Джон Рональд Руэл Толкиен. The Fellownship of a Ring
страница №5
... I liked the sound of him. He seemedmighty put out, when I told him Mr. Baggins had left his old home for good.
Hissed at me, he did. It gave me quite a shudder. What sort of a fellow was
he? says I to the Gaffer. / don't know, says he; but he wasn't a hobbit. He
was tall and black-like, and he stooped aver me. I reckon it was one of the
Big Folk from foreign parts. He spoke funny.
'I couldn't stay to hear more, sir, since you were waiting; and I
didn't give much heed to it myself. The Gaffer is getting old, and more than
a bit blind, and it must have been near dark when this fellow come up the
Hill and found him taking the air at the end of our Row. I hope he hasn't
done no harm, sir, nor me.'
'The Gaffer can't be blamed anyway,' said Frodo. 'As a matter of fact I
heard him talking to a stranger, who seemed to be inquiring for me, and I
nearly went and asked him who it was. I wish I had, or you had told me about
it before. I might have been more careful on the road.'
'Still, there may be no connexion between this rider and the Gaffer's
stranger,' said Pippin. 'We left Hobbiton secretly enough, and I don't see
how he could have followed us.'
'What about the smelling, sir?' said Sam. 'And the Gaffer said he was a
black chap.'
'I wish I had waited for Gandalf,' Frodo muttered. 'But perhaps it
would only have made matters worse.'
'Then you know or guess something about this rider?' said Pippin, who
had caught the muttered words.
'I don't know, and I would rather not guess,' said Frodo. 'All right,
cousin Frodo! You can keep your secret for the present, if you want to be
mysterious. In the meanwhile what are we to do? I should like a bite and a
sup, but somehow I think we had better move on from here. Your talk of
sniffing riders with invisible noses has unsettled me.'
'Yes, I think we will move on now,' said Frodo; 'but not on the road
-in case that rider comes back, or another follows him. We ought to do a
good step more today. Buckland is still miles away.'
The shadows of the trees were long and thin on the grass, as they
started off again. They now kept a stone's throw to the left of the road,
and kept out of sight of it as much as they could. But this hindered them;
for the grass was thick and tussocky, and the ground uneven, and the trees
began to draw together into thickets.
The sun had gone down red behind the hills at their backs, and evening
was coming on before they came back to the road at the end of the long level
over which it had run straight for some miles. At that point it bent left
and went down into the lowlands of the Yale making for Stock; but a lane
branched right, winding through a wood of ancient oak-trees on its way to
Woodhall. 'That is the way for us,' said Frodo.
Not far from the road-meeting they came on the huge hulk of a tree: it
was still alive and had leaves on the small branches that it had put out
round the broken stumps of its long-fallen limbs; but it was hollow, and
could be entered by a great crack on the side away from the road. The
hobbits crept inside, and sat there upon a floor of old leaves and decayed
wood. They rested and had a light meal, talking quietly and listening from
time to time.
Twilight was about them as they crept back to the lane. The West wind
was sighing in the branches. Leaves were whispering. Soon the road began to
fall gently but steadily into the dusk. A star came out above the trees in
the darkening East before them. They went abreast and in step, to keep up
their spirits. After a time, as the stars grew thicker and brighter, the
feeling of disquiet left them, and they no longer listened for the sound of
hoofs. They began to hum softly, as hobbits have a way of doing as they walk
along, especially when they are drawing near to home at night. With most
hobbits it is a supper-song or a bed-song; but these hobbits hummed a
walking-song (though not, of course, without any mention of supper and bed).
Bilbo Baggins had made the words, to a tune that was as old as the hills,
and taught it to Frodo as they walked in the lanes of the Water-valley and
talked about Adventure.
Upon the hearth the fire is red,
Beneath the roof there is a bed;
But not yet weary are our feet,
Still round the corner we may meet
A sudden tree or standing stone
That none have seen but we alone.
Tree and flower and leaf and grass,
Let them pass! Let them pass!
Hill and water under sky,
Pass them by! Pass them by!
Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate,
And though we pass them by today,
Tomorrow we may come this way
And take the hidden paths that run
Towards the Moon or to the Sun.
Apple, thorn, and nut and sloe,
Let them go! Let them go!
Sand and stone and pool and dell,
Fare you well! Fare you well!
Home is behind, the world ahead,
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night,
Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead,
We'll wander back to home and bed.
Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,
Away shall fade! Away shall fade!
Fire and lamp, and meat and bread,
And then to bed! And then to bed!
The song ended. 'And now to bed! And now to bed!' sang Pippin in a high
voice.
'Hush!' said Frodo. 'I think I hear hoofs again.'
They slopped suddenly and stood as silent as tree-shadows, listening.
There was a sound of hoofs in the lane, some way behind, but coming slow and
clear down the wind. Quickly and quietly they slipped off the path, and ran
into the deeper shade under the oak-trees.
'Don't let us go too far!' said Frodo. 'I don't want to be seen, but I
want to see if it is another Black Rider.'
'Very well!' said Pippin. 'But don't forget the sniffing!'
The hoofs drew nearer. They had no time to find any hiding-place better
than the general darkness under the trees; Sam and Pippin crouched behind a
large tree-bole, while Frodo crept back a few yards towards the lane. It
showed grey and pale, a line of fading light through the wood. Above it the
stars were thick in the dim sky, but there was no moon.
The sound of hoofs stopped. As Frodo watched he saw something dark pass
across the lighter space between two trees, and then halt. It looked like
the black shade of a horse led by a smaller black shadow. The black shadow
stood close to the point where they had left the path, and it swayed from
side to side. Frodo thought he heard the sound of snuffling. The shadow bent
to the ground, and then began to crawl towards him.
Once more the desire to slip on the Ring came over Frodo; but this time
it was stronger than before. So strong that, almost before he realized what
he was doing, his hand was groping in his pocket. But at that moment there
came a sound like mingled song and laughter. Clear voices rose and fell in
the starlit air. The black shadow straightened up and retreated. It climbed
on to the shadowy horse and seemed to vanish across the lane into the
darkness on the other side. Frodo breathed again.
'Elves!' exclaimed Sam in a hoarse whisper. 'Elves, sir!' He would have
burst out of the trees and dashed off towards the voices, if they had not
pulled him back.
'Yes, it is Elves,' said Frodo. 'One can meet them sometimes in the
Woody End. They don't live in the Shire, but they wander into it in Spring
and Autumn, out of their own lands away beyond the Tower Hills. I am
thankful that they do! You did not see, but that Black Rider stopped just
here and was actually crawling towards us when the song began. As soon as he
heard the voices he slipped away.'
'What about the Elves?' said Sam, too excited to trouble about the
rider. 'Can't we go and see them?'
'Listen! They are coming this way,' said Frodo. 'We have only to wait.'
The singing drew nearer. One clear voice rose now above the others. It was
singing in the fair elven-tongue, of which Frodo knew only a little, and the
others knew nothing. Yet the sound blending with the melody seemed to shape
itself in their thought into words which they only partly understood. This
was the song as Frodo heard it:
Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear!
O Queen beyond the Western Seas!
O Light to us that wander here
Amid the world of woven trees!
Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!
Clear are thy eyes and bright thy breath!
Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee
In a far land beyond the Sea.
O stars that in the Sunless Year
With shining hand by her were sawn,
In windy fields now bright and clear
We see your silver blossom blown!
O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees,
Thy starlight on the Western Seas.
The song ended. 'These are High Elves! They spoke the name of
Elbereth!' said Frodo in amazement, 'Few of that fairest folk are ever seen
in the Shire. Not many now remain in Middle-earth, east of the Great Sea.
This is indeed a strange chance!'
The hobbits sat in shadow by the wayside. Before long the Elves came
down the lane towards the valley. They passed slowly, and the hobbits could
see the starlight glimmering on their hair and in their eyes. They bore no
lights, yet as they walked a shimmer, like the light of the moon above the
rim of the hills before it rises, seemed to fall about their feet. They were
now silent, and as the last Elf passed he turned and looked towards the
hobbits and laughed.
'Hail, Frodo!' he cried. 'You are abroad late. Or are you perhaps
lost?' Then he called aloud to the others, and all the company stopped and
gathered round.
'This is indeed wonderful!' they said. 'Three hobbits in a wood at
night! We have not seen such a thing since Bilbo went away. What is the
meaning of it?'
'The meaning of it, fair people,' said Frodo, 'is simply that we seem
to be going the same way as you are. I like walking under the stars. But I
would welcome your company.'
'But we have no need of other company, and hobbits are so dull,' they
laughed. 'And how do you know that we go the same way as you, for you do not
know whither we are going?'
'And how do you know my name?' asked Frodo in return.
'We know many things,' they said. 'We have seen you often before with
Bilbo, though you may not have seen us.'
'Who are you, and who is your lord?' asked Frodo.
'I am Gildor,' answered their leader, the Elf who had first hailed him.
'Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finrod. We are Exiles, and most of our
kindred have long ago departed and we too are now only tarrying here a
while, ere we return over the Great Sea. But some of our kinsfolk dwell
still in peace in Rivendell. Come now, Frodo, tell us what you are doing?
For we see that there is some shadow of fear upon you.'
'O Wise People!' interrupted Pippin eagerly. 'Tell us about the Black
Riders!'
'Black Riders?' they said in low voices. 'Why do you ask about Black
Riders?'
'Because two Black Riders have overtaken us today, or one has done so
twice,' said Pippin; 'only a little while ago he slipped away as you drew
near.'
The Elves did not answer at once, but spoke together softly in their
own tongue. At length Gildor turned to the hobbits. 'We will not speak of
this here,' he said. 'We think you had best come now with us. It is not our
custom, but for this time we will lake you on our road, and you shall lodge
with us tonight, if you will.'
'O Fair Folk! This is good fortune beyond my hope,' said Pippin. Sam
was speechless. 'I thank you indeed, Gildor Inglorion,' said Frodo bowing.
'Elen sнla lъmenn' omentielvo, a star shines on the hour of our meeting,' he
added in the high-elven speech.
'Be careful, friends!' cried Gildor laughing. 'Speak no secrets! Here
is a scholar in the Ancient Tongue. Bilbo was a good master. Hail,
Elf-friend!' he said, bowing to Frodo. 'Come now with your friends and join
our company! You had best walk in the middle so that you may not stray. You
may be weary before we halt.'
'Why? Where are you going?' asked Frodo.
'For tonight we go to the woods on the hills above Woodhall. It is some
miles, but you shall have rest at the end of it, and it will shorten your
journey tomorrow.'
They now marched on again in silence, and passed like shadows and faint
lights: for Elves (even more than hobbits) could walk when they wished
without sound or footfall. Pippin soon began to feel sleepy, and staggered
once or twice; but each time a tall Elf at his side put out his arm and
saved him from a fall. Sam walked along at Frodo's side, as if in a dream,
with an expression on his face half of fear and half of astonished joy.
The woods on either side became denser; the trees were now younger and
thicker; and as the lane went lower, running down into a fold of the hills,
there were many deep brakes of hazel on the rising slopes at either hand. At
last the Elves turned aside from the path. A green ride lay almost unseen
through the thickets on the right; and this they followed as it wound away
back up the wooded slopes on to the top of a shoulder of the hills that
stood out into the lower land of the river-valley. Suddenly they came out of
the shadow of the trees, and before them lay a wide space of grass, grey
under the night. On three sides the woods pressed upon it; but eastward the
ground fell steeply and the tops of the dark trees, growing at the bottom of
the slope, were below their feet. Beyond, the low lands lay dim and flat
under the stars. Nearer at hand a few lights twinkled in the village of
Woodhall.
The Elves sat on the grass and spoke together in soft voices; they
seemed to take no further notice of the hobbits. Frodo and his companions
wrapped themselves in cloaks and blankets, and drowsiness stole over them.
The night grew on, and the lights in the valley went out. Pippin fell
asleep, pillowed on a green hillock.
Away high in the East swung Remmirath, the Netted Stars, and slowly
above the mists red Borgil rose, glowing like a jewel of fire. Then by some
shift of airs all the mist was drawn away like a veil, and there leaned up,
as he climbed over the rim of the world, the Swordsman of the Sky,
Menelvagor with his shining belt. The Elves all burst into song. Suddenly
under the trees a fire sprang up with a red light.
'Come!' the Elves called to the hobbits. 'Come! Now is the time for
speech and merriment!'
Pippin sat up and rubbed his eyes. He shivered. 'There is a fire in the
hall, and food for hungry guests,' said an Elf standing before him.
At the south end of the greensward there was an opening. There the
green floor ran on into the wood, and formed a wide space like a hall,
roofed by the boughs of trees. Their great trunks ran like pillars down each
side. In the middle there was a wood-fire blazing, and upon the tree-pillars
torches with lights of gold and silver were burning steadily. The Elves sat
round the fire upon the grass or upon the sawn rings of old trunks. Some
went to and fro bearing cups and pouring drink; others brought food on
heaped plates and dishes.
'This is poor fare,' they said to the hobbits; 'for we are lodging in
the greenwood far from our halls. If ever you are our guests at home, we
will treat you better.'
'It seems to me good enough for a birthday-party,' said Frodo.
Pippin afterwards recalled little of either food or drink, for his mind
was filled with the light upon the elf-faces, and the sound of voices so
various and so beautiful that he felt in a waking dream. But he remembered
that there was bread, surpassing the savour of a fair white loaf to one who
is starving; and fruits sweet as wildberries and richer than the tended
fruits of gardens; he drained a cup that was filled with a fragrant draught,
cool as a clear fountain, golden as a summer afternoon.
Sam could never describe in words, nor picture clearly to himself, what
he felt or thought that night, though it remained in his memory as one of
the chief events of his life. The nearest he ever got was to say: 'Well,
sir, if I could grow apples like that, I would call myself a gardener. But
it was the singing that went to my heart, if you know what I mean.'
Frodo sat, eating, drinking, and talking with delight; but his mind was
chiefly on the words spoken. He knew a little of the elf-speech and listened
eagerly. Now and again he spoke to those that served him and thanked them in
their own language. They smiled at him and said laughing: 'Here is a jewel
among hobbits!'
After a while Pippin fell fast asleep, and was lifted up and borne away
to a bower under the trees; there he was laid upon a soft bed and slept the
rest of the night away. Sam refused to leave his master. When Pippin had
gone, he came and sat curled up at Frodo's feet, where at last he nodded and
closed his eyes. Frodo remained long awake, talking with Gildor.
They spoke of many things, old and new, and Frodo questioned Gildor
much about happenings in the wide world outside the Shire. The tidings were
mostly sad and ominous: of gathering darkness, the wars of Men, and the
flight of the Elves. At last Frodo asked the question that was nearest to
his heart:
'Tell me, Gildor, have you ever seen Bilbo since he left us?'
Gildor smiled. 'Yes,' he answered. 'Twice. He said farewell to us on
this very spot. But I saw him once again, far from here.' He would say no
more about Bilbo, and Frodo fell silent.
'You do not ask me or tell me much that concerns yourself, Frodo,' said
Gildor. 'But I already know a little, and I can read more in your face and
in the thought behind your questions. You are leaving the Shire, and yet you
doubt that you will find what you seek, or accomplish what you intend, or
that you will ever return. Is not that so?'
'It is,' said Frodo; 'but I thought my going was a secret known only to
Gandalf and my faithful Sam.' He looked down at Sam, who was snoring gently.
'The secret will not reach the Enemy from us,' said Gildor.
'The Enemy?' said Frodo. 'Then you know why I am leaving the Shire?'
'I do not know for what reason the Enemy is pursuing you,' answered
Gildor; 'but I perceive that he is - strange indeed though that seems to me.
And I warn you that peril is now both before you and behind you, and upon
either side.'
'You mean the Riders? I feared that they were servants of the Enemy.
What are the Black Riders?'
'Has Gandalf told you nothing?'
'Nothing about such creatures.'
'Then I think it is not for me to say more - lest terror should keep
you from your journey. For it seems to me that you have set out only just in
time, if indeed you are in time. You must now make haste, and neither stay
nor turn back; for the Shire is no longer any protection to you.'
'I cannot imagine what information could be more terrifying than your
hints and warnings,' exclaimed Frodo. 'I knew that danger lay ahead, of
course; but I did not expect to meet it in our own Shire. Can't a hobbit
walk from the Water to the River in peace?'
'But it is not your own Shire,' said Gildor. 'Others dwelt here before
hobbits were; and others will dwell here again when hobbits are no more. The
wide world is all about you: you can fence yourselves in, but you cannot for
ever fence it out.'
'I know - and yet it has always seemed so safe and familiar. What can I
do now? My plan was to leave the Shire secretly, and make my way to
Rivendell; but now my footsteps are dogged, before ever I get to Buckland.'
'I think you should still follow that plan,' said Gildor. 'I do not
think the Road will prove too hard for your courage. But if you desire
clearer counsel, you should ask Gandalf. I do not know the reason for your
flight, and therefore I do not know by what means your pursuers will assail
you. These things Gandalf must know. I suppose that you will see him before
you leave the Shire?'
'I hope so. But that is another thing that makes me anxious. I have
been expecting Gandalf for many days. He was to have come to Hobbiton at the
latest two nights ago; but he has never appeared. Now I am wondering what
can have happened. Should I wait for him?'
Gildor was silent for a moment. 'I do not like this news,' he said at
last. 'That Gandalf should be late, does not bode well. But it is said: Do
not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to
anger. The choice is yours: to go or wait.'
'And it is also said,' answered Frodo: 'Go not to the Elves for
counsel, for they will say both no and yes.'
'Is it indeed?' laughed Gildor. 'Elves seldom give unguarded advice,
for advice is a dangerous gift, even from the wise to the wise, and all
courses may run ill. But what would you? You have not told me all concerning
yourself; and how then shall I choose better than you? But if you demand
advice, I will for friendship's sake give it. I think you should now go at
once, without delay; and if Gandalf does not come before you set out, then I
also advise this: do not go alone. Take such friends as are trusty and
willing. Now you should be grateful, for I do not give this counsel gladly.
The Elves have their own labours and their own sorrows, and they are little
concerned with the ways of hobbits, or of any other creatures upon earth.
Our paths cross theirs seldom, by chance or purpose. In this meeting there
may be more than chance; but the purpose is not clear to me, and I fear to
say too much.'
'I am deeply grateful,' said Frodo; 'but I wish you would tell me
plainly what the Black Riders are. If I take your advice I may not see
Gandalf for a long while, and I ought to know what is the danger that
pursues me.'
'Is it not enough to know that they are servants of the Enemy?'
answered Gildor. 'Flee them! Speak no words to them! They are deadly. Ask no
more of me! But my heart forbodes that, ere all is ended, you, Frodo son of
Drogo, will know more of these fell things than Gildor Inglorion. May
Elbereth protect you!'
'But where shall I find courage?' asked Frodo. 'That is what I chiefly
need.'
'Courage is found in unlikely places,' said Gildor. 'Be of good hope!
Sleep now! In the morning we shall have gone; but we will send our messages
through the lands. The Wandering Companies shall know of your journey, and
those that have power for good shall be on the watch. I name you Elf-friend;
and may the stars shine upon the end of your road! Seldom have we had such
delight in strangers, and it is fair to hear words of the Ancient Speech
from the lips of other wanderers in the world.'
Frodo felt sleep coming upon him, even as Gildor finished speaking. 'I
will sleep now,' he said; and the Elf led him to a bower beside Pippin, and
he threw himself upon a bed and fell at once into a dreamless slumber.
Chapter 4. A Short Cut to Mushrooms
In the morning Frodo woke refreshed. He was lying in a bower made by a
living tree with branches laced and drooping to the ground; his bed was of
fern and grass, deep and soft and strangely fragrant. The sun was shining
through the fluttering leaves, which were still green upon the tree. He
jumped up and went out.
Sam was sitting on the grass near the edge of the wood. Pippin was
standing studying the sky and weather. There was no sign of the Elves.
'They have left us fruit and drink, and bread,' said Pippin. 'Come and
have your breakfast. The bread tastes almost as good as it did last night. I
did not want to leave you any, but Sam insisted.'
Frodo sat down beside Sam and began to eat. 'What is the plan for
today?' asked Pippin.
'To walk to Bucklebury as quickly as possible,' answered Frodo, and
gave his attention to the food.
'Do you think we shall see anything of those Riders?' asked Pippin
cheerfully. Under the morning sun the prospect of seeing a whole troop of
them did not seem very alarming to him.
'Yes, probably,' said Frodo, not liking the reminder. 'But I hope to
get across the river without their seeing us.'
'Did you find out anything about them from Gildor?'
'Not much - only hints and riddles,' said Frodo evasively. 'Did you ask
about the sniffing?'
'We didn't discuss it,' said Frodo with his mouth full.
'You should have. I am sure it is very important.'
'In that case I am sure Gildor would have refused to explain it,' said
Frodo sharply. 'And now leave me in peace for a bit! I don't want to answer
a string of questions while I am eating. I want to think!'
'Good heavens!' said Pippin. 'At breakfast?' He walked away towards the
edge of the green.
From Frodo's mind the bright morning - treacherously bright, he thought
- had not banished the fear of pursuit; and he pondered the words of Gildor.
The merry voice of Pippin came to him. He was running on the green turf and
singing.
'No! I could not!' he said to himself. 'It is one thing to take my
young friends walking over the Shire with me, until we are hungry and weary,
and food and bed are sweet. To take them into exile, where hunger and
weariness may have no cure, is quite another - even if they are willing to
come. The inheritance is mine alone. I don't think I ought even to take
Sam.' He looked at Sam Gamgee, and discovered that Sam was watching him.
'Well, Sam!' he said. 'What about it? I am leaving the Shire as soon as
ever I can - in fact I have made up my mind now not even to wait a day at
Crickhollow, if it can be helped.'
'Very good, sir!'
'You still mean to come with me?'
'I do.'
'It is going to be very dangerous, Sam. 'It is already dangerous. Most
likely neither of us will come back.'
'If you don't come back, sir, then I shan't, that's certain,' said Sam.
'Don't you leave him! they said to me. Leave him! I said. I never mean to. I
am going with him, if he climbs to the Moon, and if any of those Black
Rulers try to stop him, they'll have Sam Gamgee to reckon with, I said. They
laughed.'
'Who are they, and what are you talking about?'
'The Elves, sir. We had some talk last night; and they seemed to know
you were going away, so I didn't see the use of denying it. Wonderful folk,
Elves, sir! Wonderful!'
'They are,' said Frodo. 'Do you like them still, now you have had a
closer view?'
'They seem a bit above my likes and dislikes, so to speak,' answered
Sam slowly. 'It don't seem to matter what I think about them. They are quite
different from what I expected - so old and young, and so gay and sad, as it
were.'
Frodo looked at Sam rather startled, half expecting to see some outward
sign of the odd change that seemed to have come over him. It did not sound
like the voice of the old Sam Gamgee that he thought he knew. But it looked
like the old Sam Gamgee sitting there, except that his face was unusually
thoughtful.
'Do you feel any need to leave the Shire now - now that your wish to
see them has come true already?' he asked.
'Yes, sir. I don't know how to say it, but after last night I feel
different. I seem to see ahead, in a kind of way. I know we are going to
take a very long road, into darkness; but I know I can't turn back. It isn't
to see Elves now, nor dragons, nor mountains, that I want - I don't rightly
know what I want: but I have something to do before the end, and it lies
ahead, not in the Shire. I must see it through, sir, if you understand me.'
'I don't altogether. But I understand that Gandalf chose me a good
companion. I am content. We will go together.'
Frodo finished his breakfast in silence. Then standing up he looked
over the land ahead, and called to Pippin.
'All ready to start?' he said as Pippin ran up. 'We must be getting off
at once. We slept late; and there are a good many miles to go.'
'You slept late, you mean,' said Pippin. 'I was up long before; and we
are only waiting for you to finish eating and thinking.'
'I have finished both now. And I am going to make for Bucklebury Ferry
as quickly as possible. I am not going out of the way, back to the road we
left last night: I am going to cut straight across country from here.'
'Then you are going to fly,' said Pippin. 'You won't cut straight on
foot anywhere in this country.'
'We can cut straighter than the road anyway,' answered Frodo. 'The
Ferry is east from Woodhall; but the hard road curves away to the left -you
can see a bend of it away north over there. It goes round the north end of
the Marish so as to strike the causeway from the Bridge above Stock. But
that is miles out of the way. We could save a quarter of the distance if we
made a line for the Ferry from where we stand.'
'Short cuts make long delays,' argued Pippin. 'The country is rough
round here, and there are bogs and all kinds of difficulties down in the
Marish -I know the land in these parts. And if you are worrying about Black
Riders, I can't see that it is any worse meeting them on a road than in a
wood or a field.'
'It is less easy to find people in the woods and fields,' answered
Frodo. 'And if you are supposed to be on the road, there is some chance that
you will be looked for on the road and not off it.'
'All right!' said Pippin. 'I will follow you into every bog and ditch.
But it is hard! I had counted on passing the Golden Perch at Stock before
sundown. The best beer in the Eastfarthing, or used to be: it is a long time
since I tasted it.'
'That settles it!' said Frodo. 'Short cuts make delays, but inns make
longer ones. At all costs we must keep you away from the Golden Perch. We
want to get to Bucklebury before dark. What do you say, Sam?'
'I will go along with you, Mr. Frodo,' said Sam (in spite of private
misgiving and a deep regret for the best beer in the Eastfarthing).
'Then if we are going to toil through bog and briar, let's go now!'
said Pippin.
It was already nearly as hot as it had been the day before; but clouds
were beginning to come up from the West. It looked likely to turn to rain.
The hobbits scrambled down a steep green bank and plunged into the thick
trees below. Their course had been chosen to leave Woodhall to their left,
and to cut slanting through the woods that clustered along the eastern side
of the hills, until they reached the flats beyond. Then they could make
straight for the Ferry over country that was open, except for a few ditches
and fences. Frodo reckoned they had eighteen miles to go in a straight line.
He soon found that the thicket was closer and more tangled than it had
appeared. There were no paths in the undergrowth, and they did not get on
very fast. When they had struggled to the bottom of the bank, they found a
stream running down from the hills behind in a deeply dug bed with steep
slippery sides overhung with brambles. Most inconveniently it cut across the
line they had chosen. They could not jump over it, nor indeed get across it
at all without getting wet, scratched, and muddy. They halted, wondering
what to do. 'First check!' said Pippin, smiling grimly.
Sam Gamgee looked back. Through an opening in the trees he caught a
glimpse of the top of the green bank from which they had climbed down.
'Look!' he said, clutching Frodo by the arm. They all looked, and on
the edge high above them they saw against the sky a horse standing. Beside
it stooped a black figure.
They at once gave up any idea of going back. Frodo led the way, and
plunged quickly into the thick bushes beside the stream. 'Whew!' he said to
Pippin. 'We were both right! The short cut has gone crooked already; but we
got under cover only just in time. You've got sharp ears, Sam: can you hear
anything coming?'
They stood still, almost holding their breath as they listened; but
there was no sound of pursuit. 'I don't fancy he would try bringing his
horse down that bank,' said Sam. 'But I guess he knows we came down it. We
had better be going on.'
Going on was not altogether easy. They had packs to carry, and the
bushes and brambles were reluctant to let them through. They were cut off
from the wind by the ridge behind, and the air was still and stuffy. When
they forced their way at last into more open ground, they were hot and tired
and very scratched, and they were also no longer certain of the direction in
which they were going. The banks of the stream sank, as it reached the
levels and became broader and shallower, wandering off towards the Marish
and the River.
'Why, this is the Stock-brook!' said Pippin. 'If we are going to try
and get back on to our course, we must cross at once and bear right.'
They waded the stream, and hurried over a wide open space, rush-grown
and treeless, on the further side. Beyond that they came again to a belt of
trees: tall oaks, for the most part, with here and there an elm tree or an
ash. The ground was fairly level, and there was little undergrowth; but the
trees were loo close for them to see far ahead. The leaves blew upwards in
sudden gusts of wind, and spots of rain began to fall from the overcast sky.
Then the wind died away and the rain came streaming down. They trudged along
as fast as they could, over patches of grass, and through thick drifts of
old leaves; and all about them the rain pattered and trickled. They did not
talk, but kept glancing back, and from side to side.
After half an hour Pippin said: 'I hope we have not turned too much
towards the south, and are not walking longwise through this wood! It is not
a very broad belt --I should have said no more than a mile at the widest -
and we ought to have been through it by now.'
'It is no good our starting to go in zig-zags,' said Frodo. 'That won't
mend matters. Let us keep on as we are going! I am not sure that I want to
come out into the open yet.'
They went on for perhaps another couple of miles. Then the sun gleamed
out of ragged clouds again and the rain lessened. It was now past mid-day,
and they felt it was high time for lunch. They halted under an elm tree: its
leaves though fast turning yellow were still thick, and the ground at its
feel was fairly dry and sheltered. When they came to make their meal, they
found that the Elves had filled their bottles with a clear drink, pale
golden in colour: it had the scent of a honey made of many flowers, and was
wonderfully refreshing. Very soon they were laughing, and snapping their
fingers at rain, and at Black Riders. The last few miles, they felt, would
soon be behind them.
Frodo propped his back against the tree-trunk, and closed his eyes. Sam
and Pippin sat near, and they began to hum, and then to sing softly:
Ho! Ho! Ho! to the bottle I go
To heal my heart and drown my woe.
Rain may fall and wind may blow,
And many miles be still to go,
But under a tall tree I will lie,
And let the clouds go sailing by.
Ho! Ho! Ho! they began again louder. They stopped short suddenly. Frodo
sprang to his feet. A long-drawn wail came down the wind, like the cry of
some evil and lonely creature. It rose and fell, and ended on a high
piercing note. Even as they sat and stood, as if suddenly frozen, it was
answered by another cry, fainter and further off, but no less chilling to
the blood. There was then a silence, broken only by the sound of the wind in
the leaves.
'And what do you think that was?' Pippin asked at last, trying to speak
lightly, but quavering a little. 'If it was a bird, it was one that I never
heard in the Shire before.'
'It was not bird or beast,' said Frodo. 'It was a call, or a signal --
there were words in that cry, though I could not catch them. But no hobbit
has such a voice.'
No more was said about it. They were all thinking of the Riders, but no
one spoke of them. They were now reluctant either to stay or go on; but
sooner or later they had got to get across the open country to the Ferry,
and it was best to go sooner and in daylight. In a few moments they had
shouldered their packs again and were off.
Before long the wood came to a sudden end. Wide grass-lands stretched
before them. They now saw that they had, in fact, turned too much to the
south. Away over the flats they could glimpse the low hill of Bucklebury
across the River, but it was now to their left. Creeping cautiously out from
the edge of the trees, they set off across the open as quickly as they
could.
At first they felt afraid, away from the shelter of the wood. Far back
behind them stood the high place where they had breakfasted. Frodo half
expected to see the small distant figure of a horseman on the ridge dark
against the sky; but there was no sign of one. The sun escaping from the
breaking clouds, as it sank towards the hills they had left, was now shining
brightly again. Their fear left them, though they still felt uneasy. But the
land became steadily more tame and well-ordered. Soon they came into
well-tended fields and meadows: there were hedges and gates and dikes for
drainage. Everything seemed quiet and peaceful, just an ordinary corner of
the Shire. Their spirits rose with every step. The line of the River grew
nearer; and the Black Riders began to seem like phantoms of the woods now
left far behind.
They passed along the edge of a huge turnip-field, and came to a stout
gate. Beyond it a rutted lane ran between low well-laid hedges towards a
distant clump of trees. Pippin stopped.
'I know these fields and this gate!' he said. 'This is Bamfurlong, old
Farmer Maggot's land. That's his farm away there in the trees.'
'One trouble after another!' said Frodo, looking nearly as much alarmed
as if Pippin had declared the lane was the slot leading to a dragon's den.
The others looked at him in surprise.
'What's wrong with old Maggot?' asked Pippin. 'He's a good friend to
all the Brandy bucks. Of course he's a terror to trespassers, and keeps
ferocious dogs - but after all, folk down here are near the border and have
to be more on their guard.'
'I know,' said Frodo. 'But all the same,' he added with a shamefaced
laugh, 'I am terrified of him and his dogs. I have avoided his farm for
years and years. He caught me several times trespassing after mushrooms,
when I was a youngster at Brandy Hall. On the last occasion he beat me, and
then took me and showed me to his dogs. "See, lads," he said, "next time
this young varmint sets foot on my land, you can eat him. Now see him off!"
They chased me all the way to the Ferry. I have never got over the fright -
though I daresay the beasts knew their business and would not really have
touched me.'
Pippin laughed. 'Well, it's time you made it up. Especially if you are
coming back to live in Buckland. Old Maggot is really a stout fellow - if
you leave his mushrooms alone. Let's get into the lane and then we shan't be
trespassing. If we meet him, I'll do the talking. He is a friend of Merry's,
and I used to come here with him a good deal at one time.'
They went along the lane, until they saw the thatched roofs of a large
house and farm-buildings peeping out among the trees ahead. The Maggots, and
the Puddifoots of Stock, and most of the inhabitants of the Marish, were
house-dwellers; and this farm was stoutly built of brick and had a high wall
all round it. There was a wide wooden gate opening out of the wall into the
lane.
Suddenly as they drew nearer a terrific baying and barking broke out,
and a loud voice was heard shouting: 'Grip! Fang! Wolf! Come on, lads!'
Frodo and Sam stopped dead, but Pippin walked on a few paces. The gate
opened and three huge dogs came pelting out into the lane, and dashed
towards the travellers, barking fiercely. They took no notice of Pippin; but
Sam shrank against the wall, while two wolvish-looking dogs sniffed at him
suspiciously, and snarled if he moved. The largest and most ferocious of the
three halted in front of Frodo, bristling and growling.
Through the gate there now appeared a broad thick-set hobbit with a
round red face. 'Hallo! Hallo! And who may you be, and what may you be
wanting?' he asked.
'Good afternoon, Mr. Maggot!' said Pippin.
The farmer looked at him closely. 'Well, if it isn't Master Pippin -
Mr. Peregrin Took, I should say!' he cried, changing from a scowl to a grin.
'It's a long time since I saw you round here. It's lucky for you that I know
you. I was just going out to set my dogs on any strangers. There are some
funny things going on today. Of course, we do get queer folk wandering in
these parts at times. Too near the River,' he said, shaking his head. 'But
this fellow was the most outlandish I have ever set eyes on. He won't cross
my land without leave a second time, not if I can stop it.'
'What fellow do you mean?' asked Pippin.
'Then you haven't seen him?' said the farmer. 'He went up the lane
towards the causeway not a long while back. He was a funny customer and
asking funny questions. But perhaps you'll come along inside, and we'll pass
the news more comfortable. I've a drop of good ale on tap, if you and your
friends are willing, Mr. Took.'
It seemed plain that the farmer would tell them more, if allowed to do
it in his own time and fashion, so they all accepted the invitation. 'What
about the dogs?' asked Frodo anxiously.
The farmer laughed. 'They won't harm you - not unless I tell 'em to.
Here, Grip! Fang! Heel!' he cried. 'Heel, Wolf!' To the relief of Frodo and
Sam, the dogs walked away and let them go free.
Pippin introduced the other two to the farmer. 'Mr. Frodo Baggins,' he
said. 'You may not remember him, but he used to live at Brandy Hall.' At the
name Baggins the farmer started, and gave Frodo a sharp glance. For a moment
Frodo thought that the memory of stolen mushrooms had been aroused, and that
the dogs would be told to see him off. But Farmer Maggot took him by the
arm.
'Well, if that isn't queerer than ever?' he exclaimed. 'Mr. Baggins is
it? Come inside! We must have a talk.'
They went into the farmer's kitchen, and sat by the wide fire-place.
Mrs. Maggot brought out beer in a huge jug, and filled four large mugs. It
was a good brew, and Pippin found himself more than compensated for missing
the Golden Perch. Sam sipped his beer suspiciously. He had a natural
mistrust of the inhabitants of other parts of the Shire; and also he was not
disposed to be quick friends with anyone who had beaten his master, however
long ago.
After a few remarks about the weather and the agricultural prospects
(which were no worse than usual), Farmer Maggot put down his mug and looked
at them all in turn.
'Now, Mr. Peregrin,' he said, 'where might you be coming from, and
where might you be going to? Were you coming to visit' me? For, if so, you
had gone past my gate without my seeing you.'
'Well, no,' answered Pippin. 'To tell you the truth, since you have
guessed it, we got into the lane from the other end: we had come over your
fields. But that was quite by accident. We lost our way in the woods, back
near Woodhall, trying to take a short cut to the Ferry.'
'If you were in a hurry, the road would have served you better,' said
the farmer. 'But I wasn't worrying about that. You have leave to walk over
my land, if you have a mind, Mr. Peregrin. And you, Mr. Baggins - though I
daresay you still like mushrooms.' He laughed. 'Ah yes, I recognized the
name. I recollect the time when young Frodo Baggins was one of the worst
young rascals of Buckland. But it wasn't mushrooms I was thinking of. I had
just heard the name Baggins before you turned up. What do you think that
funny customer asked me?'
They waited anxiously for him to go on. 'Well,' the farmer continued,
approaching his point with slow relish, 'he came riding on a big black horse
in at the gate, which happened to be open, and right up to my door. All
black he was himself, too, and cloaked and hooded up, as if he did not want
to be known. "Now what in the Shire can he want?" I thought to myself. We
don't see many of the Big Folk over the border; and anyway I had never heard
of any like this black fellow.
' "Good-day to you!" I says, going out to him. "This lane don't lead
anywhere, and wherever you may be going, your quickest way will be back to
the road." I didn't like the looks of him; and when Grip came out, he took
one sniff and let out a yelp as if he had been slung: he put down his tail
and bolted off howling. The black fellow sat quite still.
' "I come from yonder," he said, slow and stiff-like, pointing back
west, over my fields, if you please. "Have you seen Baggins?" he asked in a
queer voice, and bent down towards me. I could not see any face, for his
hood fell down so low; and I felt a sort of shiver down my back. But I did
not see why he should come riding over my land so bold.
' "Be off!" I said. "There are no Bagginses here. You're in the wrong
part of the Shire. You had better go back west to Hobbiton - but you can go
by road this time."
' "Baggins has left," he answered in a whisper. "He is coming. He is
not far away. I wish to find him. If he passes will you tell me? I will come
back with gold."
' "No you won't," I said. "You'll go back where you belong, double
quick. I give you one minute before I call all my dogs."
'He gave a sort of hiss. It might have been laughing, and it might not.
Then he spurred his great horse right at me, and I jumped out of the way
only just in time. I called the dogs, but he swung off, and rode through the
gate and up the lane towards the causeway like a bolt of thunder. What do
you think of that?'
Frodo sat for a moment looking at the fire, but his only thought was
how on earth would they reach the Ferry. 'I don't know what to think,' he
said at last.
'Then I'll tell you what to think,' said Maggot. 'You should never have
gone mixing yourself up with Hobbiton folk, Mr. Frodo. Folk are queer up
there.' Sam stirred in his chair, and looked at the farmer with an
unfriendly eye. 'But you were always a reckless lad. When I heard you had
left the Brandybucks and gone off to that old Mr. Bilbo, I said that you
were going to find trouble. Mark my words, this all comes of those strange
doings of Mr. Bilbo's. His money was got in some strange fashion in foreign
parts, they say. Maybe there is some that want to know what has become of
the gold and jewels that he buried in the hill of Hobbiton, as I hear?'
Frodo said nothing: the shrewd guesses of the farmer were rather
disconcerting.
'Well, Mr. Frodo,' Maggot went on, 'I'm glad that you've had the sense
to come back to Buckland. My advice is: stay there! And don't get mixed up
with these outlandish folk. You'll have friends in these parts. If any of
these black fellows come after you again, I'll deal with them. I'll say
you're dead, or have left the Shire, or anything you like. And that might be
true enough; for as like as not it is old Mr. Bilbo they want news of.'
'Maybe you're right,' said Frodo, avoiding the farmer's eye and staring
at the fire.
Maggot looked at him thoughtfully. 'Well, I see you have ideas of your
own,' he said. 'It is as plain as my nose that no accident brought you and
that rider here on the same afternoon; and maybe my news was no great news
to you, after all. I am not asking you to tell me anything you have a mind
to keep to yourself; but I see you are in some kind of trouble. Perhaps you
are thinking it won't be too easy to get to the Ferry without being caught?'
'I was thinking so,' said Frodo. 'But we have got to try and get there;
and it won't be done by sitting and thinking. So I am afraid we must be
going. Thank you very much indeed for your kindness! I've been in terror of
you and your dogs for over thirty years, Farmer Maggot, though you may laugh
to hear it. It's a pity: for I've missed a good friend. And now I'm sorry to
leave so soon. But I'll come back, perhaps, one day - if I get a chance.'
'You'll be welcome when you come,' said Maggot. 'But now I've a notion.
It's near sundown already, and we are going to have our supper; for we
mostly go to bed soon after the Sun. If you and Mr. Peregrin and all could
stay and have a bite with us, we would be pleased!'
'And so should we!' said Frodo. 'But we must be going at once, I'm
afraid. Even now it will be dark before we can reach the Ferry.'
'Ah! but wait a minute! I was going to say: after a bit of supper, I'll
gel out a small waggon, and I'll drive you all to the Ferry. That will save
you a good step, and it might also save you trouble of another sort.'
Frodo now accepted the invitation gratefully, to the relief of Pippin
and Sam. The sun was already behind the western hills, and the light was
failing. Two of Maggot's sons and his three daughters came in, and a
generous supper was laid on the large table. The kitchen was lit with
candles and the fire was mended. Mrs. Maggot hustled in and out. One or two
other hobbits belonging to the farm-household came in. In a short while
fourteen sat down to eat. There was beer in plenty, and a mighty dish of
mushrooms and bacon, besides much other solid farmhouse fare. The dogs lay
by the fire and gnawed rinds and cracked bones.
When they had finished, the f...
