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cries； butthe light was now gone； and clinging night had closed about him； so that itwas impossible to be sure of any direction。 He seemed all the time to beclimbing up and up。
Only the change in the level of the ground at his feet told him when heat last came to the top of a ridge or hill。 He was weary； sweating and yetchilled。 It was wholly dark。
'Where are you？' he cried out miserably。
There was no reply。 He stood listening。 He was suddenly aware that it wasgetting very cold； and that up here a wind was beginning to blow； an icy wind。
A change was ing in the weather。 The mist was flowing past him now inshreds and tatters。 His breath was smoking； and the darkness was less near andthick。 He looked up and saw with surprise that faint stars were appearingoverhead amid the strands of hurrying cloud and fog。 The wind began to hissover the grass。
He imagined suddenly that he caught a muffled cry； and he made towardsit； and even as he went forward the mist was rolled up and thrust aside； andthe starry sky was unveiled。 A glance showed him that he was now facingsouthwards and was on a round hill…top； which he must have climbed from thenorth。 Out of the east the biting wind was blowing。 To his right there loomedagainst the westward stars a dark black shape。 A great barrow stood there。
'Where are you？' he cried again； both angry and afraid。
'Here！' said a voice； deep and cold； that seemed to e out of theground。 'I am waiting for you！'
'No！' said Frodo； but he did not run away。 His knees gave； and he fell onthe ground。 Nothing happened； and there was no sound。 Trembling he looked up；
in time to see a tall dark figure like a shadow against the stars。 It leanedover him。 He thought there were two eyes； very cold though lit with a palelight that seemed to e from some remote distance。 Then a grip stronger andcolder than iron seized him。 The icy touch froze his bones； and he rememberedno more。
When he came to himself again； for a moment he could recall nothingexcept a sense of dread。 Then suddenly he knew that he was imprisoned； caughthopelessly； he was in a barrow。 A Barrow…wight had taken him； and he wasprobably already under the dreadful spells of the Barrow…wights about whichwhispered tales spoke。 He dared not move； but lay as he found himself： flat onhis back upon a cold stone with his hands on his breast。
But though his fear was so great that it seemed to be part of the verydarkness that was round him； he found himself as he lay thinking about BilboBaggins and his stories； of their jogging along together in the lanes of theShire and talking about roads and adventures。 There is a seed of courage
hidden （often deeply； it is true） in the heart of the fattest and most timidhobbit； wailing for some final and desperate danger to make it grow。 Frodo wasneither very fat nor very timid； indeed； though he did not know it； Bilbo （andGandalf） had thought him the best hobbit in the Shire。 He thought he had eto the end of his adventure； and a terrible end； but the thought hardened him。
He found himself stiffening； as if for a final spring； he no longer felt limplike a helpless prey。
As he lay there； thinking and getting a hold of himself； he noticed allat once that the darkness was slowly giving way： a pale greenish light wasgrowing round him。 It did not at first show him what kind of a place he wasin； for the light seemed to be ing out of himself； and from the floorbeside him； and had not yet reached the roof or wall。 He turned； and there inthe cold glow he saw lying beside him Sam； Pippin； and Merry。 They were ontheir backs； and their faces looked deathly pale； and they were clad in white。
About them lay many treasures； of gold maybe； though in that light they lookedcold and unlovely。 On their heads were circlets； gold chains were about theirwaists； and on their fingers were many rings。 Swords lay by their sides； andshields were at their feet。 But across their three necks lay one long nakedsword。
Suddenly a song began： a cold murmur； rising and falling。 The voiceseemed far away and immeasurably dreary； sometimes high in the air and thin；
sometimes like a low moan from the ground。 Out of the formless stream of sadbut horrible sounds； strings of words would now and again shape themselves：
grim； hard； cold words； heartless and miserable。 The night was railing againstthe morning of which it was bereaved； and the cold was cursing the warmth forwhich it hungered。 Frodo was chilled to the marrow。 After a while the songbecame clearer； and with dread in his heart he perceived that it had changedinto an incantation：
Cold be hand and heart and bone；
and cold be sleep under stone：
never mare to wake on stony bed；
never； till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead。
In the black wind the stars shall die；
and still on gold here let them lie；
till the dark lord lifts his hand
over dead sea and withered land。
He heard behind his head a creaking and scraping sound。 Raising himselfon one arm he looked； and saw now in the pale light that they were in a kindof passage which behind them turned a corner。 Round the corner a long arm wasgroping； walking on its fingers towards Sam； who was lying nearest； andtowards the hilt of the sword that lay upon him。
At first Frodo felt as if he had indeed been turned into stone by theincantation。 Then a wild thought of escape came to him。 He wondered if he puton the Ring； whether the Barrow…wight would miss him； and he might find someway out。 He thought of himself running free over the grass； grieving forMerry； and Sam； and Pippin； but free and alive himself。 Gandalf would admitthat there had been nothing else he could do。
But the courage that had been awakened in him was now too strong： hecould not leave his friends so easily。 He wavered； groping in his pocket； andthen fought with himself again； and as he did so the arm crept nearer。
Suddenly resolve hardened in him； and he seized a short sword that lay besidehim； and kneeling he stooped low over the bodies of his panions。 With whatstrength he had he hewed at the crawling arm near the wrist； and the handbroke off； but at the same moment the sword splintered up to the hilt。 Therewas a shriek and the light vanished。 In the dark there was a snarling noise。
Frodo fell forward over Merry； and Merry's face felt cold。 All at onceback into his mind； from which it had disappeared with the first ing of thefog； came the memory of the house down under the Hill； and of Tom singing。 He
remembered the rhyme that Tom had taught them。 In a small desperate voice hebegan： _Ho！ Tom Bombadil！_ and with that name his voice seemed to grow strong：
it had a full and lively sound； and the dark chamber echoed as if to drum andtrumpet。
Ho！ Tom Bombadil； Tom Bombadillo！
By water； wood and hill； by the reed and willow；
By fire； sun and moon； harken now and hear us！
e； Tom Bombadil； for our need is near us！
There was a sudden deep silence； in which Frodo could hear his heartbeating。 After a long slow moment he heard plain； but far away； as if it wasing down through the ground or through thick walls； an answering voicesinging：
Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow；
Bright blue his jacket is； and his boots are yellow。
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