Book 3, Chapter 4




TREE BEARD


Meanwhile the hobbits went with as much speed as the dark
and tangledforest allowed, following the line of the running stream,
westwardand up towards the slopes of the mountains, deeper and deeper
intoFangorn. Slowly their fear of the Orcs died away, and their
paceslackened. A queer stifling feeling came over them, as if the air
weretoo thin or too scanty for breathing.At last Merry halted. 'We canït
go on likc this,ï he panted. 'I wantsome air.ï'Letïs have a drink at any
rate,ï said Pippin. 'Iïm parched.ï Heclambered on to a great tree-root that
wound down into the stream,and stooping drew up some water in his cupped
hands. It was clearand cold, and he took many draughts. Merry followed him.
Thewater refreshed them and seemed to cheer their hearts; for a
whilethey sat together on the brink of the stream, dabbling their sore
feetand legs, and peering round at the trees that stood silently about
them,rank upon rank, until they faded away into grey twilight in
everydirection.'I suppose you havenït lost us already?ï said Pippin,
leaning backagainst a great tree-trunk. 'We can at least follow the course
of thisstream, the Entwash or whatever you call it, and get out again
theway we came.ï'We could, if our legs would do it,ï said Merry; 'and if
we couldbreathe properly.ï'Yes, it is all very dim, and stuffy, in
here,ï said Pippin. 'It remindsme, somehow, of the old room in the Great
Place of the Tooks awayback in the Smials at Tuckborough: a huge place,
where the furniturehas never been moved or changed for generations. They say
the OldTook lived in it year after year, while he and the room got older
andshabbier together-and it has never changed since he died, a
centuryago. And Old Gerontius was my great-great-grandfather: that puts
itback a bit. But that is nothing to the old feeling of this wood.
Lookat all those weeping, trailing, beards and whiskers of lichen! And
mostof the trees seem to be half covered with ragged dry leaves that
havenever fallen. Untidy. I canït imagine what spring would look
likehere, if it ever comes; still less a spring-cleaning.ï'But the Sun
at any rate must peep in sometimes.ï said Merry. 'Itdoes not look or feel at
all like Bilboïs description of Mirkwood. Thatwas all dark and black, and
the home of dark black things. This isjust dim, and frightfully tree-ish.
You canït imagine animals livinghere at all, or staying for long.ï'No,
nor hobbits,ï said Pippin. 'And I donït like the thought of tryingto get
through it either. Nothing to cat for a hundred miles, I shouldguess. How
are our supplies?ï'Low,ï said Merry. 'We ran off with nothing but a couple
of sparepackets of Iembas, and left everything else behind.ï They looked
atwhat remained of the elven-cakes: broken fragments for about
fivemeagre days, that was all. 'And not a wrap or a blanket,ï said
Merry.'We shall be cold tonight, whichever way we go.ï'Well, weïd better
decide on the way now,ï said Pippin. 'The morn-ing must be getting
on.ïJust then they became aware of a yellow light that had appeared,some
way further on into the wood: shafts of sunlight seemed sud-denly to have
pierced the forest-roof.'Hullo!ï said Merry. 'The Sun must have run into a
cloud whileweïve been under these trees, and now she has run out again; or
elseshe has climbed high enough to look down through some opening.
Itisnït far letïs go and investigate!ïThey found it was further than
they thought. The ground wasrising steeply still, and it was becoming
increasingly stony. The lightgrew broader as they went on, and soon they saw
that there was arock-wall before them: the side of a hill, or the abrupt end
of somelong root thrust out by the distant mountains. No trees grew on
it,and the sun was falling full on its stony face. The twigs of the
treesat its foot were stretched out stiff and still, as if reaching out to
thewarmth. Where all had looked so shabby and grey before, the
woodnow gleamed with rich browns, and with the smooth black-greys ofbark
like polished leather. The boles of the trees glowed with a softgreen like
young grass: early spring or a fleeting vision of it was
aboutthem.In the face of the stony wall there was something like a
stair:natural perhaps, and made by the weathering and splitting of
therock, for it was rough and uneven. High up, almost level with thetops
of forest-trees, there was a shelf under a cliff. Nothing grewthere but a
few grasses and weeds at its edge, and one old stump of atree with only two
bent branches left: it looked almost like the figureof some gnarled old man,
standing there, blinking in the morning-light.'IIp we go!ï said Merry
joyfully. 'Now for a breath of air, and asight of the land!ïThey climbed
and scrambled up the rock. If the stair had been madeit was for bigger feet
and longer legs than theirs. They were too eagerto be surprised at the
remarkable way in which the cuts and soresof their captivity had healed and
their vigour had returned. They cameat length to the edge of the shelf
almost at the feet of the old stump;then they sprang up and turned round
with their backs to the hill,breathing deep, and looking out eastward. They
saw that they hadonly come some three or four miles into the forest: the
heads of thetrees marched down the slopes towards the plain. There, near
thefringe of the forest, tall spires of curling black smoke went up,
waver-ing and floating towards them.'The windïs changing,ï said Merry.
'Itïs turned east again. It feelscool up here.ï'Yes,ï said Pippin; 'Iïm
afraid this is only a passing gleam, and it willall go grey again. What
a pity! This shaggy old forest looked so dif-ferent in the sunlight. I
almost felt I liked the place.ï'Almost felt you liked the Forest! Thatïs
good! Thatïs uncommonlykind of you,ï said a strange voice. 'Turn round and
let me have a lookat your faces. I almost feel that I dislike you both, but
do not let usbe hasty. Turn round!ï A large knob-knuckled hand was laid on
eachof their shoulders, and they were twisted round, gently but
irresistibly;then two great arms lifted them up.They found that they
were looking at a most extraordinary face.It belonged to a large Man-like,
almost Troll-like, figure, at least four-teen foot high, very sturdy,
with a tall head, and hardly any neck.Whether it was clad in stuff like
green and grey bark, or whether thatwas its hide, was difficult to say. At
any rate the arms, at a short dis-tance from the trunk, were not
wrinkled, but covered with a brownsmooth skin. The large feet had seven toes
each. The lower part ofthe long face was covered with a sweeping grey beard,
bushy, almosttwiggy at the roots, thin and mossy at the ends. But at the
momentthe hobbits noted little but the eyes. These deep eyes were now
sur-veying them, slow and solemn, but very penetrating. They werebrown,
shot with a green light. Often afterwards Pippin tried to de-scribe his
first impression of them.'One felt as if there was an enormous well behind
them, filled upwith ages of memory and long, slow, steady thinking; but
their surfacewas sparkling with the present: like sun shimmering on the
outerleaves of a vast tree, or on the ripples of a very deep lake. I donït
knowbut it felt as if something that grew in the ground-asleep, you
mightsay, or just feeling itself as something between roof-tip and
leaf-tip,bctween deep earth and sky had suddenly waked up, and was
consider-ing you with the same slow care that it had given to its own
insideaffairs for endless years.ï'Hrum, Hoom,ï murmured the voice, a
deep voice like a verydeep woodwind instrument. 'Very odd indeed! Do not be
hasty, thatis my motto. But if I had seen you, before I heard your
voices-Iliked them: nice little voices: they reminded me of somethingI
cannot remember---if I had seen you before I heard you, I shouldhave just
trodden on you, taking you for little Orcs, and found outmy mistake
afterwards. Very odd you are, indeed. Root and twig,very odd!ïPippin,
though still amazed, no longer felt afraid. Under those eyeshe felt a
curious suspense, but not fear. 'Please.ï he said, 'who are you?And what
are you?ïA queer look came into the old eyes, a kind of wariness; the
deepwells were covered over. 'Hrum, now,ï answered the voice; 'well,I am
an Ent, or thatïs what they call me. Yes, Ent is the word.The Ent, I am, you
might say, in your manner of speaking. Fangornis my name according tn some,
Treebeard others make it. Treebeardwill do.ï'An Ent?ï said Merry.
'Whatïs that? But what do you call yourself?Whatïs your real name?ï'Hoo
now!ï replied Treebeard. 'Hoo! Now that would be telling!IVot so hasty. And
I am doing the asking. You are in my country.What are you, I wonder? I
cannot place you. You do not seem tocome in the old lists that I learned
when I was young. But that was along, long time ago, and they may have made
new lists. Let me see!Let me see! How did it go?Learn now the lore
of Living Creatures!First name the four, the free peoples:Eldest of all,
the elf-children;Dwarf the delver, dark are his houses;Ent the
earthborn, old as mountains;Man the mortal, master of horses:Hm, hm,
hm.Beaver the builder, buck the leaper,Bear bee-hunter, boar the
fighter;Hound is hungry, hare is fearful...hm, hm.Eagle in eyrie, ox
in pasture,Hart horn-crown‚d; hawk is swiftestSwan the whitest, serpent
coldest...Hoom, hm; hoom. hm. how did it go? Room tum. room tum.
roomtytoom tum. It was a long list. But anyway you do not seem to fit
inanywhere!ï'We always seem to have got left out of the old lists, and
the oldstories,ï said Merry. 'Yet weïve been about for quite a long time.
Weïrehobbits.ï'Why not make a new line?ï said Pippin.'Half Brown
hobbits, the hole-dwellers.Put us in amongst the four, next to Man (the
Big People) and youïvegot it.ï'Hm! Not bad, not bad,ï said Treebeard.
'That would do. So youlive in holes, eh? It sounds very right and proper.
Who calls you hob-bits, though? That does not sound elvish to me. Elves made
all the oldwords: they began it.ï'Nobody else calls us hobbits; we call
ourselves that,ï said Pippin.'Hoom, hmm! Come now! Not so hasty! You call
yourselves hob-bits? But you should not go telling just anybody. Youïll be
letting outyour own right names if youïre not careful.ï'We arenït
careful about that,ï said Merry. 'As a matter of fact Iïma Brandybuck,
Meriadoc Brandybuck, though most people call mejust Merry.ï'And Iïm a
Took, Peregrin Took, but Iïm generally called Pippin, oreven Pip.ï'Hm,
but you are hasty folk, I see,ï said Treebeard. 'I am honouredby your
confidence; but you should not be too free all at once. Thereare Ents and
Ents, you know; or there are Ents and things that looklike Ents but ainït,
as you might say. Iïll call you Merry and Pippinif you please-nice names.
For I am not going to tell you my name,not yet at any rate.ï A queer
half-knowing, half-humorous look camewith a green flicker into his eyes.
'For one thing it would take a longwhile: my name is growing all the time,
and Iïve lived a very long,long time; so my name is like a story. Real names
tell you the storyof the things they belong to in my language, in the Old
Entish as youmight say. It is a lovely language, but it takes a very long
time to sayanything in it, because we do not say anything in it. unless it
is worthtaking a long time to say, and to listen to.'But now,ï and the
eyes became very bright and 'presentï, seemingto grow smaller and almost
sharp, 'what is going on? What are youdoing in it all? I can see and hear
(and sm.ell and feel) a great dealfrom this, from this, from this
a-lalla-lalla-rumba-kamanda-lind-or-burŚmÓ. Excuse me: that is a part of my
name for it; I do not knowwhat the word is in the outside languages: you
know, the thing weare on, where I stand and look out on finc mornings, and
think aboutthe Sun, and the grass beyond the wood, and the horses,
andthe clouds, and the unfolding of the world. What is going on?What is
Gandalf up to? And these-burÔrum,ï he made a deeprumbling noise like a
discord on a great organ-ïthese Orcs, andyoung Saruman down at Isengard? I
like news. But not too quicknow.ï'There is quite a lot going on,ï said
Merry: 'and even if we tried tobe quick, it would take a long time to tell.
But you told us not to behasty. Ought we to tell you anything so soon? Would
you think itrude, if we asked what you are going to do with us, and which
sideyou are on? And did you know Gandalf?ï'Yes, I do know him: the only
wizard that really cares about trees 'said Treebeard. 'Do you know
him?ï'Yes,ï said Pippin sadly, 'we did. He was a great friend, and he
wasour guide.ï'Then I can answer your other questions,ï said Treebeard.
'I amnot going to do anything with you: not if you mean by that 'do
some-thing to youï without your leave. We might do some things
together.I donït know about sides. I go my own way; hut your way may
goalong with mine for a while. But you speak of Master Gandalf, as ifhe
was in a story that had c me to an end.ï'Yes, we do,ï said Pippin ly. 'The
story seems to be going on, butI am afraid Gandalf has fallen out of
it.ï'Hoo, come now!ï said Treebeard. 'Hoom, hm, ah well.ï He
paused,looking long at the hobbits: 'Hoom. ah, well I do not know what
tosay. Come now!ï'If you would like to hear more. said Merry, 'we will
tell you. Butit will take some time. Wouldnït you like to put us down?
Couldnïtwe sit here together in the sun, while it lasts? You must be
gettingtired of holding us up.ï'Hm, tired? No. I am not tired. I do not
easily get tired. And I donot sit down. I am not very. hm, bendable. But
there. the Sun is goingin. Let us leave this-did you say what you call
it?ï'Hill?ï suggested Pippin.ïshelf? Step?ï suggested Merry.Treebeard
repeated the words thoughtfully. 'Hill. Yes, that was it.But it is a hasty
word for a thing that has stood here ever since thispart of the world was
shaped. Never mind. Let us leave it, and go.ï'Where shall we go?ï asked
Merry.'To my home, or one of my homes,ï answered Treebeard.'Is it
far?ï'I do not know. You might call it far, perhaps. But what does
thatmatter?ï'Well, you see, we have lost all our belongings,ï said
Merry. 'Wehave only a little food.ï'O! Hm! You need not trouble about
that,ï said Treebeard. 'I cangive you a drink that will keep you green and
growing for a long, longwhile. And if we decide to part company, I can set
you down outsidemy country at any point you choose. Let us
go!ïHolding the hobbits gently but firmly, one in the crook of each
arm,Treebeard lifted up first one large foot and then the other, and
movedthem to the edge of the shelf. The rootlike toes grasped the
rocks.Then carefully and solemnly, he stalked down from step to step,
andreached the floor of the Forest.At once he set off with long
deliberate strides through the trees,deeper and deeper into the wood, never
far from the stream, climbingsteadily up towards the slopes of the
mountains. Many of the treesseemed asleep, or as unaware of him as of any
other creature thatmerely passed by; but some quivered, and some raised up
theirbranches above his head as he approached. All the while, as he
walked,he talked to himself in a long running stream of musical
sounds.The hobbits were silent for some time. They felt, oddly
enough,safe and comfortabte, and they had a great deal to think and
wonderabout. At last Pippin ventur‚d to speak again.'Please, Treebeard,ï
he said, 'could I ask you something? Why didCeleborn warn us against your
forest? He told us not to risk gettingentangled in it.ï'Hmm, did he
now?ï rumbled Treebeard. 'And I might have saidmuch the same, if you had
been going the other way. Do not riskgetting entangled in the woods of
Laurelindórenan! That is what thcElves used to call it, but now they make
the name shorter: Lothlórienthey call it. Perhaps they are right: maybe it
is fading; not growing. Land of the Valley of Singing Gold, that was it,
once upona time. Now it is the Dreamflower. Ah well! But it is a
queerplace, and not for just any one to venture in. I am surprised
thatyou ever got out, but much more surprised that you ever got in:
thathas not happened to strangers for many a year. It is a queer
land.'And so is this. Folk have come to grief here. Aye, they have,
togrief. Laurelindórenan lindelorendor malinorn‚lion ornemalin,ï
hehummed to himself. 'They are falling rather behind the world inthere,
I guess,ï he said 'Neither this country, nor anything else out-side the
Golden Wood, is what it was when Celeborn was
young.Still:TaurelilómÓa-tumbalemorna Tumb.aletnurÓa LómÓunor (See
Appendix F under Ents).that is what they used to say. Things have
changed, but it is still truein places.ï'What do you mean?ï said Pippin.
'What is true?ï'The trees and the Ents,ï said Treebeard. 'I do not
understand allthat goes on myself, so I cannot explain it to you. Some of us
are stilltrue Ents, and lively enough in our fashion, but many are
growingsleepy, going tree-ish, as you might say. Most of the trees are
justtrees, of course; but many are half awake. Some are quite wide
awake,and a few are, well, ah, well getting Entish. That is going on all
thetime.'When that happens to a tree, you find that some have bad
hearts.Nothing to do with their wood: I do not mean that. Why, I
knewsome good old willows down the Entwash, gone long ago, alas!
Theywere quite hollow, indeed they were falling all to pieces, but as
quietand sweet-spoken as a young leaf. And then there are some treesin
the valleys under the mountains, sound as a bell, and bad rightthrough. That
sort of thing seems to spread. There used to be somevery dangerous parts in
this country. There are still some very blackpatches.ï'Like the Old
Forest away to the north, do you mean?ï asked Merry.'Aye, aye. something
like, but much worse. I do not doubt thereis some shadow of the Great
Darkness lying there still away north;and bad memories are handed down. But
there are hollow dales inthis land where the Darkness has never been lifted,
and the trees areolder than I am. Still, we do what we can. We keep off
strangers andthe foolhardy; and we train and we teach, we walk and we
weed.'We are tree-herds, we old Ents. Few enough of us are left
now.Sheep get like shepherd, and shepherds like sheep, it is said;
butslowly, and neither have long in the world. It is quicker and
closerwith trees and Ents, and they walk down the ages together. For
Entsare more like Elves: less interested in themselves than Men are,
andbetter at getting inside other things. And yet again Ents are more
likeMen, more changeable than Elves are, and quicker at taking the
colourof the outside, you might say. Or better than both: for they
aresteadier and keep their minds on things longer.'Some of my kin look
just like trees now, and need something greatto rouse them; and they speak
only in whispers. But some of mytrees are limb-lithe, and many can talk to
me. Elves began it, of course,waking trees up and teaching them to speak
and learning their tree-talk. They always wish.ed to talk to everything, the
old Elves did.But then the Great Darkness came, and they passed away over
theSea, or fled into far valleys, and hid themselves, and made songs
aboutdays that would never come again. Never again. Aye, aye, there
wasall one wood oncc upon a timc: from herc to thc Mountains of Lunc,and
this was just the East End.'Those were the broad days! Time was when I could
walk and singall day and hear no more than the echo of my own voice in the
hollowhills. The woods were like the woods of Lothlórien. only
thickerstronger, younger. And the smell of the air! I used to spend a
weekjust breathing.ïTreebeard fell silent, striding along, and yet
making hardly a soundwith his great feet. Then he began to hum again, and
passed into amurmuring chant. Gradually the hobbits became aware that he
waschanting to them:In the willow-meuds of Tasarinan I walked in the
Spring.Ah! the sight und the smell of the Spring in Nan-tasarion!And I
said that was good.I wandered in Summer in the eIm-woods of
Ossiriand.Ah! the light and the music in the Summer by the Seven Rivers
ofOssir!And I thought that was best.To the beeches of Neldoreth I
came in the Autumn.Ah! the gold and the red and the singing of lenves in the
Autumn inTaur-na-neldor!It was more than my desire.To the pine-trees
upon the highland of Dorthonion I climbed in theWinter.Ah! the wind and
the whiteness and the black hranches of Winterupon Orod-na-Th“n!My voice
went up and sang in the sky.And now all those lands lie under the
wave.And I walk in Ambaróna. in Tauremorna, in AldalómÓ.In my own lund,
in the country of Fangorn,Where the roots are long.And the years lie
thicker than the leavesIn TauremornalómÓ.He ended, and strode on
silently, and in all the wood, as far as earcould reach, there was not a
sound.The day waned, and dusk was twined about the boles of the
trees.At last the hobbits saw, rising dimly before them, a steep dark
land:they had come to the feet of the mountains, and vo the green roots
oftall Methedras. Down the hillside the young Entwash, leaping fromits
springs high abnve, ran noisily from step to step to meet them. Onthe right
of the stream there was a long slope, clad with grass, nowgrey in the
twilight. No trees grew there and it was open to the sky;stars were shining
already in lakes between shores of cloud.Treebeard strode up the slope,
hardly slackening his pace. Suddenlybefore them the hobbits saw a wide
opening. Two great trees stoodthere, one on either side, like living
gate-posts; but there was nogate save their crossing and interwoven boughs.
As the old Entapproached, the trees lifted up their branches, and all their
leavesquivered and rustled. For they were evergreen trees, and
theirleaves were dark and polished, and gleamed in the twilight.
Beyondthem was a wide level space, as though the floor of a great hall
hadbeen cut in the side of the hill. On either hand the walls
slopedupwards, until they were fifty feet high or more, and along each
wallstood an aisle of trees that also increased in height as they
marchedinwards.At the far end the rock-wall was sheer, but at the bottom
it hadbeen hollowed back into a shallow bay with an arched roof: the
onlyroof of the hall, save the branches of the trees, which at the inner
endovershadowed all the ground leaving only a broad open path in
themiddle. A little stream escaped from the springs above, and
leavingthe main water, fell tinkling down the sheer face of the wall,
pouringin silver drops, like a fine curtain in front of the arched bay. The
waterwas gathered again into a stone basin in the floor between the
trees,and thence it spilled and flowed away beside the open path, out
torejoin the Entwash in its journey through the forest.'Hm! Here we
are!ï said Treebeard, breaking his long silence.'I have brought you about
seventy thousand ent-strides, but whatthat comes to in the measurement of
your land I do not know. Any-how we are near the roots of the Last Mountain.
Part of the name ofthis place might be Wellinghall, if it were turned into
your language.I like it. We will stay here tonight.ï He set them down on the
grassbetween the aisles of the trees, ańd they followed him towards
thegreat arch. The hobbits now noticed that as he walked his knees
hardlybent, but his legs opened in a great stride. He planted his big toes
(andthey were indeed big, and very broad) on the ground first, before
anyother part of his feet.For a moment Treebeard stood under the rain of
the falling spring,and took a deep breath; then he laughed, and passed
inside. A greatstone table stood there, but no chairs. At the back of the
bay it wasalready quite dark. Treebeard lifted two great vessels and stood
themon the table. They seemed to be filled with water; but he held
hishands nver them, and immediately they began to glow, one with agolden
and the other with a rich green light; and the blending of thetwo lights lit
the bay; as if the sun of summer was shining through aroof of young leaves.
Looking back, the hobbits saw that the treesin the court had also begun to
glow, faintly at first, but steadilyquickening, until every leaf was edged
with light: some green, somegold, some red as copper; while the tree-trunks
looked like pillarsmoulded out of luminous stone.'Well, well, now we can
talk again,ï said Treebeard. 'You are thirstyI expect. Perhaps you are also
tired. Drink this!ï He went to the backof the bay, and then they saw that
several tall stone jars stood there,with heavy lids. He removed one of the
lids, and dipped in a greatladle, and with it filled three bowls, one very
large bowl, and twosmaller ones.'This is an ent-house,ï he said, 'and
there are no seats, I fear. But youmay sit on the table.ï Picking up the
hobbits he set them on the greatstone slab, six feet above the ground, and
there they sat dangling theirlegs, and drinking in sips.The drink was
like water, indeed very like the taste of the draughtsthey had drunk from
the Entwash near, the borders of the forest, andyet there was some scent or
savour in it which they could notdescribe: it was faint, but it reminded
them of the smell of a distantwood borne from afar by a cool breeze at
night. The effect of thedraught began at the toes, and rose steadily through
every limb,bringing refreshment and vigour as it coursed upwards, right to
thetips of the hair. Indeed the hobbits felt that the hair on their
headswas actually standing up, waving and curling and growing. As
forTreebeard, he first laved his feet in the basin beyond the arch,
andthen he drained his bowl at one draught, one long, slow draught.
Thehobbits thought he would never stop.At last he set the bowl down
again. 'Ah--ah,ï he sighed. Hm, hoom,now we can talk easier. You can sit on
the floor, and I will lie down;that will prevent this drink from rising to
my head and sending me tosleep.ïOn the right side of the bay there
was a great bed on low legs; notmore than a couple of feet high, covered
deep in dried grass andbracken. Treebeard lowered himself slowly on to this
(with only theslightest sign of bending at his middle), until he lay at full
length,with his arms behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. upon
whichlights were flickering, like the play of leaves in the sunshine.
Merryand Pippin sat beside him on pillows of grass.'Now tell me your
tale, and do not hurry!ï said Treebeard.The hobbits began to tell him the
story of their adventures ever sincethey left Hobbiton. They followed no
very clear order, for they inter-rupted one another continually, and
Treebeard often stopped thespeaker, and went back to some earlier point, or
jumped forward ask-ing questions about later events. They said nothing
whatever aboutthe Ring, and did not tell him why they set out or where they
weregoing to; and he did not ask for any reasons.He was immensely
interested in everything: in the Black Riders, inElrond, and Rivendell, in
the Old Forest, and Tom Bombadil, in theMines of Moria, and in Lothlórien
and Galadriel. He made them des-cribe the Shire and its country over and
over again. He said an oddthing at this point. 'You never see any, hm, any
Ents round theredo you?ï he asked. 'Well, not Ents, Entwives I should
reallysay.ï'Entwives?ï said Pippin. 'Are they like you at all?ïYes,
hm, well no: I do not reall know now, said Treebeardthoughtfully. 'But they
would like your country, so I just wondered.ïTreebeard was however
especially interested in everything thatconcerned Gandalf; and most
interested of all in Sarumanïs doings.The hobbits regretted very much that
they knew so little about them:only a rather vague report by Sam of what
Gandalf had told the Council. But they were clear at any rate that UglÅšk and
his troop came fromIsengard, and spoke of Saruman as their master.'Hm,
hoom!ï said Treebeard, when at last their story had woundand wandered down
to the battle of the Orcs and the Riders of Rohan.'Well, well! That is a
bundle of news and no mistake. You havenot told me all, no indeed, not by a
long way. But I do not doubtthat you are doing as Gandalf would wish. There
is something verybig going on, that I can see, and what it is maybe I shall
learn ingood time, or in bad time. By root and twig, but it is a strange
busi-ness: up sprout a little folk that are not in the old lists, and behold
the Nine forgotten Riders reappear to hunt them, and Gandalftakes them
on a great journey, and Galadriel harbours them in CarasGaladhon, and Orcs
pursue them down all the leagues of Wilderland:indeed they seem to be caught
up in a great storm. I hope theyweather it!ï'And what about yourself?ï
asked Merry.'Hoom, hm, I have not troubled about the Great Wars,ï
saidTreebeard; 'they mostly concern Elves and Men. That is thebusiness
of Wizards: Wizards are always troubled about the future.I do not like
worrying about the future. I am not altogether onanybodyïs side, because
nobody is altogether on my side, if youunderstand me: nobody cares for the
woods as I care for them, noteven Elves nowadays. Still, I take more kindly
to Elves than toothers: it was the Elves that cured us of dumbness long ago,
and thatwas a great gift that cannot be forgotten, though our ways
haveparted since. And there are some things, of course, whose side I
amaltogether not on; I am against them altogether: these-burÔrumï(he
again made a deep rumble of disgust) ' these Orcs, and theirmasters.'I
used to be anxious when the shadow lay on Mirkwood, but whenit removed to
Mordor, I did not trouble for a while: Mordor is a longway away. But it
seems that the wind is setting East, and the wither-ing of all woods may be
drawing near. There is naught that an old Entcan do to hold back that storm:
he must weather it or crack.'But Saruman now! Saruman is a neighbour: I
cannot overlook him.I must do something. I suppose. I have often wondered
lately whatI should do about Saruman.ï'Who is Saruman?ï asked Pippin.
'Do you know anything abouthis history?ï'Saruman is a Wizard,ï answered
Treebeard. 'More than that I cannotsay. I do not know the history of
Wizards. They appeared first afterthe Great Ships came over the Sea; but if
they came with the ShipsI never can tell. Saruman was reckoned great among
them. I believe.He gave up wandering about and minding the affairs of Men
andElves, some time ago-you would call it a very long time ago: andhe
settled down at Angrenost, or Isengard as the Men of Rohan callit. He was
very quiet to begin with, but his fame began to grow.He was chosen to be
head of the White Council, they say; but that did not turn out too well. I
wonder now if even then Saruman was not turning to evil ways. But at any
rate he used to give no trouble to his neighbours. I used to talk to him.
There was a time when he was always walking about my woods. He was polite in
those days, always asking my leave (at least when he met me); and always
eager to listen. I told him many things that he would never have found out
by himself; but he never repaid me in like kind. I cannot remember that he
ever told. me anything. And he got more and more like that; his face, as I
remember it-I have not seen it for many a day-became like windows in a stone
wall: windows with shutters inside.'I think that I now understand what
he is up to. He is plotting tobecome a Power. He has a mind of metal and
wheels; and he does notcare for growing things, except as far as they serve
him for themoment. And now it is clear that he is a black traitor. He has
takenup with foul folk, with the Orcs. Brm, hoom! Worse than that: he
hasbeen doing something to them; something dangerous. For these
Isen-garders are more like wicked Men. It is a mark of evil things that
camein the Great Darkness that they cannot abide the Sun; but
SarumanïsOrcs can endure it, even if they hate it. I wonder what he has
done?Are they Men he has ruined, or has he blended the races of Orcs
andMen? That would be a black evil!ïTreebeard rumbled for a moment, as
if he were pronouncing somedeep, subterranean Entish malediction.ïsome time
ago I began towonder how Orcs dared to pass through my woods so freely,ï he
wenton. 'Only lately did I guess that Saruman was to blame, and that
longago he had been spying out all the ways, and discovering my
secrets.He and his foul folk are making havoc now. Down on the borders
theyare felling trees-good trees. Some of the trees they just cut down
andleave to rot--orc-misehief that; but most are hewn up and carried
offto feed the fires of Orthanc. There is always a smoke rising
fromIsengard these days.'Curse him, root and braneh! Many of those trees
were my friendscreatures I had known from nut and acorn; many had voices of
theirown that are lost for ever now. And there are wastes of stump
andbramble where once there were singing groves. I have been idle. I
havelet things slip. It must stop!ïTreebeard raised himself from his bed
with a jerk, stood up, andthumped his hand on the table. The vessels of
light trembled and sentup two jets of flame. There was a flicker like green
fire in his eyes, andhis beard stood out stiff as a great besom.'I
will stop it!ï he boomed. 'And you shall comc with me. Youmay be able to
help me. You will be helping your own friends thatway, too; for if Saruman
is not checked Rohan and Gondor will havean enemy behind as well as in
front. Our roads go together-toIsengard!ï'We will come with you,ï said
Merry. 'We will do what we can.ï'Yes!ï said Pippin. 'I should like to see
the White Hand overthrown.I should like to be there, even if I could not be
of much use: I shallnever forget UglÅšk and the crossing of Rohan.ï'Good!
Good!ï said Treebeard. 'But I spoke hastily. We must not behasty. I have
become too hot. I must cool myself and think; fur it iseasier to shout stop!
than to do it.ïHe strode to the arehway and stood for some time under the
fallingrain of the spring. Then he laughed and shook himself, and
whereverthe drops of water fell glittering from him to the ground they
glintedlike red and green sparks. He came back and laid himself on the
bedagain and was silent.After some time the hobbits heard him
murmuring again. He seemedto be counting on his fingers. 'Fangorn, Finglas,
Fladrif, aye, aye,ïhe sighed. 'The trouble is that there are so few of us
left,ï he saidturning towards the hobbits. 'Only three remain of the first
Ents thatwalked in the woods before the Darkness: only myself,
Fangorn,and Finglas and Fladrif-to give them their Elvish names; you
maycall them Leaflock and Skinbark if you like that better. And of us
threeLeaflock and Skinbark are not much use for this business.
Leaflockhas grown sleepy. almost tree-ish, you might say: he has taken
tostanding by himself half-asleep all through the summer with thedeep
grass of the meadows round his knees. Covered with leafyhair he is. He used
to rouse up in winter; but of late he hasbeen too drowsy to walk far even
then. Skinbark lived on themountain-slopes west of Isengard. That is where
the worst troublehas been. He was wounded by the Orcs, and many of his folk
and histree-herds have been murdered and destroyed. He has gone up
intothe high places, among the birehes that he loves best, and he will
notcome down. Still, I daresay I could get together a fair company of
ouryounger folks-if I could make them understand the need: if I
couldrouse them: we are not a hasty folk. What a pity there are so few
ofus!ï'Why are there so few when you have lived in this country so
long?ïasked Pippin. 'Have a great many died?ï'Oh, no!ï said Treebeard.
'None have died from inside, as youmight say. Some have fallen in the evil
chances of the long years,of course: and more have grown tree-ish. But there
were never manyof us and we have not inereased. There have been no
Entings-nochildren, you would say, not for a terrible long count of years.
You see,we lost the Entwives.ï'How very sad!ï said Pippin. 'How was
it that they all died?ï'They did not die!ï said Treebeard. 'I never said
died. We lost them,I said. We lost them and we cannot find them.ï He sighed.
'I thoughtmost folk knew that. There were songs about the hunt of the
Entsfor the Entwives sung among Elves and Men from Mirkwood to
Gondor.They cannot be quite forgotten.ï'Well, I am afraid the songs have
not come west over the Mountainsto the Shire,ï said Merry. 'Wonït you tell
us some more, or sing usone of the songs?ï'Yes, I will indeed,ï said
Treebeard, seeming pleased with the request.'But I cannot tell it
properly, only in short; and then we must end ourtalk: tomorrow we have
councils to call, and work to do, and maybe ajourney to begin.ï'It
is rather a strange and sad story,ï he went on after a pause.'When the world
was young. and the woods were wide and wild, theEnts and the Entwives-and
there were Entmaidens then: ah! theloveliness of Fimbrethil, of Wandlimb the
lightfooted, in the days ofour youth! -- they walked together and they
housed together. Butour hearts did not go on growing in the same way: the
Ents gave theirlove to things that they met in the world, and the Entwives
gave theirthought to other things, for the Ents loved the great trees; and
thewild woods, and the slopes of the high hills; and they drank of
themountain-streams, and ate only such fruit as the trees let fall in
theirpath; and they learned of the Elves and spoke with the Trees. But
theEntwives gave their minds to the lesser trees, and to the meads inthe
sunshine beyond the feet of the forests; and they saw the sloe inthe
thicket, and the wild apple and the cherry blossoming in spring,and the
green herbs in the waterlands in summer, and the seedinggrasses in the
autumn fields. They did not desire to speak with thesethings; but they
wished them to hear and obey what was said to them.The Entwives ordered them
to grow according to their wishes, andbear leaf and fruit to their liking;
for the Entwives desired order, andplenty, and peace (by which they meant
that things should remainwhere they had set them). So the Entwives made
gardens to live in.But we Ents went on wandering, and we only came to the
gardensnow and again. Then when the Darkness came in the North,
theEntwives crossed the Great River, and made new gardens, and tillednew
fields, and we saw them more seldom. After the Darkness wasoverthrown the
land of the Entwives blossomed richly, and theirfields were full of corn.
Many men learned the crafts of the Entwivesand honoured them greatly; but we
were only a legend to them, asecret in the heart of the forest. Yet here we
still are, while all thegardens of the Entwives are wasted: Men call them
the Brown Landsnow.'I remember it was long ago-in the time of the war
betweenSauron and the Men of the Sea-desire came over me to see
Fimbrethilagain. Very fair she was still in my eyes, when I had last seen
her,though little like the Entmaiden of old. For the Entwives were
bentand browned by their labour; their hair parehed by the sun to thehue
of ripe corn and their cheeks like red apples. Yet their eyes werestill the
eyes of our own people. We crossed over Anduin and came totheir land: but wc
found a desert: it was all burned and uprooted,for war had passed over it.
But the Entwives were not there. Long wecalled, and long we searehed; and we
asked all folk that we met whichway the Entwives had gone. Some said they
had never seen them;and some said that they had seen them walking away west,
and somesaid east, and others snuth. But nowhere that we went could we
findthem. Our sorrow was very great. Yet the wild wood called, andwe
returned to it. For many years we used to go out everynow and again and look
for the Entwives. walking far andwide and calling them by their beautiful
names. But as time passedwe went more seldom and wandered less far. And now
theEntwives are only a memory for us, and our beards are long and
grey.The Elves made many songs concerning the Seareh of the Ents,
andsome of the songs passed into the tongues of Men. But we made nosongs
about it, being content to chant their beautiful names whenwe thought of the
Entwives. We believe that we may meet again ina time to come, and perhaps we
shall find somewhere a land wherewe can live together and both be content.
But it is foreboded thatthat will only be when we have both lost all that we
now have. Andit may well be that that time is drawing near at last. For if
Sauronof old destroyed the gardens, the Enemy today seenis likely to
witherall the woods.'There was an Elvish song that spoke of this, or at
least so I under-stand it. It used to be sung up and down the Great River.
It was neveran Entish song, mark you: it vrould have been a very long song
inEntish! But we know it by heart, and hum it now and again. This ishow
it runs in your tongue:ENT. When Spring unfolds the beechen leaf, and
sap is in thebough;When light is on the wild-wood stream, and wind is on
thebrow;When stride is long, and breath is deep, and keen the
moun-tain-air,Come back to me! Conle back to me, and say my land is
fair!ENTWIFE.When Spring is come to garth and field, and corn is in
thcblade;When blossom like a shining snow is on the orehard
laid;When shower and Sun upon the Earth with fragrance fill
theair,Iïll linger here, and will not come, because my land is
fair.ENT. When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of goldBeneath
the roof of sleeping leaves the åreams of trees unfold:When woodland hulls
are green and cool, and wind is in theWest,Come back to me! Come back to
me, and say my land is best!ENTWIFE.When Summer warms the hanging fruit and
burns the berrybrown;When straw is gold, and ear is white, and harvest
comes totown;When honey spills, and apple swells, though wind be in
thcWest,IïlI Iinger here beneath the Sun, because my land is
best!ENT. When Winter comes, the winter wild that hill and wood
shallslay;When trees shall fall and starless night devour the
sunlessday;When wind is in the deadly East, then in the bitter
rainIïll look for thee, and call to thee; Iïll come to thee
again!ENTWIFE.When Winter comes, und singing ends; when darkness fallsat
last;When broken is the barren bough, and light and Iabour past;Iïll
look for thee, and wait for thee, until we meet again:Together we will take
thc road beneath the bitter rain!BOTH. Together we will take the road that
leads into the West,And far away will find a land where both our hearts may
rest.ïTreebeard ended his song. 'That is how it goes,ï he said. 'It is
Elvish,of course: lighthearted, quickworded, and soon over. I daresay it
isfÔir enough. But the Ents could say more on their side, if they
hadtime! But now I am going to stand up and take a little sleep.
Wherewill you stand?ï'We usually lie down to sleep,ï said Merry. 'We
shall be all rightwhere we are.ï'Lie down to sleep!ï said Treebeard.
'Why of course you do! Hm,hoom: I was forgetting: singing that song put me
in mind of oldtimes; almost thought that 1 was talking to young Entings, I
did. Well,you can lie on the bed. I am going to stand in the rain. Good
night!ïMerry and Pippin climbed on to the bed and curled up in the
softgrass and fern. It was fresh, and sweet-scented, and warm. The
lightsdied down, and the glow of the trees faded; but outside under the
arehthey could see old Treebeard standing, motionless, with his arms
raisedabove his head. The bright stars peered out of the sky, and lit
thefalling water as it spilled on to his fingers and head, and
dripped,dripped, in hundreds of silver drops on to his feet. Listening to
thetinkling of the drops the hobbits fell asleep.They woke to find a
cool sun shining into the great court, and on tothe floor nf the bay. Shreds
of high cloud were overhead, running on astiff easterly wind. Treebeard was
not to be seen; but while Merry andPippin were bathing in the basin by the
areh, they heard him hummingand singing, as he came up the path between the
trees.'Hoo, ho! Good morning, Merry and Pippin!ï he boomed, whenhe saw
them. 'You sleep long. I have been many a hundred stridesalready today. Now
we will have a drink, and go to EntmOot.ïHe poured them out two full bowls
from a stone jar; but from adifferent jar. The taste was not the same as it
had been the nightbefore: it was earthier and richer, more sustaining and
food-like, soto speak. While the hobbits drank, sitting on the edge of the
bed, andnibbling small pieces of elf-cake (more because they felt that
eatingwas a necessary part of breakfast than because they felt
hungry),Treebeard stood, humming in Entish or Elvish or some strange
tongue,and looking up at the sky.'Where is Entmoot?ï Pippin ventured to
ask.'Hoo, eh? Entmoot?ï said Treebeard, turning round. 'It is not
aplace, it is a gathering of Ents-which does not often happen nowa-days.
But I have managed to make a fair number promise to come.We shall meet in
the place where we have always met: DerndingleMen call it. It is away south
from here. We must be there beforenoon.ïBefore long they set off.
Treebeard carried the hobbits in his armsas on the previous day. At the
entrance to the court he turned to theright, stepped over the stream, and
strode away southwards Ôlongthe feet of great tumbled slopes where trees
were scanty. Above thesethe hobbits saw thickets of birch and rowan, and
beyond them darkclimbing pinewoods. Soon Treebeard turned a little away from
thehills and plunged into deep groves, where the trees were larger,
taller,and thicker than any that the hobbits had ever seen before. For a
whilethey felt faintly the sense of stifling which they had noticed
whenthey first ventured into Fangorn, but it soon passed. Treebeard did
nottalk to them. He hummed to himself deeply and thoughtfully, butMerry
and Pippin caught no proper words: it sounded like boom,boom, rumboom,
boorar, boom boom, duhrar boom boom, dahrarboom, and so on with a constant
change of note and rhythm. Nowand again they thought they heard an answer, a
hum or a quiver ofsound, that seemed to come out of the earth, or from
boughs abovetheir heads, or perhaps from the boles of the trees; but
Treebeard didnot stop or turn his head to either side.They had been
going for a long while-Pippin had tried to keepcount of the 'ent-stridesï
but had failed, getting lost at about threethousand-when Treebeard began to
slacken his pace. Suddenly hestopped, put the hobbits down, and raised his
curled hands to his mouthso that they made a hollow tube; then he blew or
called through them.A great hoom, hom rang out like a deep-throated horn in
the woods,and seemed to echo from the trees. Far off there came from
severaldirections a similar hoom, hom, hoom that was not an echo but
ananswer.Treebeard now perched Merry and Pippin on his shoulders
andstrode on again, every now and then sending out another horn-call,and
each time the answers came louder and nearer. In this way theycame at last
to what looked like an impenetrable wall of dark ever-green trees, trees of
a kind that the hobbits had never seen before:they branched out right from
the roots, and were densely clad in darkglossy leaves like thornless holly,
and they bore many stitf uprightflower-spikes with large shining
olive-coloured buds.Turning to the left and skirting this huge hedge
Treebeard came in afew strides to a narrow entrance. Through it a worn path
passed anddived suddenly down a long steep slope. The hobbits saw that
theywere descending into a great dingle, almost as round as a bowl,
verywide and deep, crowned at the rim with the high dark evergreen
hedge.It was smooth and grassclad inside, and there were no trees
‚xceptthree very tall and beautiful silver-birches that stood at the
bottomof the bowl. Two other paths led down into the dingle: from
-thewest and from the east.Several Ents had already arrived. More were
coming in down theother paths, and some were now following Treebeard. As
they drewnear the hobbits gazed at them. They had expected to see a
numberof creatures as much like Treebeard as one hobbit is like
another(at any rate to a strangerïs eye); and they were very much
surprisedto see nothing of the kind. The Ents were as different from one
anotheras trees from trees: some as different as one tree is from another of
thesame name but quite different growth and history; and some as
dif-ferent as one tree-kind from another, as birch from beech; oak from
fir.There were a few older Ents, bearded and gnarled like hale but
ancienttrees (though none looked as ancient as Treebeard); and there
weretall stróng Ents, clean-limbed and smooth-skinned like forest-trees
intheir prime; but there were no young Ents, no saplings.
Altogetherthere were about two dozen standing on the wide grassy floor of
thedingle, and as many more were marching in.At first Merry and Pippin
were struck chiefly by the variety thatthey saw: the many shapes, and
colours, the differences in girth;and height, and length of leg and arm; and
in the number of toes andfingers (anything from three to nine). A few seemed
more or lessrelated to Treebeard, and reminded them of beech-trees or oaks.
Butthere were other kinds. Some recalled the chestnut: brown-skinnedEnts
with large splayfingered hands, and short thick legs. Some re-called the
ash: tall straight grey Ents with many-fingered hands andlong legs; some the
fr (the tallest Ents), and others the bireh, therowan, and the linden. But
when the Ents all gathered roundTreebeard, bowing their heads slightly,
murmuring in their slowmusical voices, and looking long and intently at the
strangers, thenthe hobbits saw that they were all of the same kindred, and
all hadthe same eyes: not all so old or so deep as Treebeardïs, but all
withthe same slow, steady, thoughtful expression, and the same
greenflicker.As soon as the whole company was assembled, standing in a
widecirele round Treebeard, a curious and unintelligible conversation
began.The Ents began to murmur slowly: first one joined and then
another,until they were all chanting together in a long rising and
fallingrhythm, now louder on one side of the ring, now dying away there
andrising to a great boom on the other side. Though he could not catehor
understand any of the words-he supposed the language was Entish-Pippin found
the sound very pleasant to listen to at first; but gradu-ally his attention
wavered. After a long time (and the chant showedno signs of slackening) he
found himself wondering, since Entish wassuch an 'unhastyï language, whether
they had yet got further thanGood Morning; and if Treebeard was to call the
roll, how many daysit would take to sing all their names. 'I wonder what the
Entish isfor yes or no,ï he thought. He yawned.Treebeard was immediately
aware of him. 'Hm, ha, hey, my Pippin!ïhe said, and the other Ents all
stopped their chant. 'You area hasty folk, I was forgetting; and anyway it
is wearisome listeningto a speech you do not understand. You may get down
now. I havetold your names to the Entmoot, and they have seen you, and
theyhave agreed that you are not Orcs, and that a new line shall be put
inthe old lists. We have got no further yet, but that is quick work
foran Entmoot. You and Merry can stroll about in the dingle, if you
like.There is a well of good water, if you need refreshing, away yonder
inthe north bank. There are still some words to speak before the
Mootreally begins. I will come and see you again, and tell you how
thingsare going.ïHe put the hobbits down. Before they walked away, they
bowedlow. This feat seemed to amuse the Ents very much, to judge bż
thetone of their murmurs, and the flicker of their eyes; but they
soonturned back to their own business. Merry and Pippin climbed up
thepath that came in from the west, and looked through the opening inthe
great hedge. Long tree-clad slopes rose from the lip of the dingle,and away
beyond them, above the fir-trees of the furthest ridge thererose, sharp and
white, the peak of a high mountain. Southwards totheir left they could see
the forest falling away down into the greydistance. There far away therc was
a palc grecn glimmer that Merryguessed to be a glirnpse of the plains of
Rohan.'I wonder where Isengard is?ï said Pippin.'I donït know quite
where we are,ï said Merry; 'but that peak isprobably Methedras. and as far
as I can remember the ring of Isengardlies in a fork or deep cleft at the
end of the mountains. It is probablydown behind this great ridge. There
seems to be a smoke or haze overthere, left of the peak, donït you
think?ï'What is Isengard like?ï said Pippin. 'I wonder what Ents can
doabout it anyway.ï'So do I,ï said Merry. 'Isengard is a sort of ring of
rocks or hills,1 think, with a flat space inside and an island or pillar of
rock in themiddle, called Orthanc. Saruman has a tower on it. There is a
gate,perhaps more than one, in the encireling wall, and I believe there is
astream running through it; it comes out of the mountains, and flowson
across the Gap of Rohan. It does not seem the sort of place forEnts to
tackle. But I have an odd feeling about these Ents: somehowI donït think
they are quite as safe and, well funny as they seem.They seem slow, queer,
and patient, almost sad; and yet I believethey could be roused. If that
happened, I would rather not be on theother side.ï'Yes!ï said Pippin. 'I
know what you mean. There might be all thedifference between an old cow
sitting and thoughtfully chewing, anda bull charging; and the change might
come suddenly. I wonder ifTreebeard will rouse them. I am sure he means to
try. But they donïtlike being roused. Treebeard got roused himself last
night, and thenbottled it up again.ïThe hobbits turned back. The voices
uf the Ents were still risingand falling in their conelave. The sun had now
risen high enoughto look over the high hedge: it gleamed on the tops of the
birehesand lit the northward side of the dingle with a cool yellow
light.There they saw a little glittering fountain. They walked along
therim of the great bowl at the feet of the evergreens-it was pleasant
tofeel cool grass about their toes again, and not to be in a
hurry-andthen they climbed down to the gushing water. They drank a little,
aclean, cold, sharp draught, and sat down on a mossy stone, watehingthe
patches of sun on the grass and the shadows of the sailing cloudspassing
over the floor of the dingle. The murmur of the Ents went on.lt seemed a
very strange and remote place, outside their world, andfar from everything
that had ever happened to them. A great longingcame over them for the faces
and voices of their companions. especi-ally for Frodo and Sam, and for
Strider.At last there came a pause in the Ent-voices; and looking up
theysaw Treebeard coming towards them. with another Ent at his side.'Hm,
hoom, here I am again,ï said Treebeard. 'Are you gettingweary, or feeling
impatient, hmm, eh? Well, I am afraid that youmust not get impatient yet. We
have finished the first stage now; butI have still got to explain things
again to those that live a long wayoff, far from Isengard, and those that I
could not get round to beforethe Moot, and after that we shall have to
decide what to do. However,deciding what to do does not take Ents so long as
going over allthe facts and events that they have to make up their minds
about. Still,it is no use denying, we shall be here a long time yet: a
couple ofdays very likely. So I have brought you a companion. He has an
ent-house nearby. Bregalad is his Elvish name. He says he has already
madeup his mind and does not need to remain at the Moot. Hm, hm, he
isthe nearest thing among us to a hasty Ent. You ought to get
ontogether. Good-bye!ï Treebeard turned and left them.Bregalad stood for
some time surveying the hobbits solemnly; andthey looked at him, wondering
when he would show any signs of'hastinessï. He was tall, and seemed to be
one of the younger Ents; hehad smooth shining skin on his arms and legs; his
lips were ruddy,and his hair was grey-green. He could bend and sway like a
slendertree in the wind. At last he spoke, and his voice though resonant
washigher and clearer than Treebeardïs.'Ha, hmm, my friends, let us go
for a walk!ï he said. 'I am Bregalad,that is Quickbeam in your language. But
it is only a nickname, ofcourse. They have called me that ever since I said
yes to an elder Entbefore he had finished his question. Also I drink
quickly, and go outwhile some are still wetting their beards. Come with
me!ïHe reached down two shapely arms and gave a long-fingered handto
each of the hobbits. All that day they walked about in the woodswith him,
singing, and laughing; for Quickbeam often laughed. Helaughed if the sun
came out from behind a cloud, he laughed if theycame upon a stream or
spring: then he stooped and splashed his feetand head with water; he laughed
sometimes at some sound or whisperin the trees. Whenever he saw a rowan-tree
he halted a while with hisarms stretched out, and sang, and swayed as he
sang.At nightfall he brought them to his ent-house: nothing more thana
mossy stone set upon turves under a green bank. Rowan-trees grewin a circle
about it, and there was water (as in all ent-houses), a springbubbling
out from the bank. They talked for a while as darkness fellon the forest.
Not far away the voices of the Entmcot could be heardstill going on; but now
they seemed deeper and less leisurely, and everynow and again one great
voice would rise in a high and quickeningmusic, while all the others died
away. But beside them Bregalad spokegently in their own tongue, almost
whispering; and they learnedthat he belonged to Skinbarkïs people, and the
country wherethey had lived had been ravaged. That seemed to the
hobbitsquite enough to explain his 'hastinessï, at least in the matter
ofOrcs.'There were rowan-trees in my home,ï said Bregalad, softly
andsadly, 'rowan-trees that took root when I was an Enting, many
manyyears ago in the quiet of the world. The oldest were planted by
theEnts to try and please the Entwives; but they looked at them
andsmiled and said that they knew where whiter blossom and richerfruit
were growing. Yet there are no trees of all that race, the peopleof the
Rose, that are so beautiful to me. And these trees grew andgrew, till the
shadow of each was like a green hall, and their red berriesin the autumn
were a burden, and a beauty and a wonder. Birds usedto flock there. I like
birds, even when they chatter; and the rowanhas enough and to spare. But the
birds became unfriendly and greedyand tore at the trees, and threw the fruit
down and did not eat it.Then Orcs came with axes and cut down my trees. I
came and calledthem by their long names, but they did not quiver, they did
not hearor answer: they lay dead.O OrofarnÓ, Lassemista,
CarnimériÓ!O rowan fair, upon your hair how white the blossom lay!O
rowan mine, I saw you shine upon a summerïs day,Your rind so bright, your
lenves so light, your voice so cool and soft:Upon your head how golden-red
the crown you bore aloft!O rowan dead, upon your head your hair is dry and
grey;Your crown is spilled, your voice is stilled for ever and a day.O
OrofarnÓ, Lassemistn, CarnimiriÓ!The hobbits fell asleep to the sound of
the soft singing of Bregalad,that seemed to lament in many tongues the fall
of trees that he hadloved.The next day they spent also in his
company, but they did not gofar from his 'houseï. Most of the time they sat
silent under the shelterof the bank; for the wind was colder, and the clouds
closer and greyer;there was little sunshine, and in the distance the voices
of the Ents atthe Moot still rose and fell, sometimes loud and strong,
sometimes lowand sad, sometimes quickening, sometimes slow and solemn as a
dirge.A second night came and still the Ents held conclave under
hurryingclouds and fitful stars.The third day broke, bleak and
windy. At sunrise the Entsï voicesrose to a great clamour and then died down
again. As the morningwore on the wind fell and the air grew heavy with
expectancy. Thehobbits could see that Bregalad was now listening intently,
althoughto them, down in the dell of his ent-house, the sound of the Moot
wasfaint.The afternoon came, and the sun, going west towards the
moun-tains. sent out long yellow beams between the cracks and fissures
ofthe clouds. Suddenly they were aware that everything was veryquiet;
the whole forest stood in listening silence. Of course, the Ent-voices had
stopped. What did that mean? Bregalad was standing uperect and tense,
looking back northwards towards Derndingle.Then with a crash came a great
ringing shout: ra-hoom-rah! Thetrees quivered and bent as if a gust had
struck them. There was anotherpause, and then a marching music began like
solemn drums, and abovethe rolling beats and booms there welled voices
singing high andstrong.We come, we come with roll of drum: ta-runda
runda runda rum!The Ents were coming: ever nearer and louder rose their
song:We come, we come with horn and drum: ta-rÅšna rÅšna rÅšna
rom!Bregalad picked up the hobbits and strode from his
house.Before long they saw the marching line approaching: the Ents
wereswinging along with great strides down the slope towards them.
Tree-beard was at their head, and some fifty followers were behind
him.two abreast, keeping step with their feet and beating time with
theirhands upon their flanks. As they drew near the flash and flicker of
theireyes could be seen.'Hoom, hom! Here we come with a boom, here
we come at last!ïcalled Treebeard when he caught sight of Bregalad and the
hobbits.'Come, join the Moot! We are off. We are off to Isengard!ï'To
Isengard!ï the Ents cried in many voices.'To Isengard!ïTo Isengard!
Though Isengard he ringed and barred with doors ofstone;Though Isengard
be strong and hard, as cold as stone and bare asbone,We go, we go, we go
to war, to hew the stone and break the door;For bole and bough are burning
now, the furnace roars--we go towar!To land of ploom with tramp of doom,
with roll of drum, we come,we come;To Isengard with doom we
come!With doom we come, with doom we come!So they sang as they
marched southwards.Bregalad, his eyes shining, swung into the line
beside Treebeard. Theold Ent now took the hobbits back, and set them on his
shouldersagain, and so they rode proudly at the head of the sin ng
companywith beating hearts and heads held high. Though they ad
expectedsomething to happen eventually, they were amazed at the change
thathad come over the Ents. It seemed now as sudden as the bursting of
aflood that had long been held back by a dike.'The Ents made up their
minds rather quickly, after all, didnïtthey?ï Pippin ventured to say after
some time, when for a moment thesinging paused, and only the beating of
hands and feet was heard.'Quickly?ï said Treebeard. 'Hoom! Yes, indeed.
Quicker than Iexpected. Indeed I have not seen them roused like this for
many anage. We Ents do not like being roused; and we never are
rousedunless it is clear to us that our trees and our lives are in great
danger.That has not happened in this Forest since the wars of Sauron and
theMen of the Sea. It is the orc-work, the wanton hewing-rÔrum-without
even the bad excuse of feeding the fires, that has so angeredus; and the
treachery of a neighbour, who should have helped us.Wizards ought to know
better: they do know better. There is nocurse in Elvish, Entish, or the
tongues of Men bad enough for suchtreachery. Down with Saruman!ï'Will
you really break the doors of Isengard?ï asked Merry.'Ho, hm, well, we
could, you know! You do not know, perhaps.how strong we are. Maybe you have
heard of Trolls? They are mightystrong. But Trolls are only counterfeits.
made by the Enemy in theGreat Darkness, in mockery of Ents, as Orcs were of
Elves. We arestronger than Trolls. We are made of the bones of the earth. We
cansplit stone like the roots of trees, only quicker, far quicker, if
ourminds are roused! If we are not hewn down, or destroyed by fire
orblast of sorcery, we could split Isengard into splinters and crack
itswalls into rubble.ï'But Saruman will try to stop you. wonït
he?ï'Hm. ah, yes, that is so. I have not- forgotten it. Indeed I
havethought long about it. But. you see, many of the Ents are
youngerthan I am. by many lives of trees. They are all roused now. and
theirmind is all on one thing: breaking Isengard. But they will
startthinking again before Inng; they will cool down a little. when
wetake our evening drink. What a thirst we shall have! But let themmarch
now and sing! We have a long way to go, and there is timeahead for thought.
It is something to have started.ïTreebeard marched on, singing with the
others for a while. Butafter a time his voice died to a murmur and fell
silent again. Pippincould see that his old brow was wrinkled and knotted. At
last helooked up, and Pippin could see a sad look in his eyes, sad but
notunhappy. There was a light in them, as if the green flame had
sunkdeeper into the dark wells of his thought.'Of course, it is likely
enough, my friends,ï he said slowly, 'likelyenough that we are going to our
doom: the last march of the Ents.But if we stayed at horne and did nothing,
doom would find us any-way, sooner or later. That thought has long been
growing in ourhearts; and that is why we are marching now. It was not a
hastyresolve. Now at least the last march of the Ents may be worth a
song.Aye,ï he sighed, 'we may help the other peoples before we pass
away.Still, I should have liked to see the songs come true about the
Entwives.I should dearly have liked to see Fimbrethil again. But there,
myfriends, songs like trees bear fruit only in their own time and
theirown way: and sometimes they are withered untimely.ïThe Ents
went striding on at a great pace. They had descended intoa long fold of the
land that fell away southward; now they beganto climb up, and up, on to the
high western ridge. The woods fellaway and they came to scattered groups of
birch, and then to bareslopes where only a few gaunt pine-trees grew. The
sun sank behindthe dark hill-back in front. Grey dusk fell.Pippin looked
behind. The number of the Ents had grown-orwhat was happening? Where the dim
bare slopes that they hadcrossed should lie, he thought he saw groves of
trees. But they weremoving! Could it be that the trees of Fangorn were
awake, and theforest was rising, marching over the hills to war? He rubbed
his eyeswondering if sleep and shadow had deceived him; but the great
greyshapes moved steadily onward. There was a noise like wind in
manybranches. The Ents were drawing near the crest of the ridge now,and
all song had ceased. Night fell, and there was silence: nothing wasto be
heard save a faint quive~ of the earth beneath the feet of theEnts, and a
rustle, the shade of a whisper as of many drifting leaves.At last they stood
upon the summit, and looked down intn a dark pit:the great cleft at the end
of the mountains: Nan Curunér, the Valleyof Saruman.'Night lies over
Isengard,ï said Treebeard.


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