&&000 The Fellowship of the Ring p29 &&111 When Mr =BilboBaggins of =BagEnd announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in =Hobbiton. =Bilbo was very rich and very peculiar, and had been the wonder of the Shire for sixty years, ever since his remarkable disappearance and unexpected return. The riches he had brought back from his travels had now become a local legend, and it was popularly believed, whatever the old folk might say, that the Hill at =BagEnd was full of tunnels stuffed with treasure. And if that was not enough for fame, there was also his prolonged vigor to marvel at. Time wore on, but it seemed to have little effect on Mr =Baggins. &&000 p68 &&111 "What he had been doing he would not say. He only wept and called us cruel, with many a =gollum in his throat; and when we pressed him he whined and cringed, and rubbed his long hands, licking his fingers as if they pained him, as if he remembered some old torture. But I am afraid there is no possible doubt: he had made his slow, sneaking way, step by step, mile by mile, south, down at last to the Land of =Mordor. A heavy silence fell in the room. =Frodo could hear his heart beating. Even outside everything seemed still. No sound of =Sam's shears could now be heard. "Yes, to =Mordor," said =Gandalf. "Alas! =Mordor draws all wicked things, and the Dark Power was bending all its will to gather them there. The Ring of the Enemy would leave its mark, too, leave him open to the summons." &&000 p 109 &&111 Their land was originally unprotected from the East; but on that side they had built a hedge: the =HighHay. It had been planted many generations ago, and was not thick and tall, for it was constantly tended. It ran all the way from =Brandywine Bridge, in a big loop curving away from the river, to =Haysend (where the =Withywindle flowed out of the forest into the =Brandywine): well over twenty miles from end to end. But, of course, it was not a complete protection. The Forest drew close to the hedge in many places. The =Bucklanders kept their doors locked after dark, and that also was not usual in the Shire. &&000 p148 &&111 About mid-day they came to a hill whose top was wide and flattened, like a shallow saucer with a green mounded rim. Inside there was no air stirring, and the sky seemed near their heads. They rode across and looked northwards. Then their hearts rose, for it seemed plain that they had come further already than they had expected. Certainly the distances had now all become hazy and deceptive, but there could be no doubt that the Downs were coming to an end. A long valley lay below then winding away northwards, until it came to an opening between two steep shoulders. Beyond, there seemed to be no more hills. Due north they faintly glimpsed a long dark line. "That is a line of trees," said =Merry, "and that must mark the Road. All along it for many leagues east of the Bridge there are trees growing. Some say they were planted in the old days." &&000 p189 &&111 The =Brandybucks were blowing the Horn-call of =Buckland, that had not been sounded for a hundred years, not since the white wolves came in the Fell Winter, when the =Brandywine was frozen over. Far-away answering horns were heard. The alarm was spreading. The black figures fled from the house. One of them let fall a hobbit cloak on the step, as he ran. In the lane, the noise of hoofs broke out, and gathering to a gallop, went hammering away into the darkness. All about =Crickethollow there was the sounds of horns blowing, and voices crying and feet running. But the Black Riders rode like a gale to the North gate. Let the little people blow! =Sauron would deal with them later. Meanwhile they had another errand: they knew now that the house was empty and the Ring had gone. They rode down the guards as the gate and vanished from the Shire. &&000 p231 &&111 =Frodo woke and found himself lying in bed. At first he thought that he had slept late, after a long unpleasant dream that still hovered on the edge of memory. Or perhaps he had been ill? But the ceiling looked strange; it was flat, and it had dark beams richly carved. He lay a little while longer looking at patches of sunlight on the wall, and listening to the sound of a waterfall. "Where am I, and what is the time," he said aloud to the ceiling? "In the House of =Elrond, and it is ten o'clock in the morning," said a voice. "It is the morning of October the twenty-fourth, if you want to know." "=Gandalf," cried =Frodo, sitting up! There was the old wizard, sitting in a chair by the open window. &&000 p270 &&111 "=Gandalf, he cried! I was seeking you. But I am a stranger in these parts! All I knew was that you might be found in a wild region with the uncouth name of Shire." "Your information was correct, I said. But do not put it that way, if you meet any of the inhabitants. You are near the borders of the Shire now. And what do you want with me? It must be pressing. You were never a traveller, unless driven by great need." "I have an urgent errand, he said. My news is evil. Then he looked about him, as if the hedges might have ears. Nazgul, he whispered. The Nine are abroad again. They have crossed the River secretly and are moving westward. They have taken the guise of riders in black." &&000 p311 &&111 "Need we wait until morning then," said =Gandalf? "It is as I said. The hunt is up! Even if we live to see the dawn, who will now wish to journey south by night with the wild wolves on his trail?" "How far is =Moria," asked =Boromir? "There was a door south-west of =Caradhras, some fifteen miles as the crow flies, and maybe twenty as the wolf runs," answered =Gandalf grimly. "Then let us start as soon as it it light tomorrow, if we can," said =Boromir. "The wolf that one hears is worse than the orc that one fears." "True," said =Aragorn, loosening his sword in its sheath! "But where the warg howls, there also the orc prowls." &&000 p350 &&111 While =Gimli and the two younger hobbits kindled a fire of brush and fir wood, and drew water, =Aragorn tended to =Sam and =Frodo. =Sam's wound was not deep, but it looked ugly, and =Aragorn's face was grave as he examined it. After a moment he looked up with relief. "Good luck, =Sam," he said! "Many have received worse than this in payment for slaying their first orc. The cut is not poisoned, as the wounds of orc blades too often are. It should heal well when I have tended to it. Bathe it when =Gimli has heated water." He opened his pouch and drew out some withered leaves. "They are dry, and some of their virtue is gone," he said, "but here I have still some of the leaves of =athelas that I gathered near =Weathertop. Crush on in the water, and wash the wound clean, and I will bind it. Now it is your turn, =Frodo." &&000 p391 &&111 "Here is the gift of =Celeborn and =Galadriel to the leader of your Company," she said to =Aragorn, and she gave him a sheath that had been made to fit his sword. It was overlaid with tracery of flowers and leaves wrought of silver and gold, and on it were set in elven runes formed of many gems the name =Anduril and the lineage of the sword. "The blade that is drawn from this sheath shall not be stained or broken even in defeat," she said. "But is there aught else that you desire of me at our parting? For darkness will flow between us, and it may be that we shall not meet again, unless it be far hence upon a road that has not returning."