Page 155 - The Hobbit

hall smoked, he shook the mountain-roots. He thrust his head in vain at the little

hole, and then coiling his length together, roaring like thunder underground, he
sped from his deep lair through its great door, out into the huge passages of the
mountain-palace and up towards the Front Gate.

To hunt the whole mountain till he had caught the thief and had torn and
trampled him was his one thought. He issued from the Gate, the waters rose in
fierce whistling steam, and up he soared blazing into the air and settled on the
mountain-top in a spout of green and scarlet flame. The dwarves heard the awful

rumour of his flight, and they crouched against the walls of the grassy terrace
cringing under boulders, hoping somehow to escape the frightful eyes of the
hunting dragon.

There they would have all been killed, if it had not been for Bilbo once again.
"Quick! Quick!" he gasped. "The door! The tunnel! It's no good here."
Roused by these words they were just about to creep inside the tunnel when
Bifur gave a cry: "My cousins! Bombur and Bofur – we have forgotten them, they

are down in the valley!"
"They will be slain, and all our ponies too, and all out stores lost," moaned the
others. "We can do nothing."

"Nonsense!" said Thorin, recovering his dignity. "We cannot leave them. Get
inside Mr. Baggins and Balin, and you two Fili and Kili-the dragon shan't have all
of us. Now you others, where are the ropes? Be quick!"
Those were perhaps the worst moments they had been through yet. The

horrible sounds of Smaug's anger were echoing in the stony hollows far above; at
any moment he might come blazing down or fly whirling round and find them
there, near the perilous cliff's edge hauling madly on the ropes. Up came Bofur,
and still all was safe. Up came Bombur, puffing and blowing while the ropes

creaked, and still all was safe. Up came some tools and bundles of stores, and then
danger was upon them. A whirring noise was heard. A red light touched the points
of standing rocks. The dragon came. They had barely time to fly back to the
tunnel, pulling and dragging in their bundles, when Smaug came hurtling from the

North, licking the mountain-sides with flame, beating his great wings with a noise
like a roaring wind. His hot breath shrivelled the grass before the door, and drove
in through the crack they had left and scorched them as they lay hid. Flickering

fires leaped up and black rock-shadows danced. Then darkness fell as he passed
again.
The ponies screamed with terror, burst their ropes and galloped wildly off. The
dragon swooped and turned to pursue them, and was gone.