DISCLAIMER: I'm just playing in the Middle-earth sandbox. If you recognize it from elsewhere, I don't own it.
Mewlips and Gorcrows
The campfire crackled patterns of red and orange onto the faces of the eager Hobbit children. Away in the distance, a lonely dog howled at the full moon hanging overhead. The Brandywine River gurgled around a bend into the marshlands just beyond the small campsite.
Still silent for the moment, they peered into each others' small faces and saw the anticipation in innocent eyes. They wanted to be frightened, as all children did when camping under a full moon. It would be a contest between them tonight, and one which Pippin was sure he would win. He was a Took, and in the Great Smials they told the best stories in The Shire. While sitting on his grandfather's knee, Pippin had learned the trick to a successful ghost story.
"I'll go first," Pippin declared.
The other children shifted excitedly in their places on the cool grass and gave their full attention to him. Pippin saw that some were skeptical. He was the youngest Hobbit here, and no doubt they thought that would make his story the least scary.
Pippin leaned in conspiratorially and lifted a burning branch from the campfire. Holding it expertly, he cast dancing shadows over his face so that youth was twisted into menace. He began in a hissing whisper, drawing the others closer and catching their interest with every word.
"Andwise Bracegirdle was an ordinary Hobbit. He never did anything unnatural or had anything to do with Outsiders until one day Gandalf the Gray gave him an urgent message. Being an honest Hobbit, he travelled as fast as he could across The Shire with the letter, but was never received at Bree."
Pippin paused, his narrowed eyes passing over his audience. They were hooked, because they knew Hobbits called Andwise and Bracegirdle; because they knew Gandalf; and because they knew he sent messages to Bree.
"Some say he vanished into thin air. Others claim he was killed by Dwarves or enchanted by Elves crossing The Shire. But the Tooks know different. We found proof … in the land of Mewlips and Gorcrows!"
There were gasps all around and a shudder passed through the children. Pippin smiled, and in the firelight, an impish grin looked like a malevolent omen. He went on with the story, lowering his voice for even more dramatic effect.
"My great-grandfather was friends with Gandalf and asked for help to discover what had happened to Andy Bracegirdle. The Wizard brought a Tracker—a Ranger from the North—called Longshanks."
A squeak from one of the children brought the story to a halt. Fatty Bolger was staring at Pippin across the fire. "A-a-are you saying this story is … true?"
The Took went still. Then, with one single, grave nod, he confirmed Fatty's suspicion. The other children glanced nervously at each other, and Pippin bowed his head to hide the laughter bubbling up. He went on after composing himself.
"This is the story Gandalf and Longshanks told to my great-grandfather, and I overheard it while listening at the keyhole:
"Andy Bracegirdle was a sensible Hobbit, and he knew that the slowest way to deliver a message was to take a shortcut. He went by the road, and stopped at the Golden Perch for dinner and stayed until after supper. Why Andy didn't stay the night, no one knows …
"He left the Golden Perch as the sun was setting, so he rented a lamp from the owner. With light in one hand and walking stick in the other, Andy went back to the road. And this is where the story grows strange.
"A mile or two out of The Shire, he heard something away in the woods like a ringing bell. Thinking someone might be in trouble and calling for aid, Andy left the path. He went down into the trees, and though the gloom grew denser, he followed the bells. It was hard going with the gray willows in his face and the slime oozing over his feet, but Andy was a good Hobbit and wouldn't quit."
Pippin lifted his eyes to see the effect his story was having on his friends. Fatty and his sister Estella were huddled together under a blanket, as if that might keep the mewlips away. They had clearly understood his references to the old song.
"He had gotten very deep into the woods when suddenly the bells stopped ringing. Andy was all in a panic! What if the traveler had lost all his strength or died? So he started shouting.
'Hello? Hello out there!'
"But it was very dark and treacherous in the woods. He stumbled, and his rented lamp broke. Alone and without light, Andy waited motionlessly for the traveler to call out to him again. But he heard nothing except … croaking.
"Next thing he knew, Andy felt fingers poking him and prodding him! Then hands groping him and pulling at him! And then, the world went black as the mewlips threw him into a sack!"
A tremble passed around the campfire. Pippin, quite pleased with himself, relaxed his voice again into the conspiratorial whisper that had captured their interest at the beginning.
"All Gandalf and Longshanks ever found was the broken lamp and walking stick left in the gray willow woods. They told my great-grandfather that the mewlips still had Andy Bracegirdle's bones."
The children were utterly silent as the story concluded. Pippin slowly lowered the branch back into the fire. Then, from the trees west of the campsite, came a long, low, guttural crrrrrooooaaaaak.
The effect was instantaneous. Seven Hobbit children emitted high-pitched shrieks, and the eighth child, Fatty, screamed "Gorcrows!" so loudly he might have woken all of Buckland. Estella leapt to her feet and darted towards Brandy Hall. As she ran, she upturned the water pitcher onto the fire. The flames died away into sizzling embers, and the children scattered.
All except Pippin, who sat on his log over the dead fire pit, laughing until tears flowed and his side ached with joy. Merry stumbled from the trees, clutching his side and tripping over himself.
"It was … definitely worth … hiding all night … to wait for that … moment," Merry wheezed.
By now, candles and lanterns were flickering to life in the windows of Brandy Hall. Fatty, Estella, and the others had raised the alarm—that mewlips and gorcrows had come over the Mountains of Merlock and the Marsh of Tode to Buckland. This only doubled Merry and Pippin's delight.
They were rolling on the grass, cackling with glee when the fire flared back to life. Both young Hobbits jumped backwards, their laughter dead as the fire pit should have been. Merry lay quite still, his eyes fixed on the fire. Pippin, however, had taken greater fright. Leaping up from his place, as his friends had done just a few moments ago, he took flight towards the safety of Brandy Hall.
He had not crossed half the distance, however, when he collided with a very tall figure garbed in some scratchy covering. Thinking it was the mewlips' sack, Pippin let out a terrified high-pitched shriek and bolted for the front door. But the figure was faster than a Hobbit child, and caught Pippin by the suspenders. Though he thrashed and twisted, the whole time squealing like a stuck pig, the little Hobbit child could not escape.
"Fool of a Took!" a familiar voice boomed. "What were you thinking with that tale? I do not send Hobbits to their deaths, not even blockheaded Bracegirdles!"
It took many minutes for Pippin to calm down, and to believe the figure was Gandalf and not vicious mewlips trying to collect his bones. Even after he had stopped screaming, Gandalf could scarcely get the frightened child to say a word.
"Come with me, Peregrin Took," the Wizard said kindly. "Esmeralda is serving hot chocolate to Estella and Fatty as we speak. There will be a mug for you as well."
"T-Thank y-y-you, G-Gandalf," Pippin stuttered.
"Yes, well, perhaps I ought not to have played such a nasty trick on young Hobbits." He peered meaningfully down at Pippin, but the boy was too frightened to listen. Gandalf sighed lightly. "Ah, Peregrin, I do believe you and Meriadoc will make each of my visits to The Shire more eventful than the last."
"We shall certainly try, Gandalf."
The End
Author's Note: The creatures in this story, mewlips and gorcrows, come from a poem called "The Mewlips" in Tolkien's book The Adventures of Tom Bombadil. As I understand TOS, I cannot print the poem here, but you can find a full-text copy online if you do a search for the poem by its title.