Page 206 - The Hobbit

great Eagle of the Misty Mountains; and at length smelling battle from afar they

had come speeding down the gale in the nick of time. They it was who dislodged
the goblins from the mountain-slopes, casting them over precipices, or driving
them down shrieking and bewildered among their foes. It was not long before they

had freed the Lonely Mountain, and elves and men on either side of the valley
could come at last to the help of the battle below.
But even with the Eagles they were still outnumbered.
In that last hour Beorn himself had appeared – no one knew how or from

where. He came alone, and in bear's shape; and he seemed to have grown almost
to giant-size in his wrath. The roar of his voice was like drums and guns; and he
tossed wolves and goblins from his path like straws and feathers. He fell upon

their rear, and broke like a clap of thunder through the ring. The dwarves were
making a stand still about their lords upon a low rounded hill. Then Beorn
stooped and lifted Thorin, who had fallen pierced with spears, and bore him out of
the fray. Swiftly he returned and his wrath was redoubled, so that nothing could

withstand him, and no weapon seemed to bite upon him. He scattered the
bodyguard, and pulled down Bolg himself and crushed him. Then dismay fell on
the Goblins and they fled in all directions. But weariness left their enemies with

the coming of new hope, and they pursued them closely, and prevented most of
them from escaping where they could. They drove many of them into the Running
River, and such as fled south or west they hunted into the marshes about the Forest
River; and there the greater part of the last fugitives perished, while those that

came hardly to the Wood-elves' realm were there slain, or drawn in to die in the
trackless dark of Mirkwood. Songs have said that three parts of the goblin
warriors of the North perished on that day, and the mountains had peace for many
a year.

Victory had been assured before the fall of night, but the pursuit was still on
foot, when Bilbo returned to the camp; and not many were in the valley save the
more grievously wounded.
"Where are the Eagles?" he asked Gandalf that evening, as he lay wrapped in

many warm blankets.
"Some are in the hunt," said the wizard, "but most have gone back to their
eyries. They would not stay here, and departed with the first light of morning.

Dain has crowned their chief with gold, and sworn friendship with them for ever."
"I am sorry. I mean, I should have liked to see them again," said Bilbo
sleepily; "perhaps I shall see them on the way home. I suppose I shall be going
home soon?"