The Hobbit (5 page)

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 worse than ever, and Oin and Gloin began to fight. That settled it. After all we have got a burglar with us, they said; and so they made off, leading their ponies (with all due and proper caution) in the direction of the light. They came to the hill and were soon 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 deal of rustling and crackling and creaking (and a good deal of grumbling and drafting), as they went through the trees in the pitch dark.

Suddenly the red light shone out very bright through the tree-trunks not far ahead. Now it is the burglars turn, they said, meaning Bilbo. You must go on and find out all about that light, and what it is for, and if all is perfectly safe and canny, said Thorin to the hobbit. Now scuttle off, and come back quick, if all is well. If not, come back if you can! It you cant, hoot twice like a barn-owl and once like a screech-owl, and we will do what we can.

Off Bilbo had to go, before he could explain that he could not hoot even once like any kind of owl any more than fly like a bat. But at any rate hobbits can move quietly in woods, absolutely quietly. They take a pride in it, and Bilbo had sniffed more than once at what he called all this dwarvish racket, as they went along, though I dont sup-pose you or I would notice anything at all on a windy night, not if the whole cavalcade had passed two feet off. As for Bilbo walking primly towards the red light, I dont suppose even a weasel would have stirred a whisker at it. So, naturally, he got right up to the fire-for fire it was without disturbing anyone. And this is what he saw. Three very large persons sitting round a very large fire of beech-logs. They were toasting mutton on long spits of wood, and licking the gravy off their fingers. There was a fine toothsome smell. Also there was a barrel of good drink at hand, and they were drinking out of jugs. But they were trolls.

Obviously trolls. Even Bilbo, in spite of his sheltered life, could see that:

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 dont look like mutton again tomorrow, said one of the trolls.

Never a blinking bit of manflesh have we had for long enough, said a second. What the ell William was a-thinkin of to bring us into these parts at all, beats me and the drink runnin short, whats more, he said jogging the elbow of William, who was taking a pull at his jug. William choked. Shut yer mouth! he said as soon as he could. Yer cant expect folk to stop here for ever just to be et by you and Bert. Youve et a village and a half between yer, since we come down from the mountains. How much more dyer want? And times been up our way, when yerd have said thank yer Bill for a nice bit o fat valley mutton like what this is. He took a big bite off a sheeps leg he was toasting, and wiped his lips on his sleeve. Yes, I am afraid trolls do behave like that, even those with only one head each. After hearing all this Bilbo ought to have done something at once. Either he should have gone back quietly and warned his friends that there were three fair-sized trolls at hand in a nasty mood, quite likely to try toasted dwarf, or even pony, for a change; or else he should have done a bit of good quick burgling. A really first-class and legendary burglar would at this point have picked the trolls pockets-it is nearly always worthwhile if you can manage it-, pinched the very mutton off the spite, purloined the beer, and walked off without their noticing him. Others more practical but with less professional pride would perhaps have stuck a dagger into each of them before they observed it. Then the night could have been spent cheerily. Bilbo knew it. He had read of a good many things he had never seen or done. He was very much alarmed, as well as disgusted; he wished himself a hundred miles away, and yet-and yet somehow he could not go straight back to Thorin and Company empty-handed. So he stood and hesitated in the shadows. Of the various burglarious proceedings he had heard of picking the trolls pockets seemed the least difficult, so at last he crept behind a tree just behind William.

Bert and Tom went off to the barrel. William was having another drink. Then Bilbo plucked up courage and put his little hand in Williams enormous pocket. There was a purse in it, as big as a bag to Bilbo. Ha! thought he warming to his new work as he lifted it carefully out, this is a beginning! It was! Trolls purses are the mischief, and this was no exception. Ere, oo are you? it squeaked, as it left the pocket; and William turned round at once and grabbed Bilbo by the neck, before he could duck behind the tree.

Blimey, Bert, look what Ive copped! said William.

What is it? said the others coming up.

Lumme, if I knows! What are yer?

Bilbo Baggins, a bur a hobbit, said poor Bilbo, shaking all over, and wondering how to make owl-noises before they throttled him. A burrahobbit? said they a bit startled. Trolls are slow in the uptake, and mighty suspicious about anything new to them.

Whats a burrahobbit got to do with my pocket, anyways? said William.

And can yer cook em? said Tom.

Yer can try, said Bert, picking up a skewer.

He wouldnt make above a mouthful, said William, who had already had a fine supper, not when he was skinned and boned.

Praps there are more like him round about, and we might make a pie, said Bert. Here you, are there any more of your sort a-sneakin in these here woods, yer nassty little rabbit, said he looking at the hobbits furry feet; and he picked him up by the toes and shook him.

Yes, lots, said Bilbo, before he remembered not to give his friends away. No, none at all, not one, he said immediately afterwards. What dyer mean? said Bert, holding him right away up, by the hair this time.

What I say, said Bilbo gasping. And please dont cook me, kind sirs! I am a good cook myself, and cook bet-ter than I cook, if you see what I mean. Ill cook beautifully for you, a perfectly beautiful breakfast for you, if only you wont have me for supper.

Poor little blighter, said William. He had already had as much supper as he could hold; also he had had lots of beer. Poor little blighter! Let him go!

Not till he says what he means by lots and none at all, said Bert. I dont want to have me throat cut in me sleep. Hold his toes in the fire, till he talks!

I wont have it, said William. I caught him anyway. Youre a fat fool, William, said Bert, as Ive said afore this evening.

And youre a lout!

And I wont take that from you. Bill Huggins, says Bert, and puts his fist in Williams eye.

Then there was a gorgeous row. Bilbo had just enough wits left, when Bert dropped him on the ground, to scramble out of the way of their feet, before they were fighting like dogs, and calling one another all sorts of perfectly true and applicable names in very loud voices. Soon they were locked in one anothers arms, and rolling nearly into the fire kicking and thumping, while Tom whacked at then both with a branch to bring them to their senses-and that of course only made them madder than ever. That would have been the time for Bilbo to have left. But his poor little feet had been very squashed in Berts big paw, and he had no breath in his body, and his head was going round; so there he lay for a while panting, just outside the circle of firelight. Right in the middle of the fight up came Balin. The dwarves had heard noises from a distance, and after wait-ing for some time for Bilbo to come back, or to hoot like an owl, they started off one by one to creep towards the light as quietly as they could. No sooner did Tom see Balin come into the light than he gave an awful howl. Trolls simply detest the very sight of dwarves (uncooked). Bert and Bill stopped fighting immediately, and a sack, Tom, quick! they said, before Balin, who was wondering where in all this commotion Bilbo was, knew what was happening, a sack was over his head, and he was down.

Theres more to come yet, said Tom, or Im mighty mistook. Lots and none at all, it is, said he. No burra hobbits, but lots of these here dwarves. Thats about the shape of it!

I reckon youre right, said Bert, and wed best get out of the light.

And so they did. With sacks in their hands, that they used for carrying off mutton and other plunder, they waited in the shadows. As each dwarf came up and looked at the fire, and the spilled jugs, and the gnawed mutton, in surprise, pop! went a nasty smelly sack over his head, and he was down. Soon Dwalin lay by Balin, and Fili and Kili together, and Dori and Nori and Ori all in a heap, and Oin and Gloin and Bifur and Bofur and Bombur piled uncomfortably near the fire.

Thatll teach em, said Tom; for Bifur and Bombur had given a lot of trouble, and fought like mad, as dwarves will when cornered. Thorin came last-and he was not caught unawares. He came expecting mischief, and didnt need to see his friends legs sticking out of sacks to tell him that things were not all well. He stood outside in the shadows some way off, and said: Whats all this trouble? Who has been knocking my people about?

Its trolls! said Bilbo from behind a tree. They had forgotten all about him. Theyre hiding in the bushes with sacks, said he. O! are they? said Thorin, and he jumped forward to the fire, before they could leap on him. He caught up a big branch all on fire at one end; and Bert got that end in his eye before he could step aside. That put him out of the battle for a bit. Bilbo did his best. He caught hold of Toms leg-as well as he could, it was thick as a young tree-trunk but he was sent spinning up into the top of some bushes, when Tom kicked the sparks up in Thorins face. Tom got the branch in his teeth for that, and lost one of the front ones. It made him howl, I can tell you. But just at that moment William came up behind and popped a sack right over Thorins head and down to his toes. And so the fight ended. A nice pickle they were all in now: all neatly tied up in sacks, with three angry trolls (and two with burns and bashes to remember) sitting by them, arguing whether they should roast them slowly, or mince them fine and boil them, or just sit on them one by one and squash them into jelly: and Bilbo up in a bush, with his clothes and his skin torn, not daring to move for fear they should hear him.

It was just then that Gandalf came back. But no one saw him. The trolls had just decided to roast the dwarves now and eat them later-that was Berts idea, and after a lot of argument they had all agreed to it. No good roasting em now, itd take all night, said a voice. Bert thought it was Williams.

Dont start the argument all over-again. Bill, he said, or it will take all night.

Whos a-arguing? said William, who thought it was. Bert that had spoken.

You are, said Bert.

Youre a liar, said William; and so the argument beg all over again. In the end they decided to mince them fine and boil them. So they got a black pot, and they took out their knives.

No good boiling em! We aint got no water, and its a long way to the well and all, said a voice. Bert and William thought it was Toms. Shut up! said they, or well never have done. And yer can fetch the water yerself, if yer say any more.

Shut up yerself! said Tom, who thought it was Williams voice. Whos arguing but you. Id like to know.

Youre a booby, said William.

Booby yerself! said Tom.

And so the argument began all over again, and went on hotter than ever, until at last they decided to sit on the sacks one by 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 by Thorin. He thought Tom was talking.

Dont talk to yerself! said Tom. But if you wants to sit on the last one, sit on him. Which is he?

The one with the yellow stockings, said Bert.

Nonsense, the one with the grey stockings, said a voice like Williams.

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 nights gettin on, and dawn comes early. Lets get on with it!

Dawn take you all, and be stone to you! said a voice that sounded like Williams. But it wasnt. For just at that moment the light came over the hill, and there was a mighty twitter in the branches. William never spoke for he stood turned to stone as he stooped; and Bert and Tom were stuck like rocks as they looked at him. And there they stand to this day, all alone, unless the birds perch on them; for trolls, as you probably know, must be underground before dawn, or they go back to the stuff of the mountains they are made of, and never move again. That is what had happened to Bert and Tom and William. Excellent! said Gandalf, as he stepped from behind a tree, and helped Bilbo to climb down out of a thorn-bush. Then Bilbo understood. It was the wizards voice that had kept the trolls bickering and quarrelling, until the light came and made an end of them.

The next thing was to untie the sacks and let out the dwarves. They were nearly suffocated, and very annoyed: they had not at all enjoyed lying there listening to the trolls making plans for roasting them and squashing them and mincing them. They had to hear Bilbos account of what had happened to him twice over, before they were satisfied.

Silly time to go practising pinching and pocket-picking, said Bombur, when what we wanted was fire and food!

And thats just what you wouldnt have got of those fellows without a struggle, in any case, said Gandalf.

Anyhow you are wasting time now. Dont you realize that the trolls must have a cave or a hole dug somewhere near to hide from the sun in? We must look into it!