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Marcho had pulled out his roughly sketched map at the request of Ponto Bracegirdle, and now several of the gentlehobbits stood over the parchment while the scout traced the expected route with his finger.
“We will be out of these hills by late this afternoon, and we’ll set our first camp around here. The forest should provide some protection from the wind which will be stronger once we walk on flatter terrain.” The other hobbits hung on to each of Marcho’s words, and they nodded in agreement as though each of them had traveled the distance many times in the past.
“Well, I heard that forest is bit strange, even a little eerie,” Fredigar Headstrong, who is never confused by the facts, squinted and leaned toward Marcho in an almost accusatory fashion. “Well, is it? You ain’t leadin’ us into some kind of unnatural place, are you?”
“That’s nonsense, Fred…I’ve been through this area more times than I can count on my fingers, and there is nothing…unnatural about that forest.” As he spoke, Marcho kept his eyes lowered onto the map. When he did raise his head to meet the Headstrong hobbit’s gaze, he wore a smirk. “Why Freddy boy, I think you’ve been listening to too many child’s stories.” The other hobbits chuckled and poked fun at Fredigar until he turned crimson. Marcho, in the meantime, carefully folded his map and tucked it safely into his pack. “Time’s a-wasting, fellas. Let’s get back on the road.”
Picking up his pack, the middle-aged hobbit strode the center of the band and blew a shrill whistle through his teeth. “We have a long road ahead of us…Keep your packs and baskets close for we will not stop until our camp tonight.” The last of his words caused many of the travelers to groan and loudly complain. Marcho held his hands up as a signal for silence. “I understand you are tired, but we must keep moving as long as we can.”
With that, the scout turned from his followers and helped his wife gather the lunch supplies. Everyone did the same and soon the band was moving slowing up the road. Estella tried to keep spirits high as she sang sweetly from the front of the wagon. Several others riding close behind joined her. Marcho just kept quiet with his eyes on the road, a silent grin had replaced the stern frown that had been there earlier, and before he knew it, his foot was tapping with the rhythm.
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