The Hobbit

might be worse, and then again it might be a good deal better. No ponies, and no food, and no knowing
     quite where we are, and hordes of angry goblins just behind! On we go!”
    On they went. Gandalf was quite right: they began to hear goblin noises and horrible cries far behind in the passages they
     had come through. That sent them on faster than ever, and as poor Bilbo could not possibly go half as fast—for dwarves can
     roll along at a tremendous pace, I can tell you, when they have to—they took it in turn to carry him on their backs.
    Still goblins go faster than dwarves, and these goblins knew the way better (they had made the paths themselves), and were
     madly angry; so that do what they could the dwarves heard the cries and howls getting closer and closer. Soon they could hear
     even the flap of the goblin feet, many many feet which seemed only just round the last corner. The blink of red torches could
     be seen behind them in the tunnel they were following; and they were getting deadly tired.
    “Why, O why did I ever leave my hobbit-hole!” said poor Mr. Baggins bumping up and down on Bombur’s back.
    “Why, O why did I ever bring a wretched little hobbit on a treasure hunt!” said poor Bombur, who was fat, and staggered along
     with the sweat dripping down his nose in his heat and terror.
    At this point Gandalf fell behind, and Thorin with him. They turned a sharp corner. “About turn!” he shouted. “Draw your sword
     Thorin!”
    There was nothing else to be done; and the goblins did not like it. They came scurrying round the corner in full cry, and
     found Goblin-cleaver, and Foe-hammer shining cold and bright right in their astonished eyes. The ones in front dropped their
     torches and gave one yell before they were killed. The ones behind yelled still more, and leaped back knocking over those
     that were running after them. “Biter and Beater!” they shrieked; and soon they were all in confusion, and most of them were
     hustling back the way they had come.
    It was quite a long while before any of them dared to turn that corner. By that time the dwarves had gone on again, a long,
     long, way on into the dark tunnels of the goblins’ realm. When the goblins discovered that, they put out their torches and
     they slipped on soft shoes, and they chose out their very quickest runners with the sharpest ears and eyes. These ran forward,
     as swift as weasels in the dark, and with hardly any more noise than bats.
    That is why neither Bilbo, nor the dwarves, nor even Gandalf heard them coming. Nor did they see them. But they were seen
     by the goblins that ran silently up behind, for Gandalf was letting his wand give out a faint light to help the dwarves as
     they went along.
    Quite suddenly Dori, now at the back again carrying Bilbo, was grabbed from behind in the dark. He shouted and fell; and the
     hobbit rolled off his shoulders into the blackness, bumped his head on hard rock, and remembered nothing more.

Chapter
V
RIDDLES IN THE DARK
    When Bilbo opened his eyes, he wondered if he had; for it was just as dark as with them shut. No one was anywhere near him.
     Just imagine his fright! He could hear nothing, see nothing, and he could feel nothing except the stone of the floor.
    Very slowly he got up and groped about on all fours, till he touched the wall of the tunnel; but neither up nor down it could
     he find anything: nothing at all, no sign of goblins, no sign of dwarves. His head was swimming, and he was far from certain
     even of the direction they had been going in when he had his fall. He guessed as well as he could, and crawled along for a
     good way, till suddenly his hand met what felt like a tiny ring of cold metal lying on the floor of the tunnel. It was a turning
     point in his career, but he did not know it. He put the ring in his pocket almost without thinking; certainly it did not seem
     of any particular use at the moment. He did not go much further, but sat down on the cold floor and gave himself up to complete
     miserableness, for a long while. He thought of himself frying bacon and eggs in his own kitchen at home—for he could feel
     inside that it was high time for some meal or other; but that only made him miserabler.
    He could not think what to do; nor could he think what had happened; or why he had been left behind; or why, if he had been left behind, the goblins had not caught him; or even why his head was so sore. The truth was he had
     been lying quiet, out of