Under Hill and Riddles in the Dark

538 15 0
                                    

Where  were Gandalf and Hannah? Of that neither the Dwarves and Bilbo nor the  Goblins had any idea, and the Goblins did not wait to find out. It was  deep, deep, dark, such as only Goblins that have taken to living in the  heart of the mountains can see through. The passages there were crossed  and tangled in all directions, but the Goblins knew their way, as well  as you do to the nearest post-office; and the way went down and down,  and it was horribly stuffy. The goblins were very rough, and pinched  unmercifully, and chuckled and laughed in their horrible stony voices;  and Bilbo was more unhappy even than when the troll had picked him up by  his toes. He wished again and again for his nice hobbit-hole. Not for  the last time.

Now there came a glimmer red of light before them. The  Goblins began to sing, or croak, keeping time with the flap of their  feet on the stone, and shaking their prisoners as well.

Clap! Snap! the black crack!
Grib, grab! Pinch, nab!
And down, down to Goblin-town
You go, my lad!

Clash, crash! Crush, smash!
Hammer and tongs! Knocker and gongs!
Pound, pound, down underground!
Ho, ho! my lad!

Swish, smack! Whip crack!
Batter and beat! Yammer and bleat!
Work, work! Nor dare to shirk,
While Goblins quaff, and Goblins laugh,
Round and round far underground
Below, my lad!

It sounded truly terrifying. The walls echoed to the clap, snap! And the crush, smash! And to the ugly laughter of their ho, ho! my lad! The general meaning of the song was only too plain; for now the Goblins took out whips and whipped them with a swish, smack!,  and set them running as fast as they could in front of them; and more  than one of the Dwarves were already yammering and bleating like  anything, when they stumbled into a big cavern.

It was lit by a great  red fire in the middle, and by torches along the walls, and it was full  of Goblins. They all laughed and stamped and clapped their hands, when  the Dwarves (with poor little Bilbo at the back and nearest to the  whips) came running in, while the goblin-drivers whooped and cracked  their whips behind. The ponies were already huddled in a corner; and  there were all the baggages and packages lying broken open, and being  rummaged by goblins, and smelt by goblins, and fingered by goblins, and  quarreled over by goblins.

I am afraid that was the last they ever  saw of those excellent little ponies, including the jolly sturdy little  fellow that Elrond had leant to Gandalf, since a horse was not suitable  for the mountain-paths. For Goblins eat horses and ponies and donkeys  (and other much more dreadful things), and they are always hungry. Just  now however the prisoners were thinking only of themselves. The Goblins  chained their hands behind their backs and linked them all together in a  line and dragged them to the far end of the cavern with Bilbo tugging  at the end of the row.

There in the shadows on a large flat stone,  surrounded by piled up skulls and trophies form enemies to make a  throne, sat a tremendous Goblin with a huge head and an equally large goiter, and armed Goblins were  standing round him carrying the axes and bent swords that they use. Now  Goblins are cruel, wicked, and bad-hearted. They make no beautiful  things, but they make clever ones. They can tunnel and mine as well as  any but the most skilled Dwarves, when they take the trouble, though  they are usually very untidy and dirty. Hammers, axes, swords, daggers,  pickaxes, tongs, and also instruments of torture, they make very well,  or get other people to make to their design, prisoners and slaves have  to work till they die for want of air and light. They did not hate  Dwarves especially, no more than they hated everybody and everything,  and particularly the orderly and prosperous; in some parts wicked  Dwarves had even made alliances with them. Anyway, Goblins don't care  who they catch, as long as it is done smart and secret, and the  prisoners are not able to defend themselves.

A Long Strange JourneyWhere stories live. Discover now