The Hobbit

it, the
     tree that he had climbed, though it was tall in itself, was standing near the bottom of a wide valley, so that from its top
     the trees seemed to swell up all round like the edges of a great bowl, and he could not expect to see how far the forest lasted.
     Still he did not see this, and he climbed down full of despair. He got to the bottom again at last, scratched, hot, and miserable,
     and he could not see anything in the gloom below when he got there. His report soon made the others as miserable as he was.
    “The forest goes on for ever and ever and ever in all directions! Whatever shall we do? And what is the use of sending a hobbit!”
     they cried, as if it was his fault. They did not care tuppence about the butterflies, and were only made more angry when he told them of the beautiful
     breeze, which they were too heavy to climb up and feel.
    That night they ate their very last scraps and crumbs of food; and next morning when they woke the first thing they noticed
     was that they were still gnawingly hungry, and the next thing was that it was raining and that here and there the drip of
     it was dropping heavily on the forest floor. That only reminded them that they were also parchingly thirsty, without doing
     anything to relieve them: you cannot quench a terrible thirst by standing under giant oaks and waiting for a chance drip to
     fall on your tongue. The only scrap of comfort there was came unexpectedly from Bombur.
    He woke up suddenly and sat up scratching his head. He could not make out where he was at all, nor why he felt so hungry;
     for he had forgotten everything that had happened since they started their journey that May morning long ago. The last thing
     that he remembered was the party at the hobbit’s house, and they had great difficulty in making him believe their tale of
     all the many adventures they had had since.
    When he heard that there was nothing to eat, he sat down and wept, for he felt very weak and wobbly in the legs. “Why ever
     did I wake up!” he cried. “I was having such beautiful dreams. I dreamed I was walking in a forest rather like this one, only
     lit with torches on the trees and lamps swinging from the branches and fires burning on the ground; and there was a great feast going on, going on for ever. A woodland king was there with a crown of leaves, and there was a merry singing,
     and I could not count or describe the things there were to eat and drink.”
    “You need not try,” said Thorin. “In fact if you can’t talk about something else, you had better be silent. We are quite annoyed
     enough with you as it is. If you hadn’t waked up, we should have left you to your idiotic dreams in the forest; you are no
     joke to carry even after weeks of short commons.”
    There was nothing now to be done but to tighten the belts round their empty stomachs, and hoist their empty sacks and packs,
     and trudge along the track without any great hope of ever getting to the end before they lay down and died of starvation.
     This they did all that day, going very slowly and wearily; while Bombur kept on wailing that his legs would not carry him
     and that he wanted to lie down and sleep.
    “No you don’t!” they said. “Let your legs take their share, we have carried you far enough.”
    All the same he suddenly refused to go a step further and flung himself on the ground. “Go on, if you must,” he said. “I’m
     just going to lie here and sleep and dream of food, if I can’t get it any other way. I hope I never wake up again.”
    At that very moment Balin, who was a little way ahead, called out: “What was that? I thought I saw a twinkle of light in the
     forest.”
    They all looked, and a longish way off, it seemed, they saw a red twinkle in the dark; then another and another sprang out
     beside it. Even Bombur got up, and they hurried along then, not caring if it was trolls or goblins. The light was in front
     of them and to the left of the path, and when at last they had drawn level with it, it seemed plain that torches and fires were burning under
     the trees, but a good way off their track.
    “It looks as if my dreams were coming true,” gasped Bombur puffing up behind. He wanted to rush straight off into the wood
     after the lights. But the others remembered only too well the warnings of the wizard and of Beorn.
    “A feast would be no good, if we never got back alive from it,” said Thorin.
    “But without a feast we shan’t remain alive much