The Hobbit

and silent he crept back to his lair and half closed his eyes.
    When morning came the terror of the dwarves grew less. They realized that dangers of this kind were inevitable in dealing
     with such a guardian, and that it was no good giving up their quest yet. Nor could they get away just now, as Thorin had pointed
     out. Their ponies were lost or killed, and they would have to wait some time before Smaug relaxed his watch sufficiently for
     them to dare the long way on foot. Luckily they had saved enough of their stores to last them still for some time.
    They debated long on what was to be done, but they could think of no way of getting rid of Smaug—which had always been a weak
     point in their plans, as Bilbo felt inclined to point out. Then as is the nature of folk that are thoroughly perplexed, they
     began to grumble at the hobbit, blaming him for what had at first so pleased them: for bringing away a cup and stirring up
     Smaug’s wrath so soon.
    “What else do you suppose a burglar is to do?” asked Bilbo angrily. “I was not engaged to kill dragons, that is warrior’s
     work, but to steal treasure. I made the best beginning I could. Did you expect me to trot back with the whole hoard of Thror
     on my back? If there is any grumbling to be done, I think I might have a say. You ought to have brought five hundred burglars
     not one. I am sure it reflects great credit on your grandfather, but you cannot pretend that you ever made the vast extent
     of his wealth clear to me. I should want hundreds of years to bring it all up, if I was fifty times as big, and Smaug as tame
     as a rabbit.”
    After that of course the dwarves begged his pardon. “What then do you propose we should do, Mr. Baggins?” asked Thorin politely.
    “I have no idea at the moment—if you mean about removing the treasure. That obviously depends entirely on some new turn of
     luck and the getting rid of Smaug. Getting rid of dragons is not at all in my line, but I will do my best to think about it.
     Personally I have no hopes at all, and wish I was safe back at home.”
    “Never mind that for the moment! What are we to do now, to-day?”
    “Well, if you really want my advice, I should say we can do nothing but stay where we are. By day we can no doubt creep out
     safely enough to take the air. Perhaps before long one or two could be chosen to go back to the store by the river and replenish
     our supplies. But in the meanwhile everyone ought to be well inside the tunnel by night.
    “Now I will make you an offer. I have got my ring and will creep down this very noon—then if ever Smaug ought to be napping—and
     see what he is up to. Perhaps something will turn up. ‘Every worm has his weak spot,’ as my father used to say, though I am
     sure it was not from personal experience.”
    Naturally the dwarves accepted the offer eagerly. Already they had come to respect little Bilbo. Now he had become the real
     leader in their adventure. He had begun to have ideas and plans of his own. When midday came he got ready for another journey
     down into the Mountain. He did not like it of course, but it was not so bad now he knew, more or less, what was in front of
     him. Had he known more about dragons and their wily ways, he might have been more frightened and less hopeful of catching this one napping.
    The sun was shining when he started, but it was as dark as night in the tunnel. The light from the door, almost closed, soon
     faded as he went down. So silent was his going that smoke on a gentle wind could hardly have surpassed it, and he was inclined
     to feel a bit proud of himself as he drew near the lower door. There was only the very faintest glow to be seen.
    “Old Smaug is weary and asleep,” he thought. “He can’t see me and he won’t hear me. Cheer up Bilbo!” He had forgotten or had
     never heard about dragons’ sense of smell. It is also an awkward fact that they can keep half an eye open watching while they
     sleep, if they are suspicious.
    Smaug certainly looked fast asleep, almost dead and dark, with scarcely a snore more than a whiff of unseen steam, when Bilbo
     peeped once more from the entrance. He was just about to step out on to the floor when he caught a sudden thin and piercing
     ray of red from under the drooping lid of Smaug’s left eye. He was only pretending to sleep! He was watching the tunnel entrance!
     Hurriedly Bilbo stepped back and blessed the luck of his ring. Then Smaug spoke.
    “Well, thief! I