|
Cook and Benat
Cook listened quietly as the man spoke. Mister Bilbo’s adventure had come to her in dribbles and drabbles she recalled. Mostly stories from the older Hobbits, and it was difficult to separate the facts from the fiction. And to be honest, much of the ‘fact’ seemed like grand storytelling themselves. Wolves and Eagles, goblins and murderous spiders. And treasure . . . and above all, a Dragon with fiery breath, jeweled scales, and great claws and teeth and vast wings. And the ring, of course, found in the deep cave . . . the magic ring . . . the one that brought all the trouble later for Mister Frodo.
‘I won’t pretend to know the answer to your question of what happened to Mister Bilbo on his adventure. Though bits and pieces have woven themselves into the memory of the Shire, there is much of the story he never told us.’
Benat’s face, at first hopeful, now looked crestfallen once again.
‘He never told us outright, I should say. And what he did say has got all twisted up in the telling. Sorry to say many of my relatives thought kindly of the old fellow, but also figured him for an odd duck . . . what with his wanderings and all.’ She leaned forward, looking Benat in the eye. ‘You did know his nephew caught the adventuring bug. Went off with the same wizard and that ring his uncle found. And I think I heard there was a Dwarf with him, too. And one or two of the Fair Folk. A spider was in there somewhere, and the eagles. Very strange family, the Baggins . . . with respect to their travels.’ ‘But for the most part, kindly thought of,’ she pronounced.
Cook rubbed her chin in a considering manner. ‘You know,’ she said, nodding her head as the thought came to her. ‘there is someone I could introduce you to. His name is Sam . . . Samwise Gamgee. He’s our Mayor. Traveled with Mister Frodo. Now I know he has a book, that Mister Bilbo started and Mister Frodo continued. And I’m pretty sure it tells of their adventures.’ She nodded her head again. ‘You spend the night here . . . I think we can fit you into one of our large rooms . . . put two mattresses together on the floor; that oughta do it. Then tomorrow, I’ll send a note up to Mister Sam, telling him about you, and asking if I can bring you up. What do you say to that?’
|