“Bilbo’s journey”, The Art of David Thorn Wenzel.

Page 20 (41): 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! Very slowly he got up and groped out on all fours, till suddenly his hand met what felt like a tiny ring of cold metal.. Non c’era tempo per esaminarlo. He would not think of what to do, nor could he think what had happened; or why he had been left behind, the goblins had not caught him; or even why his head was sore. He felt for his pipe, then he felt for his matches and he could not find any at all. But his hand came on the hilt of his little sword revealing a faint luminescence. This reassured them that the goblins were not too near. Comforted by the elven blade, he resumed his journey.

Page 21 (43). Bilbo pressed on through the long tunnel, loathing the necessity of continuing in such a manner, yet daring not to halt until, weary and worn, he came upon a pool of water. There are strange things living in the pools and lakes in the hearts of the mountains, even in the tunnels and caves the goblins have made for themselves there are other things living unbeknown to them that have sneaked in from outside to lie up in the dark. Deep down here lived Gollum. I don’t know where he came from, nor who or what he was. He got his name due to the horrible horrible noise in his throat he made swallowing. He called himself “My precioussss”. “Bless us and splash us, my precioussss! I guess it’s a choice feast, at least a tasty morsel it’d make us.” “What is he, my precioussss?”he asked. “I’m Mr Bilbo Baggins” Bilbo answered, adding he would only like to get away.

Page 22 (49). Gollum, who feared the elven blade, proposed to Bilbo a riddle game, eager to appear friendly. The rules were simple: if Bilbo answered Gollum’s riddles correctly, he would be guided out of the cave; if he failed, Gollum would eat him. The two began to exchange riddles. Despite the tension, Bilbo managed to answer all of Gollum’s riddles, even the final question, when, in a cry of ‘time, time!’ he saved himself by sheer luck, for that was indeed the correct answer. However, when it came to Bilbo’s turn to pose a riddle, in his agitation and fear, he could not think of one and, almost unwittingly, blurted out, ‘What have I got in my pocket?’ Gollum, not realizing that Bilbo was posing a question rather than a true riddle, attempted to guess. After three failed attempts, Gollum was defeated.

Page 23 (53). Bilbo understood that all was up, and that Gollum meant to murder him at any rate. Just in time he turned and ran blindly back up the dark passage down which he had come. “What has he got in its pocketses?” He put his left hand in the pocket. The ring felt very cold as it quietly slipped on to his groping forefinger. The hiss now was close behind him. “Curse it! Curse it! Curse it!” hissed Gollum. “Curse the Baggins! It’s gone! What has it got in its poketses? Oh, we guess, we guess, my precious. He’s found it, yes he must have. My birthday present.” “The goblinses will catch it. It can’t get out that way, precious.” “Goblinses! Yes, but if it’s got the present, our precious present, then goblinses will get it, gollum! We shan’t ever be safe again, never, gollum!”.

Page 24 (55). But still it wasn’t over. Now it was the goblins that barred his way to freedom. They saw him sooner than he saw them. Whether it was an accident, or a last trick of the ring before it took a new master, it was not on his finger. With yells of delight the goblins rushed upon him. Bilbo, forgetting even to draw his sword, struck his hands into his pockets. And there was the ring still, and it slipped on his finger. The goblins would not see a sign of him. “Where is it?” they cried. Bilbo ran for the door, that was still ajar. But his buttons had got wedged on the edge of the door and the door post. Bilbo gave a terrible squirm. He tore his coast and waistcoat, buttons bursting in every direction, and he was through, leaping down the steps like a goat. Goblins came down after him, hooting and hallooing running quick and quiet, but keeping out of the sun, so soon they went back. Bilbo had escaped.

Page 25 (58). Bilbo had escaped the goblins, but he did not know where he was. He had lost hood, cloak, food, pony, his buttons and his friends. He was on the other side of the Misty Mountains, right to the edge of the Land Beyond! As he tried to orient himself, Bilbo heard voices: it was the dwarves and Gandalf discussing him! With great relief, he stepped forward and recounted his adventures, omitting any mention of the ring he had found. Thus, his tale seemed all the more extraordinary and miraculous.

Now reunited, the company resumed their journey. As they advanced, the shadows deepened. The gloom of the forest grew heavier, and the silence more profound. Bilbo was hungry, and his feet ached. All of a sudden they heard a howl! It was wolves howling! They had to climb the trees, and Dori waited Bilbo, who wouldn’t climb, till he had clambered off his shoulders into the branches and then he jumped for the branches himself.

Page 26 (59). In a minute there was a whole wolf pack of wolves yelping all round the tree and leaping up at the trunk, with eyes blazing and tongues hanging out. But even wild Wargs (so the evil wolves over the Edge of the Wild were named) can climb trees. For a time they were safe. The Wargs had come to meet the goblins and the goblins were late. The reason, no doubt, was the death of the Great Goblin and all the excitement caused by the dwarves and Bilbo and the wizard. The Wargs were very angry and puzzled at finding them near here in their very meeting place. “What is all this uproar in the forest tonight?” said the Lord of the Eagles. He was sitting, black in the moonlight, on the top of a pinnacle of rock. “I hear wolves’ voices! Are the goblins at mischief in the woods?” The Lord of the Eagles, though he could not see the people on the trees, could make out the commotion among the wolves and see the tiny flashes of fire, and hear the howling and yelping come out faint from far beneath him. He was filled with curiosity to know what was afoot, so he summoned many other eagles to him and they flew away from the mountains, and slowly circling ever round and round they came down, down, down towards the ring of the wolves and the meeting place of the goblins.

Page 27 (61). Loud cried the Lord of the Eagles,to whom Gandalf had now spoken. Back swept the great birds that were with him, and down they came like huge black shadows. Over the wolves and the goblins swooped the eagles; the dark rush of their beating wings smote them to the floor or drove them far away; their talons tore at  goblins faces. Other birds flew to the tree-tops and seized Bilbo, Gandalf and the dwarves and up they went together in the sky. Bilbo was surprised to discover that Gandalf and the Lord of the Eagles were already acquainted and even had a measure of friendship between them.

Page 28 (64). The eagles, having passed the night, carried the dwarves and the hobbit down to the valley. Gandalf announced that he must take his leave, but not before leading them to a special person. All felt a twinge of discouragement, yet the journey must continue. Thus, they arrived at the home of Beorn, a huge man with a black beard and hair, a gruff and even less hospitable fellow, who dwelled at the edge of Mirkwood. With a clever stratagem, Gandalf managed to secure their hospitality: he revealed his companions one by one, while recounting their deeds against werewolves and goblins. “You had better wait here,” said Gandalf to the dwarves. “And when I call or whistle begin to come after me – you will see the way I go – but, only in small groups, mind, and about five minutes apart! Come on mister Baggins, there’s a gate somewhere round this way!” “Ah! Here they are!” he said to the horses. “Here they are! They don’t look dangerous. Who you are and what do you want?” asked Beorn rudely.

Page 29 (68). Beorn agreed to let them eat, sleep, and regain their strength. During the night, a great commotion was heard, sounding like a true peril. Only later did they discover that it was a gathering of great bears, and that Beorn was no ordinary man. “I wish you all speed, and my house is always open to you, if you ever come back this way again. ”Farewell!” said Beorn to the departing company, providing them with food, new ponies, and a horse for Gandalf. After a long journey, they arrived at the edge of Mirkwood, where they sent the ponies back and bid farewell to Gandalf, who left the dwarves and the hobbit with the warning to traverse the forest without straying from the path.

Page 30 (70). Soon the light at the gate of the forest became a light bright hole far behind, and the quiet was so deep that their feet seemed to thump along while all the trees leaned over them and listened. There were queer noises too, grunts, hurrying and scufflings in the undergrowth; but what made the noises even Bilbo’s inquisitive eyes could not see. As days followed the food was beginning to get low and they were thirsty too.

Page 31 (75). It was not long they grew to hate the forest as heartily as they had hated the tunnels of goblins. For various reasons, they did not notice they were at the edge of the forest and continued their weary journey. At night, twice, lights and sounds appeared among the trees, accompanied by the aromas of feasts, vanishing as soon as the dwarves and Bilbo approached, leading them further away from the path. Hunger and despair grew ever more intense. Before them appeared a third banquet, even more sumptuous and magnificent than the previous ones. At the head of a line of feasters stood a woodland king with a crown of leaves upon his golden hair. The face of the elvish folk and their songs were filled with mirth. Loud and clear and fair were those songs, and out stepped Thorin into their midst. e Thorin avanzò in mezzo a loro. Le parole si interruppero in un silenzio mortale. Tutte le luci si spensero. I fuochi svanirono in volute di fumo nero. Ashes and cinder where in the eyes of the dwarves, and the wood was filled again with their clamour and their cries. Bilbo found himself running in circles, breathless (or so he believed), shouting the names of the dwarves without cease. Bilbo, left alone, soon soon made up his mind that it was no good to try anything ‘till the day came with some light. The hobbit leaned against a tree, and suddenly it seemed that fibers were binding his legs and arms. It was the threads of a great spider: Bilbo drew his sword and struck it down, only to faint shortly thereafter.

Page 32 (76). In the morning, he set off again, trying to discern the right direction. Having slain the giant spider all alone, in the dark, without the aid of the wizard or anyone else, was a significant milestone for Mr. Baggins. He felt a different person, much prouder and bolder, despite his empty stomach. “I will give you a name,” he said to the sword. “I will call you Sting.” Then he slipped on his ring and set out to explore. The forest was dark and silent, and obviously the first thing to do was searching for his friends.He made a guess as good as he could at the direction at which the cries for help had come in the night, and by luck he guessed more or less right. He arrived before a dark shadow woven from thick webs, inhabited by spiders that spoke of the dwarves captured the night before. A dozen bundles hung from a branch, in which the dwarves were ensnared.

Page 33 (79). Bilbo, with his skill at throwing stones, struck the spider that was creeping towards Bombur, causing it to tumble. Then, remaining invisible, he decided to draw the attention of the spiders, taunting them with thrown stones and a mocking song. When the spiders were sufficiently distracted, Bilbo returned to free his friends. They were all battered and weak from the venom, hunger, near asphyxiation, and having been hung for so long. However, the spiders returned far too soon, and from his perch in the tree, Bilbo confronted them with Sting to slow them down. “Come down! Come down!” shouted the hobbit to the dwarves on the branch. “I’m going to disappear,” he said. “I shall draw the spiders off, if I can; and you must keep together and make it in the opposite direction. That is more or less the way towards the place were we last saw the elf-fires.” The dwarves, now free, fell to the ground and struggled to fight their way through the remaining foes to escape, but they were far too weary. Bilbo reappeared beside them, wielding his sword with remarkable swiftness. After a long and arduous battle, the spiders finally surrendered. The company at last reached the elven circle, where the time for rest, questions about the ring, and expressions of gratitude arrived. Only then did they realize that Thorin was not with them: he had been captured by the Wood Elves and taken before their king.

Page 34 (81). “Why did you and your folk twice try to attack my people at their merry-making?” asked the king. “We did not attack them,” answered Thorin. “We came to beg, because we were starving”. “Where are your friends now, and what are they doing?” “I do’t know, but I expect starving in the forest.” “What were you doing in the forest?” “Looking for food and drink, because we were starving.” “But what brought you into the forest at all?” asked the king, angrily. At that point, Thorin clenched his jaw and said no more. “Very well!” said the king. “Take him away and keep him safe, until he feels inclined to tell the truth. Even if he waits a hundred years.” There in the king’s dungeon the poor Thorin laid; and after he had got over his thankfulness for bread and meat and water, he began to wonder what had become of his unfortunate friends.

Page 35 (82). The day after the battle with the spiders Bilbo and the dwarves made one last despairing effort to find a way out before they died of hunger and thirst. But they were surrounded and captured by the elves.  There was no thought of a fight. Even if the dwarves had not been in such a state that they were actually glad to be captured , their small knives, the only weapons they had, would have been of no use against the arrows of the elves that could hit a bird’s eye in the dark. Bilbo popped on his ring and slipped quickly to one side. That is why the elves never found or counted the hobbit. Each dwarf was blindfolded but that did not make much difference, for even Bilbo with the use of his eyes could not see where they were going, and neither he nor the others knew where they had started from anyway.  Across the bridge that led to the king’s doors the elves thrust the prisoners but Bilbo hesitated in the rear. He only made up his mind not to desert his friends just in time to scuttle over at the heels of the last elves, before the great gates of the king closed behind them with a clang.

Page 36 (86). It was a weary long time that Bilbo lived in that place all alone, and always in hiding, neve daring to take off his ring, hardly daring to sleep, even tucked away in the remotest corners he could find. The palace was guarded by magical doors, making any attempt to escape outdoors quite difficult. After a week or two, Bilbo managed to locate where all the dwarves were imprisoned, each held in different parts of the palace. He also found Thorin and spoke with him. In his wanderings, Bilbo discovered the existence of another exit from the cavern: an underground river accessible through a sluice where empty wine barrels were discarded. Fortune smiled upon him: one evening, the head of the guards and the king’s steward, having sampled the delightful new wine, grew quite drunk. Acting swiftly, Bilbo managed to steal the keys to the cells, liberate the dwarves, and hide them in the empty barrels. Once his task was complete, he quickly fastened the lids onto the barrels. He had just finished in time: shortly after, the elves tasked with handling the barrels arrived, roused the steward, and began their work. They rolled the barrels one by one into the sluice, sending them tumbling into the cold current of the river. However, Bilbo could not enter any of them, as there was no one left to assist him. In desperation, he clung with all his might to the last barrel about to be thrown and fell into the water with it.

Page 37 (89).The barrels arrived at the Forest River, then to a cove with a rocky promontory, where the elven boatmen were waiting. They secured the barrels until the following morning, while Bilbo made his way to the nearby huts to stock up on provisions for the night. In the morning, using long poles, the elves began their journey on the raft of barrels. The day grew lighter and warmer as they floated along. Suddenly the cliff fell away. The shores sank: The trees ended. And there was the landscape that met Bilbo’s gaze: in the distance, with its dark peak shrouded in a ragged cloud, stood the Mountain! It rose solitary, overlooking the marshes and facing the forest. Bilbo had come from afar and faced many adventures to see it. But now, he did not like its appearance at all.

Page 38 (91). Bilbo and the barrels with the dwarves floated toward the Mountain, down to where the Forest River poured into the Long Lake. As soon as the raft of barrels came in sight boats rowed out from the piles of Lake-Town, and voices hailed the raftsteerers. Poi vennero lanciate corde e si mise mano ai remi; presto la zattera fu deviata dalla corrente del Forest River e rimorchiata intorno al promontorio roccioso nella piccola baia della Lake-Town. The barrels were left afloat while the elves of the raft and the boatmen went to feast in Lake-town. They would have been surprised, if they could have seen what happened down by the shore, after they had gone and the shades of the night had fallen.Bilbo began to free the dwarves, who were unhappy, weary, and stiffened by their ordeal. The first he found was Thorin, who had to be urged a bit before he joined in to aid Bilbo. Half of the dwarves, exhausted, sat down upon the shore. Fili and Kili, the two youngest among them, assisted Bilbo in liberating the others, who fared much worse, having taken on water and bearing numerous bruises.

Page 39 (93). Thorin, Bilbo, Fili, and Kili made their way toward the town, surprising the guards, who were little accustomed to strangers in general, and especially to those who were not elves. Within the city, the dragon had not been seen for some time, and the younger folk even doubted his existence. Yet the legends of the dwarves and their wealth had endured. Thorin’s announcement, despite his disheveled appearance, that he was the heir of the Lords of Dale stirred great excitement among the guards. They were escorted by the captain before the Master of Lake-town, who was presiding over a feast with the elves. Their astonishment was profound when Thorin stepped across the threshold. “Chi sei? Cosa vuoi?” urlarono, scattando in piedi e cercando a tastoni le armi. “I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror King under the Mountain! I return!!”. “These are prisoners of our king that have escaped, wandering vagabond dwarves they could not give any good account of themselves, sneaking through the woods and molesting our people.” “Is this true?” asked the Master of the Town.  “It is true that we were wrongfully waylaid by the elven-king and imprisoned without cause as we journeyed back to our own land.” said Thorin. “But lock nor bar may hinder the homecoming spoken of old.”