“But something makes paths. Whenever
one comes inside one finds open tracks; but they seem to
shift and change from time to time in a queer fashion.”
The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘The Old Forest’
“Frodo,” Bilbo reminded him, “we can show Estel the gate, but without the key he won’t be able to...” The old hobbit’s words died in his throat as Merry pulled a large, ornate key from his pocket.
“I knew he had taken the key, Bilbo,” Frodo sighed. “Merry said he wanted to carry it with him ‘just for fun on our Adventure’.”
“Wait a minute,” Aragorn interrupted. “Are you saying that you have a way into the Old Forest?”
“Yes,” Bilbo said, pointing north along the Hedge. “You’ve nearly reached the very place. Just a bit farther along is a tunnel which hobbits dug under the Hedge. An iron gate at the end separates Buckland from the Old Forest. Long ago, the trees attacked the Hedge and tried to enter Buckland. The hobbits cut many of them down, and set a fire that stopped the attack. Few have entered the Forest since, but I understand that the Brandybucks go in, on occasion.” He looked sternly at Merry. “This lad’s father safeguards one of the only keys to the gate.”
“I was going to put it back when we went home,” Merry insisted.
“Give it to him, Merry lad,” Bilbo said. Merry sighed and handed Aragorn the key.
“Thank you,” Aragorn said. “Why don’t you take the boys back to your camp, Bilbo? I’ll return the key to you as soon as we’ve located our lost comrade.”
“Can’t we come with you?” Frodo asked eagerly. “Maybe Scamp can help to---”
“No,” Aragorn and Bilbo said together.
“Come on, lads,” Bilbo said, getting to his feet. “Rangers are excellent trackers; they don’t need our help to find their friend.”
While Frodo and Merry were saying goodbye to Thalguron, Aragorn pulled Bilbo aside.
“Bilbo, this guest house of yours... where is it?”
“When you find the tunnel,” Bilbo replied, “you’ll see a lane nearby. Follow the lane to the west for about a mile, and you can’t miss it. We’re camped in a glade surrounded by trees, just off the lane near the house.” Bilbo looked at the Ranger speculatively. “You seem concerned.”
“I am,” Aragorn admitted. “Halbarad may be simply lost, or he may have been injured. If we need to bring him somewhere for tending...”
“Don’t hesitate for a moment,” Bilbo declared. “Crickhollow may not be large, but it’s well equipped. It’s empty just now, and you are most welcome there.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Aragorn said softly. “I hope to return soon, and with good news.”
~*~
The hobbits returned to their campsite, about a 20 minute walk from the Hedge. After breakfast, Frodo and Merry climbed up into the trees then tried to catch frogs in the nearby stream, while Bilbo sat on a blanket reading one of the books he had brought. While Merry took a nap after elevenses, Frodo ran about throwing small sticks which Scamp caught in mid-air and carried back to him. Bilbo was just waking Merry so the boy could wash up before luncheon, when Scamp’s ears pricked up and she started running across the field. Just then, the hobbits heard the sound of horses approaching.
Aragorn and Thalguron rode up and dismounted, looking grim.
“They didn’t find him,” Frodo murmured.
“Come and have something to eat,” Bilbo urged the Men, “then you can tell us all about it.”
The Rangers sat on one of the blankets strewn on the grass, and soon were drinking hot tea and being handed plates of roast chicken and thick slices of bread.
“Thank you,” Thalguron said gratefully.
“What of your friend?” Merry blurted out, unable to wait for the Men to begin their tale.
“He indeed entered the Old Forest,” Aragorn began. “We discovered his tracks within the tunnel.”
“How did he get through the gate?” Frodo asked.
“He did not need to,” Thalguron replied. “A portion of ground near the gate had washed away during the storm, leaving an opening through which a Man could squeeze, if his desire was strong enough. We chose to use your gate entrance, and crossed the hollow that leads to the Forest. As soon as we entered the trees, we lost his trail. Intertwining roots cover nearly every bit of ground, and seemed to subtly shift even as we stepped over them.”
“We called out,” Aragorn continued, “but our voices fell at our feet. Sound seems not to travel within the trees’ realm, but whispers and murmurs could be heard everywhere around us.”
“Were the trees angry?” Merry whispered.
“I did not sense... anger,” Aragorn said thoughtfully, and Thalguron nodded in agreement. “It was something else...” He was silent for a moment, then continued the tale. “Thalguron stood at the entrance to the Forest and I went in only far enough to keep him in sight -- otherwise, I, too, may not have known how to return. The tales are true; even as I walked back to where Thalguron stood, the path I had followed seemed to have shifted. Whatever trail Halbarad may have left has been obscured, whether by chance or design.”
“What will you do?” Bilbo asked, concerned. “There’s no way to discern what direction Halbarad chose to go. The Forest has covered his tracks, and he cannot hear your calls.”
“I can think of only one solution readily at hand,” Aragorn said.
“Does Halbarad wear bootlaces?” Merry joked. “Maybe Scamp could find him.”
Aragorn nodded, but he wasn’t smiling. “He does, and that may have been the right idea all along.” He looked at Frodo. “Would you agree to my borrowing Scamp for a short time? I have no doubt that this dog’s nose and senses would not be fooled by the trees’ mischief; she could lead us straight to Halbarad, no matter how confusing the trail.”
“I agree,” Frodo said, feeding Scamp some bits of cold chicken. “But you’ll have to take me with you.”
“Absolutely not,” Aragorn said instantly.
“She won’t stay with you, Estel.”
“Unfortunately, he’s right,” Bilbo said unexpectedly. “Scamp will run back to Frodo at the first opportunity.” He looked at Frodo and grew very serious. “The Old Forest will not welcome hobbits, Frodo. The trees do not forget old grievances.”
“But what other solution is there? Besides, I’ll be with Rangers, Bilbo,” Frodo reminded him. “What could be safer? We can have Scamp lead us back at any sign of... well, anything dangerous.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Bilbo said slowly.
“I thank you,” Thalguron said fervently. “Halbarad is my kin.” He had heard that the Shirefolk were peaceful folk, and rather suspicious of strangers; he had not expected such open and courageous hearts. “Your willingness to help someone you have never met...”
“Isn’t that what you do?” Bilbo asked. “Few Rangers have met us, but you watch our borders without thanks or reward.”
“You will find hobbits to be most surprising, Thalguron,” Aragorn said with a smile. “And now...”
“Let’s go!” Merry cried.
“Merry, you are most definitely not going,” Bilbo declared firmly. “Your father would have my head if I allowed it.”
Merry had suspected that Bilbo wouldn’t let him go with Frodo, but had no intention of being left behind entirely. He thought fast. “How about as far as the gate? Or maybe just beyond it? We can wait there for them to come back.”
“All right,” Bilbo said slowly. “And I have an idea.” He pulled out a large pocket handkerchief, and handed it to Frodo. “I doubt that Scamp will have any difficulty finding a trail, in or out... but in case you get turned around in there, let her sniff that. She’ll come and find me... and lead you straight back to where Merry and I will be waiting.”
Frodo stuffed the cloth in one of his pockets, his eyes shining with excitement.
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