Chapter 9. Bogged Down

'I thought I'd be glad to finally leave the Chetwood behind,' Pippin-lad said, running his sleeve over his forehead to wipe away the drops of sweat that threatened to run into his eyes.

'P'rhaps the marshland will be cooler, with all that water surrounding us,' Robin Bolger said, though I rather doubt it, his thoughts continued, unspoken. He remembered how hot a sultry day could feel on the Buckland side of the Brandywine. Though the Woody End, which he still considered "home", could feel hot and airless on such a day, at least the shade under the trees provided some relief from an angered Sun. 

The land had fallen steadily since they'd turned away from the Road, and though they did not have to worry, as the original Travellers had, about detection by the Enemy's spies in the wide flat expanse of country they were crossing, the adults leading the group were all too aware of the danger posed by the Sun and summer heat. The younger Walkers did not seem to appreciate stopping to fill up the water bottles the party carried when they'd only drunk less than half, even with the frequent water breaks the Ranger decreed. For his part, Ferdi required all the hobbits to wear floppy felt hats, of the kind the hobbits of the Thain's escort wore when travelling in sweltering weather to deliver messages. 

'I'd always wondered how the escort could endure them,' Pippin-lad mused to himself after he'd put on the hat Ferdi provided and walked a mile or two under the Sun. 'How is it that wool can keep one cool as well as warm?' He resolved to ask his dad after they returned home again, for Sam seemed to know everything that was worth knowing, at least in the eyes of his children.

The headgear was hardly "authentic", as Farry grumbled, but then Frodo Baggins had left Hobbiton in late September and had thus welcomed opportunities for warmth rather than guarded against it.

'It's not too late to cut straight South to the Road,' Haldoron said as the ground became damp and boggy places appeared more frequently. 'We will soon be in the marshes, but the Road bends southward and avoids them.'

'It would mean more miles of travel,' Faramir said, 'keeping us baking longer in the Sun's oven, I should think. For the Road itself can grow uncomfortably hot underfoot when the Sun has argued with her husband, the Moon, and is venting her fury upon the Earth.'

'I think my mum is the wiser,' Pippin-lad muttered. 'For when she's argued with my dad, she vents her displeasure in kneading dough or beating cream...'

'Don't make me hungry,' Robin, walking beside him, answered.

The Gamgee lad glanced at him in astonishment. 'How can you be hungry in this heat?' he said. 'Why, I'm a teen, and supposed to be hungry nearly so often as a tween, and yet I feel more queasy than hungered...'

Robin immediately called to the leaders, walking ahead of them. 'Water stop!' he called, and to Pippin-lad, 'Sit yourself down. Here,' he directed, 'on this rock, not in that puddle. Your head is more muddled than you think.'

To Pippin-lad's chagrin, the others gathered around him. 'Everyone drink,' Haldoron ordered. 'Several swallows, at least, unless your stomach is rebelling.' 

'In that case, small sips,' Ferdi added. 'Roll the water in your mouth for a bit before you swallow it.'

'That means you, too, Farry,' Haldoron said. He'd stationed himself as close as possible to Pippin-lad, instructing the teen to lean back against his legs, and he lifted his cloak on his arms over the Gamgee lad's head, an impromptu shelter. 'Or are you, too, feeling sick from the strength of the Sun? Ferdi, can you shade him?'

'I am well,' Farry protested, but Robin insisted on easing him down on a dry spot, and their uncle Ferdibrand moved to provide shade for them both as they rested and sipped.

Once the sun-sick teens seemed to be recovering, Haldoron decreed that they would camp that night where they had stopped. 'We've still plenty of dry ground here to choose from,' he said. 'Even keeping just our feet dry will only grow more difficult as we go on from here...'

'You make the morrow sound so enticing,' Ferdi said. 'I can hardly wait.'

'We'll want clear heads as we go,' the Ranger-guide warned. 'The marshes are both bewildering and treacherous, and their quagmires are ever-shifting.'

'But you know the path through the marshes,' Ferdi said, a question in his voice.

Haldoron chuckled softly, but there was no humour in it. 'Not even Rangers know of a permanent trail through the marshes of Midgewater,' he said.

'Then they must be dangerous indeed,' Ferdi said. 'Would that they were not so "authentic".'

*** 

Next morning, they arose early along with the summer Sun, who kept farmers' hours, as they said in the Shire. Summertime laid extra burdens on farmers, and so the Sun obligingly provided longer hours for their labours, rising early and setting late. The night had been somewhat warm and humid, promising furnace heat when the Sun climbed high in the sky once more.

'We'll make an early start in the cool of the day,' said Haldoron, 'and rest during the hours when the Sun is at her highest.' He looked around the little group. 'Do you each have your staffs?'

The young hobbits brandished the long walking sticks he'd provided them before they'd set out, while Ferdi grinned at him, leaning upon the sturdy, well-worn prop that had served him well for more years than Faramir or Pippin-lad had been in the world.

'Good,' Haldoron said. 'They'll be even more important to you for the next day or two.' He'd already shown them how to make their own shade with a stick and their cloak, but now he instructed them further. 'It will serve you well to test the ground ahead before each step. If the stick sinks in more than an inch or two, don't step there.'

Dry ground grew ever more elusive as they went, replaced by boggy ground and spreading pools of water and ever-wider stretches of rushes and reeds. In addition to the biting, crawling midges that gave the marshes their name, flies began to torment the Walkers.

'Well now I know what my dad was thinking when he asked what the midges live on when they can't get hobbits!' Pippin-lad cried, smashing a handful of midges against his neck with a single slap.

'Eaten alive!' Faramir said. 'That's what my da called it! And he had the right of it!'

'Perhaps authenticity isn't always the best course to follow...' Ferdi said grimly.

'Hah,' Farry said. 'That's the closest I've ever heard you come to "I told you so"!'

'I'll be happy to come closer,' Ferdi retorted. 'I told you so.'

In the middle of that miserable day, Haldoron called a halt when he found a small patch of fairly solid ground. 'Shade!' he ordered, crouching and using his staff like a tent pole to lift his cloak above his head. 

The hobbits followed suit, though Pippin-lad overbalanced and sat down on the boggy ground with a small splash. 'It's wet!' he cried.

'So it is,' the Man said.

The young Gamgee scrambled onto his knees, then regained his feet and crouched, shivering despite the heat of the day since he was now wet to the waist. 'The water's cold!' he said.

'Fancy that,' Ferdi said, exchanging a glance with the Ranger. Both adults seemed to share the same thought... that if the younger hobbits insisted on following this course, then they deserved the consequences. 'Do Men say, "you made your bed..."?' he asked conversationally.

'Indeed they do,' Haldoron replied.

'Common ground,' Ferdi said under his breath.

'Eh?' said the Man.

'That's what Pip wanted me to see,' Ferdi said. 'I think my cousin may have had a point.'

'Only time will tell,' Haldoron said.

'Men say that, too, do they?' Ferdi asked, cocking his head to one side.

'I just did,' the Man answered.

'So you did.'

*** 

When the Sun had slipped down the sky from her nooning, Haldoron announced the end of the rest period. The young hobbits seemed almost glad to stand upright again, stretching muscles cramped from crouching for so long. 'Keep right behind me,' the Ranger reminded the hobbits. Just as they had during the first half of the day, Robin followed Haldoron, Pip-lad followed Robin, Farry came next, and Ferdibrand brought up the rear.

Unfortunately, though the Sun was no longer beating directly down upon their heads, the afternoon heat continued to intensify, made more miserable by the dampness of the air in the wetlands and the merciless onslaughts of biting insects. Though the Walkers were sweating, their perspiration persisted on their skin rather than evaporating and cooling them.

Although Ferdi and Haldoron reminded the younger hobbits at intervals to drink a few swallows from their water bottles, it is quite possible that heat-sickness was once more afflicting Pippin-lad, making him less careful than he would have been otherwise. For instead of following in Robin's footsteps, he'd drifted a little to one side, and after prodding the ground directly in front of him and seeing – or perhaps not seeing – his stick sink several inches into the boggy ground, he stepped forward anyhow.

He threw up his hands with a yell as the quagmire seized him, pulling him down with terrible rapidity that might have proved fatal had Faramir not kept his head and launched himself belly-first upon the surface of the bog, grabbing at Pip-lad's curls as the young Gamgee's head went under.

Haldoron, who had whirled at the yell and splash, shouted, 'Rope!'

'No time!' Ferdi gasped, even as he laid himself down beside Faramir's lower legs and grabbed hold of his nephew's knees. 'Hold, lads!' (Though likely only Farry could hear him, for Pip-lad's head was under the water.) 'Don't move!' And to Robin, he shouted, 'Grab my feet!'

Haldoron quickly understood and grabbed hold of Robin as the Hobbits formed a chain of sorts, with Farry holding tightly to Pip-lad's curls, gasping, 'Don't fight! Stay still!' as the young Gamgee's struggles threatened to pull both of them deeper. He hoped his friend could hear him even as he feared the worst. At least he knew Pip-lad was still alive and fighting – but how long could he last with his head under the water?!

And then as the sucking bog pulled Pippin-lad deeper, and Farry with him, Farry's thought changed to How long can I last with my head underwater?! To his horror, he felt Pip-lad's struggles cease; his friend, though still sinking slowly, was no longer resisting the pull of the quagmire.

Meanwhile, Haldoron was testing the ground on all sides of him with a series of rapid pokes of his staff. Then, 'Heave!' he shouted, and 'Hold fast!' to those on the far end of the chain. He pulled Robin backwards with all his strength, for he was dragging not only Robin but the combined weight of all the Hobbits forming the fragile chain connecting Pip-lad to stable ground.

The Ranger slid one foot back onto the ground he'd tested to gain better leverage. 'Again!' he yelled. 'Pull! Pull back with all you've got!'

Once he could reach Ferdi's ankles, Haldoron dropped his walking stick. He took hold of Ferdi with one hand and guided Robin to a safe piece of ground with his other. Together, he and Robin Bolger hauled Ferdi to safety. Ferdi held grimly to Farry's legs, not noticing himself growing dizzy until Farry's head broke the surface of the water and Ferdi let out the breath he was holding and gasped for air.

'I've got him!' Farry sobbed. 'I've still got him! Pull!'

Somehow, with all of them pulling together, they were able to draw Pippin-lad from the watery embrace of the quaking ground. Haldoron immediately picked up the teen and hung him over his forearm, smacking his back roughly. 'Breathe, lad!' he commanded. 'Breathe!' 

None of them was breathing, it seemed, for there was a general gasp when the Gamgee teen suddenly vomited a small amount of water and then began to cough and choke.

And then everyone was sitting on the boggy ground, limp with relief, unmindful of the water soaking into their clothes.

Pip-lad's walking stick floated to one side, just out of reach. 'No you don't,' Ferdi said, grabbing hold of Robin by the shoulder. 'We're not going through that again!' In the end, he used the Man's walking stick, slightly longer than his own, to retrieve Pip-lad's prop.

After they'd rested and all had got their breath back, Haldoron stood up and removed his pack, which he opened, retrieving a coil of rope. 'I know they had no rope,' he said dryly, 'and so we are throwing authenticity out the window! – but frankly, I don't give a fig at this point.'

Nor do I, for that matter, Ferdi said under his breath. Haldoron gave him a nod.

The Man then tied each of the younger hobbits to the rope in turn and handed the end of the rope to Ferdi with a flourish.

'Don't mind if I do,' Ferdi said, taking the rope's end and tying it to his belt.

At Haldoron's wry expression, he added, 'Don't tell me: Men also use that expression?'

'Very well,' the Ranger-guide replied. 'I won't.'

***  

Author's note: Some turns of phrase were drawn from 'A Knife in the Dark' in The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien. 

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