[piosenniel]

Ben motioned for the Hobbits to gather round the small fire. It was still night and now that the excitement of besting the monster in the grass was done, the chilly breeze had become more noticeable, and several of the companions stood shivering and hugging themselves to keep warm.

‘Miri, throw some wore sticks and little branches on the fire. Get it roaring! We’ll all freeze to death before we even try to find our own way.’

The night passed fitfully for the group despite the warmth and light of the little blaze. They huddled together, more out of fear than cold, and most caught only a few winks of sleep before startling out of their doze when a strange noise was heard.

For his part, the dog kept them good company, requiring for his services only a few scraps of leftover fish which he gulped down skin, tails, head, fins, and bones altogether. Smiling, or so it seemed to them, his great lips pulled back from his teeth. Tail thumping with delight he yipped a little as the last of the fish was thrown him. Then, settling down near the group, his body throwing off some welcome heat, he dozed along with them. His ears twitched as he slept when some sound came to them, and a low growl would issue from him now and then at some hint of threat.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

The night passed, and the weak rays of the morning sun were brightening as they pushed through the trees at the east of their camp. Rosie and Falco went out to check the traps she had put out among the trees last night, before the incident with the ‘monster’. They returned, a little while later, smiles on their faces. There were five good-sized quail they held in their hands – enough for a half bird for each and one for the dog.

Penny, Ama, and Ferd, along with the dog, had dared the thicket of bushes to the south, and came back with their hands and pockets full of sweet blackberries growing wild amidst them. Ben laughed when he saw them return – their lips and the dog’s teeth were stained dark red from the berries’ juice.

Olo and Miri went east to, along the outskirts of the trees, gathering twigs and downed limbs for the morning fire. They had a nice little blaze going when the others returned, and a pleasant meal followed. The brightness of the day and full stomachs did much to improve the spirits of the companions, and soon with a little splash of water to freshen their faces and clean their hands they were ready to be off.

Ben crouched down, a small sharp stick in his hand, and drew in the dirt while the others finished their washing up and put out the fire.

‘What’s that?’ asked Mirabella, drawing near, and kneeling down beside him. The others came over, curious to see what he had drawn.

‘Old Ben gave us some directions when he left last night and I was trying to puzzle them out along with some other things he said when he and I talked together last evening.’ He stuck his stick on one of the lines he had drawn.

‘This is where we are now I think.’ With the stick he drew a line from that point curving slightly upwards. ‘Here’s the path he told us to stay on, the one he said would take us directly home. What worries me is that he didn’t tell us anything about what lies along this path, or how long it will take us to get back to Buckland.’ He sighed, and stood up, his hand dropping down to scratch the ears of the dog that had come up to stand beside him. ‘I suppose we have no other choice but to take him at his word.’

The dog plopped down his hind end on the crudely drawn map and snuffled at the lower pocket of Ben’s vest, the one with a few of the breakfast berries saved for munching on later. The dog’s tail thumped energetically as he gazed with longing at the pocket, effectively destroying any remnant of the crude map.

Ben laughed and pushed the voracious beast away. ‘You must wait just like the rest of us! Rations are short, I’m afraid.’ The dog stood a pouty look on his grey furred muzzle, and his tail drooped. His eyes lit with hope for a moment when Ben’s hand dipped into another pocket. But it was only a small tin whistle he pulled out. ‘Let’s have some music as we walk along,’ he called to his companions as he motioned them toward the path.

They fell in line, in two’s and three’s behind him. The warm sun was on their faces, and a fair wind at their backs. The dog danced among them as they walked, nearly tripping a few in his exuberance.

‘Hey dog! Watch what you’re doing!’ cried Penny as the great animal snaked around her legs.

‘You know,’ said Ben, speaking loudly over his shoulder, ‘since he seems to have decided he will come along with us – perhaps we should find a name that suits him. Anyone got any ideas . . .?’