The Hobbit

always been far to the south of the Lonely Mountain,
     and would have left them still with a long and difficult northward march when they got to the other side. North of the Carrock
     the edge of Mirkwood drew closer to the borders of the Great River, and though here the Mountains too drew down nearer, Beorn
     advised them to take this way; for at a place a few days’ ride due north of the Carrock was the gate of a little-known pathway through Mirkwood that led almost straight towards the Lonely Mountain.
    “The goblins,” Beorn had said, “will not dare to cross the Great River for a hundred miles north of the Carrock nor to come
     near my house—it is well protected at night!—but I should ride fast; for if they make their raid soon they will cross the
     river to the south and scour all the edge of the forest so as to cut you off, and Wargs run swifter than ponies. Still you
     are safer going north, even though you seem to be going back nearer to their strongholds; for that is what they will least
     expect, and they will have the longer ride to catch you. Be off now as quick as you may!”
    That is why they were now riding in silence, galloping wherever the ground was grassy and smooth, with the mountains dark
     on their left, and in the distance the line of the river with its trees drawing ever closer. The sun had only just turned
     west when they started, and till evening it lay golden on the land about them. It was difficult to think of pursuing goblins
     behind, and when they had put many miles between them and Beorn’s house they began to talk and to sing again and to forget
     the dark forest-path that lay in front. But in the evening when the dusk came on and the peaks of the mountains glowered against
     the sunset they made a camp and set a guard, and most of them slept uneasily with dreams in which there came the howl of hunting
     wolves and the cries of goblins.
    Still the next morning dawned bright and fair again. There was an autumn-like mist white upon the ground and the air was chill, but soon the sun rose red in the East and the mists vanished, and while the shadows were still
     long they were off again. So they rode now for two more days, and all the while they saw nothing save grass and flowers and
     birds and scattered trees, and occasionally small herds of red deer browsing or sitting at noon in the shade. Sometimes Bilbo
     saw the horns of the harts sticking up out of the long grass, and at first he thought they were the dead branches of trees.
     That third evening they were so eager to press on, for Beorn had said that they should reach the forest-gate early on the
     fourth-day, that they rode still forward after dusk and into the night beneath the moon. As the light faded Bilbo thought
     he saw away to the right, or to the left, the shadowy form of a great bear prowling along in the same direction. But if he
     dared to mention it to Gandalf, the wizard only said: “Hush! Take no notice!”
    Next day they started before dawn, though their night had been short. As soon as it was light they could see the forest coming
     as it were to meet them, or waiting for them like a black and frowning wall before them. The land began to slope up and up,
     and it seemed to the hobbit that a silence began to draw in upon them. Birds began to sing less. There were no more deer;
     not even rabbits were to be seen. By the afternoon they had reached the eaves of Mirkwood, and were resting almost beneath
     the great overhanging boughs of its outer trees. Their trunks were huge and gnarled, their branches twisted, their leaves
     were dark and long. Ivy grew on them and trailed along the ground.
    “Well, here is Mirkwood!” said Gandalf. “The greatest of the forests of the Northern world. I hope you like the look of it.
     Now you must send back these excellent ponies you have borrowed.”
    The dwarves were inclined to grumble at this, but the wizard told them they were fools. “Beorn is not as far off as you seem
     to think, and you had better keep your promises anyway, for he is a bad enemy. Mr. Baggins’ eyes are sharper than yours, if
     you have not seen each night after dark a great bear going along with us or sitting far off in the moon watching our camps.
     Not only to guard you and guide you, but to keep an eye on the ponies too. Beorn may be your friend, but he loves his animals
     as his children. You do not guess what kindness he has shown you in letting dwarves ride them so far and so fast, nor