The Hobbit

out at the top. “Most likely Fili,” he thought by the tip of
     a long nose poking out of the winding threads. He managed by leaning over to cut most of the strong sticky threads that bound
     him round, and then, sure enough, with a kick and a struggle most of Fili emerged. I am afraid Bilbo actually laughed at the
     sight of him jerking his stiff arms and legs as he danced on the spider-string under his armpits, just like one of those funny
     toys bobbing on a wire.
    Somehow or other Fili was got on to the branch, and then he did his best to help the hobbit, although he was feeling very
     sick and ill from spider-poison, and from hanging most of the night and the next day wound round and round with only his nose to breathe through. It took him
     ages to get the beastly stuff out of his eyes and eyebrows, and as for his beard, he had to cut most of it off. Well, between
     them they started to haul up first one dwarf and then another and slash them free. None of them were better off than Fili,
     and some of them were worse. Some had hardly been able to breathe at all (long noses are sometimes useful you see) and some
     had been more poisoned.
    In this way they rescued Kili, Bifur, Bofur, Dori and Nori. Poor old Bombur was so exhausted—he was the fattest and had been
     constantly pinched and poked—that he just rolled off the branch and fell plop on to the ground, fortunately on to leaves,
     and lay there. But there were still five dwarves hanging at the end of the branch when the spiders began to come back, more
     full of rage than ever.
    Bilbo immediately went to the end of the branch nearest the tree-trunk and kept back those that crawled up. He had taken off
     his ring when he rescued Fili and forgotten to put it on again, so now they all began to splutter and hiss:
    “Now we see you, you nasty little creature! We will eat you and leave your bones and skin hanging on a tree. Ugh! he’s got
     a sting has he? Well, we’ll get him all the same, and then we’ll hang him head downwards for a day or two.”
    While this was going on, the other dwarves were working at the rest of the captives, and cutting at the threads with their
     knives. Soon all would be free, though it was not clear what would happen after that. The spiders had caught them pretty easily the night before, but that had been unawares and in the dark. This time there looked
     like being a horrible battle.
    Suddenly Bilbo noticed that some of the spiders had gathered round old Bombur on the floor, and had tied him up again and
     were dragging him away. He gave a shout and slashed at the spiders in front of him. They quickly gave way, and he scrambled
     and fell down the tree right into the middle of those on the ground. His little sword was something new in the way of stings
     for them. How it darted to and fro! It shone with delight as he stabbed at them. Half a dozen were killed before the rest
     drew off and left Bombur to Bilbo.
    “Come down! Come down!” he shouted to the dwarves on the branch. “Don’t stay up there and be netted!” For he saw spiders swarming
     up all the neighbouring trees, and crawling along the boughs above the heads of the dwarves.
    Down the dwarves scrambled or jumped or dropped, eleven all in a heap, most of them very shaky and little use on their legs.
     There they were at last, twelve of them counting poor old Bombur, who was being propped up on either side by his cousin Bifur,
     and his brother Bofur; and Bilbo was dancing about and waving his Sting; and hundreds of angry spiders were goggling at them
     all round and about and above. It looked pretty hopeless.
    Then the battle began. Some of the dwarves had knives, and some had sticks, and all of them could get at stones; and Bilbo
     had his elvish dagger. Again and again the spiders were beaten off, and many of them were killed. But it could not go on for
     long. Bilbo was nearly tired out; only four of the dwarves were able to stand firmly, and soon they would all be overpowered like
     weary flies. Already the spiders were beginning to weave their webs all round them again from tree to tree.
    In the end Bilbo could think of no plan except to let the dwarves into the secret of his ring. He was rather sorry about it,
     but it could not be helped.
    “I am going to disappear,” he said. “I shall draw the spiders off, if I can; and you must keep together and make in the opposite
     direction. To the left there, that is more or less the way towards the place