[alaklondewen]

As the longs hours of the day wore thin, the hills also became smaller and farther apart. The troop of settlers bumped along the road in their wagons or carts, some rode ponies, while others braved the journey on foot. For the last three hours the hobbits could see the great old forest looming ahead of them. The tops of the old trees were still lit, if not for long, by the waning sun, but under their boughs only shadows played. The merry voices that had once been singing of safety and joy were now silent as the travelers came slowly down the last slope. On their right, the embankments rose steadily creating the North Downs, and on the left, the great trees reached almost to the road. They were to trudge on between the two heights on a small road that to some looked like a long, dimly lit corridor that curved around the trees and out of sight.

Marcho handed the reins over to Estella so he could jog ahead a short distance to look over the area. Just ahead was a spot where the trees were back away from the road and the grass was worn thin most likely by other scouts and travelers who used the location for a campsite. It appeared someone had been there in the last day. A heap of ashes laid in the large pit dug in the center of the site. The pit was lined with a circle of large round stones.

Marcho knelt close to the ground around the fire pit. Scattered footprints were slightly muddled, but it was clear that the feet to which they belonged were shoed. With most of the day’s light gone it was difficult to be sure, but by the size and shape of the prints, Marcho guessed that two, maybe three, Big Folk had cooked and rested here. This did not surprise the hobbit because he knew of a small village of Big Folk just up the road and over a hill.

The band was approaching, so Marcho stepped in front of their path waving his arms vigorously over his head. The convoy came to a halt, and the scout directed those with wagons and carts to pull their vehicles around and form a semi-circle surrounding the clearing. This would provide them with a sort of protection from that side of the country…the forest would lend itself as a shelter from behind.

“This will be our camp for tonight.” Marcho called to the settlers. “Tonight we will build a communal fire and share and fellowship for the first time on our trip. We will need water from the small stream across the road, and we will need firewood, enough to last the night. I will not be able to carry it all myself, so I need extra arms. Who will go into the forest with me to gather the timber?”

“I’ll give a hand, Marcho.” Kalimac Whitfoot stepped over and laid his hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder.

“You won’t catch me within twenty feet of that…queer woods!” Marcho shook his head at Fredigar, who had stepped out of the group with his arms folded across his chest.

“Alright then, anyone more courageous than our valiant Fred? We must have fire for the night will grow cold.”

“You can count me in!” In stepped Sarah Chubb who looked sideways at Fred as she strode toward Marcho. Several chuckles were heard from the crowd and Fredigar huffed back to his wagon, clearly outraged by the suggestion that this female participant was braver than he. He still did not volunteer, only mumbling to himself and kicking some rocks around in his anger.

Sarah’s husband silently joined the group along with three other stout hobbits. The scout turned toward the wood, letting the others follow close behind. The hobbits could barely see as they stepped under the eaves of the great trees. The forest was filled with an eerie silence.