The Hobbit

Then we have been in needless fear—and the treasure is ours!” They all sprang up
     and began to caper about for joy.
    “Yes, dead,” said Roäc. “The thrush, may his feathers never fall, saw him die, and we may trust his words. He saw him fall
     in battle with the men of Esgaroth the third night back from now at the rising of the moon.”
    It was some time before Thorin could bring the dwarves to be silent and listen to the raven’s news. At length when he had
     told all the tale of the battle he went on:
    “So much for joy, Thorin Oakenshield. You may go back to your halls in safety; all the treasure is yours—for the moment. But
     many are gathering hither beside the birds. The news of the death of the guardian has already gone far and wide, and the legend of the wealth of Thror has not lost in the telling during many
     years; many are eager for a share of the spoil. Already a host of the elves is on the way, and carrion birds are with them
     hoping for battle and slaughter. By the lake men murmur that their sorrows are due to the dwarves; for they are homeless and
     many have died, and Smaug has destroyed their town. They too think to find amends from your treasure, whether you are alive
     or dead.
    “Your own wisdom must decide your course; but thirteen is small remnant of the great folk of Durin that once dwelt here, and
     now are scattered far. If you will listen to my counsel, you will not trust the Master of the Lake-men, but rather him that
     shot the dragon with his bow. Bard is he, of the race of Dale, of the line of Girion; he is a grim man but true. We would
     see peace once more among dwarves and men and elves after the long desolation; but it may cost you dear in gold. I have spoken.”
    Then Thorin burst forth in anger: “Our thanks, Roäc Carc’s son. You and your people shall not be forgotten. But none of our
     gold shall thieves take or the violent carry off while we are alive. If you would earn our thanks still more, bring us news
     of any that draw near. Also I would beg of you, if any of you are still young and strong of wing, that you would send messengers
     to our kin in the mountains of the North, both west from here and east, and tell them of our plight. But go specially to my
     cousin Dain in the Iron Hills, for he has many people well-armed, and dwells nearest to this place. Bid him hasten!”
    “I will not say if this counsel be good or bad,” croaked Roäc, “but I will do what can be done.” Then off he slowly flew.
    “Back now to the Mountain!” cried Thorin. “We have little time to lose.”
    “And little food to use!” cried Bilbo, always practical on such points. In any case he felt that the adventure was, properly
     speaking, over with the death of the dragon—in which he was much mistaken—and he would have given most of his share of the
     profits for the peaceful winding up of these affairs.
    “Back to the Mountain!” cried the dwarves as if they had not heard him; so back he had to go with them.
    As you have heard some of the events already, you will see that the dwarves still had some days before them. They explored
     the caverns once more, and found, as they expected, that only the Front Gate remained open; all the other gates (except, of
     course, the small secret door) had long ago been broken and blocked by Smaug, and no sign of them remained. So now they began
     to labour hard in fortifying the main entrance, and in making a new path that led from it. Tools were to be found in plenty
     that the miners and quarriers and builders of old had used; and at such work the dwarves were still very skilled.
    As they worked the ravens brought them constant tidings. In this way they learned that the Elvenking had turned aside to the
     Lake, and they still had a breathing space. Better still, they heard that three of their ponies had escaped and were wandering
     wild far down the banks of the Running River, not far from where the rest of their stores had been left. So while the others went on with their work, Fili and Kili were sent, guided
     by a raven, to find the ponies and bring back all they could.
    They were four days gone, and by that time they knew that the joined armies of the Lake-men and the Elves were hurrying toward
     the Mountain. But now their hopes were higher; for they had food for some weeks with care—chiefly
cram
, of course, and they were very tired of it; but
cram
is much better than nothing—and already the gate was blocked with a