[Child of the 7th Age]

The Shirriffs and Cami - 31 October

Hob watched as Olo resolutely stamped out the remains of the fire to obliterate any signs of the Shirriffs ever having camped in the grove. Within a few moments, the three hobbits had pulled on their packs and were again heading out of camp, careful to keep their distance from the other band but still following close enough to see clearly where their track was leading without fear of getting lost. It was more difficult than it had been before, since there were only a few sheltering groves of trees to hide their movements along the river. Once or twice, they'd actually had to dive for cover in the Shirebourne and stay under water until the band ahead had dipped around a bend just out of sight.

After an hour or two of silent tracking, Brass had sprinted down the trail ahead of the others, drawn on by the hope of finding some berry bushes growing near the river for a little mid-morning snack. Scanning the ground from side-to-side and looking cautiously ahead, he came to an abrupt halt just outside a clearing near the water, in his panic pitching headfirst into a patch of tangled brush.

As Hob and Olo made their way forward debating the merits of certain varieties of pipeweed, Brass recovered enough to sit up and wave his arms madly, whispering a word of warning. "Shh! Be quiet. They're right there, up ahead. They've stopped for a minute by the river. I think they're talking about heading to the southwest across the fields towards the town of Longbottom. And look! One of them has a pony now."

Olo immediately got down on the ground and crawled forward, being careful to shield his body from sight. Hob quickly followed suit.

"Our bad luck!" muttered Olo between clenched teeth. "It will be hard to keep our cover when we have to cut across open fields. We'll have to stay alert, and keep far behind, perhaps crawling forward in spots."

Hob and Brass exchanged nervous glances at the unpleasant prospect of having to inch their bodies along the ground. But neither of them could really suggest an acceptable alternative. Hob crept up to an opening in the bushes and cautiosly stuck his head through to have a better look at the band of hobbits who were sprawled out relaxing on the ground. Indeed, one of the band had a pony, and the beast looked strangely familiar to Hob. He looked once, then twice, and gasped in recognition. For the pony was definitely Dandelion, one of the steeds in the Brandybuck stables! The pony had lowered his head and was gently nudging one of the hobbits lying in the tall grass who had apparently fallen asleep. One quick glance at the sleeping form told Hob all that he ever wanted to know, for the prostrate and sleeping hobbit with her wild brown curls and plump curves was definitely Cami. She sat no more than ten paces distant. With a clatter and a bang, Hob drew back in absolute alarm, but not before Cami opened her eyes, stared blankly into his own, and began to shriek out in panic.

[ October 12, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]