The ponies screamed withterror, burst their ropes and gallopedwildly off. The dragon swooped andturned to pursue them, and was gone.

“That’ll be the end of our poor beasts!”said Thorin. “Nothing can escape Smaugonce he sees it. Here we are and here weshall have to stay, unless any one fanciestramping the long open miles back to theriver with Smaug on the watch!”

It was not a pleasant thought! Theycrept further down the tunnel, and there

they lay and shivered though it was warmand stuffy, until dawn came pale throughthe crack of the door. Every now andagain through the night they could hear theroar of the flying dragon grow and thenpass and fade, as he hunted round andround the mountain-sides.

He guessed from the ponies, and fromthe traces of the camps he had discovered,that men had come up from the river andthe lake and had scaled the mountain-sidefrom the valley where the ponies had beenstanding; but the door withstood hissearching eye, and the little high-walledbay had kept out his fiercest flames. Longhe had hunted in vain till the dawn chilledhis wrath and he went back to his goldencouch to sleep—and to gather newstrength. He would not forget or forgive

the theft, not if a thousand years turned himto smouldering stone, but he could affordto wait. Slow and silent he crept back tohis lair and half closed his eyes.

When morning came the terror of thedwarves grew less. They realized thatdangers of this kind were inevitable indealing with such a guardian, and that itwas no good giving up their quest yet. Norcould they get away just now, as Thorinhad pointed out. Their ponies were lost orkilled, and they would have to wait sometime before Smaug relaxed his watchsufficiently for them to dare the long wayon foot. Luckily they had saved enough oftheir stores to last them still for sometime.

They debated long on what was to bedone, but they could think of no way of

getting rid of Smaug—which had alwaysbeen a weak point in their plans, as Bilbofelt inclined to point out. Then as is thenature of folk that are thoroughlyperplexed, they began to grumble at thehobbit, blaming him for what had at firstso pleased them: for bringing away a cupand stirring up Smaug’s wrath so soon.

“What else do you suppose a burglar isto do?” asked Bilbo angrily. “I was notengaged to kill dragons, that is warrior’swork, but to steal treasure. I made the bestbeginning I could. Did you expect me totrot back with the whole hoard of Thror onmy back? If there is any grumbling to bedone, I think I might have a say. You oughtto have brought five hundred burglars notone. I am sure it reflects great credit onyour grandfather, but you cannot pretend

that you ever made the vast extent of hiswealth clear to me. I should wanthundreds of years to bring it all up, if Iwas fifty times as big, and Smaug as tameas a rabbit.”

After that of course the dwarves beggedhis pardon. “What then do you propose weshould do, Mr. Baggins?” asked Thorinpolitely.

“I have no idea at the moment—if youmean about removing the treasure. Thatobviously depends entirely on some newturn of luck and the getting rid of Smaug.Getting rid of dragons is not at all in myline, but I will do my best to think about it.Personally I have no hopes at all, andwish I was safe back at home.”

“Never mind that for the moment! Whatare we to do now, to-day?”

“Well, if you really want my advice, Ishould say we can do nothing but staywhere we are. By day we can no doubtcreep out safely enough to take the air.Perhaps before long one or two could bechosen to go back to the store by the riverand replenish our supplies. But in themeanwhile everyone ought to be wellinside the tunnel by night.

“Now I will make you an offer. I havegot my ring and will creep down this verynoon—then if ever Smaug ought to benapping—and see what he is up to.Perhaps something will turn up. ‘Everyworm has his weak spot,’ as my fatherused to say, though I am sure it was notfrom personal experience.”

Naturally the dwarves accepted theoffer eagerly. Already they had come to

respect little Bilbo. Now he had becomethe real leader in their adventure. He hadbegun to have ideas and plans of his own.When midday came he got ready foranother journey down into the Mountain.He did not like it of course, but it was notso bad now he knew, more or less, whatwas in front of him. Had he known moreabout dragons and their wily ways, hemight have been more frightened and lesshopeful of catching this one napping.

The sun was shining when he started,but it was as dark as night in the tunnel.The light from the door, almost closed,soon faded as he went down. So silentwas his going that smoke on a gentle windcould hardly have surpassed it, and hewas inclined to feel a bit proud of himselfas he drew near the lower door. There

was only the very faintest glow to be seen.“Old Smaug is weary and asleep,” he

thought. “He can’t see me and he won’thear me. Cheer up Bilbo!” He hadforgotten or had never heard aboutdragons’ sense of smell. It is also anawkward fact that they can keep half aneye open watching while they sleep, ifthey are suspicious.

Smaug certainly looked fast asleep,almost dead and dark, with scarcely asnore more than a whiff of unseen steam,when Bilbo peeped once more from theentrance. He was just about to step out onto the floor when he caught a sudden thinand piercing ray of red from under thedrooping lid of Smaug’s left eye. He wasonly pretending to sleep! He was watchingthe tunnel entrance! Hurriedly Bilbo

stepped back and blessed the luck of hisring. Then Smaug spoke.

“Well, thief! I smell you and I feel yourair. I hear your breath. Come along! Helpyourself again, there is plenty and tospare!”

But Bilbo was not quite so unlearned indragon-lore as all that, and if Smaughoped to get him to come nearer so easilyhe was disappointed. “No thank you, OSmaug the Tremendous!” he replied.

“I did not come for presents. I onlywished to have a look at you and see ifyou were truly as great as tales say. I didnot believe them.”

“Do you now?” said the dragon

somewhat flattered, even though he did notbelieve a word of it.

“Truly songs and tales fall utterly shortof the reality, O Smaug the Chiefest andGreatest of Calamities,” replied Bilbo.

“You have nice manners for a thief anda liar,” said the dragon. “You seemfamiliar with my name, but I don’t seem toremember smelling you before. Who areyou and where do you come from, may Iask?”

“You may indeed! I come from underthe hill, and under the hills and over thehills my paths led. And through the air. Iam he that walks unseen.”

“So I can well believe,” said Smaug,“but that is hardly your usual name.”

“I am the clue-finder, the web-cutter,the stinging fly. I was chosen for the lucky

number.”“Lovely titles!” sneered the dragon.

“But lucky numbers don’t always comeoff.”

“I am he that buries his friends aliveand drowns them and draws them aliveagain from the water. I came from the endof a bag, but no bag went over me.”

“These don’t sound so creditable,”scoffed Smaug. “I am the friend of bearsand the guest of eagles. I am Ringwinnerand Luckwearer; and I am Barrel-rider,”went on Bilbo beginning to be pleasedwith his riddling.

“That’s better!” said Smaug. “But don’tlet your imagination run away with you!”

This of course is the way to talk todragons, if you don’t want to reveal yourproper name (which is wise), and don’twant to infuriate them by a flat refusal(which is also very wise). No dragon canresist the fascination of riddling talk andof wasting time trying to understand it.There was a lot here which Smaug did notunderstand at all (though I expect you do,since you know all about Bilbo’sadventures to which he was referring), buthe thought he understood enough, and hechuckled in his wicked inside.

“I thought so last night,” he smiled tohimself. “Lake-men, some nasty scheme ofthose miserable tub-trading Lake-men, orI’m a lizard. I haven’t been down that wayfor an age and an age; but I will soon alterthat!”

“Very well, O Barrel-rider!” he saidaloud. “Maybe Barrel was your pony’sname; and maybe not, though it was fatenough. You may walk unseen, but you didnot walk all the way. Let me tell you I atesix ponies last night and I shall catch andeat all the others before long. In return forthe excellent meal I will give you onepiece of advice for your good: don’t havemore to do with dwarves than you canhelp!”

“Dwarves!” said Bilbo in pretendedsurprise. “Don’t talk to me!” said Smaug.“I know the smell (and taste) of dwarf—no one better. Don’t tell me that I can eat adwarf-ridden pony and not know it!You’ll come to a bad end, if you go withsuch friends, Thief Barrel-rider. I don’tmind if you go back and tell them so from

me.” But he did not tell Bilbo that therewas one smell he could not make out atall, hobbit-smell; it was quite outside hisexperience and puzzled him mightily.

“I suppose you got a fair price for thatcup last night?” he went on. “Come now,did you? Nothing at all! Well, that’s justlike them. And I suppose they are skulkingoutside, and your job is to do all thedangerous work and get what you canwhen I’m not looking—for them? And youwill get a fair share? Don’t you believe it!If you get off alive, you will be lucky.”

Bilbo was now beginning to feel reallyuncomfortable. Whenever Smaug’s rovingeye, seeking for him in the shadows,

flashed across him, he trembled, and anunaccountable desire seized hold of him torush out and reveal himself and tell all thetruth to Smaug. In fact he was in grievousdanger of coming under the dragon-spell.But plucking up courage he spoke again.

“You don’t know everything, O Smaugthe Mighty,” said he. “Not gold alonebrought us hither.”

“Ha! Ha! You admit the ‘us’” laughedSmaug. “Why not say ‘us fourteen’ and bedone with it, Mr. Lucky Number? I ampleased to hear that you had other businessin these parts besides my gold. In that caseyou may, perhaps, not altogether wasteyour time.

“I don’t know if it has occurred to youthat, even if you could steal the gold bit bybit—a matter of a hundred years or so—

you could not get it very far? Not muchuse on the mountain-side? Not much use inthe forest? Bless me! Had you neverthought of the catch? A fourteenth share, Isuppose, or something like it, those werethe terms, eh? But what about delivery?What about cartage? What about armedguards and tolls?” And Smaug laughedaloud. He had a wicked and a wily heart,and he knew his guesses were not far out,though he suspected that the Lake-menwere at the back of the plans, and thatmost of the plunder was meant to stopthere in the town by the shore that in hisyoung days had been called Esgaroth.

You will hardly believe it, but poorBilbo was really very taken aback. So farall his thoughts and energies had beenconcentrated on getting to the Mountain

and finding the entrance. He had neverbothered to wonder how the treasure wasto be removed, certainly never how anypart of it that might fall to his share was tobe brought back all the way to Bag-EndUnder-Hill.

Now a nasty suspicion began to grow inhis mind—had the dwarves forgotten thisimportant point too, or were they laughingin their sleeves at him all the time? That isthe effect that dragon-talk has on theinexperienced. Bilbo of course ought tohave been on his guard; but Smaug hadrather an overwhelming personality.

“I tell you,” he said, in an effort toremain loyal to his friends and to keep hisend up, “that gold was only an afterthoughtwith us. We came over hill and under hill,by wave and wind, for Revenge. Surely, O

Smaug the unassessably wealthy, you mustrealize that your success has made yousome bitter enemies?”

Then Smaug really did laugh—adevastating sound which shook Bilbo tothe floor, while far up in the tunnel thedwarves huddled together and imaginedthat the hobbit had come to a sudden and anasty end.

“Revenge!” he snorted, and the light ofhis eyes lit the hall from floor to ceilinglike scarlet lightning. “Revenge! The Kingunder the Mountain is dead and where arehis kin that dare seek revenge? GirionLord of Dale is dead, and I have eaten hispeople like a wolf among sheep, andwhere are his sons’ sons that dareapproach me? I kill where I wish and nonedare resist. I laid low the warriors of old

and their like is not in the world today.Then I was but young and tender. Now Iam old and strong, strong, strong, Thief inthe Shadows!” he gloated. “My armour islike tenfold shields, my teeth are swords,my claws spears, the shock of my tail athunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and mybreath death!”

“I have always understood,” said Bilboin a frightened squeak, “that dragons weresofter underneath, especially in the regionof the—er—chest; but doubtless one sofortified has thought of that.”

The dragon stopped short in hisboasting. “Your information isantiquated,” he snapped. “I am armouredabove and below with iron scales andhard gems. No blade can pierce me.”

“I might have guessed it,” said Bilbo.

“Truly there can nowhere be found theequal of Lord Smaug the Impenetrable.What magnificence to possess a waistcoatof fine diamonds!”

“Yes, it is rare and wonderful, indeed,”said Smaug absurdly pleased. He did notknow that the hobbit had already caught aglimpse of his peculiar under-covering onhis previous visit, and was itching for acloser view for reasons of his own. Thedragon rolled over. “Look!” he said.“What do you say to that?”

“Dazzlingly marvellous! Perfect!Flawless! Staggering!” exclaimed Bilboaloud, but what he thought inside was:“Old fool! Why, there is a large patch inthe hollow of his left breast as bare as asnail out of its shell!”

After he had seen that Mr. Baggins’ one

idea was to get away. “Well, I really mustnot detain Your Magnificence any longer,”he said, “or keep you from much neededrest. Ponies take some catching, I believe,after a long start. And so do burglars,” headded as a parting shot, as he darted backand fled up the tunnel.

It was an unfortunate remark, for thedragon spouted terrific flames after him,and fast though he sped up the slope, hehad not gone nearly far enough to becomfortable before the ghastly head ofSmaug was thrust against the openingbehind. Luckily the whole head and jawscould not squeeze in, but the nostrils sentforth fire and vapour to pursue him, and hewas nearly overcome, and stumbledblindly on in great pain and fear. He hadbeen feeling rather pleased with the

cleverness of his conversation withSmaug, but his mistake at the end shookhim into better sense.

“Never laugh at live dragons, Bilbo youfool!” he said to himself, and it became afavourite saying of his later, and passedinto a proverb. “You aren’t nearly throughthis adventure yet,” he added, and that waspretty true as well.

The afternoon was turning into eveningwhen he came out again and stumbled andfell in a faint on the ‘doorstep’. Thedwarves revived him, and doctored hisscorches as well as they could; but it wasa long time before the hair on the back ofhis head and his heels grew properly

again: it had all been singed and frizzledright down to the skin. In the meanwhilehis friends did their best to cheer him up;and they were eager for his story,especially wanting to know why thedragon had made such an awful noise, andhow Bilbo had escaped.

But the hobbit was worried anduncomfortable, and they had difficulty ingetting anything out of him. On thinkingthings over he was now regretting some ofthe things he had said to the dragon, andwas not eager to repeat them. The oldthrush was sitting on a rock near by withhis head cocked on one side, listening toall that was said. It shows what an illtemper Bilbo was in: he picked up a stoneand threw it at the thrush, which merelyfluttered aside and came back.

“Drat the bird!” said Bilbo crossly. “Ibelieve he is listening, and I don’t like thelook of him.”

“Leave him alone!” said Thorin. “Thethrushes are good and friendly—this is avery old bird indeed, and is maybe the lastleft of the ancient breed that used to liveabout here, tame to the hands of my fatherand grandfather. They were a long-livedand magical race, and this might even beone of those that were alive then, a coupleof hundreds of years or more ago. TheMen of Dale used to have the trick ofunderstanding their language, and usedthem for messengers to fly to the Men ofthe Lake and elsewhere.”

“Well, he’ll have news to take to Lake-town all right, if that is what he is after,”said Bilbo; “though I don’t suppose there

are any people left there that trouble withthrush-language.”

“Why what has happened?” cried thedwarves. “Do get on with your tale!”

So Bilbo told them all he couldremember, and he confessed that he had anasty feeling that the dragon guessed toomuch from his riddles added to the campsand the ponies. “I am sure he knows wecame from Lake-town and had help fromthere; and I have a horrible feeling that hisnext move may be in that direction. I wishto goodness I had never said that aboutBarrel-rider; it would make even a blindrabbit in these parts think of the Lake-men.”

“Well, well! It cannot be helped, and itis difficult not to slip in talking to adragon, or so I have always heard,” said

Balin anxious to comfort him. “I think youdid very well, if you ask me—you foundout one very useful thing at any rate, andgot home alive, and that is more than mostcan say who have had words with thelikes of Smaug. It may be a mercy and ablessing yet to know of the bare patch inthe old Worm’s diamond waistcoat.”

That turned the conversation, and theyall began discussing dragon-slayingshistorical, dubious, and mythical, and thevarious sorts of stabs and jabs andundercuts, and the different arts devicesand stratagems by which they had beenaccomplished. The general opinion wasthat catching a dragon napping was not aseasy as it sounded, and the attempt to stickone or prod one asleep was more likely toend in disaster than a bold frontal attack.

All the while they talked the thrushlistened, till at last when the stars began topeep forth, it silently spread its wings andflew away. And all the while they talkedand the shadows lengthened Bilbo becamemore and more unhappy and hisforeboding grew.

At last he interrupted them. “I am surewe are very unsafe here,” he said, “and Idon’t see the point of sitting here. Thedragon has withered all the pleasantgreen, and anyway the night has come andit is cold. But I feel it in my bones that thisplace will be attacked again. Smaugknows now how I came down to his hall,and you can trust him to guess where theother end of the tunnel is. He will breakall this side of the Mountain to bits, ifnecessary, to stop up our entrance, and if

we are smashed with it the better he willlike it.”

“You are very gloomy, Mr. Baggins!”said Thorin. “Why has not Smaug blockedthe lower end, then, if he is so eager tokeep us out? He has not, or we shouldhave heard him.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know—becauseat first he wanted to try and lure me inagain, I suppose, and now perhapsbecause he is waiting till after tonight’shunt, or because he does not want todamage his bedroom if he can help it—butI wish you would not argue. Smaug willbe coming out at any minute now, and ouronly hope is to get well in the tunnel andshut the door.”

He seemed so much in earnest that thedwarves at last did as he said, though they

delayed shutting the door—it seemed adesperate plan, for no one knew whetheror how they could get it open again fromthe inside, and the thought of being shut ina place from which the only way out ledthrough the dragon’s lair was not one theyliked. Also everything seemed quite quiet,both outside and down the tunnel. So for alongish while they sat inside not far downfrom the half-open door and went ontalking.

The talk turned to the dragon’s wickedwords about the dwarves. Bilbo wishedhe had never heard them, or at least that hecould feel quite certain that the dwarvesnow were absolutely honest when theydeclared that they had never thought at allabout what would happen after thetreasure had been won. “We knew it

would be a desperate venture,” saidThorin, “and we know that still; and I stillthink that when we have won it will betime enough to think what to do about it.As for your share, Mr. Baggins, I assureyou we are more than grateful and youshall choose your own fourteenth, as soonas we have anything to divide. I am sorryif you are worried about transport, and Iadmit the difficulties are great—the landshave not become less wild with thepassing of time, rather the reverse—butwe will do whatever we can for you, andtake our share of the cost when the timecomes. Believe me or not as you like!”

From that the talk turned to the greathoard itself and to the things that Thorinand Balin remembered. They wondered ifthey were still lying there unharmed in the

hall below: the spears that were made forthe armies of the great King Bladorthin(long since dead), each had a thrice-forged head and their shafts were inlaidwith cunning gold, but they were neverdelivered or paid for; shields made forwarriors long dead; the great golden cupof Thror, two-handed, hammered andcarven with birds and flowers whose eyesand petals were of jewels; coats of mailgilded and silvered and impenetrable; thenecklace of Girion, Lord of Dale, made offive hundred emeralds green as grass,which he gave for the arming of his eldestson in a coat of dwarf-linked rings the likeof which had never been made before, forit was wrought of pure silver to the powerand strength of triple steel. But fairest ofall was the great white gem, which the

dwarves had found beneath the roots ofthe Mountain, the Heart of the Mountain,the Arkenstone of Thrain.

“The Arkenstone! The Arkenstone!”murmured Thorin in the dark, halfdreaming with his chin upon his knees. “Itwas like a globe with a thousand facets; itshone like silver in the firelight, likewater in the sun, like snow under the stars,like rain upon the Moon!”

But the enchanted desire of the hoardhad fallen from Bilbo. All through theirtalk he was only half listening to them. Hesat nearest to the door with one earcocked for any beginnings of a soundwithout, his other was alert for echoesbeyond the murmurs of the dwarves, forany whisper of a movement from farbelow.

Darkness grew deeper and he grewever more uneasy. “Shut the door!” hebegged them, “I fear that dragon in mymarrow. I like this silence far less than theuproar of last night. Shut the door before itis too late!”

Something in his voice gave thedwarves an uncomfortable feeling. SlowlyThorin shook off his dreams and getting uphe kicked away the stone that wedged thedoor. Then they thrust upon it, and itclosed with a snap and a clang. No traceof a keyhole was there left on the inside.They were shut in the Mountain!

And not a moment too soon. They hadhardly gone any distance down the tunnelwhen a blow smote the side of theMountain like the crash of battering-ramsmade of forest oaks and swung by giants.

The rock boomed, the walls cracked andstones fell from the roof on their heads.What would have happened if the doorhad still been open I don’t like to think.They fled further down the tunnel glad tobe still alive, while behind them outsidethey heard the roar and rumble of Smaug’sfury. He was breaking rocks to pieces,smashing wall and cliff with the lashingsof his huge tail, till their little loftycamping ground, the scorched grass, thethrush’s stone, the snail-covered walls,the narrow ledge, and all disappeared in ajumble of smithereens, and an avalancheof splintered stones fell over the cliff intothe valley below.

Smaug had left his lair in silent stealth,quietly soared into the air, and thenfloated heavy and slow in the dark like a

monstrous crow, down the wind towardsthe west of the Mountain, in the hopes ofcatching unawares something or somebodythere, and of spying the outlet to thepassage which the thief had used. Thiswas the outburst of his wrath when hecould find nobody and see nothing, evenwhere he guessed the outlet must actuallybe.

After he had let off his rage in this wayhe felt better and he thought in his heartthat he would not be troubled again fromthat direction. In the meanwhile he hadfurther vengeance to take. “Barrel-rider!”he snorted. “Your feet came from thewaterside and up the water you camewithout a doubt. I don’t know your smell,but if you are not one of those men of theLake, you had their help. They shall see

me and remember who is the real Kingunder the Mountain!”

He rose in fire and went away southtowards the Running River.

Chapter XIII

NOT AT HOME

In the meanwhile, the dwarves sat indarkness, and utter silence fell about them.Little they ate and little they spoke. Theycould not count the passing of time; andthey scarcely dared to move, for thewhisper of their voices echoed and rustledin the tunnel. If they dozed, they woke stillto darkness and to silence going onunbroken. At last after days and days ofwaiting, as it seemed, when they werebecoming choked and dazed for want ofair, they could bear it no longer. They

would almost have welcomed soundsfrom below of the dragon’s return. In thesilence they feared some cunning devilryof his, but they could not sit there for ever.

Thorin spoke: “Let us try the door!” hesaid. “I must feel the wind on my facesoon or die. I think I would rather besmashed by Smaug in the open thansuffocate in here!” So several of thedwarves got up and groped back to wherethe door had been. But they found that theupper end of the tunnel had been shatteredand blocked with broken rock. Neither keynor the magic it had once obeyed wouldever open that door again.

“We are trapped!” they groaned. “Thisis the end. We shall die here.”

But somehow, just when the dwarveswere most despairing, Bilbo felt a strange

lightening of the heart, as if a heavyweight had gone from under his waistcoat.

“Come, come!” he said. “‘While there’slife there’s hope!’ as my father used tosay, and ‘Third time pays for all.’ I amgoing down the tunnel once again. I havebeen that way twice, when I knew therewas a dragon at the other end, so I willrisk a third visit when I am no longer sure.Anyway the only way out is down. And Ithink this time you had better all comewith me.”

In desperation they agreed, and Thorinwas the first to go forward by Bilbo’sside.

“Now do be careful!” whispered thehobbit, “and as quiet as you can be! Theremay be no Smaug at the bottom, but thenagain there may be. Don’t let us take any

unnecessary risks!”Down, down they went. The dwarves

could not, of course, compare with thehobbit in real stealth, and they made adeal of puffing and shuffling which echoesmagnified alarmingly; but though everynow and again Bilbo in fear stopped andlistened, not a sound stirred below. Nearthe bottom, as well as he could judge,Bilbo slipped on his ring and went ahead.But he did not need it: the darkness wascomplete, and they were all invisible, ringor no ring. In fact so black was it that thehobbit came to the opening unexpectedly,put his hand on air, stumbled forward, androlled headlong into the hall!

There he lay face downwards on thefloor and did not dare to get up, or hardlyeven to breathe. But nothing moved. There

was not a gleam of light—unless, as itseemed to him, when at last he slowlyraised his head, there was a pale whiteglint, above him and far off in the gloom.But certainly it was not a spark of dragon-fire, though the worm-stench was heavy inthe place, and the taste of vapour was onhis tongue.

At length Mr. Baggins could bear it nolonger. “Confound you, Smaug, youworm!” he squeaked aloud. “Stop playinghide-and-seek! Give me a light, and theneat me, if you can catch me!”

Faint echoes ran round the unseen hall,but there was no answer.

Bilbo got up, and found that he did notknow in what direction to turn.

“Now I wonder what on earth Smaug isplaying at,” he said. “He is not at home

today (or tonight, or whatever it is), I dobelieve. If Oin and Gloin have not losttheir tinder-boxes, perhaps we can make alittle light, and have a look round beforethe luck turns.”

“Light!” he cried. “Can anybody make alight?”

The dwarves, of course, were veryalarmed when Bilbo fell forward downthe step with a bump into the hall, and theysat huddled just where he had left them atthe end of the tunnel.

“Sh! sh!” they hissed, when they heardhis voice; and though that helped thehobbit to find out where they were, it wassome time before he could get anything

else out of them. But in the end, whenBilbo actually began to stamp on the floor,and screamed out “light!” at the top of hisshrill voice, Thorin gave way, and Oinand Gloin were sent back to their bundlesat the top of the tunnel.

After a while a twinkling gleam showedthem returning, Oin with a small pine-torch alight in his hand, and Gloin with abundle of others under his arm. QuicklyBilbo trotted to the door and took thetorch; but he could not persuade thedwarves to light the others or to come andjoin him yet. As Thorin carefullyexplained, Mr. Baggins was still officiallytheir expert burglar and investigator. If heliked to risk a light, that was his affair.They would wait in the tunnel for hisreport. So they sat near the door and

watched.They saw the little dark shape of the

hobbit start across the floor holding histiny light aloft. Every now and again,while he was still near enough, theycaught a glint and a tinkle as he stumbledon some golden thing. The light grewsmaller as he wandered away into the vasthall; then it began to rise dancing into theair. Bilbo was climbing the great moundof treasure. Soon he stood upon the top,and still went on. Then they saw him haltand stoop for a moment; but they did notknow the reason.

It was the Arkenstone, the Heart of theMountain. So Bilbo guessed fromThorin’s description; but indeed therecould not be two such gems, even in somarvellous a hoard, even in all the world.

Ever as he climbed, the same white gleamhad shone before him and drawn his feettowards it. Slowly it grew to a little globeof pallid light. Now as he came near, itwas tinged with a flickering sparkle ofmany colours at the surface, reflected andsplintered from the wavering light of historch. At last he looked down upon it, andhe caught his breath. The great jewelshone before his feet of its own innerlight, and yet, cut and fashioned by thedwarves, who had dug it from the heart ofthe mountain long ago, it took all light thatfell upon it and changed it into tenthousand sparks of white radiance shotwith glints of the rainbow.

Suddenly Bilbo’s arm went towards itdrawn by its enchantment. His small handwould not close about it, for it was a large

and heavy gem; but he lifted it, shut hiseyes, and put it in his deepest pocket.

“Now I am a burglar indeed!” thoughthe. “But I suppose I must tell the dwarvesabout it—some time. They did say I couldpick and choose my own share; and I thinkI would choose this, if they took all therest!” All the same he had anuncomfortable feeling that the picking andchoosing had not really been meant toinclude this marvellous gem, and thattrouble would yet come of it.

Now he went on again. Down the otherside of the great mound he climbed, andthe spark of his torch vanished from thesight of the watching dwarves. But soonthey saw it far away in the distance again.Bilbo was crossing the floor of the hall.

He went on, until he came to the great

doors at the further side, and there adraught of air refreshed him, but it almostpuffed out his light. He peeped timidlythrough, and caught a glimpse of greatpassages and of the dim beginnings ofwide stairs going up into the gloom. Andstill there was no sight nor sound ofSmaug. He was just going to turn and goback, when a black shape swooped at him,and brushed his face. He squeaked andstarted, stumbled backwards and fell. Historch dropped head downwards and wentout!

“Only a bat, I suppose and hope!” hesaid miserably. “But now what am I todo? Which is East, South, North, orWest?”

“Thorin! Balin! Oin! Gloin! Fili! Kili!”he cried as loud as he could—it seemed a

thin little noise in the wide blackness.“The light’s gone out! Someone come andfind me and help me!” For the moment hiscourage had failed altogether.

Faintly the dwarves heard his smallcries, though the only word they couldcatch was “help!”

“Now what on earth or under it hashappened?” said Thorin. “Certainly notthe dragon, or he would not go onsqueaking.”

They waited a moment or two, and stillthere were no dragon-noises, no sound atall in fact but Bilbo’s distant voice.“Come, one of you, get another light ortwo!” Thorin ordered. “It seems we havegot to go and help our burglar.”

“It is about our turn to help,” saidBalin, “and I am quite willing to go.

Anyway I expect it is safe for themoment.”

Gloin lit several more torches, and thenthey all crept out, one by one, and wentalong the wall as hurriedly as they could.It was not long before they met Bilbohimself coming back towards them. Hiswits had quickly returned as soon as hesaw the twinkle of their lights.

“Only a bat and a dropped torch,nothing worse!” he said in answer to theirquestions. Though they were muchrelieved, they were inclined to be grumpyat being frightened for nothing; but whatthey would have said, if he had told themat that moment about the Arkenstone, Idon’t know. The mere fleeting glimpses oftreasure which they had caught as theywent along had rekindled all the fire of

their dwarvish hearts; and when the heartof a dwarf, even the most respectable, iswakened by gold and by jewels, he growssuddenly bold, and he may become fierce.

The dwarves indeed no longer neededany urging. All were now eager to explorethe hall while they had the chance, andwilling to believe that, for the present,Smaug was away from home. Each nowgripped a lighted torch; and as they gazed,first on one side and then on another, theyforgot fear and even caution. They spokealoud, and cried out to one another, asthey lifted old treasures from the mound orfrom the wall and held them in the light,caressing and fingering them.

Fili and Kili were almost in merrymood, and finding still hanging there manygolden harps strung with silver they took

them and struck them; and being magical(and also untouched by the dragon, whohad small interest in music) they were stillin tune. The dark hall was filled with amelody that had long been silent. But mostof the dwarves were more practical: theygathered gems and stuffed their pockets,and let what they could not carry fall backthrough their fingers with a sigh. Thorinwas not least among these; but always hesearched from side to side for somethingwhich he could not find. It was theArkenstone; but he spoke of it yet to noone.

Now the dwarves took down mail andweapons from the walls, and armedthemselves. Royal indeed did Thorin look,clad in a coat of gold-plated rings, with asilver-hafted axe in a belt crusted with

scarlet stones.“Mr. Baggins!” he cried. “Here is the

first payment of your reward! Cast offyour old coat and put on this!”

With that he put on Bilbo a small coatof mail, wrought for some young elf-prince long ago. It was of silver-steel,which the elves call mithril, and with itwent a belt of pearls and crystals. A lighthelm of figured leather, strengthenedbeneath with hoops of steel, and studdedabout the brim with white gems, was setupon the hobbit’s head.

“I feel magnificent,” he thought; “but Iexpect I look rather absurd. How theywould laugh on the Hill at home! Still Iwish there was a looking-glass handy!”

All the same Mr. Baggins kept his headmore clear of the bewitchment of the

hoard than the dwarves did. Long beforethe dwarves were tired of examining thetreasures, he became weary of it and satdown on the floor; and he began towonder nervously what the end of it allwould be. “I would give a good many ofthese precious goblets,” he thought, “for adrink of something cheering out of one ofBeorn’s wooden bowls!”

“Thorin!” he cried aloud. “What next?We are armed, but what good has anyarmour ever been before against Smaugthe Dreadful? This treasure is not yet wonback. We are not looking for gold yet, butfor a way of escape; and we have temptedluck too long!”

“You speak the truth!” answeredThorin, recovering his wits. “Let us go! Iwill guide you. Not in a thousand years

should I forget the ways of this palace.”Then he hailed the others, and theygathered together, and holding theirtorches above their heads they passedthrough the gaping doors, not withoutmany a backward glance of longing.

Their glittering mail they had coveredagain with their old cloaks and their brighthelms with their tattered hoods, and oneby one they walked behind Thorin, a lineof little lights in the darkness that haltedoften, listening in fear once more for anyrumour of the dragon’s coming.

Though all the old adornments werelong mouldered or destroyed, and thoughall was befouled and blasted with thecomings and goings of the monster, Thorinknew every passage and every turn. Theyclimbed long stairs, and turned and went

down wide echoing ways, and turnedagain and climbed yet more stairs, and yetmore stairs again. These were smooth, cutout of the living rock broad and fair; andup, up, the dwarves went, and they met nosign of any living thing, only furtiveshadows that fled from the approach oftheir torches fluttering in the draughts.

The steps were not made, all the same,for hobbit-legs, and Bilbo was just feelingthat he could go on no longer, whensuddenly the roof sprang high and farbeyond the reach of their torch-light. Awhite glimmer could be seen comingthrough some opening far above, and theair smelt sweeter. Before them light camedimly through great doors, that hungtwisted on their hinges and half burnt.

“This is the great chamber of Thror,”

said Thorin; “the hall of feasting and ofcouncil. Not far off now is the FrontGate.”

They passed through the ruinedchamber. Tables were rotting there; chairsand benches were lying there overturned,charred and decaying. Skulls and boneswere upon the floor among flagons andbowls and broken drinking-horns and dust.As they came through yet more doors atthe further end, a sound of water fell upontheir ears, and the grey light grewsuddenly more full.

“There is the birth of the RunningRiver,” said Thorin. “From here it hastensto the Gate. Let us follow it!”

Out of a dark opening in a wall of rockthere issued a boiling water, and it flowedswirling in a narrow channel, carved and

made straight and deep by the cunning ofancient hands. Beside it ran a stone-pavedroad, wide enough for many men abreast.Swiftly along this they ran, and round awide-sweeping turn—and behold! beforethem stood the broad light of day. In frontthere rose a tall arch, still showing thefragments of old carven work within,worn and splintered and blackened thoughit was. A misty sun sent its pale lightbetween the arms of the Mountain, andbeams of gold fell on the pavement at thethreshold.

A whirl of bats frightened from slumberby their smoking torches flurried overthem; as they sprang forward their feetslithered on stones rubbed smooth andslimed by the passing of the dragon. Nowbefore them the water fell noisily outward

and foamed down towards the valley.They flung their pale torches to theground, and stood gazing out with dazzledeyes. They were come to the Front Gate,and were looking out upon Dale.

“Well!” said Bilbo, “I never expectedto be looking out of this door. And I neverexpected to be so pleased to see the sunagain, and to feel the wind on my face.But, ow! this wind is cold!”

It was. A bitter easterly breeze blewwith a threat of oncoming winter. Itswirled over and round the arms of theMountain into the valley, and sighedamong the rocks. After their long time inthe stewing depths of the dragon-hauntedcaverns, they shivered in the sun.

Suddenly Bilbo realized that he was notonly tired but also very hungry indeed. “It

seems to be late morning,” he said, “andso I suppose it is more or less breakfast-time—if there is any breakfast to have.But I don’t feel that Smaug’s frontdoorstep is the safest place for a meal. Dolet’s go somewhere where we can sitquiet for a bit!”

“Quite right!” said Balin. “And I think Iknow which way we should go: we oughtto make for the old look-out post at theSouth-West corner of the Mountain.”

“How far is that?” asked the hobbit.“Five hours march, I should think. It

will be rough going. The road from theGate along the left edge of the streamseems all broken up. But look down there!The river loops suddenly east across Dalein front of the ruined town. At that pointthere was once a bridge, leading to steep

stairs that climbed up the right bank, andso to a road running towards Ravenhill.There is (or was) a path that left the roadand climbed up to the post. A hard climb,too, even if the old steps are still there.”

“Dear me!” grumbled the hobbit. “Morewalking and more climbing withoutbreakfast! I wonder how many breakfasts,and other meals, we have missed insidethat nasty clockless, timeless hole?”

As a matter of fact two nights and theday between had gone by (and notaltogether without food) since the dragonsmashed the magic door, but Bilbo hadquite lost count, and it might have beenone night or a week of nights for all hecould tell.

“Come, come!” said Thorin laughing—his spirits had begun to rise again, and he

rattled the precious stones in his pockets.“Don’t call my palace a nasty hole! Youwait till it has been cleaned andredecorated!”

“That won’t be till Smaug’s dead,” saidBilbo glumly. “In the meanwhile where ishe? I would give a good breakfast toknow. I hope he is not up on the Mountainlooking down at us!”

That idea disturbed the dwarvesmightily, and they quickly decided thatBilbo and Balin were right.

“We must move away from here,” saidDori. “I feel as if his eyes were on theback of my head.”

“It’s a cold lonesome place,” saidBombur. “There may be drink, but I see nosign of food. A dragon would always behungry in such parts.”

“Come on! Come on!” cried the others.“Let us follow Balin’s path!”

Under the rocky wall to the right there wasno path, so on they trudged among thestones on the left side of the river, and theemptiness and desolation soon soberedeven Thorin again. The bridge that Balinhad spoken of they found long fallen, andmost of its stones were now only bouldersin the shallow noisy stream; but theyforded the water without much difficulty,and found the ancient steps, and climbedthe high bank. After going a short way theystruck the old road, and before long cameto a deep dell sheltered among the rocks;there they rested for a while and had such

a breakfast as they could, chiefly cramand water. (If you want to know whatcram is, I can only say that I don’t knowthe recipe; but it is biscuitish, keeps goodindefinitely, is supposed to be sustaining,and is certainly not entertaining, being infact very uninteresting except as achewing exercise. It was made by theLake-men for long journeys.)

After that they went on again; and nowthe road struck westwards and left theriver, and the great shoulder of the south-pointing mountain-spur drew ever nearer.At length they reached the hill path. Itscrambled steeply up, and they ploddedslowly one behind the other, till at last inthe late afternoon they came to the top ofthe ridge and saw the wintry sun goingdownwards to the West.

Here they found a flat place without awall on three sides, but backed to theNorth by a rocky face in which there wasan opening like a door. From that doorthere was a wide view East and South andWest.

“Here,” said Balin, “in the old days weused always to keep watchmen, and thatdoor behind leads into a rockhewnchamber that was made here as aguardroom. There were several placeslike it round the Mountain. But thereseemed small need for watching in thedays of our prosperity, and the guardswere made over comfortable, perhaps—otherwise we might have had longerwarning of the coming of the dragon, andthings might have been different. Still,here we can now lie hid and sheltered for

a while, and can see much without beingseen.”

“Not much use, if we have been seencoming here,” said Dori, who was alwayslooking up towards the Mountain’s peak,as if he expected to see Smaug perchedthere like a bird on a steeple.

“We must take our chance of that,” saidThorin. “We can go no further to-day.”

“Hear, hear!” cried Bilbo, and flunghimself on the ground.

In the rock-chamber there would havebeen room for a hundred, and there was asmall chamber further in, more removedfrom the cold outside. It was quitedeserted; not even wild animals seemed tohave used it in all the days of Smaug’sdominion. There they laid their burdens;and some threw themselves down at once

and slept, but the others sat near the outerdoor and discussed their plans. In all theirtalk they came perpetually back to onething: where was Smaug? They lookedWest and there was nothing, and Eastthere was nothing, and in the South therewas no sign of the dragon, but there was agathering of very many birds. At that theygazed and wondered; but they were nonearer understanding it, when the firstcold stars came out.

Chapter XIV

FIRE AND WATER

Now if you wish, like the dwarves, tohear news of Smaug, you must go backagain to the evening when he smashed thedoor and flew off in rage, two daysbefore.

The men of the lake-town Esgarothwere mostly indoors, for the breeze wasfrom the black East and chill, but a fewwere walking on the quays, and watching,as they were fond of doing, the stars shineout from the smooth patches of the lake asthey opened in the sky. From their town

the Lonely Mountain was mostly screenedby the low hills at the far end of the lake,through a gap in which the Running Rivercame down from the North. Only its highpeak could they see in clear weather, andthey looked seldom at it, for it wasominous and drear even in the light ofmorning. Now it was lost and gone,blotted in the dark.

Suddenly it flickered back to view; abrief glow touched it and faded.

“Look!” said one. “The lights again!Last night the watchmen saw them startand fade from midnight until dawn.Something is happening up there.”

“Perhaps the King under the Mountainis forging gold,” said another. “It is longsince he went North. It is time the songsbegan to prove themselves again.”

“Which king?” said another with a grimvoice. “As like as not it is the maraudingfire of the Dragon, the only king under theMountain we have ever known.”

“You are always foreboding gloomythings!” said the others. “Anything fromfloods to poisoned fish. Think ofsomething cheerful!”

Then suddenly a great light appeared inthe low place in the hills and the northernend of the lake turned golden. “The Kingbeneath the Mountain!” they shouted. “Hiswealth is like the Sun, his silver like afountain, his rivers golden run! The riveris running gold from the Mountain!” theycried, and everywhere windows wereopening and feet were hurrying.

There was once more a tremendousexcitement and enthusiasm. But the grim-

voiced fellow ran hotfoot to the Master.“The dragon is coming or I am a fool!” hecried. “Cut the bridges! To arms! Toarms!”

Then warning trumpets were suddenlysounded, and echoed along the rockyshores. The cheering stopped and the joywas turned to dread. So it was that thedragon did not find them quite unprepared.

Before long, so great was his speed,they could see him as a spark of firerushing towards them and growing everhuger and more bright, and not the mostfoolish doubted that the prophecies hadgone rather wrong. Still they had a littletime. Every vessel in the town was filledwith water, every warrior was armed,every arrow and dart was ready, and thebridge to the land was thrown down and

destroyed, before the roar of Smaug’sterrible approach grew loud, and the lakerippled red as fire beneath the awfulbeating of his wings. Amid shrieks andwailing and the shouts of men he cameover them, swept towards the bridges andwas foiled! The bridge was gone, and hisenemies were on an island in deep water—too deep and dark and cool for hisliking. If he plunged into it, a vapour and asteam would arise enough to cover all theland with a mist for days; but the lake wasmightier than he, it would quench himbefore he could pass through.

Roaring he swept back over the town.A hail of dark arrows leaped up andsnapped and rattled on his scales andjewels, and their shafts fell back kindledby his breath burning and hissing into the

lake. No fireworks you ever imaginedequalled the sights that night. At thetwanging of the bows and the shrilling ofthe trumpets the dragon’s wrath blazed toits height, till he was blind and mad withit. No one had dared to give battle to himfor many an age; nor would they havedared now, if it had not been for the grim-voiced man (Bard was his name), who ranto and fro cheering on the archers andurging the Master to order them to fight tothe last arrow.

Fire leaped from the dragon’s jaws. Hecircled for a while high in the air abovethem lighting all the lake; the trees by theshores shone like copper and like bloodwith leaping shadows of dense black attheir feet. Then down he swooped straightthrough the arrow-storm, reckless in his

rage, taking no heed to turn his scaly sidestowards his foes, seeking only to set theirtown ablaze.

Fire leaped from thatched roofs andwooden beam-ends as he hurtled downand past and round again, though all hadbeen drenched with water before he came.Once more water was flung by a hundredhands wherever a spark appeared. Backswirled the dragon. A sweep of his tailand the roof of the Great House crumbledand smashed down. Flames unquenchablesprang high into the night. Another swoopand another, and another house and thenanother sprang afire and fell; and still noarrow hindered Smaug or hurt him morethan a fly from the marshes.

Already men were jumping into the wateron every side. Women and children werebeing huddled into laden boats in themarket-pool. Weapons were flung down.There was mourning and weeping, wherebut a little time ago the old songs of mirthto come had been sung about the dwarves.Now men cursed their names. The Masterhimself was turning to his great gildedboat, hoping to row away in the confusionand save himself. Soon all the town wouldbe deserted and burned down to thesurface of the lake.

That was the dragon’s hope. They couldall get into boats for all he cared. There hecould have fine sport hunting them, or theycould stop till they starved. Let them try toget to land and he would be ready. Soonhe would set all the shoreland woods

ablaze and wither every field and pasture.Just now he was enjoying the sport oftown-baiting more than he had enjoyedanything for years.

But there was still a company ofarchers that held their ground among theburning houses. Their captain was Bard,grim-voiced and grim-faced, whosefriends had accused him of prophesyingfloods and poisoned fish, though theyknew his worth and courage. He was adescendant in long line of Girion, Lord ofDale, whose wife and child had escapeddown the Running River from the ruin longago. Now he shot with a great yew bow,till all his arrows but one were spent. Theflames were near him. His companionswere leaving him. He bent his bow for thelast time.

Suddenly out of the dark somethingfluttered to his shoulder. He started—butit was only an old thrush. Unafraid itperched by his ear and it brought himnews. Marvelling he found he couldunderstand its tongue, for he was of therace of Dale.

“Wait! Wait!” it said to him. “The moonis rising. Look for the hollow of the leftbreast as he flies and turns above you!”And while Bard paused in wonder it toldhim of tidings up in the Mountain and ofall that it had heard.

Then Bard drew his bow-string to hisear. The dragon was circling back, flyinglow, and as he came the moon rose abovethe eastern shore and silvered his greatwings.

“Arrow!” said the bowman. “Black

arrow! I have saved you to the last. Youhave never failed me and always I haverecovered you. I had you from my fatherand he from of old. If ever you came fromthe forges of the true king under theMountain, go now and speed well!”

The dragon swooped once more lowerthan ever, and as he turned and diveddown his belly glittered white withsparkling fires of gems in the moon—butnot in one place. The great bow twanged.The black arrow sped straight from thestring, straight for the hollow by the leftbreast where the foreleg was flung wide.In it smote and vanished, barb, shaft andfeather, so fierce was its flight. With ashriek that deafened men, felled trees andsplit stone, Smaug shot spouting into theair, turned over and crashed down from on

high in ruin.Full on the town he fell. His last throes

splintered it to sparks and gledes. Thelake roared in. A vast steam leaped up,white in the sudden dark under the moon.There was a hiss, a gushing whirl, andthen silence. And that was the end ofSmaug and Esgaroth, but not of Bard.

The waxing moon rose higher and higherand the wind grew loud and cold. Ittwisted the white fog into bending pillarsand hurrying clouds and drove it off to theWest to scatter in tattered shreds over themarshes before Mirkwood. Then the manyboats could be seen dotted dark on thesurface of the lake, and down the wind

came the voices of the people of Esgarothlamenting their lost town and goods andruined houses. But they had really much tobe thankful for, had they thought of it,though it could hardly be expected thatthey should just then: three quarters of thepeople of the town had at least escapedalive; their woods and fields and pasturesand cattle and most of their boatsremained undamaged; and the dragon wasdead. What that meant they had not yetrealized.

They gathered in mournful crowds uponthe western shores, shivering in the coldwind, and their first complaints and angerwere against the Master, who had left thetown so soon, while some were stillwilling to defend it.

“He may have a good head for business

—especially his own business,” somemurmured, “but he is no good whenanything serious happens!” And theypraised the courage of Bard and his lastmighty shot. “If only he had not beenkilled,” they all said, “we would makehim a king. Bard the Dragon-shooter of theline of Girion! Alas that he is lost!”

And in the very midst of their talk a tallfigure stepped from the shadows. He wasdrenched with water, his black hair hungwet over his face and shoulders, and afierce light was in his eyes.

“Bard is not lost!” he cried. “He divedfrom Esgaroth, when the enemy was slain.I am Bard, of the line of Girion; I am theslayer of the dragon!”

“King Bard! King Bard!” they shouted;but the Master ground his chattering teeth.

“Girion was lord of Dale, not king ofEsgaroth,” he said. “In the Lake-town wehave always elected masters from amongthe old and wise, and have not endured therule of mere fighting men. Let ‘King Bard’go back to his own kingdom—Dale is nowfreed by his valour, and nothing hindershis return. And any that wish can go withhim, if they prefer the cold stones underthe shadow of the Mountain to the greenshores of the lake. The wise will stay hereand hope to rebuild our town, and enjoyagain in time its peace and riches.”

“We will have King Bard!” the peoplenear at hand shouted in reply. “We havehad enough of the old men and the money-counters!” And people further off took upthe cry: “Up the Bowman, and down withMoneybags,” till the clamour echoed

along the shore.“I am the last man to undervalue Bard

the Bowman,” said the Master warily (forBard now stood close beside him). “Hehas tonight earned an eminent place in theroll of the benefactors of our town; and heis worthy of many imperishable songs.But, why O People?”—and here theMaster rose to his feet and spoke veryloud and clear—“Why do I get all yourblame? For what fault am I to be deposed?Who aroused the dragon from his slumber,I might ask? Who obtained of us rich giftsand ample help, and led us to believe thatold songs could come true? Who playedon our soft hearts and our pleasantfancies? What sort of gold have they sentdown the river to reward us? Dragon-fireand ruin! From whom should we claim the

recompense of our damage, and aid forour widows and orphans?”

As you see, the Master had not got hisposition for nothing. The result of hiswords was that for the moment the peoplequite forgot their idea of a new king, andturned their angry thoughts towards Thorinand his company. Wild and bitter wordswere shouted from many sides; and someof those who had before sung the oldsongs loudest, were now heard as loudlycrying that the dwarves had stirred thedragon up against them deliberately!

“Fools!” said Bard. “Why waste wordsand wrath on those unhappy creatures?Doubtless they perished first in fire,before Smaug came to us.” Then even ashe was speaking, the thought came into hisheart of the fabled treasure of the

Mountain lying without guard or owner,and he fell suddenly silent. He thought ofthe Master’s words, and of Dale rebuilt,and filled with golden bells, if he couldbut find the men.

At length he spoke again: “This is notime for angry words, Master, or forconsidering weighty plans of change.There is work to do. I serve you still—though after a while I may think again ofyour words and go North with any thatwill follow me.”

Then he strode off to help in theordering of the camps and in the care ofthe sick and the wounded. But the Masterscowled at his back as he went, andremained sitting on the ground. He thoughtmuch but said little, unless it was to callloudly for men to bring him fire and food.

Now everywhere Bard went he foundtalk running like fire among the peopleconcerning the vast treasure that was nowunguarded. Men spoke of the recompensefor all their harm that they would soon getfrom it, and wealth over and to spare withwhich to buy rich things from the South;and it cheered them greatly in their plight.That was as well, for the night was bitterand miserable. Shelters could becontrived for few (the Master had one)and there was little food (even the Masterwent short). Many took ill of wet and coldand sorrow that night, and afterwardsdied, who had escaped uninjured from theruin of the town; and in the days thatfollowed there was much sickness andgreat hunger.

Meanwhile Bard took the lead, and

ordered things as he wished, thoughalways in the Master’s name, and he had ahard task to govern the people and directthe preparations for their protection andhousing. Probably most of them wouldhave perished in the winter that nowhurried after autumn, if help had not beento hand. But help came swiftly; for Bard atonce had speedy messengers sent up theriver to the Forest to ask the aid of theKing of the Elves of the Wood, and thesemessengers had found a host already onthe move, although it was then only thethird day after the fall of Smaug.

The Elvenking had received news fromhis own messengers and from the birdsthat loved his folk, and already knewmuch of what had happened. Very greatindeed was the commotion among all

things with wings that dwelt on theborders of the Desolation of the Dragon.The air was filled with circling flocks,and their swift-flying messengers flewhere and there across the sky. Above theborders of the Forest there was whistling,crying and piping. Far over Mirkwoodtidings spread: “Smaug is dead!” Leavesrustled and startled ears were lifted. Evenbefore the Elvenking rode forth the newshad passed west right to the pinewoods ofthe Misty Mountains; Beorn had heard it inhis wooden house, and the goblins were atcouncil in their caves.

“That will be the last we shall hear ofThorin Oakenshield, I fear,” said the king.“He would have done better to haveremained my guest. It is an ill wind, all thesame,” he added, “that blows no one any

good.” For he too had not forgotten thelegend of the wealth of Thror. So it wasthat Bard’s messengers found him nowmarching with many spearmen andbowmen; and crows were gathered thickabove him, for they thought that war wasawakening again, such as had not been inthose parts for a long age.

But the king, when he received theprayers of Bard, had pity, for he was thelord of a good and kindly people; soturning his march, which had at first beendirect towards the Mountain, he hastenednow down the river to the Long Lake. Hehad not boats or rafts enough for his host,and they were forced to go the slower wayby foot; but great store of goods he sentahead by water. Still elves are light-footed, and though they were not in these

days much used to the marches and thetreacherous lands between the Forest andthe Lake, their going was swift. Only fivedays after the death of the dragon theycame upon the shores and looked on theruins of the town. Their welcome wasgood, as may be expected, and the menand their Master were ready to make anybargain for the future in return for theElvenking’s aid.

Their plans were soon made. With thewomen and the children, the old and theunfit, the Master remained behind; andwith him were some men of crafts andmany skilled elves; and they busiedthemselves felling trees, and collecting thetimber sent down from the Forest. Thenthey set about raising many huts by theshore against the oncoming winter; and

also under the Master’s direction theybegan the planning of a new town,designed more fair and large even thanbefore, but not in the same place. Theyremoved northward higher up the shore;for ever after they had a dread of thewater where the dragon lay. He wouldnever again return to his golden bed, butwas stretched cold as stone, twisted uponthe floor of the shallows. There for ageshis huge bones could be seen in calmweather amid the ruined piles of the oldtown. But few dared to cross the cursedspot, and none dared to dive into theshivering water or recover the preciousstones that fell from his rotting carcase.

But all the men of arms who were stillable, and the most of the Elvenking’sarray, got ready to march north to the

Mountain. It was thus that in eleven daysfrom the ruin of the town the head of theirhost passed the rock-gates at the end of thelake and came into the desolate lands.

Chapter XV

THE GATHERING OF THECLOUDS

Now we will return to Bilbo and thedwarves. All night one of them hadwatched, but when morning came they hadnot heard or seen any sign of danger. Butever more thickly the birds weregathering. Their companies came flyingfrom the South; and the crows that stilllived about the Mountain were wheelingand crying unceasingly above.

“Something strange is happening,” saidThorin. “The time has gone for the autumn

wanderings; and these are birds that dwellalways in the land; there are starlings andflocks of finches; and far off there aremany carrion birds as if a battle wereafoot!”

Suddenly Bilbo pointed: “There is thatold thrush again!” he cried. “He seems tohave escaped, when Smaug smashed themountain-side, but I don’t suppose thesnails have!”

Sure enough the old thrush was there,and as Bilbo pointed, he flew towardsthem and perched on a stone near by. Thenhe fluttered his wings and sang; then hecocked his head on one side, as if tolisten; and again he sang, and again helistened.

“I believe he is trying to tell ussomething,” said Balin; “but I cannot

follow the speech of such birds, it is veryquick and difficult. Can you make it outBaggins?”

“Not very well,” said Bilbo (as amatter of fact, he could make nothing of itat all); “but the old fellow seems veryexcited.”

“I only wish he was a raven!” saidBalin.

“I thought you did not like them! Youseemed very shy of them, when we camethis way before.”

“Those were crows! And nastysuspicious-looking creatures at that, andrude as well. You must have heard theugly names they were calling after us. Butthe ravens are different. There used to begreat friendship between them and thepeople of Thror; and they often brought us

secret news, and were rewarded withsuch bright things as they coveted to hidein their dwellings.

“They live many a year, and theirmemories are long, and they hand on theirwisdom to their children. I knew manyamong the ravens of the rocks when I wasa dwarf-lad. This very height was oncenamed Ravenhill, because there was awise and famous pair, old Carc and hiswife, that lived here above the guard-chamber. But I don’t suppose that any ofthat ancient breed linger here now.”

No sooner had he finished speakingthan the old thrush gave a loud call, andimmediately flew away.

“We may not understand him, but thatold bird understands us, I am sure,” saidBalin. “Keep watch now, and see what

happens!”Before long there was a fluttering of

wings, and back came the thrush; and withhim came a most decrepit old bird. Hewas getting blind, he could hardly fly, andthe top of his head was bald. He was anaged raven of great size. He alightedstiffly on the ground before them, slowlyflapped his wings, and bobbed towardsThorin.

“O Thorin son of Thrain, and Balin sonof Fundin,” he croaked (and Bilbo couldunderstand what he said, for he usedordinary language and not bird-speech). “Iam Roäc son of Carc. Carc is dead, but hewas well known to you once. It is ahundred years and three and fifty since Icame out of the egg, but I do not forgetwhat my father told me. Now I am the

chief of the great ravens of the Mountain.We are few, but we remember still theking that was of old. Most of my peopleare abroad, for there are great tidings inthe South—some are tidings of joy to you,and some you will not think so good.

“Behold! the birds are gathering backagain to the Mountain and to Dale fromSouth and East and West, for word hasgone out that Smaug is dead!”

“Dead! Dead?” shouted the dwarves.“Dead! Then we have been in needlessfear—and the treasure is ours!” They allsprang up and began to caper about forjoy.

“Yes, dead,” said Roäc. “The thrush,may his feathers never fall, saw him die,and we may trust his words. He saw himfall in battle with the men of Esgaroth the

third night back from now at the rising ofthe moon.”

It was some time before Thorin couldbring the dwarves to be silent and listen tothe raven’s news. At length when he hadtold all the tale of the battle he went on:

“So much for joy, Thorin Oakenshield.You may go back to your halls in safety;all the treasure is yours—for the moment.But many are gathering hither beside thebirds. The news of the death of theguardian has already gone far and wide,and the legend of the wealth of Thror hasnot lost in the telling during many years;many are eager for a share of the spoil.Already a host of the elves is on the way,and carrion birds are with them hoping forbattle and slaughter. By the lake menmurmur that their sorrows are due to the

dwarves; for they are homeless and manyhave died, and Smaug has destroyed theirtown. They too think to find amends fromyour treasure, whether you are alive ordead.

“Your own wisdom must decide yourcourse; but thirteen is small remnant of thegreat folk of Durin that once dwelt here,and now are scattered far. If you willlisten to my counsel, you will not trust theMaster of the Lake-men, but rather himthat shot the dragon with his bow. Bard ishe, of the race of Dale, of the line ofGirion; he is a grim man but true. Wewould see peace once more amongdwarves and men and elves after the longdesolation; but it may cost you dear ingold. I have spoken.”

Then Thorin burst forth in anger: “Our

thanks, Roäc Carc’s son. You and yourpeople shall not be forgotten. But none ofour gold shall thieves take or the violentcarry off while we are alive. If you wouldearn our thanks still more, bring us newsof any that draw near. Also I would beg ofyou, if any of you are still young andstrong of wing, that you would sendmessengers to our kin in the mountains ofthe North, both west from here and east,and tell them of our plight. But gospecially to my cousin Dain in the IronHills, for he has many people well-armed,and dwells nearest to this place. Bid himhasten!”

“I will not say if this counsel be goodor bad,” croaked Roäc, “but I will dowhat can be done.” Then off he slowlyflew.

“Back now to the Mountain!” criedThorin. “We have little time to lose.”

“And little food to use!” cried Bilbo,always practical on such points. In anycase he felt that the adventure was,properly speaking, over with the death ofthe dragon—in which he was muchmistaken—and he would have given mostof his share of the profits for the peacefulwinding up of these affairs.

“Back to the Mountain!” cried thedwarves as if they had not heard him; soback he had to go with them.

As you have heard some of the eventsalready, you will see that the dwarves stillhad some days before them. They

explored the caverns once more, andfound, as they expected, that only the FrontGate remained open; all the other gates(except, of course, the small secret door)had long ago been broken and blocked bySmaug, and no sign of them remained. Sonow they began to labour hard in fortifyingthe main entrance, and in making a newpath that led from it. Tools were to befound in plenty that the miners andquarriers and builders of old had used;and at such work the dwarves were stillvery skilled.

As they worked the ravens brought themconstant tidings. In this way they learnedthat the Elvenking had turned aside to theLake, and they still had a breathing space.Better still, they heard that three of theirponies had escaped and were wandering

wild far down the banks of the RunningRiver, not far from where the rest of theirstores had been left. So while the otherswent on with their work, Fili and Kiliwere sent, guided by a raven, to find theponies and bring back all they could.

They were four days gone, and by thattime they knew that the joined armies ofthe Lake-men and the Elves were hurryingtoward the Mountain. But now their hopeswere higher; for they had food for someweeks with care—chiefly cram, ofcourse, and they were very tired of it; butcram is much better than nothing—andalready the gate was blocked with a wallof squared stones laid dry, but very thickand high, across the opening. There wereholes in the wall through which they couldsee (or shoot), but no entrance. They

climbed in or out with ladders, and hauledstuff up with ropes. For the issuing of thestream they had contrived a small lowarch under the new wall; but near theentrance they had so altered the narrowbed that a wide pool stretched from themountain-wall to the head of the fall overwhich the stream went towards Dale.Approach to the Gate was now onlypossible, without swimming, along anarrow ledge of the cliff, to the right asone looked outwards from the wall. Theponies they had brought only to the head ofthe steps above the old bridge, andunloading them there had bidden themreturn to their masters and sent them backriderless to the South.

There came a night when suddenly therewere many lights as of fires and torchesaway south in Dale before them.

“They have come!” called Balin. “Andtheir camp is very great. They must havecome into the valley under the cover ofdusk along both banks of the river.”

That night the dwarves slept little. Themorning was still pale when they saw acompany approaching. From behind theirwall they watched them come up to thevalley’s head and climb slowly up. Beforelong they could see that both men of thelake armed as if for war and elvishbowmen were among them. At length theforemost of these climbed the tumbledrocks and appeared at the top of the falls;and very great was their surprise to seethe pool before them and the Gate blocked

with a wall of new-hewn stone.As they stood pointing and speaking to

one another Thorin hailed them: “Who areyou,” he called in a very loud voice, “thatcome as if in war to the gates of Thorinson of Thrain, King under the Mountain,and what do you desire?”

But they answered nothing. Some turnedswiftly back, and the others after gazingfor a while at the Gate and its defencessoon followed them. That day the campwas moved to the east of the river, rightbetween the arms of the Mountain. Therocks echoed then with voices and withsong, as they had not done for many a day.There was the sound, too, of elven-harpsand of sweet music; and as it echoed uptowards them it seemed that the chill ofthe air was warmed, and they caught

faintly the fragrance of woodland flowersblossoming in spring.

Then Bilbo longed to escape from thedark fortress and to go down and join inthe mirth and feasting by the fires. Some ofthe younger dwarves were moved in theirhearts, too, and they muttered that theywished things had fallen out otherwise andthat they might welcome such folk asfriends; but Thorin scowled.

Then the dwarves themselves broughtforth harps and instruments regained fromthe hoard, and made music to soften hismood; but their song was not as elvishsong, and was much like the song they hadsung long before in Bilbo’s little hobbit-hole.

Under the Mountain dark and tallThe King has come unto his hall!His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread,And ever so his foes shall fall.

The sword is sharp, the spear islong,The arrow swift, the Gate is strong;The heart is bold that looks on gold;The dwarves no more shall sufferwrong.

The dwarves of yore made mightyspells,While hammers fell like ringingbellsIn places deep, where dark things

sleep,In hollow halls beneath the fells.

On silver necklaces they strungThe light of stars, on crowns theyhungThe dragon-fire, from twisted wireThe melody of harps they wrung.

The mountain throne once more isfreed!O! wandering folk, the summonsheed! Come haste!Come haste! across the waste!The king of friend and kin has need.

Now call we over mountains cold,

‘Come back unto the caverns old’!Here at the Gates the king awaits,His hands are rich with gems andgold.

The king is come unto his hallUnder the Mountain dark and tall.The Worm of Dread is slain anddead,And ever so our foes shall fall!

This song appeared to please Thorin,and he smiled again and grew merry; andhe began reckoning the distance to the IronHills and how long it would be beforeDain could reach the Lonely Mountain, ifhe had set out as soon as the message

reached him. But Bilbo’s heart fell, bothat the song and the talk: they soundedmuch too warlike.

The next morning early a company ofspearmen was seen crossing the river, andmarching up the valley. They bore withthem the green banner of the Elvenkingand the blue banner of the Lake, and theyadvanced until they stood right before thewall at the Gate.

Again Thorin hailed them in a loudvoice: “Who are you that come armed forwar to the gates of Thorin son of Thrain,King under the Mountain?” This time hewas answered.

A tall man stood forward, dark of hairand grim of face, and he cried: “HailThorin! Why do you fence yourself like arobber in his hold? We are not yet foes,

and we rejoice that you are alive beyondour hope. We came expecting to find noneliving here; yet now that we are met thereis matter for a parley and a council.”

“Who are you, and of what would youparley?”

“I am Bard, and by my hand was thedragon slain and your treasure delivered.Is that not a matter that concerns you?Moreover I am by right descent the heir ofGirion of Dale, and in your hoard ismingled much of the wealth of his hallsand towns, which of old Smaug stole. Isnot that a matter of which we may speak?Further in his last battle Smaug destroyedthe dwellings of the men of Esgaroth, and Iam yet the servant of their Master. I wouldspeak for him and ask whether you haveno thought for the sorrow and misery of

his people. They aided you in yourdistress, and in recompense you have thusfar brought ruin only, though doubtlessundesigned.”

Now these were fair words and true, ifproudly and grimly spoken; and Bilbothought that Thorin would at once admitwhat justice was in them. He did not, ofcourse, expect that any one wouldremember that it was he who discoveredall by himself the dragon’s weak spot; andthat was just as well, for no one ever did.But also he did not reckon with the powerthat gold has upon which a dragon haslong brooded, nor with dwarvish hearts.Long hours in the past days Thorin hadspent in the treasury, and the lust of it washeavy on him. Though he had huntedchiefly for the Arkenstone, yet he had an

eye for many another wonderful thing thatwas lying there, about which were woundold memories of the labours and thesorrows of his race.

“You put your worst cause last and inthe chief place,” Thorin answered. “Tothe treasure of my people no man has aclaim, because Smaug who stole it from usalso robbed him of life or home. Thetreasure was not his that his evil deedsshould be amended with a share of it. Theprice of the goods and the assistance thatwe received of the Lake-men we willfairly pay—in due time. But nothing willwe give, not even a loaf’s worth, underthreat of force. While an armed host liesbefore our doors, we look on you as foesand thieves.

“It is in my mind to ask what share of

their inheritance you would have paid toour kindred, had you found the hoardunguarded and us slain.”

“A just question,” replied Bard. “Butyou are not dead, and we are not robbers.Moreover the wealthy may have pitybeyond right on the needy that befriendedthem when they were in want. And still myother claims remain unanswered.”

“I will not parley, as I have said, witharmed men at my gate. Nor at all with thepeople of the Elvenking, whom Iremember with small kindness. In thisdebate they have no place. Begone nowere our arrows fly! And if you wouldspeak with me again, first dismiss theelvish host to the woods where it belongs,and then return, laying down your armsbefore you approach the threshold.”

“The Elvenking is my friend, and he hassuccoured the people of the Lake in theirneed, though they had no claim butfriendship on him,” answered Bard. “Wewill give you time to repent your words.Gather your wisdom ere we return!” Thenhe departed and went back to the camp.

Ere many hours were past, the banner-bearers returned, and trumpeters stoodforth and blew a blast:

“In the name of Esgaroth and theForest,” one cried, “we speak unto ThorinThrain’s son Oakenshield, calling himselfthe King under the Mountain, and we bidhim consider well the claims that havebeen urged, or be declared our foe. At theleast he shall deliver one twelfth portionof the treasure unto Bard, as the dragon-slayer, and as the heir of Girion. From that

portion Bard will himself contribute to theaid of Esgaroth; but if Thorin would havethe friendship and honour of the landsabout, as his sires had of old, then he willgive also somewhat of his own for thecomfort of the men of the Lake.”

Then Thorin seized a bow of horn andshot an arrow at the speaker. It smote intohis shield and stuck there quivering.

“Since such is your answer,” he calledin return, “I declare the Mountainbesieged. You shall not depart from it,until you call on your side for a truce anda parley. We will bear no weaponsagainst you, but we leave you to yourgold. You may eat that, if you will!”

With that the messengers departedswiftly, and the dwarves were left toconsider their case. So grim had Thorin

become, that even if they had wished, theothers would not have dared to find faultwith him; but indeed most of them seemedto share his mind—except perhaps old fatBombur and Fili and Kili. Bilbo, ofcourse, disapproved of the whole turn ofaffairs. He had by now had more thanenough of the Mountain, and beingbesieged inside it was not at all to histaste.

“The whole place still stinks ofdragon,” he grumbled to himself, “and itmakes me sick. And cram is beginningsimply to stick in my throat.”

Chapter XVI

A THIEF IN THE NIGHT

Now the days passed slowly and wearily.Many of the dwarves spent their timepiling and ordering the treasure; and nowThorin spoke of the Arkenstone of Thrain,and bade them eagerly to look for it inevery corner.

“For the Arkenstone of my father,” hesaid, “is worth more than a river of goldin itself, and to me it is beyond price. Thatstone of all the treasure I name untomyself, and I will be avenged on anyonewho finds it and withholds it.”

Bilbo heard these words and he grewafraid, wondering what would happen, ifthe stone was found—wrapped in an oldbundle of tattered oddments that he usedas a pillow. All the same he did not speakof it, for as the weariness of the days grewheavier, the beginnings of a plan had comeinto his little head.

Things had gone on like this for sometime, when the ravens brought news thatDain and more than five hundred dwarves,hurrying from the Iron Hills, were nowwithin about two days’ march of Dale,coming from the North-East.

“But they cannot reach the Mountainunmarked,” said Roäc, “and I fear lestthere be battle in the valley. I do not callthis counsel good. Though they are a grimfolk, they are not likely to overcome the

host that besets you; and even if they didso, what will you gain? Winter and snowis hastening behind them. How shall yoube fed without the friendship and goodwillof the lands about you? The treasure islikely to be your death, though the dragonis no more!”

But Thorin was not moved. “Winter andsnow will bite both men and elves,” hesaid, “and they may find their dwelling inthe waste grievous to bear. With myfriends behind them and winter upon them,they will perhaps be in softer mood toparley with.”

That night Bilbo made up his mind. Thesky was black and moonless. As soon as itwas full dark, he went to a corner of aninner chamber just within the gate anddrew from his bundle a rope, and also the

Arkenstone wrapped in a rag. Then heclimbed to the top of the wall. OnlyBombur was there, for it was his turn towatch, and the dwarves kept only onewatchman at a time.

“It is mighty cold!” said Bombur. “Iwish we could have a fire up here as theyhave in the camp!”

“It is warm enough inside,” said Bilbo.“I daresay; but I am bound here till

midnight,” grumbled the fat dwarf. “Asorry business altogether. Not that Iventure to disagree with Thorin, may hisbeard grow ever longer; yet he was ever adwarf with a stiff neck.”

“Not as stiff as my legs,” said Bilbo. “Iam tired of stairs and stone passages. Iwould give a good deal for the feel ofgrass at my toes.”

“I would give a good deal for the feelof a strong drink in my throat, and for asoft bed after a good supper!”

“I can’t give you those, while the siegeis going on.

But it is long since I watched, and I willtake your turn for you, if you like. There isno sleep in me tonight.”

“You are a good fellow, Mr. Baggins,and I will take your offer kindly. If thereshould be anything to note, rouse me first,mind you! I will lie in the inner chamberto the left, not far away.”

“Off you go!” said Bilbo. “I will wakeyou at midnight, and you can wake the nextwatchman.”

As soon as Bombur had gone, Bilbo puton his ring, fastened his rope, slippeddown over the wall, and was gone. He

had about five hours before him. Bomburwould sleep (he could sleep at any time,and ever since the adventure in the foresthe was always trying to recapture thebeautiful dreams he had then); and all theothers were busy with Thorin. It wasunlikely that any, even Fili or Kili, wouldcome out on the wall until it was theirturn.

It was very dark, and the road after awhile, when he left the newly made pathand climbed down towards the lowercourse of the stream, was strange to him.At last he came to the bend where he hadto cross the water, if he was to make forthe camp, as he wished. The bed of thestream was there shallow but alreadybroad, and fording it in the dark was noteasy for the little hobbit. He was nearly

across when he missed his footing on around stone and fell into the cold waterwith a splash. He had barely scrambledout on the far bank, shivering andspluttering, when up came elves in thegloom with bright lanterns and searchedfor the cause of the noise.

“That was no fish!” one said. “There isa spy about. Hide your lights! They willhelp him more than us, if it is that queerlittle creature that is said to be theirservant.”

“Servant, indeed!” snorted Bilbo; andin the middle of his snort he sneezedloudly, and the elves immediatelygathered towards the sound.

“Let’s have a light!” he said. “I amhere, if you want me!” and he slipped offhis ring, and popped from behind a rock.

They seized him quickly, in spite oftheir surprise. “Who are you? Are you thedwarves’ hobbit? What are you doing?How did you get so far past oursentinels?” they asked one after another.

“I am Mr. Bilbo Baggins,” heanswered, “companion of Thorin, if youwant to know. I know your king well bysight, though perhaps he doesn’t know meto look at. But Bard will remember me,and it is Bard I particularly want to see.”

“Indeed!” said they, “and what may beyour business?”

“Whatever it is, it’s my own, my goodelves. But if you wish ever to get back toyour own woods from this cold cheerlessplace,” he answered shivering, “you willtake me along quick to a fire, where I candry—and then you will let me speak to

your chiefs as quick as may be. I haveonly an hour or two to spare.”

That is how it came about that some twohours after his escape from the Gate,Bilbo was sitting beside a warm fire infront of a large tent, and there sat too,gazing curiously at him, both theElvenking and Bard. A hobbit in elvisharmour, partly wrapped in an old blanket,was something new to them.

“Really you know,” Bilbo was sayingin his best business manner, “things areimpossible. Personally I am tired of thewhole affair. I wish I was back in theWest in my own home, where folk aremore reasonable. But I have an interest in

this matter—one fourteenth share, to beprecise, according to a letter, whichfortunately I believe I have kept.” Hedrew from a pocket in his old jacket(which he still wore over his mail),crumpled and much folded, Thorin’s letterthat had been put under the clock on hismantelpiece in May!

“A share in the profits, mind you,” hewent on. “I am aware of that. Personally Iam only too ready to consider all yourclaims carefully, and deduct what is rightfrom the total before putting in my ownclaim. However you don’t know ThorinOakenshield as well as I do now. I assureyou, he is quite ready to sit on a heap ofgold and starve, as long as you sit here.”

“Well, let him!” said Bard. “Such afool deserves to starve.”

“Quite so,” said Bilbo. “I see yourpoint of view. At the same time winter iscoming on fast. Before long you will behaving snow and what not, and supplieswill be difficult—even for elves Iimagine. Also there will be otherdifficulties. You have not heard of Dainand the dwarves of the Iron Hills?”

“We have, a long time ago; but what hashe got to do with us?” asked the king.

“I thought as much. I see I have someinformation you have not got. Dain, I maytell you, is now less than two days’ marchoff, and has at least five hundred grimdwarves with him—a good many of themhave had experience in the dreadful dwarfand goblin wars, of which you have nodoubt heard. When they arrive there maybe serious trouble.”

“Why do you tell us this? Are youbetraying your friends, or are youthreatening us?” asked Bard grimly.

“My dear Bard!” squeaked Bilbo.“Don’t be so hasty! I never met suchsuspicious folk! I am merely trying toavoid trouble for all concerned. Now Iwill make you an offer! !”

“Let us hear it!” they said.“You may see it!” said he. “It is this!”

and he drew forth the Arkenstone, andthrew away the wrapping.

The Elvenking himself, whose eyeswere used to things of wonder and beauty,stood up in amazement. Even Bard gazedmarvelling at it in silence. It was as if aglobe had been filled with moonlight andhung before them in a net woven of theglint of frosty stars.

“This is the Arkenstone of Thrain,” saidBilbo, “the Heart of the Mountain; and itis also the heart of Thorin. He values itabove a river of gold. I give it to you. Itwill aid you in your bargaining.” ThenBilbo, not without a shudder, not without aglance of longing, handed the marvellousstone to Bard, and he held it in his hand,as though dazed.

“But how is it yours to give?” he askedat last with an effort.

“O well!” said the hobbituncomfortably. “It isn’t exactly; but, well,I am willing to let it stand against all myclaim, don’t you know. I may be a burglar—or so they say: personally I never reallyfelt like one—but I am an honest one, Ihope, more or less. Anyway I am goingback now, and the dwarves can do what

they like to me. I hope you will find ituseful.”

The Elvenking looked at Bilbo with anew wonder. “Bilbo Baggins!” he said.“You are more worthy to wear the armourof elf-princes than many that have lookedmore comely in it. But I wonder if ThorinOakenshield will see it so. I have moreknowledge of dwarves in general than youhave perhaps. I advise you to remain withus, and here you shall be honoured andthrice welcome.”

“Thank you very much I am sure,” saidBilbo with a bow. “But I don’t think Iought to leave my friends like this, afterall we have gone through together. And Ipromised to wake old Bombur atmidnight, too! Really I must be going, andquickly.”

Nothing they could say would stop him;so an escort was provided for him, and ashe went both the king and Bard salutedhim with honour. As they passed throughthe camp an old man, wrapped in a darkcloak, rose from a tent door where he wassitting and came towards them.

“Well done! Mr. Baggins!” he said,clapping Bilbo on the back. “There isalways more about you than anyoneexpects!” It was Gandalf.

For the first time for many a day Bilbowas really delighted. But there was notime for all the questions that heimmediately wished to ask.

“All in good time!” said Gandalf.“Things are drawing towards the end now,unless I am mistaken. There is anunpleasant time just in front of you; but

keep your heart up! You may comethrough all right. There is news brewingthat even the ravens have not heard. Goodnight!”

Puzzled but cheered, Bilbo hurried on.He was guided to a safe ford and setacross dry, and then he said farewell tothe elves and climbed carefully backtowards the Gate. Great weariness beganto come over him; but it was well beforemidnight when he clambered up the ropeagain—it was still where he had left it. Heuntied it and hid it, and then he sat downon the wall and wondered anxiously whatwould happen next.

At midnight he woke up Bombur; andthen in turn rolled himself up in his corner,without listening to the old dwarf’s thanks(which he felt he had hardly earned). He

was soon fast asleep forgetting all hisworries till the morning. As a matter offact he was dreaming of eggs and bacon.

Chapter XVII

THE CLOUDS BURST

Next day the trumpets rang early in thecamp. Soon a single runner was seenhurrying along the narrow path. At adistance he stood and hailed them, askingwhether Thorin would now listen toanother embassy, since new tidings hadcome to hand, and matters were changed.

“That will be Dain!” said Thorin whenhe heard. “They will have got wind of hiscoming. I thought that would alter theirmood! Bid them come few in number andweaponless, and I will hear,” he called to

the messenger.About midday the banners of the Forest

and the Lake were seen to be borne forthagain. A company of twenty wasapproaching. At the beginning of thenarrow way they laid aside sword andspear, and came on towards the Gate.Wondering, the dwarves saw that amongthem were both Bard and the Elvenking,before whom an old man wrapped incloak and hood bore a strong casket ofiron-bound wood.

“Hail Thorin!” said Bard. “Are youstill of the same mind?”

“My mind does not change with therising and setting of a few suns,”answered Thorin. “Did you come to askme idle questions? Still the elf-host hasnot departed as I bade! Till then you come

in vain to bargain with me.”“Is there then nothing for which you

would yield any of your gold?”“Nothing that you or your friends have

to offer.”“What of the Arkenstone of Thrain?”

said he, and at the same moment the oldman opened the casket and held aloft thejewel. The light leapt from his hand,bright and white in the morning.

Then Thorin was stricken dumb withamazement and confusion. No one spokefor a long while.

Thorin at length broke the silence, andhis voice was thick with wrath. “Thatstone was my father’s, and is mine,” hesaid. “Why should I purchase my own?”But wonder overcame him and he added:“But how came you by the heirloom of my

house—if there is need to ask such aquestion of thieves?”

“We are not thieves,” Bard answered.“Your own we will give back in return forour own.”

“How came you by it?” shouted Thorinin gathering rage.

“I gave it to them!” squeaked Bilbo,who was peering over the wall, by now ina dreadful fright.

“You! You!” cried Thorin, turning uponhim and grasping him with both hands.“You miserable hobbit! You undersized—burglar!” he shouted at a loss for words,and he shook poor Bilbo like a rabbit.

“By the beard of Durin! I wish I hadGandalf here! Curse him for his choice ofyou! May his beard wither! As for you Iwill throw you to the rocks!” he cried and

lifted Bilbo in his arms.“Stay! Your wish is granted!” said a

voice. The old man with the casket threwaside his hood and cloak. “Here isGandalf! And none too soon it seems. Ifyou don’t like my Burglar, please don’tdamage him.

Put him down, and listen first to whathe has to say!”

“You all seem in league!” said Thorindropping Bilbo on the top of the wall.“Never again will I have dealings withany wizard or his friends. What have youto say, you descendant of rats?”

“Dear me! Dear me!” said Bilbo. “I amsure this is all very uncomfortable. Youmay remember saying that I might choosemy own fourteenth share? Perhaps I took ittoo literally—I have been told that

dwarves are sometimes politer in wordthan in deed. The time was, all the same,when you seemed to think that I had beenof some service. Descendant of rats,indeed! Is this all the service of you andyour family that I was promised, Thorin?Take it that I have disposed of my share asI wished, and let it go at that!”

“I will,” said Thorin grimly. “And Iwill let you go at that—and may we nevermeet again!” Then he turned and spokeover the wall. “I am betrayed,” he said. “Itwas rightly guessed that I could notforbear to redeem the Arkenstone, thetreasure of my house. For it I will giveone fourteenth share of the hoard in silverand gold, setting aside the gems; but thatshall be accounted the promised share ofthis traitor, and with that reward he shall

depart, and you can divide it as you will.He will get little enough, I doubt not. Takehim, if you wish him to live; and nofriendship of mine goes with him.

“Get down now to your friends!” hesaid to Bilbo, “or I will throw you down.”

“What about the gold and silver?”asked Bilbo. “That shall follow after, ascan be arranged,” said he. “Get down!”

“Until then we keep the stone,” criedBard.

“You are not making a very splendidfigure as King under the Mountain,” saidGandalf. “But things may change yet.”

“They may indeed,” said Thorin. Andalready, so strong was the bewildermentof the treasure upon him, he waspondering whether by the help of Dain hemight not recapture the Arkenstone and

withhold the share of the reward.And so Bilbo was swung down from

the wall, and departed with nothing for allhis trouble, except the armour whichThorin had given him already. More thanone of the dwarves in their hearts feltshame and pity at his going.

“Farewell!” he cried to them. “We maymeet again as friends.”

“Be off!” called Thorin. “You havemail upon you, which was made by myfolk, and is too good for you. It cannot bepierced by arrows; but if you do nothasten, I will sting your miserable feet. Sobe swift!”

“Not so hasty!” said Bard. “We willgive you until tomorrow. At noon we willreturn, and see if you have brought fromthe hoard the portion that is to be set

against the stone. If that is done withoutdeceit, then we will depart, and the elf-host will go back to the Forest. In themeanwhile farewell!”

With that they went back to the camp;but Thorin sent messengers by Roäctelling Dain of what had passed, andbidding him come with wary speed.

That day passed and the night. The nextday the wind shifted west, and the air wasdark and gloomy. The morning was stillearly when a cry was heard in the camp.Runners came in to report that a host ofdwarves had appeared round the easternspur of the Mountain and was nowhastening to Dale. Dain had come. He had

hurried on through the night, and so hadcome upon them sooner than they hadexpected. Each one of his folk was clad ina hauberk of steel mail that hung to hisknees, and his legs were covered withhose of a fine and flexible metal mesh, thesecret of whose making was possessed byDain’s people. The dwarves areexceedingly strong for their height, butmost of these were strong even fordwarves. In battle they wielded heavytwo-handed mattocks; but each of themhad also a short broad sword at his sideand a roundshield slung at his back. Theirbeards were forked and plaited and thrustinto their belts. Their caps were of ironand they were shod with iron, and theirfaces were grim.

Trumpets called men and elves to arms.

Before long the dwarves could be seencoming up the valley at a great pace. Theyhalted between the river and the easternspur; but a few held on their way, andcrossing the river drew near the camp; andthere they laid down their weapons andheld up their hands in sign of peace. Bardwent out to meet them, and with him wentBilbo.

“We are sent from Dain son of Nain,”they said when questioned. “We arehastening to our kinsmen in the Mountain,since we learn that the kingdom of old isrenewed. But who are you that sit in theplain as foes before defended walls?”This, of course, in the polite and ratherold-fashioned language of such occasions,meant simply: “You have no businesshere. We are going on, so make way or we

shall fight you!” They meant to push onbetween the Mountain and the loop of theriver; for the narrow land there did notseem to be strongly guarded.

Bard, of course, refused to allow thedwarves to go straight on to the Mountain.He was determined to wait until the goldand silver had been brought out inexchange for the Arkenstone; for he didnot believe that this would be done, ifonce the fortress was manned with solarge and warlike a company. They hadbrought with them a great store ofsupplies; for the dwarves can carry veryheavy burdens, and nearly all of Dain’sfolk, in spite of their rapid march, borehuge packs on their backs in addition totheir weapons. They would stand a siegefor weeks, and by that time yet more

dwarves might come, and yet more, forThorin had many relatives. Also theywould be able to reopen and guard someother gate, so that the besiegers wouldhave to encircle the whole mountain; andfor that they had not sufficient numbers.

These were, in fact, precisely theirplans (for the raven-messengers had beenbusy between Thorin and Dain); but forthe moment the way was barred, so afterangry words the dwarf-messengers retiredmuttering in their beards. Bard then sentmessengers at once to the Gate; but theyfound no gold or payment. Arrows cameforth as soon as they were within shot, andthey hastened back in dismay. In the campall was now astir, as if for battle; for thedwarves of Dain were advancing alongthe eastern bank.

“Fools!” laughed Bard, “to come thusbeneath the Mountain’s arm! They do notunderstand war above ground, whateverthey may know of battle in the mines.There are many of our archers andspearmen now hidden in the rocks upontheir right flank. Dwarf-mail may be good,but they will soon be hard put to it. Let usset on them now from both sides, beforethey are fully rested!”

But the Elvenking said: “Long will Itarry, ere I begin this war for gold. Thedwarves cannot pass us, unless we will,or do anything that we cannot mark. Let ushope still for something that will bringreconciliation. Our advantage in numberswill be enough, if in the end it must cometo unhappy blows.”

But he reckoned without the dwarves.

The knowledge that the Arkenstone was inthe hands of the besiegers burned in theirthoughts; also they guessed the hesitationof Bard and his friends, and resolved tostrike while they debated.

Suddenly without a signal they sprangsilently forward to attack. Bows twangedand arrows whistled; battle was about tobe joined.

Still more suddenly a darkness came onwith dreadful swiftness! A black cloudhurried over the sky. Winter thunder on awild wind rolled roaring up and rumbledin the Mountain, and lightning lit its peak.And beneath the thunder another blacknesscould be seen whirling forward; but it didnot come with the wind, it came from theNorth, like a vast cloud of birds, so densethat no light could be seen between their

wings.“Halt!” cried Gandalf, who appeared

suddenly, and stood alone, with armsuplifted, between the advancing dwarvesand the ranks awaiting them. “Halt!” hecalled in a voice like thunder, and his staffblazed forth with a flash like the lightning.“Dread has come upon you all! Alas! ithas come more swiftly than I guessed. TheGoblins are upon you! Bolg* of the Northis coming, O Dain! whose father you slewin Moria. Behold! the bats are above hisarmy like a sea of locusts. They ride uponwolves and Wargs are in their train!”

Amazement and confusion fell uponthem all. Even as Gandalf had beenspeaking the darkness grew. The dwarveshalted and gazed at the sky. The elvescried out with many voices.

“Come!” called Gandalf. “There is yettime for council. Let Dain son of Naincome swiftly to us!”

So began a battle that none had expected;and it was called the Battle of FiveArmies, and it was very terrible. Uponone side were the Goblins and the WildWolves, and upon the other were Elvesand Men and Dwarves. This is how it fellout. Ever since the fall of the Great Goblinof the Misty Mountains the hatred of theirrace for the dwarves had been rekindledto fury. Messengers had passed to and frobetween all their cities, colonies andstrongholds; for they resolved now to winthe dominion of the North. Tidings they

had gathered in secret ways; and in all themountains there was a forging and anarming. Then they marched and gatheredby hill and valley, going ever by tunnel orunder dark, until around and beneath thegreat mountain Gundabad of the North,where was their capital, a vast host wasassembled ready to sweep down in timeof storm unawares

upon the South. Then they learned of thedeath of Smaug, and joy was in theirhearts; and they hastened night after nightthrough the mountains, and came thus atlast on a sudden from the North hard onthe heels of Dain. Not even the ravensknew of their coming until they came outin the broken lands which divided theLonely Mountain from the hills behind.How much Gandalf knew cannot be said,

but it is plain that he had not expected thissudden assault.

This is the plan that he made in councilwith the Elven-king and with Bard; andwith Dain, for the dwarf-lord now joinedthem: the Goblins were the foes of all, andat their coming all other quarrels wereforgotten. Their only hope was to lure thegoblins into the valley between the armsof the Mountain; and themselves to manthe great spurs that struck south and east.Yet this would be perilous, if the goblinswere in sufficient numbers to overrun theMountain itself, and so attack them alsofrom behind and above; but there was notime to make any other plan, or to summonany help.

Soon the thunder passed, rolling awayto the South-East; but the bat-cloud came,

flying lower, over the shoulder of theMountain, and whirled above themshutting out the light and filling them withdread.

“To the Mountain!” called Bard. “Tothe Mountain! Let us take our places whilethere is yet time!”

On the Southern spur, in its lowerslopes and in the rocks at its feet, theElves were set; on the Eastern spur weremen and dwarves. But Bard and some ofthe nimblest of men and elves climbed tothe height of the Eastern shoulder to gain aview to the North. Soon they could see thelands before the Mountain’s feet blackwith a hurrying multitude. Ere long thevanguard swirled round the spur’s end andcame rushing into Dale. These were theswiftest wolf-riders, and already their

cries and howls rent the air afar. A fewbrave men were strung before them tomake a feint of resistance, and many therefell before the rest drew back and fled toeither side. As Gandalf had hoped, thegoblin army had gathered behind theresisted vanguard, and poured now in rageinto the valley, driving wildly up betweenthe arms of the Mountain, seeking for thefoe. Their banners were countless, blackand red, and they came on like a tide infury and disorder.

It was a terrible battle. The mostdreadful of all Bilbo’s experiences, andthe one which at the time he hated most—which is to say it was the one he was mostproud of, and most fond of recalling longafterwards, although he was quiteunimportant in it. Actually I may say he

put on his ring early in the business, andvanished from sight, if not from all danger.A magic ring of that sort is not a completeprotection in a goblin charge, nor does itstop flying arrows and wild spears; but itdoes help in getting out of the way, and itprevents your head from being speciallychosen for a sweeping stroke by a goblinswordsman.

The elves were the first to charge.Their hatred for the goblins is cold andbitter. Their spears and swords shone inthe gloom with a gleam of chill flame, sodeadly was the wrath of the hands thatheld them. As soon as the host of theirenemies was dense in the valley, they sentagainst it a shower of arrows, and eachflickered as it fled as if with stinging fire.Behind the arrows a thousand of their

spearmen leapt down and charged. Theyells were deafening. The rocks werestained black with goblin blood.

Just as the goblins were recoveringfrom the onslaught and the elf-charge washalted, there rose from across the valley adeep-throated roar. With cries of“Moria!” and “Dain, Dain!” the dwarvesof the Iron Hills plunged in, wielding theirmattocks, upon the other side; and besidethem came the men of the Lake with longswords.

Panic came upon the Goblins; and evenas they turned to meet this new attack, theelves charged again with renewednumbers. Already many of the goblinswere flying back down the river to escapefrom the trap; and many of their ownwolves were turning upon them and

rending the dead and the wounded.Victory seemed at hand, when a cry rangout on the heights above.

Goblins had scaled the Mountain fromthe other side and already many were onthe slopes above the Gate, and otherswere streaming down recklessly, heedlessof those that fell screaming from cliff andprecipice, to attack the spurs from above.Each of these could be reached by pathsthat ran down from the main mass of theMountain in the centre; and the defendershad too few to bar the way for long.Victory now vanished from hope. Theyhad only stemmed the first onslaught of theblack tide.

Day drew on. The goblins gatheredagain in the valley. There a host of Wargscame ravening and with them came the

bodyguard of Bolg, goblins of huge sizewith scimitars of steel. Soon actualdarkness was coming into a stormy sky;while still the great bats swirled about theheads and ears of elves and men, orfastened vampire-like on the stricken.Now Bard was fighting to defend theEastern spur, and yet giving slowly back;and the elf-lords were at bay about theirking upon the southern arm, near to thewatch-post on Ravenhill.

Suddenly there was a great shout, andfrom the Gate came a trumpet call. Theyhad forgotten Thorin! Part of the wall,moved by levers, fell outward with acrash into the pool. Out leapt the Kingunder the Mountain, and his companionsfollowed him. Hood and cloak were gone;they were in shining armour, and red light

leapt from their eyes. In the gloom thegreat dwarf gleamed like gold in a dyingfire.

Rocks were hurled down from on highby the goblins above; but they held on,leapt down to the falls’ foot, and rushedforward to battle. Wolf and rider fell orfled before them. Thorin wielded his axewith mighty strokes, and nothing seemedto harm him.

“To me! To me! Elves and Men! To me!O my kinsfolk!” he cried, and his voiceshook like a horn in the valley.

Down, heedless of order, rushed all thedwarves of Dain to his help. Down toocame many of the Lake-men, for Bardcould not restrain them; and out upon theother side came many of the spearmen ofthe elves. Once again the goblins were

stricken in the valley; and they were piledin heaps till Dale was dark and hideouswith their corpses. The Wargs werescattered and Thorin drove right againstthe bodyguard of Bolg. But he could notpierce their ranks.

Already behind him among the goblindead lay many men and many dwarves,and many a fair elf that should have livedyet long ages merrily in the wood. And asthe valley widened his onset grew everslower. His numbers were too few. Hisflanks were unguarded. Soon the attackerswere attacked, and they were forced into agreat ring, facing every way, hemmed allabout with goblins and wolves returningto the assault. The bodyguard of Bolgcame howling against them, and drove inupon their ranks like waves upon cliffs of

sand. Their friends could not help them,for the assault from the Mountain wasrenewed with redoubled force, and uponeither side men and elves were beingslowly beaten down.

On all this Bilbo looked with misery.He had taken his stand on Ravenhillamong the Elves—partly because therewas more chance of escape from thatpoint, and partly (with the more Tookishpart of his mind) because if he was goingto be in a last desperate stand, hepreferred on the whole to defend theElvenking. Gandalf, too, I may say, wasthere, sitting on the ground as if in deepthought, preparing, I suppose, some lastblast of magic before the end.

That did not seem far off. “It will not belong now,” thought Bilbo, “before the

goblins win the Gate, and we are allslaughtered or driven down and captured.Really it is enough to make one weep,after all one has gone through. I wouldrather old Smaug had been left with all thewretched treasure, than that these vilecreatures should get it, and poor oldBombur, and Balin and Fili and Kili andall the rest come to a bad end; and Bardtoo, and the Lake-men and the merryelves. Misery me! I have heard songs ofmany battles, and I have alwaysunderstood that defeat may be glorious. Itseems very uncomfortable, not to saydistressing. I wish I was well out of it.”

The clouds were torn by the wind, anda red sunset slashed the West. Seeing thesudden gleam in the gloom Bilbo lookedround. He gave a great cry: he had seen a

sight that made his heart leap, dark shapessmall yet majestic against the distantglow.

“The Eagles! The Eagles!” he shouted.“The Eagles are coming!”

Bilbo’s eyes were seldom wrong. Theeagles were coming down the wind, lineafter line, in such a host as must havegathered from all the eyries of the North.

“The Eagles! the Eagles!” Bilbo cried,dancing and waving his arms. If the elvescould not see him they could hear him.Soon they too took up the cry, and itechoed across the valley. Manywondering eyes looked up, though as yetnothing could be seen except from thesouthern shoulders of the Mountain.

“The Eagles!” cried Bilbo once more,but at that moment a stone hurtling from

above smote heavily on his helm, and hefell with a crash and knew no more.

Chapter XVIII

THE RETURN JOURNEY

When Bilbo came to himself, he wasliterally by himself. He was lying on theflat stones of Ravenhill, and no one wasnear. A cloudless day, but cold, wasbroad above him. He was shaking, and aschilled as stone, but his head burned withfire.

“Now I wonder what has happened?”he said to himself. “At any rate I am notyet one of the fallen heroes; but I supposethere is still time enough for that!”

He sat up painfully. Looking into the

valley he could see no living goblins.After a while as his head cleared a little,he thought he could see elves moving inthe rocks below. He rubbed his eyes.Surely there was a camp still in the plainsome distance off; and there was a comingand going about the Gate? Dwarvesseemed to be busy removing the wall. Butall was deadly still. There was no calland no echo of a song. Sorrow seemed tobe in the air.

“Victory after all, I suppose!” he said,feeling his aching head. “Well, it seems avery gloomy business.”

Suddenly he was aware of a manclimbing up and coming towards him.

“Hullo there!” he called with a shakyvoice. “Hullo there! What news?”

“What voice is it that speaks among the

stones?” said the man halting and peeringabout him not far from where Bilbo sat.

Then Bilbo remembered his ring! “WellI’m blessed!” said he. “This invisibilityhas its drawbacks after all. Otherwise Isuppose I might have spent a warm andcomfortable night in bed!”

“It’s me, Bilbo Baggins, companion ofThorin!” he cried, hurriedly taking off thering.

“It is well that I have found you!” saidthe man striding forward. “You areneeded and we have looked for you long.You would have been numbered amongthe dead, who are many, if Gandalf thewizard had not said that your voice waslast heard in this place. I have been sent tolook here for the last time. Are you muchhurt?”

“A nasty knock on the head, I think,”said Bilbo. “But I have a helm and a hardskull. All the same I feel sick and my legsare like straws.”

“I will carry you down to the camp inthe valley,” said the man, and picked himlightly up.

The man was swift and sure-footed. Itwas not long before Bilbo was set downbefore a tent in Dale; and there stoodGandalf, with his arm in a sling. Even thewizard had not escaped without a wound;and there were few unharmed in all thehost.

When Gandalf saw Bilbo, he wasdelighted. “Baggins!” he exclaimed.“Well I never! Alive after all—I am glad!I began to wonder if even your luck wouldsee you through! A terrible business, and

it nearly was disastrous. But other newscan wait. Come!” he said more gravely.“You are called for;” and leading thehobbit he took him within the tent.

“Hail! Thorin,” he said as he entered. “Ihave brought him.”

There indeed lay Thorin Oakenshield,wounded with many wounds, and his rentarmour and notched axe were cast uponthe floor. He looked up as Bilbo camebeside him.

“Farewell, good thief,” he said. “I gonow to the halls of waiting to sit besidemy fathers, until the world is renewed.Since I leave now all gold and silver, andgo where it is of little worth, I wish topart in friendship from you, and I wouldtake back my words and deeds at theGate.”

Bilbo knelt on one knee filled withsorrow. “Farewell, King under theMountain!” he said. “This is a bitteradventure, if it must end so; and not amountain of gold can amend it. Yet I amglad that I have shared in your perils—thathas been more than any Bagginsdeserves.”

“No!” said Thorin. “There is more inyou of good than you know, child of thekindly West. Some courage and somewisdom, blended in measure. If more of usvalued food and cheer and song abovehoarded gold, it would be a merrierworld. But sad or merry, I must leave itnow. Farewell!”

Then Bilbo turned away, and he wentby himself, and sat alone wrapped in ablanket, and, whether you believe it or

not, he wept until his eyes were red andhis voice was hoarse. He was a kindlylittle soul. Indeed it was long before hehad the heart to make a joke again. “Amercy it is,” he said at last to himself,“that I woke up when I did. I wish Thorinwere living, but I am glad that we partedin kindness. You are a fool, BilboBaggins, and you made a great mess ofthat business with the stone; and there wasa battle, in spite of all your efforts to buypeace and quiet, but I suppose you canhardly be blamed for that.”

All that had happened after he wasstunned, Bilbo learned later; but it gavehim more sorrow than joy, and he was

now weary of his adventure. He wasaching in his bones for the homewardjourney. That, however, was a littledelayed, so in the meantime I will tellsomething of events. The Eagles had longhad suspicion of the goblins’ mustering;from their watchfulness the movements inthe mountains could not be altogether hid.So they too had gathered in great numbers,under the great Eagle of the MistyMountains; and at length smelling battlefrom afar they had come speeding downthe gale in the nick of time. They it waswho dislodged the goblins from themountain-slopes, casting them overprecipices, or driving them downshrieking and bewildered among theirfoes. It was not long before they had freedthe Lonely Mountain, and elves and men

on either side of the valley could come atlast to the help of the battle below.

But even with the Eagles they were stilloutnumbered. In that last hour Beornhimself had appeared—no one knew howor from where. He came alone, and inbear’s shape; and he seemed to havegrown almost to giant-size in his wrath.

The roar of his voice was like drumsand guns; and he tossed wolves andgoblins from his path like straws andfeathers. He fell upon their rear, and brokelike a clap of thunder through the ring. Thedwarves were making a stand still abouttheir lords upon a low rounded hill. ThenBeorn stooped and lifted Thorin, who hadfallen pierced with spears, and bore himout of the fray.

Swiftly he returned and his wrath was

redoubled, so that nothing could withstandhim, and no weapon seemed to bite uponhim. He scattered the bodyguard, andpulled down Bolg himself and crushedhim. Then dismay fell on the Goblins andthey fled in all directions. But wearinessleft their enemies with the coming of newhope, and they pursued them closely, andprevented most of them from escapingwhere they could. They drove many ofthem into the Running River, and such asfled south or west they hunted into themarshes about the Forest River; and therethe greater part of the last fugitivesperished, while those that came hardly tothe Wood-elves’ realm were there slain,or drawn in to die deep in the tracklessdark of Mirkwood. Songs have said thatthree parts of the goblin warriors of the

North perished on that day, and themountains had peace for many a year.

Victory had been assured before the fallof night; but the pursuit was still on foot,when Bilbo returned to the camp; and notmany were in the valley save the moregrievously wounded.

“Where are the Eagles?” he askedGandalf that evening, as he lay wrapped inmany warm blankets.

“Some are in the hunt,” said the wizard,“but most have gone back to their eyries.They would not stay here, and departedwith the first light of morning. Dain hascrowned their chief with gold, and swornfriendship with them forever.”

“I am sorry. I mean, I should have likedto see them again,” said Bilbo sleepily;“perhaps I shall see them on the way

home. I suppose I shall be going homesoon?”

“As soon as you like,” said the wizard.Actually it was some days before Bilbo

really set out. They buried Thorin deepbeneath the Mountain, and Bard laid theArkenstone upon his breast.

“There let it lie till the Mountain falls!”he said. “May it bring good fortune to allhis folk that dwell here after!”

Upon his tomb the Elvenking then laidOrcrist, the elvish sword that had beentaken from Thorin in captivity. It is said insongs that it gleamed ever in the dark iffoes approached, and the fortress of thedwarves could not be taken by surprise.There now Dain son of Nain took up hisabode, and he became King under theMountain, and in time many other dwarves

gathered to his throne in the ancient halls.Of the twelve companions of Thorin, tenremained. Fili and Kili had fallendefending him with shield and body, forhe was their mother’s elder brother. Theothers remained with Dain; for Dain dealthis treasure well.

There was, of course, no longer anyquestion of dividing the hoard in suchshares as had been planned, to Balin andDwalin, and Dori and Nori and Ori, andOin and Gloin, and Bifur and Bofur andBombur—or to Bilbo. Yet a fourteenthshare of all the silver and gold, wroughtand unwrought, was given up to Bard; forDain said: “We will honour the agreementof the dead, and he has now theArkenstone in his keeping.”

Even a fourteenth share was wealth

exceedingly great, greater than that ofmany mortal kings. From that treasureBard sent much gold to the Master ofLake-town; and he rewarded his followersand friends freely. To the Elvenking hegave the emeralds of Girion, such jewelsas he most loved, which Dain had restoredto him.

To Bilbo he said: “This treasure is asmuch yours as it is mine; though oldagreements cannot stand, since so manyhave a claim in its winning and defence.Yet even though you were willing to layaside all your claim, I should wish that thewords of Thorin, of which he repented,should not prove true: that we should giveyou little. I would reward you most richlyof all.”

“Very kind of you,” said Bilbo. “But

really it is a relief to me. How on earthshould I have got all that treasure homewithout war and murder all along the way,I don’t know. And I don’t know what Ishould have done with it when I got home.I am sure it is better in your hands.”

In the end he would only take two smallchests, one filled with silver, and the otherwith gold, such as one strong pony couldcarry. “That will be quite as much as I canmanage,” said he.

At last the time came for him to saygood-bye to his friends. “Farewell,Balin!” he said; “and farewell, Dwalin;and farewell Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin,Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur! May yourbeards never grow thin!” And turningtowards the Mountain he added:“Farewell Thorin Oakenshield! And Fili

and Kili! May your memory never fade!”Then the dwarves bowed low before

their Gate, but words stuck in their throats.“Good-bye and good luck, wherever youfare!” said Balin at last. “If ever you visitus again, when our halls are made faironce more, then the feast shall indeed besplendid!”

“If ever you are passing my way,” saidBilbo, “don’t wait to knock! Tea is atfour; but any of you are welcome at anytime!”

Then he turned away.

The elf-host was on the march; and if itwas sadly lessened, yet many were glad,for now the northern world would be

merrier for many a long day. The dragonwas dead, and the goblins overthrown,and their hearts looked forward afterwinter to a spring of joy.

Gandalf and Bilbo rode behind theElvenking, and beside them strode Beorn,once again in man’s shape, and he laughedand sang in a loud voice upon the road. Sothey went on until they drew near to theborders of Mirkwood, to the north of theplace where the Forest River ran out.Then they halted, for the wizard and Bilbowould not enter the wood, even though theking bade them stay a while in his halls.They intended to go along the edge of theforest, and round its northern end in thewaste that lay between it and thebeginning of the Grey Mountains. It was along and cheerless road, but now that the

goblins were crushed, it seemed safer tothem than the dreadful pathways under thetrees. Moreover Beorn was going that waytoo.

“Farewell! O Elvenking!” said Gandalf.“Merry be the greenwood, while theworld is yet young! And merry be all yourfolk!”

“Farewell! O Gandalf!” said the king.“May you ever appear where you are mostneeded and least expected! The ofteneryou appear in my halls the better shall I bepleased!”

“I beg of you,” said Bilbo stammeringand standing on one foot, “to accept thisgift!” and he brought out a necklace ofsilver and pearls that Dain had given himat their parting.

“In what way have I earned such a gift,

O hobbit?” said the king.“Well, er, I thought, don’t you know,”

said Bilbo rather confused, “that, er, somelittle return should be made for your, er,hospitality. I mean even a burglar has hisfeelings. I have drunk much of your wineand eaten much of your bread.”

“I will take your gift, O Bilbo theMagnificent!” said the king gravely. “AndI name you elf-friend and blessed. Mayyour shadow never grow less (or stealingwould be too easy)! Farewell!”

Then the elves turned towards theForest, and Bilbo started on his long roadhome.

He had many hardships and adventures

before he got back. The Wild was still theWild, and there were many other things init in those days beside goblins; but he waswell guided and well guarded—thewizard was with him, and Beorn for muchof the way—and he was never in greatdanger again. Anyway by midwinterGandalf and Bilbo had come all the wayback, along both edges of the Forest, to thedoors of Beorn’s house; and there for awhile they both stayed. Yule-tide waswarm and merry there; and men came fromfar and wide to feast at Beorn’s bidding.The goblins of the Misty Mountains werenow few and terrified, and hidden in thedeepest holes they could find; and theWargs had vanished from the woods, sothat men went abroad without fear. Beornindeed became a great chief afterwards in

those regions and ruled a wide landbetween the mountains and the wood; andit is said that for many generations the menof his line had the power of taking bear’sshape, and some were grim men and bad,but most were in heart like Beorn, if lessin size and strength. In their day the lastgoblins were hunted from the MistyMountains and a new peace came over theedge of the Wild.

It was spring, and a fair one with mildweathers and a bright sun, before Bilboand Gandalf took their leave at last ofBeorn, and though he longed for home,Bilbo left with regret, for the flowers ofthe gardens of Beorn were in springtimeno less marvellous than in high summer.

At last they came up the long road, andreached the very pass where the goblins

had captured them before. But they cameto that high point at morning, and lookingbackward they saw a white sun shiningover the outstretched lands. There behindlay Mirkwood, blue in the distance, anddarkly green at the nearer edge even in thespring. There far away was the LonelyMountain on the edge of eyesight. On itshighest peak snow yet unmelted wasgleaming pale.

“So comes snow after fire, and evendragons have their ending!” said Bilbo,and he turned his back on his adventure.The Tookish part was getting very tired,and the Baggins was daily gettingstronger. “I wish now only to be in myown armchair!” he said.

Chapter XIX

THE LAST STAGE

It was on May the First that the two cameback at last to the brink of the valley ofRivendell, where stood the Last (or theFirst) Homely House. Again it wasevening, their ponies were tired,especially the one that carried thebaggage; and they all felt in need of rest.As they rode down the steep path, Bilboheard the elves still singing in the trees, asif they had not stopped since he left; andas soon as the riders came down into thelower glades of the wood they burst into a

song of much the same kind as before.This is something like it:

The dragon is withered,His bones are now crumbled;His armour is shivered,His splendour is humbled!Though sword shall be rusted,And throne and crown perishWith strength that men trustedAnd wealth that they cherish,Here grass is still growing,And leaves are yet swinging,The white water flowing,And elves are yet singing Come! Tra-la-la-lally! Come back to the valley!

The stars are far brighterThan gems without measure,The moon is far whiterThan silver in treasure;The fire is more shiningOn hearth in the gloamingThan gold won by mining,So why go a-roaming? O! Tra-la-la-lally Come back to the Valley.

O! Where are you going,So late in returning?The river is flowing,The stars are all burning!O! Whither so laden,So sad and so dreary?Here elf and elf-maiden

Now welcome the weary With Tra-la-la-lally Come back to the Valley, Tra-la-la-lally Fa-la-la-lally Fa-la!

Then the elves of the valley came outand greeted them and led them across thewater to the house of Elrond. There awarm welcome was made them, and therewere many eager ears that evening to hearthe tale of their adventures. Gandalf it waswho spoke, for Bilbo was fallen quiet anddrowsy. Most of the tale he knew, for hehad been in it, and had himself told muchof it to the wizard on their homeward wayor in the house of Beorn; but every now

and again he would open one eye, andlisten, when a part of the story which hedid not yet know came in.

It was in this way that he learned whereGandalf had been to; for he overheard thewords of the wizard to Elrond. Itappeared that Gandalf had been to a greatcouncil of the white wizards, masters oflore and good magic; and that they had atlast driven the Necromancer from his darkhold in the south of Mirkwood.

“Ere long now,” Gandalf was saying,“the Forest will grow somewhat morewholesome. The North will be freed fromthat horror for many long years, I hope.Yet I wish he were banished from theworld!”

“It would be well indeed,” said Elrond;“but I fear that will not come about in this

age of the world, or for many after.”When the tale of their journeyings was

told, there were other tales, and yet moretales, tales of long ago, and tales of newthings, and tales of no time at all, tillBilbo’s head fell forward on his chest,and he snored comfortably in a corner.

He woke to find himself in a white bed,and the moon shining through an openwindow. Below it many elves weresinging loud and clear on the banks of thestream.

Sing all ye joyful, now sing alltogether!The wind’s in the tree-top, thewind’s in the heather;The stars are in blossom, the moon

is in flower,And bright are the windows of Nightin her tower.

Dance all ye joyful, now dance alltogether!Soft is the grass, and let foot be likefeather!The river is silver, the shadows arefleeting;Merry is May-time, and merry ourmeeting.

Sing we now softly, and dreams letus weave him!Wind him in slumber and there letus leave him!

The wanderer sleepeth. Now soft behis pillow! Lullaby!Lullaby! Alder and Willow!

Sigh no more Pine, till the wind ofthe morn! Fall Moon! Dark be the land! Hush! Hush! Oak, Ash, andThorn!Hushed be all water, till dawn is athand!

“Well, Merry People!” said Bilbolooking out. “What time by the moon isthis? Your lullaby would waken a drunkengoblin! Yet I thank you.”

“And your snores would waken a stone

dragon—yet we thank you,” theyanswered with laughter. “It is drawingtowards dawn, and you have slept nowsince the night’s beginning. Tomorrow,perhaps, you will be cured of weariness.”

“A little sleep does a great cure in thehouse of Elrond,” said he; “but I will takeall the cure I can get. A second good night,fair friends!” And with that he went backto bed and slept till late morning.

Weariness fell from him soon in thathouse, and he had many a merry jest anddance, early and late, with the elves of thevalley. Yet even that place could not longdelay him now, and he thought always ofhis own home. After a week, therefore, hesaid farewell to Elrond, and giving himsuch small gifts as he would accept, herode away with Gandalf.

Even as they left the valley the skydarkened in the West before them, andwind and rain came up to meet them.

“Merry is May-time!” said Bilbo, as therain beat into his face. “But our back is tolegends and we are coming home. Isuppose this is the first taste of it.”

“There is a long road yet,” saidGandalf.

“But it is the last road,” said Bilbo.They came to the river that marked the

very edge of the borderland of the Wild,and to the ford beneath the steep bank,which you may remember. The water wasswollen both with the melting of thesnows at the approach of summer, andwith the daylong rain; but they crossedwith some difficulty, and pressed forward,as evening fell, on the last stage of their

journey.This was much as it had been before,

except that the company was smaller, andmore silent; also this time there were notrolls. At each point on the road Bilborecalled the happenings and the words ofa year ago—it seemed to him more liketen—so that, of course, he quickly notedthe place where the pony had fallen in theriver, and they had turned aside for theirnasty adventure with Tom and Bert andBill.

Not far from the road they found thegold of the trolls, which they had buried,still hidden and untouched. “I have enoughto last me my time,” said Bilbo, when theyhad dug it up. “You had better take this,Gandalf. I daresay you can find a use forit.”

“Indeed I can!” said the wizard. “Butshare and share alike! You may find youhave more needs than you expect.”

So they put the gold in bags and slungthem on the ponies, who were not at allpleased about it. After that their going wasslower, for most of the time they walked.But the land was green and there wasmuch grass through which the hobbitstrolled along contentedly. He mopped hisface with a red silk handkerchief—no! nota single one of his own had survived, hehad borrowed this one from Elrond—fornow June had brought summer, and theweather was bright and hot again.

As all things come to an end, even thisstory, a day came at last when they werein sight of the country where Bilbo hadbeen born and bred, where the shapes of

the land and of the trees were as wellknown to him as his hands and toes.Coming to a rise he could see his ownHill in the distance, and he stoppedsuddenly and said:

Roads go ever ever on, Over rock and under tree,By caves where never sun hasshone, By streams that never find thesea;Over snow by winter sown, And through the merry flowersof June,Over grass and over stone, And under mountains in themoon.

Roads go ever ever on Under cloud and under star,Yet feet that wandering have gone Turn at last to home afar.Eyes that fire and sword have seen And horror in the halls of stoneLook at last on meadows green And trees and hills they longhave known.

Gandalf looked at him. “My dearBilbo!” he said. “Something is the matterwith you! You are not the hobbit that youwere.”

And so they crossed the bridge andpassed the mill by the river and came rightback to Bilbo’s own door.

“Bless me! What’s going on?” he cried.

There was a great commotion, and peopleof all sorts, respectable andunrespectable, were thick round the door,and many were going in and out—not evenwiping their feet on the mat, as Bilbonoticed with annoyance.

If he was surprised, they were moresurprised still. He had arrived back in themiddle of an auction! There was a largenotice in black and red hung on the gate,stating that on June the Twenty-secondMessrs Grubb, Grubb, and Burroweswould sell by auction the effects of thelate Bilbo Baggins Esquire, of Bag-End,Underhill, Hobbiton. Sale to commence atten o’clock sharp. It was now nearlylunchtime, and most of the things hadalready been sold, for various prices fromnext to nothing to old songs (as is not

unusual at auctions). Bilbo’s cousins theSackville-Bagginses were, in fact, busymeasuring his rooms to see if their ownfurniture would fit. In short Bilbo was“Presumed Dead”, and not everybody thatsaid so was sorry to find the presumptionwrong.

The return of Mr. Bilbo Bagginscreated quite a disturbance, both under theHill and over the Hill, and across theWater; it was a great deal more than anine days’ wonder. The legal bother,indeed, lasted for years. It was quite along time before Mr. Baggins was in factadmitted to be alive again. The peoplewho had got specially good bargains at theSale took a deal of convincing; and in theend to save time Bilbo had to buy backquite a lot of his own furniture. Many of

his silver spoons mysteriouslydisappeared and were never accountedfor. Personally he suspected theSackville-Bagginses. On their side theynever admitted that the returned Bagginswas genuine, and they were not onfriendly terms with Bilbo ever after. Theyreally had wanted to live in his nicehobbit-hole so very much.

Indeed Bilbo found he had lost morethan spoons—he had lost his reputation. Itis true that for ever after he remained anelf-friend, and had the honour of dwarves,wizards, and all such folk as ever passedthat way; but he was no longer quiterespectable. He was in fact held by all thehobbits of the neighbourhood to be‘queer’—except by his nephews andnieces on the Took side, but even they

were not encouraged in their friendship bytheir elders.

I am sorry to say he did not mind. Hewas quite content; and the sound of thekettle on his hearth was ever after moremusical than it had been even in the quietdays before the Unexpected Party. Hissword he hung over the mantelpiece. Hiscoat of mail was arranged on a stand inthe hall (until he lent it to a Museum). Hisgold and silver was largely spent inpresents, both useful and extravagant—which to a certain extent accounts for theaffection of his nephews and his nieces.His magic ring he kept a great secret, forhe chiefly used it when unpleasant callerscame.

He took to writing poetry and visitingthe elves; and though many shook their

heads and touched their foreheads andsaid “Poor old Baggins!” and though fewbelieved any of his tales, he remainedvery happy to the end of his days, andthose were extraordinarily long.

One autumn evening some yearsafterwards Bilbo was sitting in his studywriting his memoirs—he thought ofcalling them “There and Back Again, aHobbit’s Holiday”—when there was aring at the door. It was Gandalf and adwarf; and the dwarf was actually Balin.

“Come in! Come in!” said Bilbo, andsoon they were settled in chairs by thefire. If Balin noticed that Mr. Baggins’waistcoat was more extensive (and had

real gold buttons), Bilbo also noticed thatBalin’s beard was several inches longer,and his jewelled belt was of greatmagnificence.

They fell to talking of their timestogether, of course, and Bilbo asked howthings were going in the lands of theMountain. It seemed they were going verywell. Bard had rebuilt the town in Daleand men had gathered to him from theLake and from South and West, and all thevalley had become tilled again and rich,and the desolation was now filled withbirds and blossoms in spring and fruit andfeasting in autumn. And Lake-town wasrefounded and was more prosperous thanever, and much wealth went up and downthe Running River; and there wasfriendship in those parts between elves

and dwarves and men.

The Hall at Bag-End Residence ofB.Baggins Esquire

The old Master had come to a bad end.Bard had given him much gold for the helpof the Lake-people, but being of the kindthat easily catches such disease he fellunder the dragon-sickness, and took mostof the gold and fled with it, and died ofstarvation in the Waste, deserted by hiscompanions.

“The new Master is of wiser kind,”said Balin, “and very popular, for, ofcourse, he gets most of the credit for thepresent prosperity. They are making songswhich say that in his day the rivers runwith gold.”

“Then the prophecies of the old songs

have turned out to be true, after a fashion!”said Bilbo.

“Of course!” said Gandalf. “And whyshould not they prove true? Surely youdon’t disbelieve the prophecies, becauseyou had a hand in bringing them aboutyourself? You don’t really suppose, doyou, that all your adventures and escapeswere managed by mere luck, just for yoursole bene-fit? You are a very fine person,Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you;but you are only quite a little fellow in awide world after all!”

“Thank goodness!” said Bilbo laughing,and handed him the tobacco-jar.

WORKS BY J.R.R. TOLKIENThe Hobbit

Leaf by NiggleOn Fairy-Stories

Farmer Giles of HamThe Homecoming of Beorhtnoth

The Lord of the RingsThe Adventures of Tom Bombadil

The Road Goes Ever On (with DonaldSwann)

Smith of Wootton Major

WORKS PUBLISHED POSTHUMOUSLYSir Gawain and the Green Knight, Pearl

and Sir OrfeoThe Father Christmas Letters

The SilmarillionPictures by J.R.R. Tolkien

Unfinished Tales

The Letters of J.R.R. TolkienFinn and Hengest

Mr BlissThe Monsters and the Critics & Other

EssaysRoverandom

The Children of HúrinThe Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún

THE HISTORY OF MIDDLE-EARTH – BY CHRISTOPHERTOLKIEN

I The Book of Lost Tales, Part OneII The Book of Lost Tales, Part Two

III The Lays of BeleriandIV The Shaping of Middle-earth

V The Lost Road and Other WritingsVI The Return of the ShadowVII The Treason of Isengard

VIII The War of the Ring

IX Sauron DefeatedX Morgoth’s Ring

XI The War of the JewelsXII The Peoples of Middle-earth

COPYRIGHT

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First published in Great Britain byGeorge Allen & Unwin 1937Second edition 1951Third edition 1966Fourth edition 1978

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EPub Edition MARCH 2009 ISBN: 978-0-007-32260-2

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* The reason for this use is given in TheLord of the Rings, III, 1136.

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