towers

treebeard 631
The hobbits fell asleep to the sound of the soft singing of
Bregalad, that seemed to lament in many tongues the fall of
trees that he had loved.
The next day they spent also in his company, but they did
not go far from his ‘house’. Most of the time they sat silent
under the shelter of the bank; for the wind was colder, and
the clouds closer and greyer; there was little sunshine, and in
the distance the voices of the Ents at the Moot still rose and
fell, sometimes loud and strong, sometimes low and sad,
sometimes quickening, sometimes slow and solemn as a
dirge. A second night came and still the Ents held conclave
under hurrying clouds and fitful stars.
The third day broke, bleak and windy. At sunrise the Ents’
voices rose to a great clamour and then died down again. As
the morning wore on the wind fell and the air grew heavy
with expectancy. The hobbits could see that Bregalad was
now listening intently, although to them, down in the dell of
his ent-house, the sound of the Moot was faint.
The afternoon came, and the sun, going west towards the
mountains, sent out long yellow beams between the cracks
and fissures of the clouds. Suddenly they were aware that
everything was very quiet; the whole forest stood in listening
silence. Of course, the Ent-voices had stopped. What did that
mean? Bregalad was standing up erect and tense, looking
back northwards towards Derndingle.
Then with a crash came a great ringing shout: ra-hoom-rah!
The trees quivered and bent as if a gust had struck them.
There was another pause, and then a marching music began
like solemn drums, and above the rolling beats and booms
there welled voices singing high and strong.
We come, we come with roll of drum: ta-runda runda runda
rom!
The Ents were coming: ever nearer and louder rose their
song: