Ask us! ask us! said Gollum.
Bilbo pinched himself and slapped himself; he gripped on his little sword; he even felt in his pocket with his other hand. There he found the ring he had picked up in the passage and forgotten about. What have I got in my pocket? he said aloud. He was talking to himself, but Gollum thought it was a riddle, and he was frightfully upset. Not fair! not fair! he hissed. It isnt fair, my precious, is it, to ask us what its got in its nassty little pocketses?
Bilbo seeing what had happened and having nothing better to ask stuck to his question. What have I got in my pocket? he said louder. S-s-s-s-s, hissed Gollum. It must give us three guesseses, my preciouss, three guesseses.
Very well! Guess away! said Bilbo.
Handses! said Gollum.
Wrong, said Bilbo, who had luckily just taken his hand out again. Guess again!
S-s-s-s-s, said Gollum more upset than ever. He thought of all the things he kept in his own pockets: fishbones, goblins teeth, wet shells, a bit of bat-wing, a sharp stone to sharpen his fangs on, and other nasty things. He tried to think what other people kept in their pockets. Knife! he said at last.
Wrong! said Bilbo, who had lost his some time ago. Last guess! Now Gollum was in a much worse state than when Bilbo had asked him the egg-question. He hissed and spluttered and rocked himself backwards and forwards, and slapped his feet on the floor, and wriggled and squirmed; but still he did not dare to waste his last guess.
Come on! said Bilbo. I am waiting! He tried to sound bold and cheerful, but he did not feel at all sure how the game was going to end, whether Gollum guessed right or not.
Times up! he said.
String, or nothing! shrieked Gollum, which was not quite fair-working in two guesses at once.
Both wrong, cried Bilbo very much relieved; and he jumped at once to his feet, put his back to the nearest wall, and held out his little sword. He knew, of course, that the riddle-game was sacred and of immense antiquity, and even wicked creatures were afraid to cheat when they played at it. But he felt he could not trust this slimy thing to keep any promise at a pinch. Any excuse would do for him to slide out of it. And after all that last question had not been a genuine riddle according to the ancient laws.
But at any rate Gollum did not at once attack him. He could see the sword in Bilbos hand. He sat still, shivering and whispering. At last Bilbo could wait no longer.
Well? he said. What about your promise? I want to go. You must show me the way.
Did we say so, precious? Show the nassty little Baggins the way out, yes, yes. But what has it got in its pocketses, eh? Not string, precious, but not nothing. Oh no! gollum!
Never you mind, said Bilbo. A promise is a promise. Cross it is, impatient, precious, hissed Gollum. But it must wait, yes it must. We cant go up the tunnels so hasty. We must go and get some things first, yes, things to help us.
Well, hurry up! said Bilbo, relieved to think of Gollum going away. He
thought he was just making an excuse and did not mean to come back. What was Gollum talking about? What useful thing could he keep out on the dark lake?
But he was wrong. Gollum did mean to come back. He was angry now and hungry.
And he was a miserable wicked creature, and already he had a plan. Not far away was his island, of which Bilbo knew nothing, and there in his hiding-place he kept a few wretched oddments, and one very beautiful thing, very beautiful, very wonderful. He had a ring, a golden ring, a precious ring.
My birthday-present! he whispered to himself, as he had often done in the endless dark days. Thats what we wants now, yes; we wants it! He wanted it because it was a ring of power, and if you slipped that ring on your finger, you were invisible; only in the full sunlight could you be seen, and then only by your shadow, and that would be shaky and faint. My birthday-present! It came to me on my birthday, my precious, So he had always said to himself. But who knows how Gollum came by that present, ages ago in the old days when such rings were still at large in the world? Perhaps even the Master who ruled them could not have said. Gollum used to wear it at first, till it tired him; and then he kept it in a pouch next his skin, till it galled him; and now usually he hid it in a hole in the rock on his island, and was always going back to look at it. And still sometimes he put it on, when he could not bear to be parted from it any longer, or when he was very, very, hungry, and tired of fish. Then he would creep along dark passages looking for stray goblins. He might even venture into places where the torches were lit and made his eyes blink and smart; for he would be safe. Oh yes, quite safe. No one would see him, no one would notice him, till he had his fingers on their throat. Only a few hours ago he had worn it, and caught a small goblin-imp. How it squeaked! He still had a bone or two left to gnaw, but he wanted something softer.
Quite safe, yes, he whispered to himself. It wont see us, will it, my precious? No. It wont see us, and its nassty little sword will be useless, yes quite.
That is what was in his wicked little mind, as he slipped suddenly from Bilbos side, and flapped back to his boat, and went off into the dark. Bilbo thought he had heard the last of him. Still he waited a while; for he had no idea how to find his way out alone.
Suddenly he heard a screech. It sent a shiver down his back. Gollum was cursing and wailing away in the gloom, not very far off by the sound of it. He was on his island, scrabbling here and there, searching and seeking in vain. Where is it? Where iss it? Bilbo heard him crying. Losst it is, my precious, lost, lost! Curse us and crush us, my precious is lost! Whats the matter? Bilbo called. What have you lost? It mustnt ask us, shrieked Gollum. Not its business, no, gollum! Its losst, gollum, gollum, gollum.
Well, so am I, cried Bilbo, and I want to get unlost. And I won the game, and you promised. So come along! Come and let me out, and then go on with your looking!
Utterly miserable as Gollum sounded, Bilbo could not find much pity in his heart, and he had a feeling that anything Gollum wanted so much could hardly be something good.
Come along! he shouted.
No, not yet, precious! Gollum answered. We must search for it, its lost, gollum.
But you never guessed my last question, and you promised, said Bilbo. Never guessed! said Gollum. Then suddenly out of the gloom came a sharp hiss. What has it got in its pocketses? Tell us that. It must tell first. As far as Bilbo knew, there was no particular reason why he should not tell. Gollums mind had jumped to a guess quicker than his; naturally, for Gollum had brooded for ages on this one thing, and he was always afraid of its being stolen. But Bilbo was annoyed at the delay. After all, he had won the game, pretty fairly, at a horrible risk. Answers were to be guessed not given, he said.
But it wasnt a fair question, said Gollum. Not a riddle, precious, no.
Oh well, if its a matter of ordinary questions, Bilbo replied, then I asked one first. What have you lost? Tell me that!
What has it got in its pocketses? The sound came hissing louder and sharper, and as he looked towards it, to his alarm Bilbo now saw two small points of light peering at him. As suspicion grew in Gollums mind, the light of his eyes burned with a pale flame.
What have you lost? Bilbo persisted. But now the light in Gollums eyes had become a green fire, and it was coming swiftly nearer. Gollum was in his boat again, paddling wildly back to the dark shore; and such a rage of loss and suspicion was in his heart that no sword had any more terror for him. Bilbo could not guess what had maddened the wretched creature, but he saw that all was up, and that Gollum meant to murder him at any rate. Just in time he turned and ran blindly back up the dark passage down which he had come, keeping close to the wall and feeling it with his left hand. What has it got in its pocketses? he heard the hiss loud behind him, and the splash as Gollum leapt from his boat.
What have I, I wonder? he said to himself, as he panted and stumbled along. He put his left hand in his pocket. The ring felt very cold as it quietly slipped on to his groping forefinger.
The hiss was close behind him. He turned now and saw Gollums eyes like small green lamps coming up the slope. Terrified he tried to run faster, but suddenly he struck his toes on a snag in the floor, and fell flat with his little sword under him.
In a moment Gollum was on him. But before Bilbo could do anything, recover his breath, pick himself up, or wave his sword, Gollum passed by, taking no notice of him, cursing and whispering as he ran. What could it mean? Gollum could see in the dark. Bilbo could see the light of his eyes palely shining even from behind. Painfully he got up, and sheathed his sword, which was now glowing faintly again, then very cautiously he followed. There seemed nothing else to do. It was no good crawling back down to Gollums water. Perhaps if he followed him, Gollum might lead him to some way of escape without meaning to.
Curse it! curse it! curse it! hissed Gollum. Curse the Baggins! Its gone! What has it got in its pocketses? Oh we guess, we guess, my precious. Hes found it, yes he must have. My birthday-present. Bilbo pricked up his ears. He was at last beginning to guess himself. H^ hurried a little, getting as close as he dared behind Gollum, who was still going quickly, not looking back, but turning his head from side to side, as Bilbo could see from the faint glimmer on the walls.
My birthday-present! Curse it! How did we lose it, my precious? Yes, thats it. When we came this way last, when we twisted that nassty young squeaker. Thats it. Curse it! It slipped from us, after all these ages and ages! Its gone, gollum.
Suddenly Gollum sat down and began to weep, a whistling and gurgling sound horrible to listen to. Bilbo halted and flattened himself against the tunnel-wall. After a while Gollum stopped weeping and began to talk. He seemed to be having an argument with himself.
Its no good going back there to search, no. We doesnt remember all the places weve visited. And its no use. The Baggins has got it in its pocketses; the nassty noser has found it, we says.
We guesses, precious, only guesses. We cant know till we find the nassty creature and squeezes it. But it doesnt know what the present can do, does it? Itll just keep it in its pocketses. It doesnt know, and it cant go far. Its lost itself, the nassty nosey thing. It doesnt know the way out It said so.
It said so, yes; but its tricksy. It doesnt say what it means. It wont say what its got in its pocketses. It knows. It knows a way in, it must know a way out, yes. Its off to the back-door. To the back-door, thats it.
The goblinses will catch it then. It cant get out that way, precious. Ssss, sss, gollum! Goblinses! Yes, but if its got the present, our precious present, then goblinses will get it, gollum! Theyll find it, theyll find out what it does. We shant ever be safe again, never, gollum! One of the goblinses will put it on, and then no one will see him. Hell be there but not seen. Not even our clever eyeses will notice him; and hell come creepsy and tricksy and catch us, gollum, gollum!
Then lets stop talking, precious, and make haste. If the Baggins has gone that way, we must go quick and see. Go! Not far now. Make haste! With a spring Gollum got up and started shambling off at a great pace. Bilbo hurried after him, still cautiously, though his chief fear now was of tripping on another snag and falling with a noise. His head was in a whirl of hope and wonder. It seemed that the ring he had was a magic ring: it made you invisible! He had heard of such things, of course, in old old tales; but it was hard to believe that he really had found one, by accident. Still there it was: Gollum with his bright eyes had passed him by, only a yard to one side. On they went, Gollum flip-flapping ahead, hissing and cursing; Bilbo behind going as softly as a hobbit can. Soon they came to places where, as Bilbo had noticed on the way down, side-passages opened, this way and that. Gollum began at once to count them.
One left, yes. One right, yes. Two right, yes, yes. Two left, yes, yes. And so on and on.
As the count grew he slowed down, and he began to get shaky and weepy; for he was leaving the water further and further behind, and he was getting afraid. Goblins might be about, and he had lost his ring. At last he stopped by a low opening, on their left as they went up.
Seven right, yes. Six left, yes! he whispered. This is it. This is the way to the back-door, yes. Heres the passage!
He peered in, and shrank back. But we durstnt go in, precious, no we durstnt. Goblinses down there. Lots of goblinses. We smells them. Ssss! What shall we do? Curse them and crush them! We must wait here, precious, wait a bit and see.
So they came to a dead stop. Gollum had brought Bilbo to the way out after all, but Bilbo could not get in! There was Gollum sitting humped up right in the opening, and his eyes gleamed cold in his head, as he swayed it from side to side between his knees.
Bilbo crept away from the wall more quietly than a mouse; but Gollum stiffened at once, and sniffed, and his eyes went green. He hissed softly but menacingly. He could not see the hobbit, but now he was on the alert, and he had other senses that the darkness had sharpened: hearing and smell. He seemed to be crouched right down with his flat hands splayed on the floor, and his head thrust out, nose almost to the stone. Though he was only a black shadow in the gleam of his own eyes, Bilbo could see or feel that he was tense as a bowstring, gathered for a spring.
Bilbo almost stopped breathing, and went stiff himself. He was desperate. He must get away, out of this horrible darkness, while he had any strength left. He must fight. He must stab the foul thing, put its eyes out, kill it. It meant to kill him. No, not a fair fight. He was invisible now. Gollum had no sword. Gollum had not actually threatened to kill him, or tried to yet. And he was miserable, alone, lost. A sudden understanding, a pity mixed with horror, welled up in Bilbos heart: a glimpse of endless unmarked days without light or hope of betterment, hard stone, cold fish, sneaking and whispering. All these thoughts passed in a flash of a second. He trembled. And then quite suddenly in another flash, as if lifted by a new strength and resolve, he leaped.