Chapter 11. In which quiet is, as quiet does

Softly the little ones crept along, down the narrowing tunnel, towards the dimming light that beckoned them into the open air. Merry was first, as was only right, as he was the older cousin and responsible for looking after the younger one. It was an annoyance that Ferdi kept a firm grasp of one of his feet as first they crawled, and then squirmed forward, but it was also a reassurance that the littler hobbit was right behind him and wouldn’t lose himself--as if he could lose himself, hidden in a hollow log!

Merry wrinkled his nose at an unpleasant odour that wafted in at the opening of the log, brought by a chance breeze, a little puff of evening air to stir the sleepy leaves and blow the Sun to her rest, as in the bedtime stories Frodo had told him so many times. He winked away a little moisture that came with the thought of Frodo, and sniffled just a bit, bringing more of the musky smell to his nostrils. He hadn’t noticed it when they wormed their way into the log, but it was strong now, and for the first time in this adventure he thought of wild animals and the places they claimed for their dens. He was glad this log had proved empty!

But the odour made him frown. ‘Ferdi,’ he said.

‘What?’ piped the little voice behind him.

‘You didn’t,’ he said.

‘Didn’t what?’

‘Mess yourself, you didn’t mess your breeches, did you?’ He thought his littler cousin was past the time of accidents, but they had been in the log for a long time, several hours, if he reckoned correctly!

The littler cousin, insulted by such a suggestion, refused to dignify Merry’s question with an answer.

‘Ferdi!’

The only answer Merry had for his pains was a tighter squeeze on his ankle.

‘Ferdi! Did you?’

Silence.

‘Ferdi!’

To his disquiet, the hold on his ankle suddenly disappeared. Such insubordination must be swiftly dealt with, if he was to keep order at all.

‘Ferdi! If you don’t take hold this minute I shall leave you here and go on to Michel Delving by myself!’

The hold resumed itself, though Ferdi still would not speak, not to answer Merry’s repeated question, nor any other remark. If not for the tight hold on his ankle and the tickle of hot breath against his feet--and the bad smell, of course--he’d think himself all alone in that dark and confined place.

At last he stopped asking. They’d have to deal with Ferdi’s embarrassing problem when they were out of the log. Merry didn’t intend to put up with such a stench all the rest of the way to Michel Delving, no matter how close they were. And the Mayor wouldn’t take them seriously, if...

The stream, that was it, they’d go back to the stream, and Merry would make Ferdi wash out his things in safely ankle-deep water, no matter how cold and miserable the little rotter would be, putting on and wearing the wet things in the cool of the day. The mental image of his shivering cousin was both satisfying and uncomfortable to contemplate. But Ferdi deserved the misery, the better to teach him to mind himself in future.

I beg your...

Hush!

At last Merry reached the end of the log. He heard Ferdi give a whimper behind him as his body effectively filled the entrance, blocking the light, but he paused anyhow, to strain his ears.

Though he heard no voices, no snapping of twigs, no sound at all, not even birds singing their eventide songs, still, the hairs rose on the back of his neck. They were so close to Michel Delving, he certainly didn’t want the grown-ups to find them now and take them back! He thought perhaps someone might be hiding, just beyond the log--he saw the bushes quiver. No, it was just the little evening breeze, teasing again, and the musky smell washed more strongly around him, and was as quickly snatched away by the breeze.

Very quietly, he pushed with his free foot--much as he felt like kicking little Ferdi in the face, accidentally of course, as he pushed himself out of the entrance, well, it wasn’t the done thing. Very quietly, he eased himself into the open air.

As quiet as the small hobbits had been, the fox waiting above the opening had been quieter.