return

1314 the return of the king
their first really painful shock. This was Frodo and Sam’s
own country, and they found out now that they cared about
it more than any other place in the world. Many of the houses
that they had known were missing. Some seemed to have
been burned down. The pleasant row of old hobbit-holes in
the bank on the north side of the Pool were deserted, and
their little gardens that used to run down bright to the water’s
edge were rank with weeds. Worse, there was a whole line of
the ugly new houses all along Pool Side, where the Hobbiton
Road ran close to the bank. An avenue of trees had stood
there. They were all gone. And looking with dismay up the
road towards Bag End they saw a tall chimney of brick in the
distance. It was pouring out black smoke into the evening air.
Sam was beside himself. ‘I’m going right on, Mr. Frodo!’
he cried. ‘I’m going to see what’s up. I want to find my
gaffer.’
‘We ought to find out first what we’re in for, Sam,’ said
Merry. ‘I guess that the ‘‘Chief ’’ will have a gang of ruffians
handy. We had better find someone who will tell us how
things are round here.’
But in the village of Bywater all the houses and holes were
shut, and no one greeted them. They wondered at this, but
they soon discovered the reason of it. When they reached
The Green Dragon, the last house on the Hobbiton side, now
lifeless and with broken windows, they were disturbed to
see half a dozen large ill-favoured Men lounging against the
inn-wall; they were squint-eyed and sallow-faced.
‘Like that friend of Bill Ferny’s at Bree,’ said Sam.
‘Like many that I saw at Isengard,’ muttered Merry.
The ruffians had clubs in their hands and horns by their
belts, but they had no other weapons, as far as could be seen.
As the travellers rode up they left the wall and walked into
the road, blocking the way.
‘Where d’you think you’re going?’ said one, the largest and
most evil-looking of the crew. ‘There’s no road for you any
further. And where are those precious Shirriffs?’