[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

I'd do what I always do: wander off in whichever direction seemed best. Chances are that I'd end up as a very rear guard for the running party though: *four hundred yards from the landing, he stops* "Hang on, lads; I'm knackered." *deftly rolls an extremely suspicious cigarette and produces a battered Ronson* "I'll catch up with you in a minute".