#6 – Scavenger Hunt

Daisy 22, May 19, Sam is nearly 15, and Marigold is 11 (About 14, 12, 9 and 7 in Man years). With a splash of Frodo.

16 Rethe, 1395 SR

The spring thaw would be upon the Shire in a few short days but for the winter-chilled hobbits, the warmer weather and the clearing of the night sky could never come soon enough. Hobbits all over the Shire were growing restless as they waited for the weather to turn and the rivers and ponds to warm. They yearned for green grass and blooming flowers, for fertile and pliant soil to prepare for planting.

Farmers sharpened and oiled their tools for the tilling and sowing to come, post messengers fingered their lighter cloaks and shorter breeches with longing, and parents everywhere tried not to go mad with their children’s constant complaints of boredom. For by this point in the cold weather, the children had grown tired of the rain and the occasional flurry, and were ready for chasing butterflies and feeding calves and were becoming as restless as hobbits with ants down their breeches.

The parents of Bagshot Row and the Hill had found a cure for this common ailment, and on the third Highday of Rethe, just after second breakfast, they gathered their children together on the Party Field. The children came, knowing already the fun to be had and the prize to be earned. Every year at this time, the children partook in a scavenger hunt and whoever was first to bring back all the required items won a day of no chores.

A large tent had been put up in the center of the field and a fire started within, so the parents could have somewhere warm to sit and wait while their children ran about and found their items. The Goodloves, Proudfoots and Gamgees of Bagshot Row were there, and were as the Rumbles, Harfoots, Lightfeathers, and Willomeres from further down the Hill. All together, there were thirty-two children awaiting their instructions, and the chatter as they waited was becoming a roar.

“I just know we’re going to win again,” said the youngest Willomere lass.

“I’ve been keeping me eyes open o’er the last week or so,” said Tory, the Harfoot’s only lad. “I know where to find everything.”

“We don’t even know what we’re looking for yet,” one of Rumble lasses reasoned.

“I’ll still know where to find it,” he replied.

“Look at them, so smug as all that,” May Gamgee said, pointing at the Willomere children. “I know they cheated last year.”

“They did not,” Daisy said with a sigh.

“Our team’s going to be all lads,” said a Lightfeather lad, “and we’re going to beat everyone else.”

“Well our team’s going to be all lasses,” said Holly Goodlove, “and we’re going to win.” Jasmine Twofoot nodded in agreement.

Finally, Odo Goodlove stood up and banged his mug of cider on the table. “Right now, children, listen up,” he said in his loud and booming voice. The din died down immediately. “Split up into teams of four and then we’ll tell you what all you’ll be needing to get.”

Marigold slid her hand into Sam’s and stood close to his side. Daisy and May stayed with their siblings, knowing that every year there were numerous flowers to be picked on the list and that Sam would know where to find them without having to think. Daisy was the best at haggling at the market and May was daring enough to complete the more difficult challenges, if any. Goldie was too young to really do anything, but if there was a tight spot someone needed to squeeze into, she would be perfect for the job. Their best chance of winning was to stick together.

The other children split up to join their friends, with a few other siblings staying together, and within a few short minutes all teams were set and waiting.

“Good job!” Odo said with a nod. “This is what you’ll be getting, so pay attention as I’m only telling you the once. You’re each to get a green rock no bigger than your thumb; five bags of cooking spices from market, two leaves, two ground and one powdered, all of them different; a wee basket full of young berries, two different kinds; dandelion sprouts; a bouquet of late winter flowers that’s to include lungwort, spurge, daphne, camellia, and quince; four hour-long candles from market; a bundle of twigs, twelve sticks of wood total for each child; rope to tie the twigs with from the roper; a dozen marked goose eggs from Woodrow’s flock; and a bit of wood in the shape of a robin. Here’re your bags and things. Come and get them.”

One member of each team went to retrieve their baskets while the others went over the specifics of the list again, memorizing it with little effort. In case any of the children should forget anything, the basket contained the bags for the spices, ribbon for the bouquet and rags to wrap the stems in, a small basket the size of an apple for the berries, a crate for the eggs, a pouch for the dandelion sprouts, and the larger basket itself would be for carrying the wood. All they need to really remember were the rocks, the candles and the robin.

Odo clapped his hands for attention once more so he could give the final instructions before the children went on their way. Thirty-two sets of eager and impatient eyes looked in his direction.

“Now, for the rules. You’re to stay with all your teammates at all times, which means no splitting up. No getting help from anyone other than your teammates. When you get hungry, you’re to come back here for eating, unless you’re up at Woodrow’s, in which case you’re to eat there. And lastly, the first one back here with all the items wins. Let the hunt begin!”

The children cheered and dashed off in all directions, including the Gamgees. Daisy and May took over planning their strategy as Sam and Marigold followed closely.

“Everyone’ll be going to market for the spices, candles and rope first, so we’ll do that later,” Daisy said. “We’ll have to keep our eyes out for those rocks, as those’ll be hardest to find.”

Sam and Goldie nodded, and Goldie immediately started looking for rocks wherever she thought they might be hiding amongst all the mud and slush.

“We can get a bit of wood right off, and I can start whittling that into a robin,” Sam said.

They made their way toward The Water by cutting over the slopes of the Hill rather than down the road with the other children. Soon enough, the lasses were searching under a copse of trees for a bit of wood big enough for their brother to work with while Sam walked along the river’s edge, searching for dandelion sprouts. The pesky weed always showed itself there first.

“Here Sammy,” Goldie piped happily behind him after a while. He turned around to see his little sister struggling with a fat branch with many smaller branches attached to it.

Sam laughed and patted his sister on the head. “Good job, Goldie. You found us some twigs at least. We’ll strip these off and count them out, though we won’t have aught to bind them with ‘til we get to market.”

“What about the birdie?” Goldie asked.

“‘Tisn’t thick enough for whittling, less I make a very small one.”

“A bairn birdie?” Goldie asked hopefully.

Sam laughed. “Aye, a bairn robin for my bairn sister.”

Goldie crossed her arms and pouted. “I ain’t a bairn, Sammy.”

“So you don’t want the wee robin then?” Sam asked.

“I do.”

“Go fetch our sisters then and tell them we’ve got it,” Sam said as he pulled out a pocketknife.

Goldie dashed off and Sam proceeded to strip the twigs off the branch. His sisters returned, May and Daisy holding several twigs of their own, and they sat down to sort them out, Daisy helping Marigold count as the younger lass tended to forget the proper order of the numbers. When they were done, they had three and-a-half bundles, and May used the ribbon for the bouquet to wind between each bundle until they could acquire some rope. As May rearranged the other items around the wood, Sam sawed off an end of the branch to make a whittling block he could begin to work with.

“Any luck with the sprouts?” Daisy asked as they stood up and brushed the snow from their knees and legs.

Sam shook his head. “We might have better luck closer to market and we can find the rest of your twigs at the next copse.”

May nodded and the siblings walked along The Water toward the Bridge. “We need to be figuring out where we can find what we need. Where would the berries be growing so early and where can we be getting all the flowers for the bouquet? We’re going to be spending enough time looking for these rocks, we don’t need to be wasting any more than we need to be.”

They were silent for a moment as they considered the question. Everyone knew well enough where to find the berries when spring was fully upon them and the bushes were heavy with the sweet fruits, but finding any of them now was near impossible, even for so little a basket as they needed to fill.

“There might be some blueberries beyond town out toward the Tooklands,” Daisy suggested. “Naught as you could eat or make preserves from though. We could use the juices to make a dye and stain that table in the parlor like Gaffer’s been wanting. If we make the berries into a thick tea first, that’ll do the trick neat enough.”

“Very well, that’s one,” May said. “We need two.”

They walked in silence again and didn’t say anything until they reached the next copse of trees. Daisy instructed Goldie to retrieve the last six twigs and the lass did so with only mild hesitation. She counted correctly and was rewarded with hugs and kisses from each sibling. She beamed up at them with joy and hugged her six twigs as they continued along The Water.

“We could get the other berries when we get the crimson and gold – the quince, that is – and use that to make preserves, that is, if the berries are growing yet,” Sam suggested at last. “There’s some along the Road going towards Bywater, on The Water side.”

“And what of the other flowers, Sam?” Daisy asked.

Sam answered immediately, not even looking up from his dual tasks of shaping the wood and digging through the mud with his feet as he continued to search for sprouts. “The lungwort and spurge grows wild on the way to Woodrow’s, camellias we can find almost anywhere, and the daphne grows along the fields around Goodheart’s.”

May hissed inwardly. Goodheart and Woodrow were on opposite ends of Hobbiton, and they were currently standing between them both. “Where else can we find daphne?”

“Other than Flora’s shop?”

“We’re not supposed to buy the flowers, Sam, you know that,” Daisy said.

“There’s some up near Overhill, or going out towards Cartwright’s orchards,” Sam said unhelpfully. Both locations were even further away from Woodrow’s farm than Goodheart’s.

“Goodheart’s it is then,” May decided. They would just have to be quick about it and hope no one else beat them there.

“What about Mr. Baggins?” Goldie asked now. “He has all sorts of flowers.”

“We do have all those things growing there,” Sam confirmed as he shuffled along but Daisy shook her head.

“We’re not allowed to go on gentry land,” she stated. This was true at all times, not just for the hunt. Gentry land was off-limits unless one had a proper purpose for being there.

“We can ask Mr. Bilbo. I’m sure he’d not mind none,” Sam said.

“Then that’d be asking for help,” May said. “No, we’ll go to Goodheart’s. We’ll have to be going out that way for the quince anyway. Now, any ideas at all of the rocks?”

Everyone shook their heads but Sam, who suddenly stopped and stooped over. He dug into the earth that his feet had just exposed and fisted his hand around the cold, hard dirt. When he stood up, he opened his fist and began plucking out small, green sprouts. Daisy handed him the pouch for the weeds and Sam placed them inside, rechecked the dirt for any stragglers, then stooped down again.

“What’re you doing Sammy?” Goldie asked and crouched down to watch her brother.

“There’s a lot more,” he said and started rooting around for the other sprouts.

May sighed and reached down to pull up her siblings. “We’re not here to weed, Sam. Now, we know just about where to be finding everything but the rocks, so here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go to Woodrow’s first, getting the lungwort and spurge on the way, and hopefully get to his farm before any of the others can get there and rile up the geese. That’ll make it easier to get the eggs. We’ll get elevenses there, then come back into town the back way so as we can detour towards Tookland for the blueberries. We’ll get the rope first when we get into town as the roper’s at the edge of the market, then get the candles and the spices. By then, the other children should be cleared out as well as most of the morning shoppers and we’ll have less time to be waiting to buy our purchases. We’ll come back up the Hill to drop off our things as we’ve got so far and get some luncheon. Then we’ll cut down over the Hill to The Water to get the quince and back across the Road to Goodheart’s for the daphne. We won’t have to worry about the camellias as we’ll come across those eventually. Hopefully, we’ll have the rocks by then also. If not…” May trailed off and shrugged.

Daisy and Sam nodded, approving the plan, and Goldie skipped ahead to the Bridge. They bypassed town center and headed east down the Road towards Woodrow’s lands. They walked briskly at first to keep warm and paused occasionally to search for the rocks or toss wet slush-balls at each other.

A hundred yards or so from the farm, they spotted the flowers that Sam had promised. The lungwort had spear-like dark green leaves, spotted with white, and hugged the ground near the shade of some trees. Its flowers were a soft blue-purple and were funnel-shaped, and many blooms grew densely on a single stem. The spurge grew closer to the road, its green leaves tinged with purple and its blooms were a bright and vibrant yellow that would put a canary to shame.

They plucked six stems of each flower, packing them in mud to keep them from wilting, covering the roots with the rags. Sam tied the rags around the stems expertly, then Goldie reached down and tossed a fat, cold slush-ball directly at Sam’s face. The slush-ball fight resumed, and by the time they reached Woodrow’s farm, their hair and clothes were drenched and their faces were flushed red with the exertion.

They quieted when they reached the farm and looked around, perking their ears as they approached the coop. They were pleased that no other children could be heard. They were the first to arrive as they had hoped, and when they rounded the barn to the coop, they found the geese happily lazing about or eating at their troughs. Their nests were at the very back of the coop along the barn wall and several of the eggs had been marked with circles in anticipation of the hunting children.

“Who’s going in?” Sam asked.

“I’ll go!” Goldie offered as she stared at the geese with wide and fascinated eyes.

“No Goldie, geese can be nasty things,” Daisy said. “May and I will go in. You two stay here.”

The older lasses took the crate from the basket and entered the coop through the gate. They were not afraid of the geese but moved slowly and cautiously so as not to startle the large and domineering fowl. Sam and Goldie sat down a safe distance from the fence to watch, and Sam resumed his whittling of the robin.

The egg gathering went smoother than expected, with the lasses only being chased as they were on their way out of the coop. They made it through the gate untouched and carefully packed the crate of eggs with hay placed near the fence for this purpose. Once the eggs were secure, the children made their way to the house and knocked upon the back door.

Missus Woodrow opened the door a moment later and smiled at them. “Hullo, Missus Woodrow,” the Gamgees greeted.

“My first customers and just in time for elevenses,” she laughed and stood aside to let them in. “Lay your things down here and I’ll get you all big, steaming bowls of sausage and porridge. There’s muffins as well and some hot cocoa or apple cider as you please.”

The Gamgees sat and allowed themselves to be served. Missus Woodrow’s cooking was some of the best in Hobbiton and the hobbitess shuffled about the kitchen and fussed after them as they ate, giving them seconds and thirds before they had to ask for it. They ate slower than they normally would have and stayed longer than was wise just for the enjoyment of being mothered over, but at last, they had to go. Daisy stood first and her siblings followed suit. They thanked the old gammer with hugs and kisses, then picked up their baskets and were on their way again. Missus Woodrow stood at the door and waved them off.

Sam finished whittling the robin on their way to the outskirts of Hobbiton and handed the bird down to Goldie for safekeeping. She had long ago given up her hold of the twigs she had counted and she now took the robin and clasped it tightly in her tiny hands. Sam would occasionally make such things for her if she hinted enough, and she already had a minnow, a lark and a sparrow. She wondered how long it would take to get a goose from him.

They reached the fields just north of the East Road and Daisy pointed to the bushes that usually had the early blueberries. They approached it at a quick pace and were dismayed to see they were not the first ones there. Many sets of tiny hobbit footprints were in the snow all about the shrubs, but the bushes had not been plucked dry. They looked for the biggest berries they could find, so as they wouldn’t need as many to fill half of the small basket. By the time they were finished, there was a nary a berry left on the bushes.

“I hope no one else tries to come here,” May said.

“They’ll have to go elsewhere if they do,” Daisy said, “but if we see anyone else, we’ll warn them off this way.”

“Now for the rope,” Sam said and led the way to the roper’s yard.

He stopped almost as soon as he started though when they passed a nearby flowering shrub. “Camellia,” he said and bent over the evergreen bush to smell the white blooms, colored pale-yellow at their centers. Sam wasn’t surprised to see that none of the flowers had been plucked yet, as the blooms were often confused for peonies by those who didn’t know what to look for.

He instructed Goldie on how to cut the blooms from the shrubs, cutting the stems close to the parent branch so as not to impede or disfigure the growth of the shrub. Then they packed those with dirt for safekeeping and continued toward the roper’s at the edge of town.

“Hullo, Sam and Misses!” Reed greeted them as they entered the yard. He gave them a bashful nod, though there was no need for it. “What’re you needing? Bits of rope like the others?”

“Aye, just four,” Sam said and Reed reached behind him for a set of rope already held aside for more searchers.

“You’re the last ones to be fetching rope,” Reed told him.

“We figured as we would be,” Sam said. “How much?”

Reed waved his hand. “Take it. Your cousin Hal twined that hisself anyhow. Wouldn’t make no sense to be a charging you.”

“But we have to pay you something. It’s a hunt,” Sam explained.

“How about a farthing then?”

Sam was about to protest further, but Daisy came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sounds fair enough to me,” she said and laid a farthing upon the counter. “Thank you kindly, Reed.”

Reed smiled shyly, turning crimson, and shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, ‘tis naught, Daisy. Anything for you… and your siblings,” he said. “Here, how about I throw in a bit of straw yarn for the wee robin there. It’d make a nice bow.”

“Thank you Reed,” Daisy said and Goldie handed over the robin for Reed to tie the yarn around its neck. Goldie took the robin back and hopped out of the small yard, the others following.

“I think he’s sweet on you, Daisy,” May said once they were making their way through the various market stalls and booths.

Daisy looked at May with a bewildered look and laughed. “Reed Garland? He’s twice my age!”

“He did give us the rope for next to naught,” Sam stated. “He’s never done that afore, and Hal makes a lot of his rope.”

“What does it mean by he’s sweet on Daisy?” Goldie asked.

“It means he likes her,” Sam said.

“Why wouldn’t he like her?” Goldie asked.

“It means he likes her as something other than a friend,” Sam continued, confusing Goldie even more. “Like, he wouldn’t be opposed to marrying her at some point in the future.”

“Oh,” Goldie said. Then her eyes widened and she exclaimed, “OH!” Then she started to sing:

Daisy and Reed are ‘neath the Kissing Tree

“Thank you for that, Sam,” Daisy said sarcastically. “Now I’ll get to listen to this all day.”

Waitin’ for Bashful Beryl to say, “Kiss she.”

“You’re welcome,” Sam replied with a smile as May stood back and laughed.

First comes the Promise, then comes the marriage

“Goldie, be quiet!” Daisy hissed as they reached the more populated part of the market. The last thing she needed were rumors about her and Reed being intended, both for her sake and for Reed’s.

They reached the vendors for the candles and spices and Goldie was thankfully too preoccupied with the various items on display to continue with her song. May grabbed the candles as Daisy and Sam selected the spices: cumin and poppy seeds, ground cinnamon and ginger, and leaves of rosemary. These were not so easy to purchase as the rope had been, and May and Daisy had to do much haggling over the price of their orders before both sides were satisfied.

They were on their way out of market and headed towards the Bridge when May poked Sam on the shoulder. “Isn’t that Master Frodo?”

Sam looked to where she was pointing, and sure enough, Frodo Baggins was standing further ahead on the edge of the Road leading out of the market, one foot on the road and one foot off, a package from the postmaster’s in his hands. He was talking with a young lass about Daisy’s age, and he looked very uncomfortable indeed. His shoulders were drawn up nearly to his jaw line and his free hand was fidgeting with the things in his pocket, and all the while he was discreetly looking about as he nodded along with whatever the lass was saying.

Sam figured it best to leave Frodo to his business but couldn’t help throwing up his hand and waving as they walked past. “Hullo Master Frodo!” he called, remembering just in time to address him properly; they were not in the comfortable confines of Bag End after all and he had been lectured enough by his father about being too familiar with his betters even there.

Frodo spun around and stared at Sam with an expression none of the Gamgee children could rightly read, then suddenly Frodo was coming toward them, near to running he was walking so fast. “There you are!” he exclaimed. “I nearly forgot you were to come and fetch me. Has the Gaffer got Bilbo’s ale ready then?”

“What?” Sam asked as Frodo stopped before them.

“Just go along with it, please, I’m begging you,” Frodo whispered, desperation evident. Daisy looked over Frodo’s shoulder and saw the young lass watching them with a bemused and thoroughly put-upon expression on her pretty face.

“Oh, all right then,” Sam said and raised his voice so the lass could hear. “Aye, Master Frodo, the ale’s barreled and corked and ready for rolling up the Hill.”

Frodo turned back to the lass and shrugged helplessly at her. “Duty calls,” he said. “I’ll speak with you again, Myrtle.” Then he waved good-bye and followed the Gamgees over the Bridge and up the Hill.

“What was that about, Master Frodo?” Sam asked and was rewarded by a flick on his ear from behind him.

“‘Tis none of your business, Samwise,” Daisy chided.

But Frodo didn’t seem to mind Sam’s curiosity or consider it rude. He just laughed ruefully and said, “That was Myrtle Chubb. She’s taken a liking to me of late and corners me whenever she gets the chance. I didn’t think I’d ever get away from her this time. I owe you one, Sam.”

Daisy and May did their best not to smile, turning their faces down to the ground when the corners of their mouths crept up anyway. Goldie started humming the Kissing Tree song again, having enough sense at least not to sing it out loud using the names of her betters. Sam cocked his head at Frodo and asked, “Why would you be wanting to get away from her, Master Frodo?”

“She’s a rather aggressive young lass,” Frodo said evasively. “She rather reminds me of someone else I know and would sooner forget if I could.”

“Why’s that?”

“That tale is not suitable for your ears,” was all Frodo would say.*

Sam just nodded though none of it made any sense to him. Still, he promised himself that if he ever saw Myrtle Chubb speaking with Frodo again, he would find a way to interrupt.

They reached the Party Field then and separated. The Gamgees waved goodbye to Frodo as the young master continued up the Hill to Bag End and Sam suddenly had a revelation. He turned to his sisters with a grin on his face and a secret in his eyes.

“What?” they asked.

“I know where we can find the rocks.”

They ate luncheon quickly and ran out of the tent, taking only what they needed to gather the rest of their items. They had been pleased to see that only two other teams had reported back so far and that they had not left nearly as many items as the Gamgees had. Of course, that in no way meant they were in the lead, so they didn’t dawdle when they left the Party Field.

They had four items left to retrieve: the quince and the berries, the daphne and the rocks. Daisy carried the small basket for the berries and Sam carried the larger basket that had been cleared of all other items, now left in the care of their father. The lasses paused halfway down the Hill before turning to their brother and asking, “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Where are these rocks?” May asked.

“Oh, they’re Frodo’s,” Sam answered.

“Sam,” Daisy started, but Sam held up a hand.

“It’s not on his land and there’s no asking for help. He keeps them up near The Water by the Bywater Pool, hidden like, and he told me a long time ago as I could take any as I wanted whenever I wanted,” Sam explained. “I just never have.”

“Why does he have rocks hidden by The Water?” May asked.

Sam shrugged. “Can’t say, but they’re there and no one else will know to look for them. I don’t reckon Master Frodo still goes out there too often, but the last time I had a look-see, it was quite a big collection. He’s bound to have green rocks of some sort.”

“No bigger than our thumbs?” May asked as they continued down the Hill again, over the slope and fields towards The Water. Going by the Road would take far too long, and if they needed to go to Bywater Pool anyway, they might as well take the most direct route possible.

Sam shrugged again. “We’ll see when we see,” he answered. “If not, we might be able to break some of the rocks to smaller sizes.”

They reached The Water as the sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds. The sun warmed them instantly and they removed their coats and lifted their faces to the bright rays. Sam pointed out plants, trees and flowers to Marigold, teaching her how to tell them apart, and May and Daisy followed behind and talked about all the things they would do once spring was upon them.

They were still a half-mile away from the Pool when Sam stopped and headed toward an elm tree. He walked around the tree looking for a root that came out of the tree at a sharp angle, then split into two smaller roots that ran parallel to each other until one stopped and the other bent to the left at a shallow angle. This smaller root was marked with an “F” rune and just beneath it, buried in the dirt, would be the box of rocks.

Sam had his theories about Frodo’s rock collecting days, but he wasn’t about to share them with his sisters. He had learned over the years that it had been a habit that Frodo had picked up while living in Buckland, and Sam suspected that he kept up the habit after moving here so as to have something familiar to do. Once he had settled in a bit and acquired friends of his own, though, he had stopped digging through the dirt for its treasures and now spent his time with his head raised to the sky. Sam could remember many a night sitting on the roof of Bag End, pointing at the stars, though he knew better than to count himself as one of Frodo’s friends.

At last, Sam found the root he was looking for and settled down to dig. The ground was packed hard but Sam was used to that. He simply took his pocket knife back out and used that help him dig, being mindful to keep the sharp edge pointed away from himself and toward the tree. Soon enough, his knife hit tin and within another minute, Sam had the box unearthed. Moving over to sit down on a root, Sam dusted the tin box off and waited until his sisters were anxiously standing over him. Then he opened the lid.

There were far more rocks than even he remembered, all of them of different sizes, shapes, colors and textures. There were small, smooth ones, flat and good for skipping across the Pool, or round and fat ones good for fitting into a sling. There were brittle ones, dark and ash colored that would crumble with enough pressure, and there were porous ones, scattered with holes like a dried up sea sponge, or so Frodo had told him once. Some were clear in color, others were cloudy or mixed with various shades or striped through with vibrant contrasts.

His sisters made soft exclamations over the collection and gasped in shock when Sam turned the box over and dumped out the contents. “What? We’re not going to find aught elsewise,” he reasoned.

His sisters joined him on the ground and started picking through the rocks, placing them back into the box as they went. They found two small emerald green rocks, smooth and round, almost immediately. Sam and Goldie took those for their own. May and Daisy were not so lucky. There was one other green rock, cloudy and of a light shade similar to new grass, but it was twice the size of their thumbs. Sam took it anyway; they could try to hammer it into smaller pieces or find some other way to break it. One other rock looked promising in size, but May insisted it was blue while Sam and Goldie couldn’t make up their minds and finally placed it somewhere near the middle.

“That one is out,” Daisy finally stated. “We’ll just have another dispute with the judges if we take it back.”

“Why can’t we just take two of these rocks and paint them green?” Goldie asked when they reached the last rock in the collection and placed it into the box.

“Because they didn’t say we could do that,” Sam pointed out.

“But they didn’t say we couldn’t,” Goldie countered.

“They didn’t say we could.”

“They didn’t say we couldn’t.”

“Stop it, you two,” May said and stood up. “We’ll have to make do with what we have. We’re wasting time. Bury that up Sam and let’s get to Goodheart’s.”

The sun was hidden behind clouds again by the time they left the elm tree, but the day was still warm and they kept their coats off. They left The Water behind them almost immediately, cutting across the fields south toward the Road. Goodheart’s farm was close-by and Sam knew how to get to the daphne quick enough from here.

They arrived at Goodheart’s from the west side of his land and circled around toward the lane leading to the front of the house. Then they walked down the lane toward the Road, but Sam veered them off again before they could reach it. The vegetable fields ran parallel to the Road and on the very edge of the fields were several tall shrubs of daphne. Sam beamed back at his sisters and quickly plucked the purplish-pink blooms, then just as quickly covered the stems.

With that done, they walked the short distance to the Road and followed it east to the very borders of Hobbiton. There they found the quince as promised. The flowers lived up to their nickname of Crimson and Gold, being dark red on the petals and golden at their centers, but much to their dismay, there were no quince berries to be found. The season was still too young and the fruit had not made an appearance yet. Sam packed the quince stems as his sisters tried to think of a solution.

“There’s early raspberries,” Daisy said, “but those are out all the way towards Overhill. There has to be something around here.”

“What about blackberries?” May asked.

“Those are carted in from Waymeet.”

“What about cranberries?”

“There’s some grown out toward Tookland, about five miles or so, but none around here, not this early.”

“What about boysenberry?”

“Yes! There’s some near to town, off the Road,” Daisy said.

“If it’s near to town, then the other teams may have got it already,” Sam pointed out.

“It’s our best hope. Let’s hurry.”

Daisy lifted up Goldie and the siblings ran as quickly as their feet would carry them. Not more than five minutes later, they were stumbling off the Road a half mile from the eastern edge of town center and down the slope to a small groove. Under the groove grew boysenberry bushes and those too were plucked dry.

“Drat it!” May hissed.

“May!” Daisy exclaimed.

May ignored her sister and stamped her foot in frustration. “Where else? Where else can we look that won’t take us halfway across the Shire?”

“You could go back to Mugwort’s,” Goldie suggested.

Sam nodded. “He sells berries and leaves out those as aren’t sold at market for anyone who wants them. He has that big glass house of his and grows his strawberries early.”

“Of course!” May said. “He’s always got at least a few left over and he’d just be leaving market. We can get there before the others if we hurry.”

So they dashed off again, back to the Road, right through town center, and back towards Woodrow’s. They did not need to go as far as before though. Mugwort’s farm was only two miles outside of town center and they were there in ten minutes. They ran all the way up the lane to the greenhouse and came to a sudden stop at the door, huffing and panting and hoping desperately that the farmer had enough left over for their purposes.

Mugwort appeared from within the glass house just a few short seconds later. “Hullo, young Gamgees,” he exclaimed. “I expect you be waiting for extras.”

They nodded, too winded to say anything in reply. Mugwort laughed and went back inside.

“Please have enough,” May squeezed out as she regained her breath. “Please have enough. Pleasehaveenough pleasehaveenough.”

“Stop asking for help,” Daisy chided.

“I’m not asking, I’m begging. I’m not losing to the Willomere’s again.”

Mugwort came back then, laughing still, and set out a basket full of small but ripe berries. Daisy quickly reached up and took a handful, then a second. There was just enough to fill their basket to the top.

“Might as well go ahead and finish them off,” Mugwort said. “You look as though you need it.”

“Thank you,” the children chimed and May divided the few remaining berries for them each. They waved gratefully to the farmer, who laughed again and went back inside to wait, ready to grab more “after market extras” should any more other desperate children show up at his doorstep.

The Gamgees strolled up the lane back to the Road, happily munching on their strawberries, which were soon gone. They had nearly everything they needed to gather. Now, they just had to break that rock in half.

“Are you sure Master Frodo won’t mind us taking them?” Daisy asked, still a bit uneasy about the source of the rocks.

“Not at all,” Sam said confidently. “Now, look for two rocks, large ones, so as we can place the green one between them and break it that way.”

They found these rocks quickly enough. Sam placed the green rock on the flattest part of one of the boulders, and with May, Daisy and Sam working together, they were able to lift the other boulder over the first. “Stand back, Goldie,” Sam warned and she stood well behind her siblings to wait and watch. On the count of three, they dropped the boulder. It bounced off the first boulder and rolled away a bit, but it did the job they had wanted it to. The green rock was broken and shattered into three pieces, two of which were just small enough to fit the criteria.

The siblings jumped up and down and embraced with joy. They were finished and it wasn’t even time for tea yet. They had to be the first ones done!

They set off again, running for all their worth, Daisy once again holding Goldie. They reached the Hill and tore up the Lane, slowing as the slope gradually grew steeper. By the time they reached the Party Field and the pavilion, they were sweaty and out of breath, but they handed over their items and beamed happily at their father as Hamfast slowly unwrapped the flowers and placed them with the rest in a vase. As he was doing that, Odo came and looked over their things.

“You got everything, including the rocks,” he said in surprise. “How in the world did you find the rocks?”

Hamfast laughed. “I’ve very resourceful children. I told you it wouldn’t stump them for long,” he said proudly, to which his children nodded and then waited for the verdict.

Odo could only nod in agreement. “Aye, that you do, Ham. Well, you’ve won and…” whatever else Odo might have said was cut off as the Gamgee children erupted into cheers and jumped up and down, then commenced to kiss their father and hug the breath out of Odo.

“We won! We won!”

“A day of no work!”

“We can do whatever we want!”

“I want my robin back!”

Hamfast chuckled and handed Goldie her robin, then interjected between his children’s celebrations. “Now, you can’t all be taking the same day off.”

“But Gaffer!”

“It won’t be no fun it we can’t all have the same day off!”

“We’ll work twice as hard the next day, promise!”

“Besides, you’re coming with us,” Daisy put in.

“I am?” Gaffer asked.

“Of course you are. We won, so you won too.”

Then without waiting for a response, his children sat upon the ground and started planning their day off, their plans taking them out of the smial and into the countryside at the first sign of the thaw. Hamfast sat back and listened to his children’s plans, chiming in only when they started to get too fantastical with their ideas, and together they filled up their day from cockcrow to sundown as they waited for the other scavengers to return.
 
 

End of this ficlet. More to come.
 

GF 2/2/06
 
 
 

* - Frodo’s tale might not be suitable for Sam’s delicate ears, but you can find out why Frodo would be shying away from an aggressive young lass by reading “A Night to Forget,” which takes place the spring prior to this fic. :)