The Hobbit Page #2

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of their small hobbit dragon slayer.

"Perhaps he might prove useful after

all. ", thought Thorin Oakenshield.

Then, suddenly, Bilbo was gone.

Down through a crevice,

with a soundless scream,

...as the others trudged on.

Down past the chewed rock tunnels

of the hateful grablins, who

kill and eat only for spite.

Down to the roots of the mountain.

Down, to where there

is none but... Gollum.

Unremembered years before, a weak

and rejected creature found...

what Gandalf the Grey still seeks:

The One Ring of Power.

He had crept into the inky

depths to hide it here,

on this black island where

the hobbit had now fallen.

And he had cringed with his

ring alone in the dark so long,

that he could speak only to

his miserable self: Gollum.

What horrid little nasty has come

to steal our ring, my preciouss,

we must squeeze it till it dies, yess,

we doesn't let it take

our dearest ring, gollum!

Bilbo did have the ring.

Magically the One Ring of Power

had found it's true bearer,

it was Bilbo Baggins the hobbit.

He felt the ring's power that it might

help him against the dragon Slag.

Bilbo made a mighty leap

on his broad hobbit feet,

clear to the shore, and darted up the

nearest tunnel as fast as he could go.

"Curse him and crush

him!", went Gollum,

"We must catch the tricksy thief

before it reaches the outside. "

And the wretched thing

waddled right past Bilbo,

who of course didn't

know the way out,

but who guessed that Gollum did.

And Gollum led him to the only

tunnel unknown to the evil grablins.

and directly into the

blessed sunlight.

So Bilbo was able to

rejoin his companions,

who had crossed the tops

of the mountains,

and they faced together the next

obstacle on their long journey,

Mirkwood Forest.

Entering Mirkwood was like

plunging into a sea of trees,

and being unable

to come up for air.

An eternal, endless forest, whose mists

were as poisonous as its vegetation.

The four travelers were

starved and exhausted,

but they pushed on,

compulsively determined

to bring themselves to the

most hideous danger of all:

Lonely Mountain, wherein

lay the killer dragon Slag.

There he lay, the vast,

red-gold dragon,

fast asleep in this immense hall that

once was the jewel mine of Dale.

Ironically Slag had dragged

these same jewels,

from the treasury of the

Golden City he destroyed,

back to the very place

of their origin.

As Bilbo looked out on this stupendous

scene of both beauty and ugliness,

his feelings too were a swirling

mixture of exhilaration and horror.

Then, out of the staggering panorama

of gems, he suddenly saw only one:

It was the Arkenstone,

the Arkenstone of Dale.

now the tiny hobbit knew exactly

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