Satisfied, the wight looked out of the secret chamber onto his current victims. Rare enough that somebody came through Cardolan these days. It had been ages now that the old kingdom had fallen victim to its civil wars and rival kingdoms that had eventually extinguished each other with the exception of very few that came out of purer Númenorean bloodlines that still survived in wandering individuals. Yes, they crossed now and again hurriedly during their journeys through the Barrow-downs, as they were called now, but they knew their way and did not approach any barrow or knew their way around them sure enough so they could not be ensnared and, if he was honest enough, he had not the courage or skill to overwhelm. Other than these four little creatures, like small humans they looked to him, for he had not encountered their kind before.
It had been a long-forgotten pleasure to manipulate the weather, their emotions and perception. He almost had felt joy when he spoke the necessary spells and formulas. Only that last one, the one at the front, had given him trouble and only as his pony had run away from the terror of the situation - terror for the pony that is, for him it was pure fulfilment of existence. Only then had he managed to overcome this little guy and prepare him for further incantations to bind him and his companions to this barrow.
What would he do then, the wight wondered, use them as his slaves to polish the treasures and keep the secret chamber and its tunnels intact so they could be further used and possibly adjusted as the wight's power grew? Maybe - that remained to be seen, the wight decided.
Now, continue with the ritual, enough loitering about! The wight reached out with his bony-seeming hand to the leader, pushing the sword across the necks of the other three.
But what was that? A pain like he had not known before shot up his arm and with horror he realised that his hand with the sword had been severed! Loud he cried and howled and tried to spread terror in defence, hoping to put off his attacker. But no .. instead, his former victim started to sing, sing words he feared as they were addressed to someone who surpassed him in power manyfold.
And yes there he was, with his painfully colourful clothing and hat and boots and everything. Then this creature sang.
Away! Away! Where to go, where to flee? Just away, east and further east reduced to a dark wisp.
Reference: The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, Book 1: Chapter VIII "Fog on the Barrow-downs"