Chapter 10. Idle talk about talk; it helps pass the miles

What a wonder it has been to follow the rivulet to its ending in the Gate-stream! To be able to dip my nose into the shallow but moving and ever-freshened water at any time I wish! Even when I am not at all thirsty!

My companion laughs and pushes at my shoulder. My Rider would say, "Plenty more where that came from!" He told me he learned it from a Hobbit...

I toss my head at that. My Hobbits said that very thing quite often! I say in excitement. Did he then know Hobbits in the time before I met him?

Undoubtedly, the great horse answers. Hobbits sound like they must be quite the cheerful folk. "Plenty more where that came from"!

I glance over at him. He meets my gaze with his near eye; like me, the eye on the other side of his head is most likely scanning our surroundings for potential danger. Horses and ponies must always be on the alert, unless we are safely shut inside a sturdy barn or stables. Outside of such shelter, we find our safety in numbers. Though "two" does not sound like many, it seems to me that we are more than only two, somehow, and that is not even counting the Voices. My new Companion seems equal to a dozen common horses, at the least...!

Tell me, he says now. How do Hobbits talk?

I shake my head in confusion. I don't take your meaning, I must admit.

He says, I have seen them in passing, but none has ever come up to me and talked to me.

When I briefly ponder his words, it makes sense to me that no Hobbit would simply and casually stroll over to my Companion and try to engage with him. Why, Youngest could practically walk underneath the great horse without having to bend much at all!

Their speech is almost the same as the speech of Men that I have heard, I say at last.

Almost the same?

I duck my head for a moment, then raise it again. I am only a pony, I begin.

No "only" about it! my Companion says sharply.

Startled, I jump, expecting a nip to follow after.

But the great horse only snorts softly, and then says, My apologies, little one. You are a pony, and that is the absolute truth, but you have no cause to apologise for that fact. From what I was able to perceive of my Rider's mind when he reached out to me to send me to your side, you have no cause to apologise at all, whether for your small stature or for your very understandable confusion when some topic comes up that is beyond your ken.

Most horses and ponies of my acquaintance could not be described as being long-winded. In contrast, this is rather a long thought to work my way through, but in the end, I nod and say the only thing that comes to mind: Apologies accepted.

It is something I have heard one or another of my Hobbits say at one time or another. Unlike my old misery, my Hobbits are humble and quick to apologise when they perceive that they have been at fault in some matter or other. Not only that, but the wronged Hobbit is quick to forgive, and then there are hugs all around. Sometimes there are even tears, whether tears of laughter if my Hobbits somehow deem the situation as humorous, or the tears spring from some deeper emotion when harm has been done, even all unknowing, and healing is taking place.

My Companion repeats, a little lower, reminding me somehow of Tall Hat in his way of speaking, You are a pony, indeed, but let me not hear you say again that you are only a pony.

I will do my best, I answer.

He nods. As I am quite sure you always do, he says. But what did you mean when you said that Hobbits' speech is "almost the same" as Men? He cocks his near ear in my direction as if to indicate he is listening closely.

Their speech differs in several ways, I answer. My Companion nods as we walk along, as if to say, "Go on." Some of the words they use are different, I go on. Some of that difference may be because my Hobbits come from somewhere other than Bree, for they do use some words that differ from the words I have heard from Bree-Hobbits as well as the Men I have known in the Bree-land.

Ah, he says.

And the two Men I have travelled with recently, their speech was similar to each other's and yet different somehow, I say, thinking about my other Companions. I wonder where they are now, and what is happening to them.

And one of them – the Big Men, I mean – could and did speak like an Elf sometimes, I add. The Master – one of my Hobbits, that is – could speak a few words of Elvish. But Our Big Man (not the one with the shield, but the other, the one who travelled with us from Bree to the Valley) – he could speak like an Elf! A little lower, I add, Perhaps I am putting it badly. I manage not to say "I am only a pony", at least.

The great horse snorts again and tosses his head. Let me put it this way... The Elves have made a study of speaking with other living things, and so they can speak to a horse or pony as well as listen to what we have to say, and understand us. 

I nod. That is what I have experienced in the company of Elves, I say.

He continues, As my forebear Felaróf before me, I am able to understand the speech of Men. I suppose what I am asking is, would I understand the speech of Hobbits as easily?

He waits while I ponder. I am struck by the thought that when we first met, I caught only bits and snatches of meanings from the words my Hobbits spoke to me and around me. But as we travelled together, I seemed to learn more and more. And then in that marvellous Valley, I learned more. I do not know if it was the influence of the Valley itself, or perhaps the Elves, but I understood quite a lot of what my Companions said to me and each other by the time we set out again and left the Valley behind us. I know my Sam noticed the change in me, for I heard him say of me, That animal can nearly talk ... and would talk, if he stayed here much longer!

That sets me to wondering: had I stayed longer in that Valley, would I have learnt to talk? I roll my tongue around my teeth as I consider.

My Companion misunderstands. We will begin to find grass ahead of us soon, he says. Every step brings us closer.

Every step brings us closer sounds very like the Merry-hobbit's encouragement to Youngest when the smallest cousin is tiring at the end of a long march. Foot by foot, Pip, I often hear him say to Youngest. We'll reach our resting place soon. Every step brings us closer.

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Author's note: Sam's quoted words come from 'The Ring Goes South' in The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien.

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