Chapter 4
Strider stalked about their campsite searching for some sign of the Riders. But there was none; they seemed to have fled completely. Since he could find nothing he came back to the camp. Apparently his sudden appearance startled Sam, who crouched over his master with drawn sword.
It heartened Strider to see Sam so faithful to and protective of his master. Frodo will need many faithful companions if he is to survive these days, he thought to himself.
Aloud he said, "It is alright Sam, I am no Black Rider."
Sam was worried about his master, but Strider told him that Gandalf had said Frodo was tougher than they might have guessed. He then turned his attention to the Hobbit.
He looked better, but complained of a chill spreading down his arm. Strider frowned and walked off, returning later with some athelas, which he spread over the wound.
"We cannot stay here." he told the others. "Sooner or later the Riders will come to finish what they started."
"Where will we go?" Sam asked.
"Rivendell," answered Strider. "Frodo will recover more quickly there, and this wound is beyond my skill."
o+o+o+o+o+o+o
They had been walking on the Road for several hours when they heard hoofbeats behind them. Quickly, Strider pulled the Halflings into the brush by the road, up a hill, and waited. Strider bent to the ground and listened.
I know that horse! he thought excitedly. The pattern of the hoofbeats was so familiar. Even the bell's music that had delighted him as a small child.
Just then, horse and rider rounded a bend in the Road and came into view. They had stopped even before Strider dashed down to greet them.
"Ai na vedui Dúnadan! Mae govannen!"