On my way to Needlehole, bypassing the road (who needs roads, after all) and thus splashing through the very bog I spotted a strange creature. Not too strange—two arms, two legs, one head; hobbit-like one could say, even man-like, since it was much taller than me. I carefully approached and started examining.
A stranger with a bow. The arrows swishing one by one into…goodness! I have never seen such huge slugs in my life! Disgusting things! What in Middle-earth except spiders could be worse…
But soon I forgot about the slugs. The stranger seemed much more interesting. Smooth and graceful movements, perfectly precise shots, and complete silence unlike the usual noise following the Big Folk wherever they go. And he was too fast for a creature of his, erm, size.
Could it really be…
“An elf or I am mad,” I said aloud. And then… I expected him to disappear or at least turn around, but nothing happened, he didn’t pay any attention nor even show a sign of noticing me. So I just went on following and watching him.
Now I was sure it was a real elf. Who else can remain so calm when someone follows you and talks about you out loud? We were slowly advancing in the direction of the most unpleasant part of the bog, most of all full of annoying gnats and horseflies. I was about to warn the elf, but he didn’t seem concerned about the insects in the air around, and not even about the enormous evil-looking gnat seating itself on the elf’s leg while he was preparing a shot.
I stooped a bit to see it. The gnat had bad intentions indeed. I got angry. I’m not going to allow a gnat, even a big one, to bite or maybe even to kill my elf!
“Don’t! Touch! The elf!” I shouted in fury and smashed it. Now the elf noticed me for sure, at least I appeared to be worth his attention… Finally he turned around.
“What are you doing, little one?” he asked.
“Hunting evil insects, you see.”
“So you are a hunter?”
“Kind of… Hunter in training one could call it,” I said. “But I can shoot a bow just like you. Just like a real elf.”
He didn’t even smile and continued shooting slugs.
“So what is an elf doing in the Shire-lands?”
He stopped and became thoughtful for a moment. “I am going to live here,” he said finally. “It is a good place.”
“An elf living in the Shire? But why would you..?” that sounded a bit impolite I guess. “Well, well, the Shire is a great and cosy place indeed, and I suppose you travelled a lot before to see many other places?”
“That is true. Far east from here and west until the Sea. Concerning my wish to live in the Shire, the reason is that I do not like elves.”
“Elves, you say? I thought you were an elf yourself, a real one.”
“I am,” he said sadly. “But still I do not like my own kin, since I am tired of their pomposity. What about you…”
“Me? What’s wrong with me?”
“Can you do a raft?”
Raft he said! That was completely elvish! I have never met a hobbit who would go rafting across rivers, neither can I imagine how to make a raft. Or did I get him wrong maybe?
“Raft? I don’t suppose so, is it a kind of elvish art?”
“No, no. Wait…” he fell silent as trying to remember the correct word. “I mean craft. O! I see you made a bow for yourself.”
That was true. A nice strong bow, just finished polishing it yesterday. But how did he guess it? Looks like it’s not just a fairy legend that elves can feel who the master is only by looking at a thing!
“Aye, that’s my piece of work. Do you think it’s good?”
But he just smiled and didn’t answer anything. Suddenly I felt like I was annoying him.
“All right, good elf, I don’t dare to bother you any more,” I said. “Be welcome to the Shire and good evening.”
“Once we will meet on a hunt again, little one.”
And then I rushed to Needlehole not even glancing back.
Now I can’t put out of my head two things. The first one is launching a raft. Should I maybe try it? Perhaps when crossing the Brandywine river on my way to Bree… And another one is that the elf said, “We’ll meet again,” and I wonder if it was a kind of promise?
