(C) The Lord of the rings
#middleearthinspired #tolkieninspired
‘You ought to go quietly, and you ought to go soon,’ said Gandalf. Two or three weeks had passed, and still Frodo made no sign of getting ready to go.
‘I know. But ’ he objected. ‘If I just vanish like Bilbo, the tale will be all over the Shire in
no time. What about the autumn, on or after Our Birthday?’ asked Frodo. ‘I think I could probably make some arrangements by then.’
'you must go, or at least set out, either North, South, West or East — and the direction should
certainly not be known.’
‘where am I to go? What is to be my quest? Bilbo went to find a treasure, there and back again; but I go to lose one, and not return, as far as I can see.’
‘But you cannot see very far,’ said Gandalf. ‘Neither can I. It may be your task to find the
Cracks of Doom; but that quest may be for others: I do not know. At any rate you are not ready
for that long road yet.’
‘No indeed!’ said Frodo. ‘But in the meantime what course am I to take?’
‘If you want my advice, make for Rivendell. That journey should not prove too perilous.
‘Rivendell!’ said Frodo. ‘Very good: I will go east, and I will make for Rivendell. I will take Sam to visit the Elves; he will be delighted.’ He spoke lightly; but his heart was moved suddenly with a desire to see the house of Elrond Halfelven, and breathe the air of that deep valley where many of the Fair Folk still dwelt in peace.
One summer’s evening an astonishing piece of news reached the Ivy Bush and Green Dragon. Mr. Frodo was selling Bag End, indeed he had already sold it — to the Sackville-Bagginses!
Frodo Baggins was going back to Buckland. As a matter of fact with Merry’s help he had already chosen and bought a little house at Crickhollow in the country beyond Bucklebury. Buckland was on the eastern borders of the Shire, and as he had lived there in childhood his going back would at least seem credible.
It had been officially announced that Sam was coming to Buckland ‘to do for Mr. Frodo and look after his bit of garden’; an arrangement that was approved by the Gaffer.
Wizard went off at dawn. ‘I may be back any day,’ he said.' stick to your plan; but Let me impress on you once more: don’t use the ring! At the very latest I shall come back for the farewell party. ’
The Birthday, and the removal, drew nearer. Bag End began to be busy. Some of Frodo’s friends came to stay and help him with the packing: there was Fredegar Bolger and Folco Boffin, and of course his special friends Pippin Took and Merry Brandybuck.
Frodo became really anxious, and kept a constant look-out for Gandalf. In the evening Frodo gave his farewell feast: it was quite small, just a dinner for himself and his four helpers. Then they went out for a sniff of air, and glimpse of the stars, and then they went to bed. Frodo’s party was over, and Gandalf had not come.
The next morning they were busy packing another cart with the remainder of the luggage. Merry
took charge of this, and drove off with Fatty (that is Fredegar Bolger). ‘Well, see you later — the day after tomorrow, if you don’t go to sleep on the way!’
Frodo decided to wait until nightfall. After that, if Gandalf wanted him urgently, he would go to
Crickhollow, and might even get there first. For Frodo was going on foot. His plan — for pleasure and a last look at the Shire as much as any other reason — was to walk from Hobbiton to Bucklebury Ferry.
‘I shall get myself a bit into training, too,’ he said, looking at himself in a dusty mirror in the half-empty hall. the reflection looked rather flabby, he thought.
The sky was clear and the stars were growing bright. ‘It’s going to be a fine night,’ Frodo said aloud. ‘That’s good for a beginning. I feel like walking. I can’t bear any more hanging about. I am going to start, and Gandalf must follow me.’ He turned to go back, and then stopped, for he heard voices, just round the corner by the end of Bagshot Row. One voice was certainly the old Gaffer’s; the other was strange, and somehow unpleasant.
‘No, Mr. Baggins has gone away. Went this morning, and my Sam went with him: anyway all his stuff went. Yes, sold out and gone, I tell’ee. Why? Why’s none of my business, or yours. Where to? That ain’t no secret. He’s moved to Bucklebury or some such place, away down yonder. Yes it is — a tidy way. I’ve never been so far myself; they’re queer folks in Buckland. No, I can’t give no message. Good night to you!’
Frodo turned and walked quickly back to Bag End. Pippin was sitting on his pack in the porch.
We are not going through the village tonight. Too many ears pricking and eyes prying.’ They
shouldered their packs and took up their sticks, and walked round the corner to the west side of Bag End. ‘Good-bye!’ said Frodo, looking at the dark blank windows. He waved his hand, and then turned and (following Bilbo, if he had known it) hurried after Peregrin down the garden-path. They jumped over the low place in the hedge at the bottom and took to the fields, passing into the darkness like a rustle in the grasses.
Sam appeared, trotting quickly and breathing hard; his heavy pack was hoisted high on his shoulders, and he had put on his head a tall shapeless felt bag, which he called a hat. In the gloom he looked very much like a dwarf.
‘well, let’s put some miles behind us before bed.’
In their dark cloaks they were as invisible as if they all had magic rings. Even the wild things in the fields and woods hardly noticed their passing.
Pippin began to lag behind. At last, as they began to climb a steep slope, he stopped and yawned.‘I am so sleepy,’ he said, ‘that soon I shall fall down on the road. Are you going to sleep on your legs? It is nearly midnight.’
Leaving the road they went into the deep resin-scented darkness of the trees, and gathered dead sticks and cones to make a fire. Soon they had a merry crackle of flame at the foot of a large fir-tree and they sat round it for a while, until they began to nod. Then, each in an angle of the great tree’s roots, they curled up in their cloaks and blankets, and were soon fast asleep.
They set no watch; even Frodo feared no danger yet, for they were still in the heart of the Shire. A few creatures came and looked at them when the fire had died away. A fox passing through the wood on business of his own stopped several minutes and sniffed.
The morning came, pale and clammy. Frodo woke up first, and found that a tree-root had made a hole in his back, and that his neck was stiff. ‘Walking for pleasure! Why didn’t I drive?’ he thought, as he usually did at the beginning of an expedition.He stretched. ‘Wake up, hobbits!’ he cried. ‘It’s a beautiful morning.’
There was a stream at the foot of the hill. They filled their bottles and the small camping kettle at a little fall where the water fell a few feet over an outcrop of grey stone. It was icy cold; and they spluttered and puffed as they bathed their faces and hands.
So far they had not met a soul on the road. This way was not much used, being hardly fit for carts, and there was little traffic to the Woody End. Sam stopped a moment as if listening.
‘I can hear a pony or a horse coming along the road behind,’ said Sam.
a sudden desire to hide from the view of the rider came over Frodo.
‘It may not matter much,’ he said apologetically, ‘but I would rather not be seen on the road — by anyone. I am sick of my doings being noticed and discussed. And if it is Gandalf,’ he added as an afterthought, ‘we can give him a little surprise, to pay him out for being so late. Let’s get out of sight!’
The sound of hoofs drew nearer. Just in time he threw himself down in a patch of long grass behind a tree that overshadowed the road. Then he lifted his head and peered cautiously above one of the great roots. Round the corner came a black horse, no hobbit-pony but a full-sized horse; and on it sat a large man, who seemed to crouch in the saddle, wrapped in a great black cloak and hood, so that only his boots in the high stirrups showed below; his face was shadowed and invisible.
When it reached the tree and was level with Frodo the horse stopped. The riding figure sat quite still with its head bowed, as if listening. From inside the hood came a noise as of someone sniffing to catch an elusive scent; the head turned from side to side of the road.
A sudden unreasoning fear of discovery laid hold of Frodo, and he thought of his Ring. He hardly dared to breathe, and yet the desire to get it out of his pocket became so strong that he began slowly to move his hand. He felt that he had only to slip it on, and then he would be safe. The advice of Gandalf seemed absurd. Bilbo had used the Ring. ‘And I am still in the Shire,’ he thought, as his hand touched the chain on which it hung. At that moment the rider sat up, and shook the reins. The horse stepped forward, walking slowly at first, and then breaking into a quick trot.
Pippin and Sam had remained flat in the grass, and had seen nothing; so Frodo described the rider and his strange behaviour.
‘Begging your pardon,’ put in Sam suddenly, ‘I know where he comes from. It’s from Hobbiton that this here black rider comes, unless there’s more than one. And I know where he’s going to. when I got back to our hole yesterday evening with the key, my dad, he says to me: Hallo, Sam! There’s been a strange customer asking for Mr. Baggins of Bag End, and he’s only just gone. I’ve sent him on to Bucklebury.
‘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.’
‘Hush!’ said Frodo. ‘I think I hear hoofs again.’
Quickly and quietly they slipped off the path, and ran into the deeper shade under the oak-trees.
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!’
‘Listen! They are coming this way,’ said Frodo. ‘We have only to wait.’
The singing drew nearer. ‘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!’
They passed slowly, and the hobbits could see the starlight glimmering on their hair and in their eyes. 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. I am Gildor, Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finrod.’
‘how do you know my name?’ asked Frodo.
‘We know many things,’ they said. ‘We have seen you often before with Bilbo, though you may not have seen us.’
‘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 take 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 sila lumenn’ 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.
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 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 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!’
Frodo remained long awake, talking with Gildor.
You do not ask me or tell me much that concerns yourself, Frodo,’ said Gildor.
I thought my going was a secret known only to Gandalf and my faithful Sam.’
‘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. But if you desire clearer counsel, you should ask Gandalf.
'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.
'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. '
‘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.’
#middleearthinspired #tolkieninspired
‘You ought to go quietly, and you ought to go soon,’ said Gandalf. Two or three weeks had passed, and still Frodo made no sign of getting ready to go.
‘I know. But ’ he objected. ‘If I just vanish like Bilbo, the tale will be all over the Shire in
no time. What about the autumn, on or after Our Birthday?’ asked Frodo. ‘I think I could probably make some arrangements by then.’
'you must go, or at least set out, either North, South, West or East — and the direction should
certainly not be known.’
‘where am I to go? What is to be my quest? Bilbo went to find a treasure, there and back again; but I go to lose one, and not return, as far as I can see.’
‘But you cannot see very far,’ said Gandalf. ‘Neither can I. It may be your task to find the
Cracks of Doom; but that quest may be for others: I do not know. At any rate you are not ready
for that long road yet.’
‘No indeed!’ said Frodo. ‘But in the meantime what course am I to take?’
‘If you want my advice, make for Rivendell. That journey should not prove too perilous.
‘Rivendell!’ said Frodo. ‘Very good: I will go east, and I will make for Rivendell. I will take Sam to visit the Elves; he will be delighted.’ He spoke lightly; but his heart was moved suddenly with a desire to see the house of Elrond Halfelven, and breathe the air of that deep valley where many of the Fair Folk still dwelt in peace.
One summer’s evening an astonishing piece of news reached the Ivy Bush and Green Dragon. Mr. Frodo was selling Bag End, indeed he had already sold it — to the Sackville-Bagginses!
Frodo Baggins was going back to Buckland. As a matter of fact with Merry’s help he had already chosen and bought a little house at Crickhollow in the country beyond Bucklebury. Buckland was on the eastern borders of the Shire, and as he had lived there in childhood his going back would at least seem credible.
It had been officially announced that Sam was coming to Buckland ‘to do for Mr. Frodo and look after his bit of garden’; an arrangement that was approved by the Gaffer.
Wizard went off at dawn. ‘I may be back any day,’ he said.' stick to your plan; but Let me impress on you once more: don’t use the ring! At the very latest I shall come back for the farewell party. ’
The Birthday, and the removal, drew nearer. Bag End began to be busy. Some of Frodo’s friends came to stay and help him with the packing: there was Fredegar Bolger and Folco Boffin, and of course his special friends Pippin Took and Merry Brandybuck.
Frodo became really anxious, and kept a constant look-out for Gandalf. In the evening Frodo gave his farewell feast: it was quite small, just a dinner for himself and his four helpers. Then they went out for a sniff of air, and glimpse of the stars, and then they went to bed. Frodo’s party was over, and Gandalf had not come.
The next morning they were busy packing another cart with the remainder of the luggage. Merry
took charge of this, and drove off with Fatty (that is Fredegar Bolger). ‘Well, see you later — the day after tomorrow, if you don’t go to sleep on the way!’
Frodo decided to wait until nightfall. After that, if Gandalf wanted him urgently, he would go to
Crickhollow, and might even get there first. For Frodo was going on foot. His plan — for pleasure and a last look at the Shire as much as any other reason — was to walk from Hobbiton to Bucklebury Ferry.
‘I shall get myself a bit into training, too,’ he said, looking at himself in a dusty mirror in the half-empty hall. the reflection looked rather flabby, he thought.
The sky was clear and the stars were growing bright. ‘It’s going to be a fine night,’ Frodo said aloud. ‘That’s good for a beginning. I feel like walking. I can’t bear any more hanging about. I am going to start, and Gandalf must follow me.’ He turned to go back, and then stopped, for he heard voices, just round the corner by the end of Bagshot Row. One voice was certainly the old Gaffer’s; the other was strange, and somehow unpleasant.
‘No, Mr. Baggins has gone away. Went this morning, and my Sam went with him: anyway all his stuff went. Yes, sold out and gone, I tell’ee. Why? Why’s none of my business, or yours. Where to? That ain’t no secret. He’s moved to Bucklebury or some such place, away down yonder. Yes it is — a tidy way. I’ve never been so far myself; they’re queer folks in Buckland. No, I can’t give no message. Good night to you!’
Frodo turned and walked quickly back to Bag End. Pippin was sitting on his pack in the porch.
We are not going through the village tonight. Too many ears pricking and eyes prying.’ They
shouldered their packs and took up their sticks, and walked round the corner to the west side of Bag End. ‘Good-bye!’ said Frodo, looking at the dark blank windows. He waved his hand, and then turned and (following Bilbo, if he had known it) hurried after Peregrin down the garden-path. They jumped over the low place in the hedge at the bottom and took to the fields, passing into the darkness like a rustle in the grasses.
Sam appeared, trotting quickly and breathing hard; his heavy pack was hoisted high on his shoulders, and he had put on his head a tall shapeless felt bag, which he called a hat. In the gloom he looked very much like a dwarf.
‘well, let’s put some miles behind us before bed.’
In their dark cloaks they were as invisible as if they all had magic rings. Even the wild things in the fields and woods hardly noticed their passing.
Pippin began to lag behind. At last, as they began to climb a steep slope, he stopped and yawned.‘I am so sleepy,’ he said, ‘that soon I shall fall down on the road. Are you going to sleep on your legs? It is nearly midnight.’
Leaving the road they went into the deep resin-scented darkness of the trees, and gathered dead sticks and cones to make a fire. Soon they had a merry crackle of flame at the foot of a large fir-tree and they sat round it for a while, until they began to nod. Then, each in an angle of the great tree’s roots, they curled up in their cloaks and blankets, and were soon fast asleep.
They set no watch; even Frodo feared no danger yet, for they were still in the heart of the Shire. A few creatures came and looked at them when the fire had died away. A fox passing through the wood on business of his own stopped several minutes and sniffed.
The morning came, pale and clammy. Frodo woke up first, and found that a tree-root had made a hole in his back, and that his neck was stiff. ‘Walking for pleasure! Why didn’t I drive?’ he thought, as he usually did at the beginning of an expedition.He stretched. ‘Wake up, hobbits!’ he cried. ‘It’s a beautiful morning.’
There was a stream at the foot of the hill. They filled their bottles and the small camping kettle at a little fall where the water fell a few feet over an outcrop of grey stone. It was icy cold; and they spluttered and puffed as they bathed their faces and hands.
So far they had not met a soul on the road. This way was not much used, being hardly fit for carts, and there was little traffic to the Woody End. Sam stopped a moment as if listening.
‘I can hear a pony or a horse coming along the road behind,’ said Sam.
a sudden desire to hide from the view of the rider came over Frodo.
‘It may not matter much,’ he said apologetically, ‘but I would rather not be seen on the road — by anyone. I am sick of my doings being noticed and discussed. And if it is Gandalf,’ he added as an afterthought, ‘we can give him a little surprise, to pay him out for being so late. Let’s get out of sight!’
The sound of hoofs drew nearer. Just in time he threw himself down in a patch of long grass behind a tree that overshadowed the road. Then he lifted his head and peered cautiously above one of the great roots. Round the corner came a black horse, no hobbit-pony but a full-sized horse; and on it sat a large man, who seemed to crouch in the saddle, wrapped in a great black cloak and hood, so that only his boots in the high stirrups showed below; his face was shadowed and invisible.
When it reached the tree and was level with Frodo the horse stopped. The riding figure sat quite still with its head bowed, as if listening. From inside the hood came a noise as of someone sniffing to catch an elusive scent; the head turned from side to side of the road.
A sudden unreasoning fear of discovery laid hold of Frodo, and he thought of his Ring. He hardly dared to breathe, and yet the desire to get it out of his pocket became so strong that he began slowly to move his hand. He felt that he had only to slip it on, and then he would be safe. The advice of Gandalf seemed absurd. Bilbo had used the Ring. ‘And I am still in the Shire,’ he thought, as his hand touched the chain on which it hung. At that moment the rider sat up, and shook the reins. The horse stepped forward, walking slowly at first, and then breaking into a quick trot.
Pippin and Sam had remained flat in the grass, and had seen nothing; so Frodo described the rider and his strange behaviour.
‘Begging your pardon,’ put in Sam suddenly, ‘I know where he comes from. It’s from Hobbiton that this here black rider comes, unless there’s more than one. And I know where he’s going to. when I got back to our hole yesterday evening with the key, my dad, he says to me: Hallo, Sam! There’s been a strange customer asking for Mr. Baggins of Bag End, and he’s only just gone. I’ve sent him on to Bucklebury.
‘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.’
‘Hush!’ said Frodo. ‘I think I hear hoofs again.’
Quickly and quietly they slipped off the path, and ran into the deeper shade under the oak-trees.
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!’
‘Listen! They are coming this way,’ said Frodo. ‘We have only to wait.’
The singing drew nearer. ‘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!’
They passed slowly, and the hobbits could see the starlight glimmering on their hair and in their eyes. 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. I am Gildor, Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finrod.’
‘how do you know my name?’ asked Frodo.
‘We know many things,’ they said. ‘We have seen you often before with Bilbo, though you may not have seen us.’
‘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 take 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 sila lumenn’ 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.
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 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 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!’
Frodo remained long awake, talking with Gildor.
You do not ask me or tell me much that concerns yourself, Frodo,’ said Gildor.
I thought my going was a secret known only to Gandalf and my faithful Sam.’
‘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. But if you desire clearer counsel, you should ask Gandalf.
'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.
'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. '
‘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.’
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