towers

treebeard 623
Entings, I did. Well, you can lie on the bed. I am going to
stand in the rain. Good night!’
Merry and Pippin climbed on to the bed and curled up
in the soft grass and fern. It was fresh, and sweet-scented,
and warm. The lights died down, and the glow of the trees
faded; but outside under the arch they could see old Treebeard
standing, motionless, with his arms raised above
his head. The bright stars peered out of the sky, and lit
the falling water as it spilled on to his fingers and head,
and dripped, dripped, in hundreds of silver drops on to his
feet. Listening to the tinkling of the drops the hobbits fell
asleep.
They woke to find a cool sun shining into the great court,
and on to the floor of the bay. Shreds of high cloud were
overhead, running on a stiff easterly wind. Treebeard was
not to be seen; but while Merry and Pippin were bathing in
the basin by the arch, they heard him humming and singing,
as he came up the path between the trees.
‘Hoo, ho! Good morning, Merry and Pippin!’ he boomed,
when he saw them. ‘You sleep long. I have been many a
hundred strides already today. Now we will have a drink, and
go to Entmoot.’
He poured them out two full bowls from a stone jar; but
from a different jar. The taste was not the same as it had
been the night before: it was earthier and richer, more sustaining
and food-like, so to speak. While the hobbits drank, sitting
on the edge of the bed, and nibbling small pieces of elf-cake
(more because they felt that eating was a necessary part of
breakfast than because they felt hungry), Treebeard stood,
humming in Entish or Elvish or some strange tongue, and
looking up at the sky.
‘Where is Entmoot?’ Pippin ventured to ask.
‘Hoo, eh? Entmoot?’ said Treebeard, turning round. ‘It is
not a place, it is a gathering of Ents – which does not often
happen nowadays. But I have managed to make a fair number
promise to come. We shall meet in the place where we have