[Birdland]

“…Outsiders were a rustic, not to say…uncivilized lot, and not held in much account. There were probably a good many more of them scattered about in the West of the world in those days than people in the Shire imagined, though many were indeed no better than tramps or wanderers, ready to dig a rough hold in any bank, and stay only as long as it suited them.”

As is often the case, the Red Book got it half right. There were many halflings scattered throughout Middle Earth at the time of the Shire’s founding, and most were a wandering people. Long ago Harfoots had given up the struggle of having permanent settlements. Their needs and the needs of Men were much the same, and when there was competition for these needs, the stronger, more forceful Men (almost) always won. The Hobbits found safety in retreat, and never staying in one place too long.

But to say that they could dig a “rough hole” whenever they stopped for the night was a misconception. Hobbits are clever diggers, but the are not badgers or moles. These holes were actually an ancient system of well-hid resting places, created and maintained down through the ages, stretching from the North Vales clear down to the Ered Nimrais. They were free for any Hobbit to use, for as long as was needed. Though not for too long.

It was to such a hole that Ceo and Fina returned from their day of foraging. It was set into an embankment, screened from below by a grove of trees, with a natural “porch” of a shallow cave, and a cozy hole dug into and supported by the roots of a massive old oak. Farther up the hill, hidden by a grove of trees, was a very well hidden secret exit.

Fina and Ceo climbed nimbly up to the “Porch“ and found the family gathered outside the hole to enjoy the last of the waning light. Their father, Ruddoc, looked up from his task of smoothing and straightening a length of yew sapling. “Well, it’s about time you two showed up. Getting pretty late, wasn‘t it?”

“We’re sorry Da. But we’ve brought plenty home. Look! Two conies with my sling! Oh, and Fina found plenty, too. Even mushrooms. What are you working on, Da? Can I see?”

Ruddoc’s eyes twinkled as he gave a mock scowl. “And did you think to bring some water for your Ma?”

“What, Da? I can’t carry water in my pockets, now can I? What are you doing, Osle? You’re making arrowheads, aren’t you.” Ceo’s eyes lighted up and he ran to his older brother. “You and Da are making my bow and arrows, aren’t you! Please, can I see? Can I help? I’ve been working on my quiver for a month now. Do you need it? Wait, I’ll go get it so you can get the shafts right.” He started to run to the hole, but Osle grabbed his arm and thrust a water skin into it. “Water first, then you can help. Ma and Avice have to get started on supper, and I have to skin those conies if we’re going to get anything to eat tonight. Now get going.” Osle looked up at the sinking sun. “We won‘t be able to work out here much longer, so hurry.”

Ceo grabbed the water skin and went running down the hill to a nearby spring. Fina finished unloading her basket, and said “Da, can I use your knife to cut up roots? I promise to be careful.” Ruddoc took a small, precious blade from his belt and handed it to his daughter. It was steel, a gift given to him long ago by one of the Big Folk, of all things. A lonely widow on a small croft, her man gone to war, never to return.

Ruddoc, out of pity, had offered to do such work as he could for her for a week or two in return for some food. She had given him the knife as a parting gift of thanks. When Ruddoc passed by the area again a year later, the widow was gone, and the farm in ruins.

Fina took the knife and sat down next to Avice, but first stopped to bend over the basket at Avice’s side. “Pretty Lianth,” she cooed to the baby in the basket, barely three weeks old. This was the reason the family had stayed at the cliff hole for over a month. Lianth was Avice’s and Osle’s first child. “Oh, Avice, can I hold her?”

“I just got her to sleep, Fina. Come, sit by me and your Ma and tell us of your day and what you saw.” Fina settled between the Avice and her mother, Enid, as they began to prepare the greens and roots that she had brought home. “Ma, can I have Ceo’s sling when Da finishes his bow? Mine’s all frayed, and Ceo won’t want his, now that he has a real hunting weapon.“

“You shall have a new one, Fina-Bird. You’re as good with a sling as your brother, and I shall make you a new belt to hang it from. But can we please get supper on first“?

So the family settled into its evening chores, telling the small tales of their day, and singing ancient songs in soft voices.

Two hours after the sun was down, they had all gone into the hole in the side of the hill, and were fast asleep.

[ September 01, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]