In the morning, the trio rode down to Green Hill village, which consisted of an inn and a small number of cottages at the junction where the road from Bywater met the road from Tuckborough to Stock. Since they arrived a little before noon, they had their lunch at the inn. After lunch, while Frodo engaged rooms and asked a few questions of the innkeeper, Merry left to ride over to Tuckborough to invite Pippin to join them.
That afternoon, Frodo and Sam went to visit Noddy. The Ferndingle farm was three miles from the Inn and a little over a mile from the Stock road. The low, round-roofed farm-cottage and barn lay at the bottom of a dell amid a fenced-in series of yards and pens, some grassy, some muddy, containing the livestock: three cows, a sturdy draft-pony, a family of pigs, and a dozen or so chickens. The apple orchard was on the hill to the east, and below it lay a pasture and recently mown hay- and cornfields. The vast wood of dark pines and bare, silver-branched beech trees bounded the farm to the south, and an arm of the woods wrapped around it on the west, boxing it in neatly. In other circumstances, Frodo would have said that looked quite sheltered and cozy. Now, he thought of how isolated it was. Anything might happen here.
Noddy greeted them enthusiastically. "I'm so glad you came, Mr. Baggins!" he said, seizing Frodo by the hand. "You'll see what this curse is like--though most likely, naught'll happen afore nightfall. Come inside."
He invited them into the tiny four-room cottage, and into the kitchen, where Mrs. Biddle was washing up after lunch. She was an elderly, gray-curled widow, a friend of the late Mrs. Ferndingle from one of the nearest farms, where she lived with her grown sons and their families. Noddy, she said, needed looking after more than they did.
When Frodo asked her if she'd witnessed any of the strange goings-on, she shook her head. "Never seen any of it for myself, save the morning the pigs got out. Young Nador's told me the rest of it."
"Do you believe there's a curse on the farm?"
"I don't know what to think of it," she admitted, "but there's something peculiar's afoot here. If you can put things right for the lad, Mr. Baggins, I'd be glad of it. Curse or no, it's been a trouble to him."
"You'll put it right, won't you, Mr. Baggins?" Noddy added hopefully. "You'll see how to get this curse off."
"I shall certainly try my best," Frodo promised. "You won't mind if I look about the place, or ask you a few questions? Sam tells me you have an elder brother."
"Aye," Noddy replied warily. "Nob. The farm should've gone to him when Father died, only he didn't want it. He went off five years ago now, and he an't been seen in these parts since."
"Do you know where he's gone?" Frodo asked. "Have you heard from him at all since he left?"
"Not a word," said Noddy. "He might've fallen off the edge of the earth for all I know... or care." The instant these last words were spoken, the young farmer looked abashed. He mumbled an excuse about seeing to the pigs.
"You mustn't mind young Nador," Mrs. Biddle said once Noddy had gone out the back door. "He's always that way about his brother. 'Tis a sore spot for him."
"I didn't mean to distress him," said Frodo, "but I would like to know. Will you tell me about Noddy's brother, please?"
Mrs. Biddle had no objection to talking about Nobold. "He was a clever one, not like poor Nador, but he was restless with it, you might say. Always dreaming and aching for adventure, and there's precious little of that on a farm. He ran off as soon as he was old enough. Broke his poor father's heart, it did, but old Naboth never gave up hope Nobold would return 'til the day he died, and left the younger lad to tend this farm by himself."
After this, the old lady settled down to have a chat with Sam, whom she remembered from his childhood visits. She wanted to hear how the Gaffer was, and to hear all about Sam's upcoming wedding and the girl he intended to marry. Frodo took the opportunity to have a look around the farm by daylight.
He first examined the kitchen door. There was a bolt on the inside, but it could be easily reached through the window if open or, more likely, the door had been left unbolted in those days before the 'curse'. He then went out into the kitchen garden and out the gate at the side, pausing to inspect that too. Between the garden fence and the fence that bounded the barn-yard was a wide lane, leading at one end to the shed where the plough and carts and other farm equipment were kept, and across the farm to the fields on the other. A second lane crossed it at the front of the cottage and barn; Frodo had to walk up this lane and around to the other side of the barn to find Noddy at the pig-pen.
The young farmer was still a little shy after Frodo apologized for upsetting him. "I don't see why you need to go asking after my brother Nob," he said, directing his comments to one of the pigs as he scratched its back, and not looking up at Frodo. "What's he got to do with it? He's gone, and won't never come back." He sounded rather glum, and Frodo thought that, in spite of what Noddy had said earlier, he missed his brother after all.
"I realize that my questions sometimes seem odd," Frodo answered, "but you must believe that I only ask them because I want to be of help."
"Just as you say, Mr. Baggins."
While he was at the pig-pen, Frodo also had a look at the latch on that gate and considered how the pigs might have escaped. It was conceivable that, once they'd gotten out of their pen, the pigs could have found their own way around three sides of the barn, in through the garden gate and into the kitchen... but he suspected that they'd had some assistance.
He left Noddy to have a look around the barn. The eaves were high at the front, but low on the sides and almost touching the ground at the back. Using ropes or a plank, one person, even a very small one, might be able to drive a cow up onto the roof.
Now, how to explain the more incredible sights Noddy had witnessed?
Frodo went up to have a look at the orchard next, then ventured into the woods. Under the tall pines and beeches lay a soft covering of fallen needles and withered leaves, but the ground was clear of underbrush. The heavy pine branches hung so low in some places that even a hobbit had to duck under--and that was when a small, fluttering movement caught his eye.
When Sam came out in search of him, Frodo was crouched to extricate a scrap of white fabric that had caught on a branch.
"What's that?" To Sam, it looked like a torn handkerchief.
"I don't know," Frodo answered as he tucked the scrap into his trouser pocket. "But it might be important."
They stayed for dinner, and after they had seen Mrs. Biddle off at dusk, joined Noddy in the little patch of green dooryard in front of the cottage. There, they sat on wooden benches to smoke in the deepening twilight. Except for the snorts and contented grunts from the animals in the barn as they settled down to sleep, all was still and quiet.
"But just you wait," said Noddy. "If something happens, it'll be soon. You'll see some sights then!"
It had been a warm day for November, but with the sunset, the air grew chilly. The wind rose, rustling the dry cornstalks in the field and dead leaves on the forest floor. Sam shivered, and began to worry that Frodo might catch cold sitting out in the cool night air. He would have put his arms around Frodo to keep him warm, if not for Noddy's presence. Since they were not alone, all he could do was make sure that Frodo had his cloak pulled close about him.
"There'll be a frost come morning," said Noddy, never taking his eyes from the forbidding black wall of the wood.
"I hope we won't be out as late as that!" Sam replied.
As the two began to talk about their mutual interest in growing things, Frodo stood up to pace. Sam and Noddy discussed the abundant harvests the Shire had seen that year, the size of the apples and the sweetness of the corn. With the prospect of a mild winter, Noddy was thinking of planting winter-wheat in the bottom field if it wasn't hopelessly accursed.
Sam was asking if the magic beans Noddy had planted were sprouting yet, when Frodo spied a white object moving in the fading light atop the orchard hill.
"What's that?" he hissed to his companions, and pointed.
A low, sharp whistle carried over the breeze, and the object lifted its head in response; it was clear to see now that it was a pony.
"It's back again!" Noddy whispered excitedly as the white pony began to trot swiftly along the ridge of the hill toward the wood.
Sam scrambled to his feet. "Do we go after it?" he wondered.
Frodo nodded, and was about to go out into the lane when Noddy gasped. "Look there! D'you see?"
Something else, also white, was moving through the trees. A light? No, it appeared to be solid. A figure, tall and slender; as it came closer to the forest's edge, they saw that it was a woman with long, ashen hair beneath a gauzy veil and flowing white robes that seemed to glow as if they were lit from within.
She stood for a moment near the edge of the wood, gazing directly at the three hobbits, then stepped backwards into the deep shadows beneath the pines.
"Stay here," Frodo told Noddy. "Come along, Sam!" He ran toward the wood, and went in.
It was difficult to see anything once he was beneath the trees; any remaining light from the evening sky was blocked by the thick pine branches. Sam, behind him, shouted his name. He had already lost sight of the lady... no, there was a glimmer of light deeper within the forest, on the rise of a hill before him.
Frodo headed toward it and, as he drew closer, saw that it was indeed the lady. She was just ahead of him, heading for an outcropping of rock at the crest of the hill. She turned to look over her shoulder, as if to see if she were being followed. Frodo thought she saw him, but she only smiled and turned her back to him.
As he clambered up the hill after her, she paced slowly to the edge of the rock and spread the folds of her white cloak with both arms wide; a breeze caught it and it billowed out around her, for a moment completely concealing the lady. Then the cloak seemed to drop suddenly, as if there was nothing beneath it. As it fell, the glowing light vanished. Frodo cried out, and stumbled to the spot to find the lady gone.
From his place on the hill, he could see other glimmers of light below. By their bobbing and swift movements, Frodo thought they were winged creatures like small owls, or enormous moths. They appeared in different directions, but all flittered away farther into the woods. He went down the far slope of the hill to have a better look, chased after them, but never seemed to get any nearer, until one by one they faded; at last, he stopped, panting and lost in utter darkness.
That whistle sounded again--not a clear, single note, but a tune played on a pipe.
As he tried to determine where the music was coming from, a bright flare of light appeared at some distance; no unearthly glow this time, but the orange and flickering, familiar warm light of a fire. Frodo crept toward it as slowly and cautiously as he could. Hobbits were skilled at moving quietly when they wanted to, and he used that skill now. He drew closer, close enough to hear the murmur of voices, to see the dancing shadow-shapes of persons on the trees, although the light was not bright enough for him to see who or what exactly they were. Some seemed tall as the Big Folk, but others were smaller.
He was not more than a hundred yards from them, when the fire was abruptly dowsed. Someone laughed, and other voices joined in. He heard the sounds of many people around him in the darkness, pushing through the pine branches, rustling the dead leaves, then he yelped out loud in spite of himself when some small, furry animal--dog? cat? fox? rabbit?--brushed the backs of his calves. In a pin-prick flash of light, he caught a second glimpse of figures, and ran after them.
The light went out, and they disappeared again. Frodo stopped, out of breath, and leaned on the sturdy bole of an ancient beech tree. When he heard a rustle of leaves very nearby, he whirled. "Who-?"
"'s me."
"Sam?" Frodo sighed in relief. "How on earth did you find me?"
"I've been following you since you went into these woods. You're awful hard to chase after, almost as hard as them you've been a-running after."
"Did you see them?"
"The people, you mean? Who are they?" Following the sound of Frodo's voice, Sam found him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you getting tired?"
"Yes, a little," Frodo admitted, and left the tree for the more comforting, sturdy support of his friend. "I can see that all this running about is useless."
Another light appeared; Sam made as if to head toward it, and Frodo lay a hand on his arm.
"No, don't," he said. "Something like this happened to Uncle Bilbo on his adventures. Do you remember, Sam, how he used to tell us of how he and the dwarves were lost and starving in Mirkwood?"
"And they chased the elves!" Sam answered, remembering the story well. "Do you think it's elves after all, Frodo? That lady we saw looked like she might be an Elf."
"No, I don't think she is--or any of them are--but I think we'll be led a merry chase through these woods all night, just as Uncle Bilbo was. I suspect we're being deliberately led away from Noddy's farm. If we don't take care, we might easily be lost."
Both of them had traveled in these woods before, farther to the west, near Stock, and knew how vast they were. If they lost their bearings in the dark, they might go thirty miles in one direction, or ten in another before they found their way out again.
The light disappeared, then another reappeared farther away. They stayed where they were.
Some minutes passed in silence, and then a voice boomed, "WHO DARES ENTER THESE WOODS?" so loudly that both hobbits instinctively crouched and covered their ears.
Frodo reached out, seeking Sam's hand; once he found it, he held on tightly. "You're not afraid, are you, Sam?"
"N- no," came the somewhat tremulous reply. "We've been in worse places'n this."
Hand in hand, they stood, wondering what to do. Should they answer that thundering question? Frodo was about to when the voice roared again: "LEAVE THESE WOODS, TRESPASSERS!"
To the hobbits' astonishment, a giant face appeared before them, glowering, red-eyed, bushy-browed and bearded. Frodo heard Sam gasp, and he felt his heart quail, but Sam was right: they'd faced worse together. He squeezed Sam's hand once more for luck, then let go and stepped forward to confront this terrifying apparition.
The face disappeared in a blink.
The woods around them were quiet except for the wind in the trees and a faint patter on the dry leaves underfoot told them that it was beginning to rain even before they felt the first drops. The moon had risen and, even though rain-clouds were moving in, there was now enough grayish light to see to the edge of the forest.
"I've seen enough for tonight," said Frodo. "Let's make our farewells to Noddy, and return to the Inn. I wonder whatever happened to Merry?"
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