towers

the white rider 651
I thought they were only a memory of ancient days, if indeed
they were ever more than a legend of Rohan.’
‘A legend of Rohan!’ cried Legolas. ‘Nay, every Elf in
Wilderland has sung songs of the old Onodrim and their long
sorrow. Yet even among us they are only a memory. If I were
to meet one still walking in this world, then indeed I should
feel young again! But Treebeard: that is only a rendering of
Fangorn into the Common Speech; yet you seem to speak of
a person. Who is this Treebeard?’
‘Ah! now you are asking much,’ said Gandalf. ‘The little
that I know of his long slow story would make a tale for which
we have no time now. Treebeard is Fangorn, the guardian of
the forest; he is the oldest of the Ents, the oldest living thing
that still walks beneath the Sun upon this Middle-earth. I
hope indeed, Legolas, that you may yet meet him. Merry and
Pippin have been fortunate: they met him here, even where
we sit. For he came here two days ago and bore them away
to his dwelling far off by the roots of the mountains. He often
comes here, especially when his mind is uneasy, and rumours
of the world outside trouble him. I saw him four days ago
striding among the trees, and I think he saw me, for he
paused; but I did not speak, for I was heavy with thought,
and weary after my struggle with the Eye of Mordor; and he
did not speak either, nor call my name.’
‘Perhaps he also thought that you were Saruman,’ said
Gimli. ‘But you speak of him as if he was a friend. I thought
Fangorn was dangerous.’
‘Dangerous!’ cried Gandalf. ‘And so am I, very dangerous:
more dangerous than anything you will ever meet, unless you
are brought alive before the seat of the Dark Lord. And
Aragorn is dangerous, and Legolas is dangerous. You are
beset with dangers, Gimli son of Glóin; for you are dangerous
yourself, in your own fashion. Certainly the forest of Fangorn
is perilous – not least to those that are too ready with their
axes; and Fangorn himself, he is perilous too; yet he is wise
and kindly nonetheless. But now his long slow wrath is
brimming over, and all the forest is filled with it. The coming