CHAPTER 2

Resuming our journey we found the path continued to climb but not as steeply as before.  Suddenly we stepped out of a deep cutting and rounded an outcrop to find ourselves on a wide, grassy shelf, the steep bare rock of the mountain forming a sheer wall behind us.  I had not realised we had climbed that high and stood, in wonderment at the sight of the whole vale of Imladris laid out before us.  I cannot remember how long we stood there, in awed silence.  To my surprise, it was not Peregrin that broke the spell but Samwise.  "Well.  There's an eye opener, as my Gaffer always says."  Master Frodo sighed, "It certainly is, Sam."  Pippin ran to the edge and Aragorn grabbed his collar as he made to lean over.  "Owww.  I was only going to see how far down it was" he yelled, much aggrieved.  Merriadoc rushed forward and rescued him from Aragorn's grip, yanking him back with an annoyed look.  "Honestly Pip.  Your father will skin me alive if you fall off there."  "Who says I'm going to fall?"  Merriadoc only glared.  I could see Aragorn trying not to laugh and I had to look away myself as Master Brandybuck tugged his cousins' jacket straight and gave him a playful cuff on the ear.  I remembered getting similar cuffs from my older brothers when I was younger and my ears smarted in sympathy.

The sun was warm and the air fresh and scented with orgiliath blossom.  We spread out our cloaks and sat down to enjoy the view and while away the afternoon.  At first, all eyes were drawn to the scene below us.  It was a beautiful sight.  The whole valley was nature, carefully managed, but not controlled.  I could pick out where old and damaged trees had been felled and new ones planted to replace them.  Hidden from view, below us, was Elrond's house; surrounded by its beautiful gardens, but among the trees, all about the valley were smaller houses where others of his household lived.  The buildings were a mixture of stone and wood.  They had no need to build for defence, as the hidden valley was its own defence, so the buildings were delicately carved, with huge open windows and finely tiled roofs.  In Mirkwood we were forced to live in stone buildings, for protection.  Alone, of all the elves of Middle Earth, my family lived within a cave.  It was a finely carved cave, with high bright windows but it was, still, a cave.  Gimli, Son of Gloin, had made much of that the previous afternoon when our paths had crossed in Elrond's garden.  I hoped our relationship would improve by the time we set out with Master Frodo but, at that moment, I was sorely tempted to tie Gimli by his beard, to the topmost branch of the tallest tree I could find.

I was just trying to select the right tree when I felt Pippin flop down beside me.  "What are you looking at?"  I glanced around, hoping that Merriadoc would come and rescue me but I was surprised to find that the other three hobbits were otherwise occupied.  Samwise and Merriadoc were lying on their backs, munching on apples that they had produced from goodness knew where, reading shapes into the clouds, drifting by high above us.  "That one looks like an oliphaunt." 

"Don't be silly, Sam.  You don't even know what an oliphaunt looks like."

"Well, neither do you so how do you know it don't look like one?"  I smiled; unable to fault Samwise's logic and, in front of me, I could see Aragorn's shoulders shaking with stifled mirth.  Frodo lay alone.  His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell slowly.  I guessed he was asleep.  Not a bad thing.  It had been quite a hike up here for someone still recovering from a major illness.  I must confess to having been a little worried at my friend's choice of route but most walks in this steep valley went upwards and I supposed this was no steeper than any other.

I felt a tug at my sleeve.  "I said, what are you looking at?"  I reconciled myself to the talkative hobbits company.  "I was just admiring the trees."  To my surprise, he replied, "They are lovely.  Or rather, they're stately, aren't they?"

"They are, indeed.  Elrond's people tend this valley well.  Can you see, yonder, where an old oak tree has been felled and two young saplings planted in its stead?"  I pointed across the valley.  Peregrin leaned forward and squinted and I suddenly remembered that he did not have the gift of elven sight.  "Where?" he asked.  "I am sorry, Master Peregrin; perhaps it is too far off for mortal eyes.  Over there, just below the water fall."  He turned from me to the waterfall and back again, a look of open amazement on his face.  "You can see that far?"

"Yes."

"Oh, my."  Almost without drawing breath he changed the subject.  "You can call me Pippin, by the way.  People only call me Peregrin when I'm in trouble."

"Then I shall call you Pippin, for you are not in trouble, at the moment."  I looked at him sidelong, to see how he had received my teasing and was rewarded with a cheeky smile.  Although he normally spoke in a voice that carried far, I noticed that he lowered it now, in deference to his sleeping cousin. 

"You come from Mirkwood, don't you?  That's over the mountains behind us isn't it?"  I smiled.  Geography was obviously not his strongest subject.  "Well, it is over the mountains, but it is over those mountains." I pointed to our left, where the valley narrowed to a cleft between two peaks.  "Oh."  There were a few moments of silence as he absorbed that piece of information and I watched Aragorn shift his position so that his seated body provided some shade to Frodo's face.  The fact that Frodo did not blink at the change confirmed that he was, indeed, asleep, although I noticed a small frown smooth as the sun was blocked from his eyes.  Samwise and Merriadoc were still talking softly but the conversation had moved on to the best way to cook a chicken.  Samwise seemed to prefer roasting, whilst Merriadoc was extolling the virtues of his mothers' casseroles.

"Living in a forest, I suppose you know a lot about trees," came Pippins' voice again.  "I suppose I do," I replied, trying to be non-committal until I could establish which way the conversation was heading.   He continued.  "Elves are very good at climbing trees, aren't they?"  I paused a moment while I carefully assessed my answer.  "Some elves are, yes.  Why do you ask?" 

"I watched you jump up into that tree this morning." 

I had done it without thinking.  We had reached a fork in the path and Aragorn had been unsure whether to turn right or left.  He knew that a large oak was the next landmark so I had climbed a nearby ash to see if I could spy it.  Spotting the oaks' large canopy easily, I had shouted to Aragorn to take the turning to the left.  Pippin was standing at the base of the trunk when I came down.  I had got the impression, then, that he wanted to say something but had thought better of it.  "I was raised amongst trees.  To me they are as easy a path as the one we used to get here today." 

Pippin was picking at the grass at the edge of my cloak.  "I've always been frightened of heights.  Would you teach me how to climb a tree?"  He looked up at me shyly.  "If you are frightened of heights, why do you wish to climb?"

"So I won't be frightened any more."  I had not considered that and yet I remembered my father making me learn how to ride at an early age because he had discovered that I was frightened of horses.  I was so comfortable with horses now that I had almost forgotten that early terror.  "Very well, Pippin.  When would you like to learn?"  His eyes lit up.  "How about, now?"  Mortals are so hasty and Pippin seemed more so than most but I had seen enough of broad vistas myself and I missed the cool, dark woods.  "Very well."  I tapped Aragorn on the shoulder.  "Pippin and I are just going back down the path a little way.  We will return within a couple of hours.  Pippin has requested a climbing lesson."  For a moment I thought Aragorn was going to choke with laughter but he managed to control himself.  "I don't think I need to tell you not to get lost, do I?" was all he said.  I gave him what I hoped was one of my most imperious glances and he rewarded me with another bout of coughing.  I hope Peregrin did not notice that I was trying not to laugh, myself, by the time we left.

When he applied himself, Pippin was a very apt pupil. Remembering my first riding lesson I introduced him to the trees slowly.  I started by showing him how to read the bark; which bark would stay put and which would come away beneath his foot and throw him off the branch.  Then I taught him how to read the shape of the tree, finding the pattern in its form, so that he could plan his route.  After that I selected a large, sturdy oak that assured me that it would not allow him to fall, and lead him a little way up.   By the end of half an hour he could climb several feet off the ground, unaided and without breaking out in a panicked sweat.  We sat on a low branch, while he got used to this new perspective on the world.  I pulled out my knife and showed him how to carve a whistle out of a small straight twig that he had found.  I let him finish the last part of it, a little surprised at his deft, quick actions, and he was ecstatic when he blew its first note.  I thought the sound a little flat but it was his first attempt.  I played a short, simple tune on it that my older brothers had taught me when I was a child and he tried very hard to repeat it.  Let me just say that there was room for improvement.  Pippin, on the other hand, was overjoyed with his new found skill.  I felt so happy for him that I made him a present of the little knife my father had given me, all those years ago.  You would think that I had given him the moon and all the stars.  I decided it would be prudent to lead him back down before he got too excited and fell off the branch.  I trusted the tree, but there was only so much help that it could give and I did not wish the young hobbits first climbing lesson to be his last.

If our companions were not already awake they certainly would have been by the time Pippin arrived.  He had insisted on making a discordant noise with the whistle all the way back to our resting place and I was desperately resisting the temptation to clap my hands over my tortured ears.  I began to regret teaching him how to make it.  Fortunately, Samwise and Merriadoc were already busy packing and Frodo was sitting, drinking some sort of tonic that Aragorn had provided.  From the hobbits' grimace I suspected that it tasted unpleasant.  I have long suspected that healers take a perverse delight in making their medicines taste as revolting as possible.  Master Brandybuck must have seen his face too, for as he finished it Merriadoc tossed him a small apple.  Frodo caught it, expertly and quickly took a bite.  Aragorn replaced the small bottle of tonic in Sams' pack (I noticed there was enough left for several more doses and did not envy him) and we all prepared for the return journey.  Aragorn took up his accustomed place at the head of the party and I brought up the rear again, in case anyone got into difficulties.

Pippin kept up a steady stream of noise all the way.  When he wasn't trying to play the whistle, he was showing everyone his new knife or spinning tales of how high he had climbed while they slept.  His tales were wildly exaggerated but I did not bother to correct him.  He was having too much fun. 

As we drew near the house, Frodo hung back until he was walking beside me.  "Thank you."  I was perplexed. 

"What for, Master Baggins?"

"Just plain, Frodo will do.  We're going on a long journey together, you and I.  I think we'd better set off on first name terms."

"Very well, Frodo.  But I am still puzzled.  Why do you thank me?"

"I was so worried about Pippin.  He doesn't show it, but he is upset about my leaving.  I know he wants to go with us but I think he really is too young."  He stopped, increasing the gap between us and the rest of the party.  "The journey to Rivendell was so frightening for him and I was selfish to bring him this far.  I was scared to go alone so I gave in to his pleadings.   This afternoon you have brought back the happy Pippin I knew in the Shire.  Thank you."  He looked almost as if he was going to cry.  "It was my pleasure, Frodo, but I think you under estimate him.  Pippin has a bright spirit that will take a lot of quenching.  In fact, I believe that is true of all of you. I have learned much of hobbits today and I am honoured to be included in your company."  Pippin chose just that moment to pop out of the undergrowth at Frodo's side and let out a shrill blast on the whistle, right in his cousins ear.  This time I did cover my ears.  Three hobbit voices yelled in unison, "Peregrin!" and the little imp ran, squealing, through the gate and into the gardens beyond, chased by three more hobbits threatening death by tickling if they caught him.  Aragorn and I could only laugh.  This was going to be a very interesting journey.

I was going to leave this here but then Aragorn turned round and tapped me on the shoulder.  Look out for a different perspective on the day.