<font face="Verdana"><table><TR><TD><FONT SIZE="1" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Hobbitus Emeritus
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What Taradan Saw...
The black haired rider crept as quietly as he could to where the strange men had made camp. Their language seemed uncouth as it came to his ears, filled with harsh words and sometimes animal like noices. Taradan crept closer.
He saw them sitting around the fire sharing a dinner carved from a goat they had been roasting. They were rude and noisy. Each of them was armed with a spear. Two or three of the dozen had swords. The rest may have had some short blades or long knives handy, for quiet a few were employed in the dismemberment of the goat.
There may have been bows present as well. There were no sentries that Taradan could see, and all the attention of the crude camp was on the goat and who could get what of it.
The black-haired rider had no idea what was being said in their speech. But they seemed nasty enough. Most of them were bronzed from a life spent out of doors, but some were sallow in complexion, and had squinting leering eyes.
Taradan decided to return. He saw that his own comrades were no more alert than the strange men he had seen. He came silently into the camp and surprised them, arguing over horse treats, such as were made for Gondor's stables.
He looked suspiciously at Thenamir, and then told them all of what he had seen.
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