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About
four
days
from
the
enchanted
stream
they
came
to
a
part
where
most
of
the
trees
were
beeches
.
They
were
at
first
inclined
to
be
cheered
by
the
change
,
for
here
there
was
no
undergrowth
and
the
shadow
was
not
so
deep
.
There
was
a
greenish
light
about
them
,
and
in
places
they
could
see
some
distance
to
either
side
of
the
path
.
Yet
the
light
only
showed
them
endless
lines
of
straight
grey
trunks
like
the
pillars
of
some
huge
twilight
hall
.
There
was
a
breath
of
air
and
a
noise
of
wind
,
but
it
had
a
sad
sound
.
A
few
leaves
came
rustling
down
to
remind
them
that
outside
autumn
was
coming
on
.
Their
feet
ruffled
among
the
dead
leaves
of
countless
other
autumns
that
drifted
over
the
banks
of
the
path
from
the
deep
red
carpets
of
the
forest
.
Still
Bombur
slept
and
they
grew
very
weary
.
At
times
they
heard
disquieting
laughter
.
Sometimes
there
was
singing
in
the
distance
too
.
The
laughter
was
the
laughter
of
fair
voices
not
of
goblins
,
and
the
singing
was
beautiful
,
but
it
sounded
eerie
and
strange
,
and
they
were
not
comforted
,
rather
they
hurried
on
from
those
parts
with
what
strength
they
had
left
.
Two
days
later
they
found
their
path
going
downwards
and
before
long
they
were
in
a
valley
filled
almost
entirely
with
a
mighty
growth
of
oaks
.
"
Is
there
no
end
to
this
accursed
forest
?
"
said
Thorin
.
"
Somebody
must
climb
a
tree
and
see
if
he
can
get
his
head
above
the
roof
and
have
a
look
round
.
The
only
way
is
to
choose
the
tallest
tree
that
overhangs
the
path
.
"
Of
course
"
somebody
"
meant
Bilbo
.
They
chose
him
because
to
be
of
any
use
the
climber
must
get
his
head
above
the
topmost
leaves
,
and
so
he
must
be
light
enough
for
the
highest
and
slenderest
branches
to
bear
him
.
Poor
Mr.
Baggins
had
never
had
much
practice
in
climbing
trees
,
but
they
hoisted
him
up
into
the
lowest
branches
of
an
enormous
oak
that
grew
right
out
into
the
path
,
and
up
he
had
to
go
as
best
he
could
.
He
pushed
his
way
through
the
tangled
twigs
with
many
a
slap
in
the
eye
;
he
was
greened
and
grimed
from
the
old
bark
of
the
greater
boughs
;
more
than
once
he
slipped
and
caught
himself
just
in
time
;
and
at
last
,
after
a
dreadful
struggle
in
a
difficult
place
where
there
seemed
to
be
no
convenient
branches
at
all
,
he
got
near
the
top
.
All
the
time
he
was
wondering
whether
there
were
spiders
in
the
tree
,
and
how
he
was
going
to
get
down
again
(
except
by
falling
)
.
In
the
end
he
poked
his
head
above
the
roof
of
leaves
,
and
then
he
found
spiders
all
right
.
But
they
were
only
small
ones
of
ordinary
size
,
and
they
were
after
the
butterflies
.
Bilbo
's
eyes
were
nearly
blinded
by
the
light
.
He
could
hear
the
dwarves
shouting
up
at
him
from
far
below
,
but
he
could
not
answer
,
only
hold
on
and
blink
.
The
sun
was
shining
brilliantly
,
and
it
was
a
long
while
before
he
could
bear
it
.
When
he
could
,
he
saw
all
round
him
a
sea
of
dark
green
,
ruffled
here
and
there
by
the
breeze
;
and
there
were
everywhere
hundreds
of
butterflies
.
I
expect
they
were
a
kind
of
'
purple
emperor
,
'
a
butterfly
that
loves
the
tops
of
oak-woods
,
but
these
were
not
purple
at
all
,
they
were
a
dark
dark
velvety
black
without
any
markings
to
be
seen
.
He
looked
at
the
'
black
emperors
'
for
a
long
time
,
and
enjoyed
the
feel
of
the
breeze
in
his
hair
and
on
his
face
;
but
at
length
the
cries
of
the
dwarves
,
who
were
now
simply
stamping
with
impatience
down
below
,
reminded
him
of
his
real
business
.
It
was
no
good
.
Gaze
as
much
as
he
might
,
he
could
see
no
end
to
the
trees
and
the
leaves
in
any
direction
.
His
heart
,
that
had
been
lightened
by
the
sight
of
the
sun
and
the
feel
of
the
wind
,
sank
back
into
his
toes
:
there
was
no
food
to
go
back
to
down
below
.
Actually
,
as
I
have
told
you
,
they
were
not
far
off
the
edge
of
the
forest
;
and
if
Bilbo
had
had
the
sense
to
see
it
,
the
tree
that
he
had
climbed
,
though
it
was
tall
in
itself
,
was
standing
near
the
bottom
of
a
wide
valley
,
so
that
from
its
top
the
trees
seemed
to
swell
up
all
round
like
the
edges
of
a
great
bowl
,
and
he
could
not
expect
to
see
how
far
the
forest
lasted
.
Still
he
did
not
see
this
,
and
he
climbed
down
full
of
despair
.
He
got
to
the
bottom
again
at
last
scratched
,
hot
,
and
miserable
,
and
he
could
not
see
anything
in
the
gloom
below
when
he
got
there
.
His
report
soon
made
the
others
as
miserable
as
he
was
.
"
The
forest
goes
on
for
ever
and
ever
and
ever
in
all
directions
!
Whatever
shall
we
do
?
And
what
is
the
use
of
sending
a
hobbit
!
"
they
cried
,
as
if
it
was
his
fault
.
They
did
not
care
tuppence
about
the
butterflies
,
and
were
only
made
more
angry
when
he
told
them
of
the
beautiful
breeze
,
which
they
were
too
heavy
to
climb
up
and
feel
.
That
night
they
ate
their
very
last
scraps
and
crumbs
of
food
;
and
next
morning
when
they
woke
the
first
thing
they
noticed
was
that
they
were
still
gnawingly
hungry
,
and
the
next
thing
was
that
it
was
raining
and
that
here
and
there
the
drip
of
it
was
dropping
heavily
on
the
forest
floor
.
That
only
reminded
them
that
they
were
also
parchingly
thirsty
,
without
doing
anything
to
relieve
them
:
you
can
not
quench
a
terrible
thirst
by
standing
under
giant
oaks
and
waiting
for
a
chance
drip
to
fall
on
your
tongue
.
The
only
scrap
of
comfort
there
was
,
came
unexpectedly
from
Bombur
.
He
woke
up
suddenly
and
sat
up
scratching
his
head
.
He
could
not
make
out
where
he
was
at
all
,
nor
why
he
felt
so
hungry
;
for
he
had
forgotten
everything
that
had
happened
since
they
started
their
journey
that
May
morning
long
ago
.
The
last
thing
that
he
remembered
was
the
party
at
the
hobbit
's
house
,
and
they
had
great
difficulty
in
making
him
believe
their
tale
of
all
the
many
adventures
they
had
had
since
.
When
he
heard
that
there
was
nothing
to
eat
,
he
sat
down
and
wept
,
for
he
felt
very
weak
and
wobbly
in
the
legs
.
"
Why
ever
did
I
wake
up
!
"
he
cried
.
"
I
was
having
such
beautiful
dreams
.
I
dreamed
I
was
walking
in
a
forest
rather
like
this
one
,
only
lit
with
torches
on
the
trees
and
lamps
swinging
from
the
branches
and
fires
burning
on
the
ground
;
and
there
was
a
great
feast
going
on
,
going
on
for
ever
.
