THE HOBBIT Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
Fire and Water
The dwarves sat in the darkness and silence for a very long time. They did not speak very much and they did not eat very much. They did not know how long they stayed there. Finally, after what felt like days and days, Thorin spoke, “Let’s try the secret door!” he said. “I must feel the wind on my face soon or I will die. I prefer to be killed by Smaug in the open air than suffocate in here!”
They discovered that part of the tunnel was blocked by broken rocks. The secret door would never open again. “We are trapped!” they shouted. “This is the end. We will all die here.” But somehow, just when the Dwarves were most afraid, Bilbo felt a strong sense of confidence.
“Come on, my good Dwarves!” he said. ‘As long as there is life, there is hope!’ as my father used to say, and ‘Third time pays for all.” I am going back down the tunnel again. I have been there twice already, when I knew there was a dragon at the other end. So I will take the risk and make a third visit, when I am not sure if he is there. And I think you should all come with me.”
The Dwarves were desperate, so they all agreed. Thorin went first, and walked beside Bilbo. Down, down they went. When they got close to the bottom, Bilbo put on his ring and walked forward alone. But he did not need the ring - it was totally and completely dark! In fact, it was so dark that Bilbo did not know it when he came out of the opening of the tunnel. He put his hand into open air and fell forward into the giant treasure chamber.
Bilbo stayed there for a long moment, not moving. He was terrified that Smaug would find him and eat him! But nothing happened. Bilbo could not take it anymore. “Come out, Smaug, you worm!” he shouted in a voice that sounded like a mouse. “Cook me and then eat me, if you want, if you can catch me!” There was no answer. Bilbo got up but he did not know which direction to go. It was black as night.
Bilbo called back to the Dwarves, “A light! I need a light!” So Fili and Kili quickly lit a torch and Bilbo ran back to get it. But Bilbo could not convince the other Dwarves to follow him into the chamber. Thorin carefully explained that Bilbo was still officially their expert burglar and investigator. So, if he wanted to use a light to explore the chamber, he was welcome to do it.
Bilbo looked at the Dwarves in frustration, turned his back to them, and walked towards the piles of treasure. As he climbed the large piles of gold and jewels, the Dwarves could see the little Hobbit holding the little torch. Then, far in the distance, they saw him stop and bend down, as if to look at something on the floor very closely. But the Dwarves did not know why. It was the Arkenstone, the Heart of the Mountain. That is what Bilbo guessed from the description Thorin gave him.
From a distance, Bilbo had seen the gem burning with a white glow. It pulled him towards it. He looked down at it now, and almost against his own control, he reached his little hand towards it. His hand could not close around it. It was large and heavy. But he lifted it and put it in his deepest pocket. “Now I am a real burglar!” he thought.
Bilbo’s little light disappeared into the distance, and the Dwarves did not need any more encouragement. They were very excited to explore the hall while they had the chance. They did not know where Smaug was, but they were going to take advantage of the opportunity while he was not there. They picked up the gold and filled their pockets. They felt the gems in their hands and observed the magnificent armor and weapons that were still in perfect condition.
The Dwarves completely forgot their fear of the dragon. The ancient desire of the Dwarves, the lust of the Dwarves for gold and treasure was very strong now. And Thorin was looking for one thing, and one thing only - the Arkenstone! But he could not find it, and he did not say anything to anyone about it yet. Soon Thorin said, “Mr. Baggins! Here is the first payment of your reward! Take off your old coat and put on this!”
Thorin placed on Bilbo a small coat of mail - a shirt made of thousands of small rings linked together. It had been made by the Dwarves many ages ago for some young Elf-prince. It was a shirt of Mithril, a material stronger than steel, the color of bright silver. The Mithril coat also came with a belt of pearls and crystals, and a light helmet decorated with white gems. “I feel magnificent,” he thought. “But I imagine I look quite silly. If the Hobbits back home saw me like this, they would all laugh at me! But I wish I could see myself in a mirror.”
But Bilbo kept his head clear of the enchantment of the gold, more than the Dwarves did. “Thorin!” shouted Bilbo. “What do we do now? We have weapons and armor, but what can they do against Smaug the Horrible? This treasure is not yours yet. We must look for a way to escape this mountain, before our luck leaves us!”
With that, the Dwarves spoke together to decide what to do next. Remember, they were so occupied with the gold and treasure that they had not even thought about this obvious question. After some time, they decided to leave the mountain through the front gates, and walk down to an old defensive tower to the south. There they could see anyone, or anything, that was coming towards the Mountain.
They passed out of the Mountain through the front gates. There, in the valley below, was the ancient town of Dale, now destroyed by Smaug and in ruins. They passed by the town with sadness, and walked for many hours. The night was very dark when they finally reached the defensive tower. There they rested and prepared for what was to come. There was still no sign of Smaug.
And what about Smaug? Well, if you would like to hear news about Smaug, we must go back two days into the past, when he destroyed the secret door and flew away in anger towards Laketown. Most of the people of Laketown were in their homes that night, or walking along the piers and looking at the stars in the clear sky.
Lonely Mountain was far to the north, and only the very top of the mountain was visible from Laketown. But the people rarely looked to the north. It was a dark and scary mountain, even in the bright sunshine. And on this dark night, it was invisible in the black sky. Suddenly, the mountain flashed in a bright red glow that appeared and disappeared quickly.
“Look!” said a man. “The lights again! Last night the watchmen saw them flash from midnight until dawn. Something is happening up there.” “Perhaps the King Under the Mountain is forging gold again,” said another man. “The Dwarves went north a long time ago. Maybe the songs are true and they have taken the Mountain back.” “Which king?” said another man, with a serious voice. “It is more probable that it is the fire from the Dragon, the only King Under the Mountain we have ever known.”
“You are always so pessimistic, Bard!” said the others. “You only talk of tragedies, from floods to poisoned fish. Why don’t you talk about something happy for a change?” Then suddenly there was a bright flash of red light! It was in the hills very close to Laketown. The glow turned the surface of the lake golden in the night. “The King Under the Mountain!” they shouted. “He has returned! He is turning the lake into gold!” People began to come from their houses to see what was happening.
The town was full of excitement and enthusiasm. But the man with the serious voice, Bard was his name, ran to the house of the Master of Laketown. “The dragon is coming, or I am a fool!” he cried. “Cut the bridges! To arms! To arms!” Then there were warning trumpets in the night. The cheering from the townspeople stopped and their happiness turned to terror. Because of Bard’s quick actions, the town was not completely unprepared for the attack.
They could see the dragon approaching from the north, getting bigger and more massive as he came. The fire he shot as he flew towards Laketown illuminated him like the sun. Every bucket in the town was filled with water to extinguish the fires, every warrior was armed, every archer had their bows and arrows ready to shoot, and the bridge connecting the town to the land was taken down and destroyed. They could hear the dragon as he came closer and closer - the sound of his wings and the roar of his fire was terrible.
The townspeople screamed in fear as the dragon flew over them towards the bridge - but the bridge was not there! Smaug could not easily reach the town. The water of the lake was too deep and too dark, even for the dragon! He knew that if he fell into the cold water, it would extinguish him forever. In frustration, he flew back over the town. Arrows from the archers flew up and snapped and rattled against his scales, and then fell burning into the lake.
The dragon was furious! He was blind and mad with anger! No one had tried to fight him for ages and ages. And the people of Laketown would not have tried, if Bard had not been there to encourage them. He ran back and forth between the groups of archers, cheering them on and persuading the Master to order them to fight until the last arrow.
Smaug circled the town from above. In his anger he breathed fire from his mouth and nose, and turned the trees around the lake the color of blood. Then he came down with great speed, straight through the storm of arrows. He did not care about the danger. He only wanted to turn the town into burning buildings and black ashes.
The houses made of wood began to burn as the fire-dragon passed around the town, over and over again. Hundreds of townspeople threw water when a new fire began to burn. Smaug circled back, and with his powerful tail, he destroyed the Master’s hall. Flames burned in the night from every part of the town. Again Smaug came down from the dark sky, and another house began to burn and fall. There was not a single arrow that hurt the great beast any more than the bite of an irritating fly.
The people were terrified, and many of them began to jump into the lake from every side of the town. Women and children climbed into boats to try to get to safety. Men dropped their weapons. There was terrible sadness now, where only a few days before they sang happy songs about the return of the Dwarves. Now the men hated the Dwarves. The Master of Laketown climbed into his large boat, trying to save himself from the disaster.
The town was almost deserted, and soon it would burn down to the surface of the lake. That was what Smaug wanted. He did not care if they all got into boats. It would be easier to hunt them later. He would let them starve to death if they decided to stay in the water. Soon he would burn all of the land around the lake - all of their fields and pastures. Right now he was enjoying the sport of burning Laketown more than he had enjoyed anything for years and years.
But there was still a company of archers among the burning buildings. Their captain was Bard, the man with the serious voice and serious face. His friends had made fun of him because of his pessimism, but they did not doubt his courage. He was a descendant in a long line from Girion, the Lord of Dale. He belonged to a race of proud, strong men that had died defending the Mountain when Smaug arrived so long ago.
Bard stood in the middle of the burning flames. He was holding a large bow made of strong wood. All his companions were leaving him in terror. But he continued to shoot until he had only one arrow left. He pulled his bow back to his cheek to shoot for the last time. Suddenly, out of the dark, something came fluttering by his shoulder. He was surprised, but it was only an old thrush!
The bird was not afraid! It sat on his shoulder and began to tweet into his ear, telling him of the news he heard from the Mountain. Bard could not believe it! He understood the words the thrush was telling him! He was, after all, a man from the race of Dale. “Wait! Wait!” said the thrush to him. “Wait for the moon to appear. Then look for the hole in his left breast when he flies and turns above you!”
Then Bard pulled his bowstring back to his ear. The dragon was circling back, flying low. As he came closer, the moon appeared over the hills and illuminated the great beast. “Arrow!” said Bard. “Black arrow! You are my last arrow. You have never failed me, and I have always recovered you. My father gave you to me, and his father before him. If you were made by the true King Under the Mountain, go now and speed well!”
The dragon flew down once more, lower than ever. As he turned, his underside glowed white as the moon reflected off the gems and jewels that protected him. But not in one place. There was a hole as big as a dinner plate near his left breast. The bow TWANGED! The black arrow flew fast and straight, directly into the hole where his front leg connected to his chest. It flew so fast that it disappeared, point, shaft and feathers, into the hole in his chest!
Smaug gave a tremendous scream that destroyed men’s ears, knocked down trees and crushed stones! The dragon flew high into the dark sky, spitting fire and smoke. He turned over and crashed down to his death! He fell on the town and destroyed it completely. The lake boiled with his heat. A vast cloud of steam rose into the air, white in the moonlight. There was a terrible noise of water and steam, and then there was silence. And that was the end of Smaug, and of Laketown. But not of Bard.
The people of Laketown cried as they watched their town destroyed. But they were actually very lucky. Only a few were killed by the dragon fire. They had most of their boats, and their fields and pastures were safe. And the dragon was dead. They did not know the significance of that yet. They arrived in groups onto the land, in the cold wind. Their first complaints were against the Master. He was one of the first to run away from the town, while many stayed to protect it.
They were angry with the Master. “He may be a good businessman,” some said, “but he is no good when something serious happens!” And they applauded the courage of Bard and his tremendous shot. “I wish Bard had not died when Smaug crashed onto our town,” they all said. “We would make him a king. Bard the Dragon-killer! But he is dead!”
But from the smoke a tall man approached them. He was soaked with lake water and there was a strong light in his eyes. “Bard is not dead!” he cried. “He jumped into the lake when the dragon fell. I am Bard, from the race of Dale. I killed the dragon!” “King Bard! King Bard!” they all shouted. But the Master was not happy.
“Bard is from the line of the men of Dale, not from Laketown,” said the Master. “Here in Laketown, the people choose a master from the old and wise people of the town. We do not want warriors as our leaders. Let ‘King Bard’ go back to his kingdom - Dale is now free of the dragon because of him. He can return to his home. And anyone who wants to go with him is free to go. The green fields of the lake are much better than the cold stones of the Mountain.”
“We want King Bard!” the people shouted. “We do not want old men and money counters anymore!” “Hurray for King Archer and down with the Money-counter!” The Master had no choice. He was an intelligent man, and decided to wait and see what the future decided for him. But he said this before he sat down again, “Remember who woke the dragon! We would not be in this situation if the Dwarves had not returned to take their gold from Smaug!”
“Be silent!” yelled Bard. “Now is not the time for cruel words. Do you not see? The Dwarves were probably Smaug’s first victims!” But even as he said these words, the power of the Dwarven treasure called to him. Bard knew that with all the gold hidden in the Mountain, they could rebuild Laketown even better than before. But he needed men to help him on his journey.
“Come, people of Laketown!” cried Bard. “We have work to do!” And as Bard began to organize the people in their new camp, he heard them talking about the vast treasure that was waiting in the Mountain, unguarded. But there was much to do, and in the days that followed, many people became sick and died, even though they survived the attack from Smaug.
Bard worked very hard to help the people, but he knew he could not do it alone. So he sent fast messengers into Mirkwood Forest to ask for help from the King of the Elves. But before the messengers reached the King, they found a vast army of Elves coming to Laketown. The Elvenking had received news from other messengers about the death of Smaug.
All the flying creatures in the land, birds and insects, were very excited about the death of the dragon - they were now free to fly without fear! They whistled and tweeted and brought news to all the peoples in the regions around the Desolation of Smaug. “Smaug is dead! Smaug is dead!” they cried! The Elvenking heard it in Mirkwood, and the orcs heard the news in their mountain caverns to the north. Smaug was dead, and the treasure was unguarded.
“Thorin Oakenshield is most likely dead, I fear,” said the Elvenking of Mirkwood. “He should have remained my guest. It is terrible news, though.” But the Elf King had not forgotten the stories about the vast treasures the Dwarves kept in the Mountain. So that is why Bard’s messengers found the Elves already marching to the Mountain, prepared for battle.
But the Elf King was not an evil ruler. He was a good and kind king. So he turned his marching army away from the Mountain and went to the lake to help the homeless Lakemen. They arrived at the new camps next to the lake only five days after the death of Smaug. They were welcomed by the Lakepeople. The Master was not liked, but the people knew he was a good businessman, so he and Bard negotiated with the Elf King for his assistance and soon their plans were ready.
With the help of many skilled Elf carpenters, they began to cut the wood and prepare to rebuild the town, bigger and better than before. But they planned to build it farther to the north, away from the watery grave of Smaug. They were terrified of the place where the dragon fell. His bones remained there for ages after, but no one went into the water to get the gold and diamonds that fell off his decomposing body.
Now, all the warriors of Laketown who were still able, and most of the Elves, prepared to march north to the Mountain. And so eleven days after the death of the dragon and the destruction of the town, the army of Men and Elves entered the region of the desolation of the dragon.
