There came a night when suddenly they saw many lights away south in Dale before them.
That night the dwarves slept little. In the early morning they saw a company approaching. The warriors came up to the valley’s head and climbed slowly up. Soon they were greatly surprised to see the pool before them and the Gate blocked with a wall of stone.
And then Thorin called in a very loud voice:
“Who are you? Why have you come to the gates of Thorin son of Thrain, King under the Mountain, and what do you want?”
But they answered nothing. Some turned swiftly back, and the others soon followed them. That day the camp was moved and was brought between the arms of the Mountain. The elves started playing their sweet music.
Then the dwarves themselves made music to soften Thorin’s mood; their song was like the song they had sung long before in Bilbo’s little hobbit-hole.
“Under the Mountain dark and tall
The King has come into his hall!
His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread,
And ever so his foes will fall.”
This song pleased Thorin, and he smiled again.
The next morning a company of spearmen crossed the river, and marched up the valley. They bore with them the green banner of the Elvenking and the blue banner of the Lake, and they stood before the wall at the Gate. Again Thorin said in a loud voice:
“Who are you and why have you come to the gates of Thorin son of Thrain, King under the Mountain?”
A tall man cried:
“Hail Thorin! We are not yet foes, and we are glad that you are alive. We have come to talk.”
“Who are you, and what would you like to talk about?”
“I am Bard, I killed the dragon and so you could get your treasures. I am by right descent the heir of Girion of Dale, and in your hall there is wealth which Smaug stole from the town. Is not that a matter of which we can talk? Also, in his last battle, Smaug destroyed the houses of the men of Esgaroth, and I am yet the servant of their Master. I would like to ask you for recompense.” It was true and fair. And Bilbo thought that Thorin would show generosity and help those in need. But Thorin didn’t want to think about poor people.
“You put your worst cause last and in the chief place,” Thorin answered. “To the treasure of my people no man has a claim, because Smaug who stole it from us also robbed us of life or home. The treasure was not his. The price of the goods and the assistance that we received of the Lake-men we will fairly pay. But we will give nothing under threat of force. While an army lies before our doors, we look on you as foes and thieves.”
“But still my other claims remain unanswered,” replied Bard.
“I will not discuss any questions, as I have said, with armed men at my gate. And if you would like to speak with me again, first send the elves away to the woods where they belong, and then return, laying down your arms before you approach the threshold.”
“The Elvenking is my friend, and he has helped the people of the Lake,” answered Bard. “We will give you time to change your mind. Gather your wisdom before we return!” Then he went back to the camp.
In a few hours the banner-bearers returned and cried:
“In the name of Esgaroth and the Forest, we speak to Thorin Thrain’s son Oakenshield, calling himself the King under the Mountain, and we ask him to consider well our claims, or be declared our foe. He should give one twelfth portion of the treasure to Bard, as the dragon-slayer, and as the heir of Girion. From that portion Bard will himself contribute to the aid of Esgaroth; but if Thorin would like to have the friendship and respect of the lands about, then he will give also some gold for the comfort of the men of the Lake.” Then Thorin shot an arrow at the speaker. It got into his shield.
“Since such is your answer,” the speaker called in return, “I declare the Mountain besieged. We will bear no weapons against you, but we leave you to your gold. You may eat that, if you want!”
So the dwarves were left to consider their situation. Most of them agreed with Thorin except perhaps old fat Bombur and Fili and Kili. Bilbo, of course, didn’t like what had happened.
“The whole place still stinks of dragon,” he said to himself, “and it makes me sick.”
Now the days passed slowly. Many of the dwarves spent their time piling and ordering the treasure; and now Thorin spoke of the Arkenstone of Thrain, and told them to look for it in every corner. “The Arkenstone of my father,” he said, “is worth more than a river of gold, and to me it is beyond price. I will revenge anyone who will find it and hide it.”
Bilbo heard these words and he got frightened. The stone was wrapped in an old bundle that he used as a pillow. But he did not speak of it, because he started thinking of a plan.
Soon the ravens brought news that Dain and more than five hundred dwarves, hurrying from the Iron Hills, were now within about two days’ march of Dale, coming from the North-East. “But they cannot reach the Mountain safely,” said Rac, “and I fear there will be battle in the valley. I do not think that the dwarves will overcome your foes. Anyway, winter is coming. How will you live without the friendship of the lands about you? The treasure can become your death, though the dragon is no more!”
But Thorin was not moved. “Winter and snow will bite both men and elves,” he said. “With my friends behind them and winter upon them, they will perhaps talk in a different way.”
That night Bilbo made up his mind. The sky was black and moonless. He went to a corner of an inner room just within the gate and drew from his bundle a rope, and also the Arkenstone wrapped in a rag. Then he climbed to the top of the wall. Only Bombur was there, because it was his turn to watch.
“It is really cold!” said Bombur.
“It is warm enough inside,” said Bilbo.
“But I have to stay here till midnight,” said the fat dwarf.
“I will take your turn for you, if you like. I don’t feel sleepy tonight.”
“You are a good fellow, Mr Baggins, and I will take your offer kindly. If there is anything to note, rouse me first! I will lie in the inner room to the left, not far away.”
“Off you go!” said Bilbo. “I will wake you at midnight, and you can wake the next watchman.” As soon as Bombur had gone, Bilbo put on his ring, fastened his rope, slipped down over the wall, and was gone.
He had about five hours before him. Bombur was sleeping; and all the others were busy with Thorin. It was very dark, and the road was strange to him. At last he came to the bend where he had to cross the water to get to the camp. He was almost across when he fell into the cold water with a splash. He had just got out on the far bank, when elves came up with bright lanterns.
“There is a spy about. Hide your lights!” said one of them.
“I am here, if you want me!” said Bilbo and he slipped off his ring.
They seized him quickly. “Who are you? Are you the dwarves’ hobbit? What are you doing? How did you get so far past our watchmen?” they asked.
“I am Mr Bilbo Baggins,” he answered, “companion of Thorin, if you want to know. I know your king well, though perhaps he doesn’t know me. But Bard will remember me, and I want to see Bard. I have only an hour or two.”
So now Bilbo was sitting beside a warm fire in front of a large tent with the Elvenking and Bard. A hobbit in elvish armour, partly wrapped in an old blanket, was something new to them.
“You know,” Bilbo said, “things are impossible. Personally I am tired of the whole affair. But I have an interest in this matter – one fourteenth share, according to a letter, which I have with me.” He took out from a pocket in his old jacket Thorin’s letter that had been put under the clock on his mantelpiece in May! “Personally I am ready to consider all your claims carefully. However you don’t know Thorin Oakenshield well enough. I assure you, he is quite ready to sit on a heap of gold and starve, as long as you sit here.”
“Well, let him!” said Bard. “Such a fool deserves to starve.”
“Quite so,” said Bilbo. “I see your point of view. At the same time winter is coming on fast. Soon there will be snow, and supplies will be difficult – even for elves. Also there will be other difficulties. Have you heard of Dain and the dwarves of the Iron Hills?”
“We have, a long time ago; but what has he got to do with us?” asked the king.
“I see I have some information which you have not got. Dain is now less than two days’ march off, and has at least five hundred dwarves with him – really good warriors. When they arrive there will be serious trouble.”
“Why do you tell us this? Are you betraying your friends, or are you threatening us?” asked Bard gloomily.
“My dear Bard!” said Bilbo. “Don’t hurry! I am just trying to avoid trouble for all. Now I will make you an offer!”
“Let us hear it!” they said.
“It is this!” and he showed them the Arkenstone.
The Elvenking himself stood up in amazement. Even Bard gazed at it in silence.
“This is the Arkenstone of Thrain,” said Bilbo, “the Heart of the Mountain; and it is also the heart of Thorin. He values it above a river of gold. I give it to you. It will help you in your talks with Thorin.” Then Bilbo handed the marvellous stone to Bard, and he held it in his hand.
“I am going back now, and the dwarves can do what they like to me. I hope you will find it useful,” added Bilbo. The Elvenking looked at Bilbo with a new wonder.
“Bilbo Baggins!” he said. “You are more worthy to wear the armour of elf-princes than many others. I advise you to remain with us, and here you will be honoured.”