Our Hobbit solidly held the two mules. He was not afraid of heights, but the slope at his feet impressed him a bit. His heart was pounding and he felt terribly hot despite the breeze that ruffled his hair. He coyly turned when Bera pretended to undress, then waited while the big bear gathered her forces. Nervous, he made sure that his dagger was within reach of his hand. The mounts flapped increasingly, one of them lost its oilcloth Ingold had folded and added to its load. Gerry picked it up and began to store it securely, having been shown this equipment could save their lives. That was when Ingold's bow vibrated and the howling of the wounded monster sounded.
These mules were good animals, docile and gentle, who loved their masters, and that the Hobbit had often taken care of. But a hungry and angry werewolf was too great a test for their meager courage. Terrorized, the mules scampered at first rumbling, rushing on the narrow path covered with ice. Gerry had not finished fixing the oilcloth. Entangled in leather straps, he fell down and was dragged on the ice by the mounts galloping with uncertain balance. And what was bound to happen, occured: the mules skidded and were precipitated down the slope, along with Gerry.
Tumbling down the slope, he saw raptors turn in the firmament, with the corner of his eye.
-« Scavengers wasted no time! », He told furtively.
But the thought of repugnant beaks, tearing his dead flesh at the foot of the precipice, was revolting. He focused his will and hoped a moment to get out of this mess. He grabbed his knife and cut the leather that bound him to the canvas and the mule. Then, still rolling down the slope, he tried to slow his descent by planting his dagger in the ice. He managed to thrust the weapon into the icy wall, but the quake was so strong that he dropped his weapon. His last hope was approaching at high speed: a snowdrift accumulated in the form of large dune over the precipice, could possibly stop him. With his bleeding hands, he maneuvered to reach it.
The drift was not snow, but sheer ice. A few seconds later, our Hobbit flew in a graceful parabola, propelled through the air like from a springboard, while the mules sank into the abyss.
Gerry closed his eyes and prepared for his last ride. Scenes of his childhood whirled in his mind, quickly chaining vigils, pilferages, banquets and stolen kisses or superimposing striking faces such as Gandalf, his lady, his father the Thain, Arathorn or relatives. Some bitterness dominated his moods when he fainted in shock - no hobit-girl's face had imposed on him. A constellation of lovely and smiling faces had melted into an average Hobbit-girl, bland and without personality.
While Gerry plunged to his death, a huge eagle snatched him with powerful talons. The violent shaking plunged the Hobbit in unconsciousness. The majestic raptor rose in a gust of hissing air and took Gerry up to its aerie.
You must be told that Great Eagles were a powerful and noble race who populated mountainous areas since the beginning of the world. Soaring high in the skies of the North, they embodied freedom in wilderness and the rise of free peoples. In the old days, they sided with Elves to fight the flying dragons, of which they have always been the most deadly opponents. It is said that the King of the Eagles, great Thorondor, could rise in the sky, sweeping view of whole Middle-earth and monitor the most remote land. Thus the Powerful ignored nothing of the suffering of the Free Peoples.
At the time of this story, the elder branch of the Great Eagles resided in the Misty Mountains. The old Gwaïhir1, a descendant of Thorondor, reigned over squadrons who fought a hard strife to evil beings. No single goblin or marauding warg could move on the surface, day or night, if weather was fine. For the eagles' vision, unrivaled, made them relentless hunters. Yet Great Eagles were feared by the inhabitants of the Anduin valleys: Raptors had to live, taking their toll of sheep or goats. Pastors shot their bow when they came too close to their cottages. Independent and proud, Great Eagles repelled by the goblins to the highest peaks and the steepest slopes, showed distant, suspicious and sometimes ruthless, as are all free predators.
It is to say Gerry's fate was quite unenviable. The Eagle who had captured him had first mistaken him for a goat, as he was tumbling with two quadrupeds along the ice wall. The bird had come because he coveted the mules but their shipment made them inaccessible, though it increased their appeal. Flight-hunting - that is to say, without risk - a fleshy median-sized prey was a bargain not to be missed, which would lift the spirits of the Great Eagle.
Yet, when it landed on its aerie, the Eagle realized that its prey, dressed and equipped with an opposable thumb, was certainly not a goat. In all probability, it could only be a small goblin. But the childish and amiable appearance of his face, the quality of his outfit and especially a strange fur on the top of his feet, restrained the Great Eagle to commit the irretrievable. Since in doubt, it carried Gerry to its pantry - an absolutely unreachable aerie, surrounded by cliffs with a giddy drop on the front and a vertical wall on the back, without need of protection of any other kind. Its appetite was disappointed, hence the Great Eagle unceremoniously deposed Gerry and went hunting for its dinner.
X-X-X
When our Hobbit woke up, he blinked for several minutes without realizing where he was. On the one hand the dazzling sun fully occupied half the space around him, on the other hand a rocky wall reflected the sun, almost as brightly. Luckily Gerry did not try to take a few steps. Finally accustomed to the bright light, he realized with horror his uncomfortable position. Amazed by the spectacular view, he long looked the splendid and lofty peaks around and the dark valleys far down. He was speculating how his fall into the void had sent him on this ledge, when he smelled a diffuse fragrance of rotten flesh. Around him laid the reliefs of ancient meals - dead sheep, marmot furs and numerous bones of small animals. Discovering he was the single alive being in the pantry of a predator was probably our Hobbit's most horrible moment in our tale.
Gerry literally asked which sauce he was to be eaten with, when the Eagle came back in a flurry of powerful wing beats. The bird landed, folded his wings and dropped a rabbit on the stained ledge. Gerry, pale and trembling, was huddling against the wall. The Eagle was staring at him with its lidless eye, tilting its head as if pondering how it might prepare the Hobbit, who alternately imagined himself on the spit, gamy, boiled or simply swallowed raw. The medley of Hobbit dishes made him nauseous. When he saw himself roasted with an apple in his mouth, he could not help throwing his meager morning snack. The raptor straightened, positively impressed. But Gerry mistook the feelings that moved his guest. He was about to apologize for the inconvenience and announce piteously he meant to clean - with the vague hope that he would be entrusted with many chores, and who knows, a full-time job avoiding him the pot - but that was something else that came out of his mouth.
-« I am sorry! », He stammered, quite smeared. « Surely I am not very appetizing any more? », He asked, seeking approval.
The Great Eagle, very surprised to hear this little creature speaking intelligibly and politely, and to see it behave with a mother eagle dedication, addressed him in a gravelly, guttural voice:
- « Therefore your people also feeds its youth by regurgitating food? »
What can be more natural than a giant talking bird? After all, Gerry himself had spoken to it... Furthermore, why be surprised that it should speak the common language? Still our Hobbit paid no more attention to this detail, than if Michel Delving's Mayor had re-taken petit fours. Gerry, transfixed for a time by the intimate maternal interest that appeared in the questions of his host, hesitated to lie. Its sharp eyes seemed to pierce Gerry, as an embodiment of his own conscience. But ruining an opportunity of conciliation would obviously be a mistake. He decided, with his instinct and usual flexibility, for an answer that would satisfy both the assumed expectations of the Eagle and the truth, which Gerry thought it would infallibly detect.
- « We call ourselves Hobbits. Our litters are many, and in fact, we spend most of our time gathering food for our children... and for ourselves!
- In what aerie do you keep your eggs?
- My country is called the Shire, and is many walking days afar, to the sunset.
- Does your female keep your eggs? »
Obviously the Great Eagle was a female. This obsession with eggs watching and youth feeding left no doubt about this in the Hobbit's mind. But in this case, he came to a correct conclusion with a fallacious reasoning - Great Eagles shared as a couple the onerous task of hatching their eggs and feeding their single youth. This Eagle was indeed a female, she had lost her mate and was very much worried about the maturation of her egg and the growth of the youth to come. But Gerry knew nothing of all this. As you may know, our Hobbit was not inclined to be drawn on the field of children and marital responsibilities. He attempted a delaying note:
- « We usually hatch only one egg at a time. It is quite enough work. Fortunately, when the youth grows, the elder ones can handle the young. »
This revelation seemed to absorb the Eagle for a while. Apparently the horde behavior of mammals could have advantages. But no one could lose a hawk, even in words. She went on:
- « Do you watch for your egg? Or does your female watch for your egg?
- I do not even have a female. So I did not watch for my own egg.
- Did you watch any eggs for your parents? »
Having ruled out the absurd possibility of a marital research, Gerry well imagined that such an insistence could only mean one thing: the Great Eagle was in urgent need for babysitting. Anxious to strengthen his chances of survival, our Hobbit decided to make an opening, even he had to embellish an unfavourable reality:
- « I have long nurtured my younger siblings and taught them some very useful tricks. My parents found me responsible and mature, hence they sent me to explore the world before building my earie. I left home and I fly with my own wings, so to speak. But I am willing to lend my assistance in watching your egg, if you wish so! »
The principle of a solo flight before building one's own aerie rather pleased the Great Eagle. But Gerry's eagerness seemed somehow hasty if not suspect: a young male, who on one hand spontaneously regurgitated food, but on the other hand, had never raised his own family, may be somehow unreliable. The Eagle decided to test him - without asking his opinion or even warning him, she caught him in her talons and flew into space.
X-X-X
The fainted Hobbit returned to his senses in another aerie, apparently much higher but better sheltered. A rim of irregular stones encircled the ledge, doubled with a solid tangle of branches. A strange mosaic of mosses, birds down and tissue gleaned here and there, carpeted the bottom of the nest, showing some signs of wear and poor maintenance. A good-sized egg, a little quirky, milky white speckled with honey, laid there beside an ornate geometric designs cover, probably pilfered from a shepherd of the high valleys of Anduin.
A trickle of water ran along the wall next to the ledge where the nest was built. Gerry drank, but the metallic taste hardly quenched his thirst. To fool his fear and boredom, he busied himself as best he could. After a long time during which our Hobbit had drawn his treasure, his mind focused on his desire to escape, looked with fascination at the beautiful sun glare on his ring's stones, he found that nothing happened. Neither wings in the back, nor stairs conveniently arisen from the wall, allowed him any hope, Gerry was compelled to admit that his hostess wanted something from him and he had to get to work. For the first time in his short existence, the Thain's son discovered the intimate nature of work - necessary for life, but indeed not sufficent!
Hobbits, even the most indolent, can be tough workers when need or desire push them. Of course survival was at stake, but Gerry especially felt some need to occupy his mind, not to despair of being subtracted from the world he knew, beginning with true land. For this small cornice was not really land, suspended hundreds of feet in height, and exposed to the winds.
Gerry evacuated droppings, strengthened the structure of the nest, mended the maze covering the bottom and arranged the blanket around the egg a very coquettish way. Meanwhile he discovered a variety of miscellaneous items, brought there by the Eagles throughout their wanderings. Their predilection for small shiny objects such as mirrors and metal instruments, was of great benefit to the handy Hobbit. He cleared a rusty blade, probably a goblin dagger - and sharpened it, probably with some hidden defense motives. Gerry also brought some pebbles that suited his sling, which was still wrapped around his waist.
But hunger was beginning to gnaw. The Eagle had brought in this aerie, the rabbit it had hunted earlier. Gerry was reluctant to eat this rabbit raw, but without equipment he could not ignite the twigs he had set aside. Finally resigning himself, he began to open up the rabbit and ingest as he could. As he was about to bite the liver of the animal, the Eagle returned to the nest. The bird perched on the stone ledge and inspected the place at length, looking inquisitively around, omitting no details. Without saying a word, the great eagle took the air, but returned a few moments later, carrying a wooden box it gently placed it in the hands of the Hobbit.
- "Men burn meat. Here is the red flame. A man left it once to the Eagles of the North. "
Gerry, preferring not to know what had happened to that man, opened the small boxwood packet and found a lighter, a flint and tinder. It was quite difficult to decipher the expressions of the Great Eagle, but this gift led to assume that she had appreciated the household zeal of our hero. The Hobbit thanked forcefully with bows and asked if he was allowed to cook his rabbit. The Great Eagle assented and asked in the aftermath, with the tone of a careless gossip who negotiates vegetables in a market:
-« What is a man's life worth of? »
The question got Gerry almost giddy. He had traveled hundreds of miles with wizards and Kings, through incredible dangers, ending far from the world of the living, at the mercy of a cold and calculating predator, who proposed to discourse of existential questions... Expecting the worst, he chose again to bias:
-« In reality I am a Hobbit, a halfling who would like try to persuade you about his extreme good will!
- Life of the Little Folk is worth the life of the Eagle!
- I agree... in principle.
- The Eagle has saved the life of the Hobbit. The Hobbit is to save the life of the egg. »
Gerry did not clearly appreciate why the egg could be in danger. He suggested the only support that seemed helpful and within his range:
-« I shall hatch your egg, if you agree with that? »
Great Eagles are quite terse. A brief oral agreement is sufficient to seal the strongest contract or the most enduring alliance. Gerry's intuition provided him, although he knew nothing for sure at that time, with life, food, lodging and protection of the Great Eagle. Of course, it costed him his freedom. But one cannot have everything.
More monotonous days passed, so similar to each other than our Hobbit lost count of them. Gerry sat on the egg as best he could. Every morning the Eagle brought a small prey, asking for news, and moved again. The nights were terribly cold - shivering Gerry passed them to contemplate the moon rise over the cliff and sink beyond the horizon. So he had crafted an extra blanket with the skins he had kept. He spent his days dreaming of the Shire, his adventure and destiny. Our Hobbit had lost track of time, but indeed he was a prisoner for only two weeks when a terrible storm broke out in late afternoon. Rain and wind lashed the nest and fail to sweep the Hobbit. He had to cling to the egg and stood firm to prevent it to be rolled out of the nest. In the morning, Gerry admitted the obvious: the egg was cold and showed no signs of life. When asked how the egg was doing, he replied that the storm had passed without difficulty.
From that moment he regularly probed the egg, in vain. A few more days passed, punctuated by visits of the Eagle and the repetition of the question. One morning the exhausted Hobbit could stand it no more: with a ruefull air, that was not quite feined, he confessed to the Great Eagle he believed her egg dead. Gerry thought his last hour had come - without a word, the Eagle seized him and took him off.
X-X-X
The fainted Hobbit returned to his senses in a third aerie, spacious and comfortable, equipped with many pillows and blankets. An egg, quite similar to the previous, laid there prominently - but the spots were thinner and darker. In addition the aerie stood next to a grassy and gentle slope, surrounded on all sides by cliff, either up or down. The Great Eagle, bent on the hobbit, seemed to be watching his reactions. Gerry asked, trembling:
-« You're not going to eat me, are you? »
The Great Eagle straightened but her scrutinizing eye remained unruffled when she answered:
-« Eagle kill enemies and preys, but do not feed on talking creatures. »
Gerry had already realized that the deep Eagle's nature excluded lying. Hence he was convinced and a few seconds were enough to regain his composure. The Eagle bowed before him, saying:
-« My name is Celegwelwen2, daughter of Menelwen3.
Gerry imitated as best he could the elastic bow of the bird of prey and replied:
-« My father Fortimbras and my mother Hyssop named me Gerontius when I hatched 4… so to speak! »
The raptor seemed satisfied with Gerry's franchise. The following days, our Hobbit therefore took care of Celegwelwen's real egg, carefuly grooming the aerie and warming the offspring when the Great Eagle was absent. He could stretch his legs on the grassy slope and even wash with a little snow. The Great Eagle captured for him a living sheep, which gave milk for the Hobbit to drink. The poor animal, as long as its captivity lasted, could feed on the short grass of the adjacent slope. Gerry was struggling to have his hostess speak, but the process took time. Yet from one thing to another, he learned a little about the Great Eagles view of the world and asked about the news that seemed important to them. Thus he learned that the fortress of Dol Guldur spread its evil and that the North rustled with the recent news of two terrible dragons being slain. Gerry refrained from commenting on it. He had indeed understood that changing balances was seen by his wise hostess, like unstable and treacherous swirling winds - source of both opportunities and dangers. The Orc tribes formerly subservient to the great worms, attempted to appropriate supremacy, with the cruelty they were known for.
Finally, the Great Eagle told some incidents of the war against the Giants. Gerry had been thrown in open wizard or fairy tale. He had never really paid credence to these fables but his confrontation with the wonderful diversity of Middle Earth had recently opened his eyes. There was no reason to doubt Giants more than Great Eagles! Hence he eagerly questioned Celegwelwen about the episodes of this war. She answered accurately and without emotion, but Gerry felt that this tragedy touched her closely.
Conversations and living together with his hostess had convinced him with the deep maternal instinct and discrete nobility of the predator bird. The days passed, dull and boring, sometimes terrible and frightening when storms of Urui were unleashed. It happened that the Eagle flew away for a whole day, and taking back a shiny object in memory of her victory - she had hunted and killed a marauding orc. Gerry learned that the orcs under the obedience of the Corgalâsh, who held the supremacy, had lost ground in Gundabad and their neighbors surged to seize power. The Great Eagles, led by Gwaihir, intervened to force them to abandon the open terrain.
But soon the Eagle and the Hobbit parted these warlike considerations. One night Gerry jerked awake, dreaming that the ground shook. All around him, the wind rustled and a slight rumble of thunder was heard over the mountain, as a liquid murmur. The egg had moved - the occupant became restless, the outbreak would not be long. Thus the Great Eagle left hunting more often and for shorter times.
The following day, mixed feelings assaulted the Hobbit. The desire of canceling his debt came first, combined with the desire for freedom. His impatience to put an end to this compromising occupation, gradually veered to curiosity, but did not reach the stage of paternal anxiety. Yet one morning, a strange thought crossed his mind - would the little eaglet look like him? Distraught by the ridiculousness of the situation, he drove this idea away, guided by the instincts of a true Hobbit at breakfast time. But as soon as he managed this, he was horrified: deprived of the delicate variety of Hobbit cuisine, he could only think of a big slobbery omelette! He glanced toward the Eagle, who seemed not to notice the disorder of our hero. Certainly the role of father would never suit him...
However, the next day a new and absurd father reflex came and tortured him : how the eaglet would be named? Of course he asked Celegwelwen, who informed him that Eagles change their names throughout their lives. The thoroneg5 receives one as it leaves the egg, and then is given as it grows, names that are more consistent with his character, his aspirations, his habits or his status.
X-X-X
Thus a rainy morning, a ball of fluff beige emerged to daylight, blinking behind its glasses of black feathers. Mother Eagle gushed before the prowess of her chick, getting rid of the shell. Gerry, who did not know the proper forms in use among Eagles, congratulated her warmly and wished long life in Middle Earth for the newcomer. Gerry clarified that it seemed highly desirable that the chick should have his meals directly from the beak of his mother, and not from a stranger to his kin - it seemed crucial for him not to disturb the little orphan. Noting that the Great Eagle did not protest, he also stated that it would be better if the chick would not build too many bonds with him, since he would leave one day... This last assertion causing no retaliation, Gerry affected to treat silence as an assent.
The child was a male, who would match the provisional name of Corongwinig6. He quickly posed as an accomplished and tenacious rascal, biting everything that came within range, ruining blankets and pillows, and never sleeping at the same time as Gerry. Quickly our Hobbit's hat feathers were reduced to shreds. The eaglet supported maternal sermons, Gerry thought neither frequent enough nor sufficiently strong. Yet Mother Eagle raged from time to time, never molesting the chick, who strengthened day by day. It seemed she was understood at the time, if not obeyed in duration. One morning in the absence of his mother, the bird had been particularly irreverent towards the bottom of Gerry's panties, our Hobbit had to crack down and smacked on the beak of the aggressor. Therefore, their relations became sounder. The chick even insistently offered his first pen to the Hobbit. Celegwelwen incidentally informed Gerry that a gift would be appreciated in return. Then our hero remembered the predilection of the Great Eagle for metal and shiny objects. Thus he sacrificed two gold buttons of his beautiful waistcoat and solemnly handed them to the chick. Then he tied his beautiful young eagle feather on his hat.
-« You are now 'Aerie Brothers '! », Said Celegwelwen, leaning toward the Hobbit, who recognized a hint of pride in his hostess's rocky crunching.
-«I feel much honored, he replied. What does this imply?
- Aerie brothers take their first flight together.
- Dear hostess, you certainly did noticed that Hobbits sorely lack wings? »
The Great Eagle nodded in sad silence. The Hobbit was angry at himself and asked:
-« May I not do something else for my aerie brother? Is there nothing you dearly need?
- The eagle needs her eagle consort. But it is too late for Landroval. And about that matter, my eaglet's aerie brother could indeed not assist... »
Gerry insisted on knowing the whole story. It dealt closely with the war against Giants. They were neither completely simple-minded nor plainly mean, but Giants behaved improperly and coarsely. For example, excited by lightning during stormy nights, they were able to throw rocks at the head of each other from one mountain slope to another, for the sake of snorting under the rain in the electrified air! Usually Giants showed distant and independent, causing trouble only when their games got near eagles aeries. Then a skirmish or a sporadic though violent confrontation usually ensued. But such a war had not occurred for ages.
-« So are Giants, vile creatures like trolls or goblins? asked Gerry
- Not really. Giants are sons of the volcano, children of iron and clay, lively and ignorant of their strength. It is vitality and not malice that usually leads them. And yet they are dangerous. »
This war had started when a young Giant had stolen an egg to an Eagle family. He had found this oval rolled by chance and without breaking down to the foot of a bank overgrown with moss. He had taken it before the Eagle parents could intervene. Then the young and inventive Giant had imagined a ball game with his friends. The Giants pursued each other by rolling the egg on a flat ground. They used the flexible end of an uprooted young fir tree, as a stick, to push this improvised puck in front of them on the soft grass. There did not seem to be any other purpose than to appropriate the egg for as long as possible, but this game apparently gave them intense pleasure. In fact, these were the most complicated game rules any Giant ever invented...
Of course Eagles, horrified, had tried to get their egg back, but they only achieved disappointments and failures. Now they maintained a vigilant guard over their small valley, but their attempts to fetch the egg had utterly failed, the Giants interposing or throwing firs when they approached, laughing in their unconsciousness. But worse happened: lord Landroval, Celegwelwen's consort, was captured while trying and never returned to his aerie! Gerry was moved by this sad news.
-« I had not realized the miseries of this war... I understood it as an epic tradition and burlesque tale. I am ashamed of my scantiness... If I could help you... but I do not know Giants, I've never seen. »
Celegwelwen gazed at him long with her harsh still pupils.
- « May Gerontius steal the Eagle's egg from Giants? »
For a Great Eagle, such a request rather flouted the code of honor and the frank mentality of the species. For them, surprise and deception were admitted in war, only if they let to the enemy, even the vilest, some chance to defend itself. But the eaglet egg had not had the opportunity to protect itself... Dùring those long months spent in Gandalf's company, our Hobbit had, much against his will and to his sustainable astonishment, grown feelings of responsibility and compassion. Gerry, a scout knighted by the Dúnedain, could do not less. But interfering in a war between Free People was uncomfortable.
So he gave his assent, indicating he would do his best not to hurt anyone, if he was not to be squashed himself, and that he intended the hostilities be be put to an end as soon as Eagles would recover their egg.
- « Promise me you will pursue no vengeance! », He asked.
The Great Eagle nodded and grabbed the Hobbit, who had no time to prepare for the big leap. Once again, he lost consciousness. Hobbits are not made for great heights, or for extreme speed, obviously.
Celegwelwen flew to the Mount of the Giants. It was an extinct volcano, the lower slopes of which, very hard to reach, protected a low-lying conical top. Hot springs allowed the few families of Giants who lived there, to survive all year. The upper slopes, jagged and covered with fir trees, formed like a ship's hull floating on a lake of clouds. The Great Eagle dropped the Hobbit on a hill, shook him a bit to restore him to his senses, and flew back to the heavens, to observe and intervene, if necessary.
X-X-X
Gerry sneaked to the heathers and stayed there carpeting a long time. Hearing no suspicious noise, he ventured further down towards the center of the old crater. Vegetation, sheltered from the wind, flourished there on a chaotic ground. The day was warm, insects led a rampant sarabande among the flowers, as Gerry flowed among the larches. After a furlong he detected vibrations from the ground. He advanced secretly and found a kind of natural fireplace that emerged from the porous rock. Terrible snoring came from it.
- « Luckily, Giants are sensible people, he thought, they take a nap in the heat of the day. »
Gerry approached more. Domestic aromas of Giants assailed him then - a sweet barn blandness, spiced with a polecat burrow undertone, but softened with a smell Gerry did not recognize immediately. He stumbled away and hid into the bushes. As quiet as a ferret, he sought the entrance to the cave. He found it, a dozen yards further down. Two Giants were sprawled there, visibly bothered by the heat. They casually discussed the occupations of their lazy days:
-« Wanna play ball – fir!
- Play else!
- Why no play ball - fir?
- Much hot. Ball noise. Ppa sleeps on ball. No play ball - fir! Play else! »
Their common speech proved crude but understandable. The similarity of this domestic scene with those the Shire probably experienced right now, might have had the Hobbit laugh to tears, if he had had a less acute sense of danger.
As tall as a grown-up man but two or three times larger and heavier, the first character, lying on ferns, sported a youthful and upset face. Its completely bald and hairless cheeks stained with orange when it warmed, but its natural color was a washed-out gray-pink. It wore a kind of skin loincloth, tied at the waist with a hemp cord. The second character, who seemed bigger and behaved like the elder, wore gray and tow hair which recurred incessantly over its eyes, of the clearest blue. The young Giant sighed, sniffed and spat out of frustration. The other shook with a laughter, the surprised Hobbit found almost human, though rather coarse. Soon they were sitting side by side on a stretch of fir, and competed for the longest spit. Seing them both with a front view, Gerry realized that it was a girl - Morrg - and her sister - Dyya, almost a baby - and their resemblance was striking. Their childish features and the relative size of their head betrayed children-Giants.
- « What can be the stature of their parents? » Wondered the unfortunate Hobbit.
Since the Giant children continued their contest, he had to dodge a particularly large sputum. This sudden avoidance seemed to sound the alarm. The noses, scraped and re-scraped, and thus fully operational, sniffed at once the superheated air. Gerry retreated just in time. He rushed into a hollow tree and ran to the other end. He had just gone out and hidden in the ferns, when the trunk he sheltered in only seconds before, was raised as a straw and inspected from every angle. Gerry did not wait for the end of the review and skillfully evaded towards the slope.
He went to a wide and shallow bowl. The meadow in the middle of the volcanic valley, kept the traces of the Giants' recent activity. Uprooted fir trees hung out near a giant camp fire. The hearth was dug so deep that our Hobbit could not have got out of it. Grasses were lying over wide areas, probably with firs in epic games. A little away stood a high stone table surrounded by rocks stools. Because of its size, the whole seemed like the tomb of a King of the ancient Men. Gerry also spotted two other trails that rose from the bowl to the opposite slopes. He supposed that other families lived there. He immediately went into research, especially around the pines. After an hour of investigation, he was sweating - too shy a breeze failed to refresh him. Suddenly during a break he realized that the object of his research could not be there: the "ball" the Giant children were longing for, was definitely the egg - it had been confiscated by the father to force children to have a nap and let him sleep!
Gerry returned to the cave he had fled, but taking care to approach downwind. He sneaked surreptitiously behind bushes and ferns, under pines shade. The two children had returned to their benches at the entrance of the cave, and discussed the recent attacks on the part of Great Eagles.
- « Why no play else?
- Stay home sleep safe!
- Big bird no nasty!
- Big bird nasty! Mma sore eye!
- But Ppa strong ! Play catch big bird! Play catch?
- No! Stay home sleep safe!
- Big bird good eat? »
The dialogue continued between the two children, forced to stay indoors. Gerry had definitely no chance to enter the cave to retrieve the egg. He hesitated to hide and wait for the giants to get out of the cave. But then the idle children would probably take the egg to play with it... In this case it was better to profit from the nap. So Gerry went up the slope, looking for another opening. Guided by the snoring, he found some, that could lend itself to creeping burglar. But obviously this led right above the sleepers. A little further on, our Hobbit discovered a wide and blackened crack. As he approached, he was sure he had found the exhaust duct of the fireplace. The smell of burns and peat tickled his nostrils. The idea of blindly crawling down in the Giant's kettle did not appeal much, but the smell of cold soot and no fumaroles reassured him.
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After a few seconds of concentration on his beautiful ring, Gerry considered himself ready and put it away. He went down on the sly in the crack, clinging to encumbering roots. Immediately covered with soot, he tied his sling to the strongest root and sank down slowly. Once at the end of the strap, he hesitated to drop, but after a few seconds penduling in the dark, he ackowledged there was nothing else to do, and he fell in the air. Fortunately he was only two feet short and the ash was loose. The cavity was dark compared to the undergrowth, and the Hobbit acclimatized slowly. He was at the end of a rather crude gut, where fire probably burned in winter. It must have been roughly closed by pushing a huge rock at the bottom, because something screened the rest of the duct, allowing only a thin lightray on both sides. The smell in contrast proved much stronger than outside – for the delicate Hobbit nostrils, a squadron of orcs could not cause worse fragrance.
Gerry crouched a few moments, breathing heavily in the cloud of ash his fall had raised. Suddenly he froze - someone breathed just beside him. He stepped instinctively away from the beast. For he had no doubt the Giants certainly had relegated to the closet, some mastiff in proportion to their size. Our Hobbit, petrified with terror and sweating, expected to be consumed by Houn7 any time as an aperitif. Yet seconds passed with no bite, then minutes without even a hint of chewing. The difficult whistling subsided as ash fell in stinking air. His eyes adjusted to darkness and slowly distinguished an elongated shape, which seemed to straighten on the front. Gerry approached the opening that provided with light on the ground, not far from him, between the wall and the rock that was pushed there to close the hearth. He scratched dust and expanded the hole, which increased light.
Before him stood a Great Eagle, in the posture Celegwelwen adopted to sit on her egg. Gerry gathered his courage and whispered:
-« My name is Gerontius, aerie brother of Corongwinig, offspring of Celegwelwen and her consort Landroval...»
Gerry saw the eagle's neck straighten up and his eyes sparkle with surprise and pride. The Hobbit flexed the torso as he had seen in the nest and waited for his deferential salute was accepted as an acknowledgment of vassalage link a young eagle sets toward his elder. The Great Eagle returned his salute, deeply intrigued. He did not question this surprising statement. Eagles, who do not lie, also know how to detect it. He raised his voice in a hoarse whistle:
-« My name is Landroval, son of Gwaïrohir8 and consort of Celegwelwen.
- Great news! Celegwelwen thought you were dead! How happy she will be!
- Giants shot me with a fir. They became ill.
- With due respect, Master Landroval, I think Giants would only defend their children. When you tried to take the Eagles' egg back, they thought you were threatening their youth...
- Giants have become ill. They captured an eaglet and amuse themselves. Now they have taken over, the aerie brother of my chick.
- I was not caught. I came here incognito as a burglar, to take your offspring back. »
The Great Eagle did not answer - modesty prevented him from showing his doubts about the ability of the Hobbit. What can a small creature without wings? Gerry insisted:
- « I know what you think, Master Landroval. There's none so small but you his aid may need.9 To begin with, I may get out of here and warn your brothers that you are alive. I can facilitate your escape.
- My honor is broken. What remains of it forbids me to fly away without my brother's egg.
- Nonsense! Let us start by feeding you a bit, and you will see things more clearly! The only honor that matters is staying alive to wait and take the opportunity to reverse the setback. »
The Hobbit patiently fed the Great Eagle, granting him everything was in his bag - cooked rabbit, clear water and his last cake crumbs and dried fruit. Snoring and smells continued to filter to the heath with regularity through the cracks. Eagle and Hobbit argued long. The Hobbit had a pretty simple plan. But to carry it out, he had to overcome two notorious pitfalls. The first was to convince Landroval that real honor was to support his wife, and not to remain a withering prisoner.
-« A life is worthless but nothing is worth a life! 10 », He said in a tone of cheeky Hobbit.
But what really moved the Great Eagle was the argument of responsibility towards his offspring:
- « How will you make your son a free and happy being, if you do not wish freedom for yourself? Your duty is to fight for him as for the egg of your brothers, it is your only honor! »
So the Hobbit's rustic ethics obtained Landroval's accession. Gerry described his plan to steal the egg, which appeared to the Eagle as crystal clear. But it was necessary for Landroval to participate as a free bird. This is where began the second and real difficulty. Our Hobbit explained this part of the plan - the Great Eagle, as expected, was horrified. Gerry argued at length and stressed the innocence and naivety of the Giants, or at least their children:
-« They have not understood that their ball is a living being. It is just a game for them! So they consider you like heinous aggressors! »
But the Great Eagle could not understand the satisfaction of Giants, big or small, when pushing before them an oval item. Indeed, the sheer concept of game was alien to him. Gerry was forced to explain it:
-« Game is all we do, without being obliged to! 11»
- These Giants do evil without being obliged to... Game is evil! »
Short of arguments, the Hobbit replied:
-« I assure you that the Giant's children are unaware of the harm they do. I beseech you, on behalf of my aerie brother that you have not met yet, do as I please. I am out of here and hold my post. The rest is up to you... »
Gerry moved some rubble, he made a pile with, climbed up and grabbed the end of his sling. After a painful effort and a little push from Landroval, he found himself out of the crack. He unlaced the leather sling and slipped under the low foliage.
Just about time! Snoring had spaced out and had eventually ceased. From the first snippets of adult conversation, the young Giants rushed inside with hope:
-« Ball-Fir! Ball-Fir! Ppa and GrrPpa play ball-Fir! »
The youthful enthusiasm communicated to mature generations. Despite the admonitions of the matriarch, the family reached the central playground and indulged itself with a sort of field hockey, with pretty rough and unstable rules. Gerry, who was lurking on the edge of the woods, watched for two long hours. Another family came to attend the games, lending a hand from time to time to hinder adult players. Finally parents begged for mercy, and all returned to their house.
The family restored with cold dishes, regretting the waste of the family hearth as a prison. Thus, the Great Eagle, who was accused and looked at, began, against his deepest nature, a conversation full of duplicity with his captors:
-« The Eagle I am, has behaved nastily. But the Eagle thinks he has had sufficient punishment.
- What Eagle say?
- Eagle was nasty. But Eagle punished enough!
- Eagle stay there. Always punished.
- Eagle was punished unfairly. Eagle wanted only finding eaglet!
- Giants no eaglet! Eagle wicked! »
Dead end was looming... Landroval swallowed his pride and biased, remembering the approach insistently proposed by the Hobbit:
-« Eagle was nasty. Eagle offers to be punished by playing Giant children! »
On the gray and pink face of the upset Giant, amazement gave way to satisfaction. His opponent conceded defeat and agreed to humble. But a background of mistrust kept him:
-« What game? »
Drawing inspiration from the fine sensations of high flight, Landroval embroidered around the game without really describing it:
-« A slide that takes you up to the firmament, a game that makes you King of the mountains, a breath that fills your lungs with strong hope, a game that rises above all others, a raw stream that will swell your heart... and a game Giants may not indulge alone! -Mountain Ride! »
The Little Giants had not followed the scholarly rhetoric of the Great Eagle, but their instincts were not wrong: this game was to be sensational, although their figurative vocabulary would have rather inclined towards the word "Grrr-wow." A big smile and bright eyes had quickly replaced their haggard look. They clung to their father buff tailcoat and rhythmically chanted:
« Mountain Ride! Mountain Ride! Mountain Ride! …»
Father Giant had already lost the game. Under the mocking gaze of his wife, he may well have pretended not to understand, refuses flatly, postpones, claimed his great fatigue, stirred fear for Eagles, considered dangers, pretended he had something more important to do - he had to surrender. The Eagle was removed unceremoniously from its prison and questioned anew. He said as little as possible, but he hinted that he had to go to the edge of the crater at the top of the outer slope of the volcano, and then the game would begin. Gagged with a cloth of dubious cleanliness, Landroval's legs were shackled with a long rope father Giant clutched.
The heroic line of sportsgiants went to the highest point of the Giants' mount. GrrPpa, Ppa, Morrg and Dyya were present, their leather boots in hand. Friends and cousins, who roosted on the other side of the crater, were not invited for the first performance, because Ppa and GrrPpa, though curious and excited, still wanted to make sure they would master the technique before bragging publicly. The father volunteered and chose himself - for indisputable security reasons - to the dismay of his daughters but to the evident satisfaction of his stepfather GrrPpa, whose experience and long practice of fun bruising had made careful. The Great Eagle perched on his shoulders, and without releasing the rope, Ppa grabbed his talons. Then Landroval spread his wings in the breeze. Immediately the Giant felt somehow floating. The Great Eagle leaned forward and - hop! - The crew jumped into the slope and off they go under the young Giants' ovation. Ppa ran down the slope, clinging to his natural brake. It was not an easy task for Landroval to drive his burden and to communicate a feeling of lightness, while preventing braking on snow and avoiding obstacles, both soft snowdrifts and dangerous rocks. Of course, the adult Giant, with his considerable weigh, could not be uplifted in the air. After a minute of descent, the great eagle appropriately accentuated one of Ppa's mistakes and the crew fell into the snow.
Father Giant, delighted with his achievement, got up beaming. Passed the first scare, this smooth and aerial slide was quite entertaining. The final straw in a shower of snow had been positively delectable. It was not worth a good old rock throwing contest by stormy weather, but this game would occupy the children without risk. Under the cheers of a small but excited and envious crowd, Ppa, the Eagle on his back, went up the hill apace, thereby demonstrating his impeccable physical condition. Back at the top, sweating and hoarse, he had to settle the inevitable disputes and attributed to Morrg the privilege of descending next, at the cost of a crumpled stepfather and a forever grudging baby.
The young Giant's teeth were chattering with emotion - yet Giants are never cold. She threw herself into the slope with determination and some degree of unconsciousness. Landroval had no difficulty to guide and accompany his new burden, flexible and confident, he could have tried to take off. But the behavior of the family had him think they would prove harmless as long as their toys were kept away. In his wisdom, Landroval renounced revenge. Hence he contented, thanks to the ending fall, to get rid of the cloth which hampered his beak. While Morrg was groaning up the slope, Landroval, with a peck, severed the rope, flew away without a fight and went out of sight of the family, outraged by this obvious lack of courtesy and sportsmanship.
Ppa took several minutes to realize he had been fooled. His stepfather heaped sarcasms on him, while small Dyya burst into tears and threw imprecations at her older sister, who was returning sheepishly. Father Giant was forced to give his little daughter a session of compensation. He laid on his back, feet in the slope, and sat his weeping offshoot astride his stomach. Then he slid down the slope as if he had been a hollowed tree trunk - the so-called "Schlitt" among Giants. So, after a descent that refreshed his back, followed by a grueling ascent, his younger daughter on his shoulders, Ppa resolved to return home. Fearing some confrontation, he was surprised to find a happy wife, who congratulated him for freeing their prisoner:
-« War Nasty. War more nasty Eagle! Hearth ready now! »
Ppa was grateful to his wife, because his stepfather had to stop his malicious chatter, and he enjoyed a hot stew for dinner. Raised by these unexpected laurels, father Giant magnanimously offered the children a game of ball-tree. The last discontent vanished when the father took the egg under his arm and dragged them to the central field.
But Gerry was keeping a close watch. From afar, he had witnessed Landroval's escape and had taken position for the second part of his plan. Ambushed in the bushes, he was waiting for the family to pass, since he had no doubt they would need to take comfort after the loss of their new game. The Hobbit did not have long to wait. The Giant, tall as a ten-years fir tree, led Morrg by the right hand and bore Dyya sitting on his left arm. He hummed curious onomatopoeia on a repetitive cadence. He was singing! The grandfather followed grumbling. Gerry let them pass and went after them, up to the edge of the woods near the field. He undertook a thousand tricks to progress without being seen, and managed to hide in a pile of ferns close to the Giants' table.
While the players went rowdy, with a lot of shouting and encouragement, our Hobbit constantly scrutinized the sky. Finally, he saw what he was looking for: Landroval had returned, bearer of the gift of peace. The Great Eagle hovered on the ascending current and waited. Gerry, meanwhile, came out of hiding and crept silently to the Giants' table. He found it hard to climb on the stone bench. Once installed there, he stayed hidden and watched the game. After a few minutes, he got lucky. Players had pushed the egg, to the point diametrically opposite to the table, on open ground. Gerry, his heart pounding, climbed on the table, cleared his throat and shouted like a fair barker:
- « Good morning to you all! By this bright summer sun, welcome to this beautiful clear meadow of our friends the Giants. Come around! I'll tell you the little story of the Giant… Beaupre !12 »
As you may know now, our Hobbit remains usually undaunted. But in this case, it took him a great fortitude and perseverance to draw the public's attention on him and keep it there exclusively. You may not imagine the surprise of the Giants family. Never in GrrPpa's memory, did humans venture here. In so far as this little shouting fellow was human indeed. Ppa could not find the words – that was rather usual – but this time he neither could move. The two children, who had pursued a chimeric pixie the same morning, slowly made some connection. Gerry bravely continued his anecdotes, straight out of his prolific mind:
-«... Since he was a lad, our Giant dreamed of becoming a knight. He learned to ride a horse but he fell awkwardly, and our poor unfortunate was grieved with a weirdly deformed face. Throughout his life, this handicap earned him the antipathy of his neighbors... »
The four Giants, arms dangling, had turned to him and advanced at the slow pace of those who are dreaming awake. Gerry continued his spiel:
- « ... When he grew old enough to be knighted, our hero was stripped of his status as a squire. The poor lad had grown so much that no horse was no longer able to bear such an immense weight. Anyway his long legs were dragging on the ground on either sides of his mount... »
Gerry still hoarsed, gesticulating and sweating as the Giants were approaching, and scanning the sky out of the corner of his eye:
- « ... One day our world's tallest man met the world's biggest man. They fought without mercy, and our tall hero was vanquished. But the strongest man in the world, moved by his kindness and weakness, vowed never to abuse his power against the most humble and swore allegiance to the King... »
At last Gerry spotted Landroval who was dropping down on him from nowhere. He started up again, raising his voice and gesticulating expressively:
-«... In short, he had many misfortunes. He often wrote to his mother, and always ended with 'It will be better tomorrow.' Yet our hero died before reaching the age of majority13... »
The Giants had given up on firs and egg. Landroval landed silently behind them, laying the egg-shaped stone Celegwelwen had entrusted to him, and removing the real egg in a burst. But the Giants, absorbed by the unusual spectacle continuing under their uncredulous eyes, did not notice him. As danger grew, our hero, who may not stop for a moment his flood of words, indulged in an inappropriate ribaldry:
-«... Poor Giant Beaupre was growing constantly. He reportedly intrigued many ladies, who wondered if his whole anatomy grew in proportion... »
The Great Eagle disappeared from the horizon of the Hobbit, who began to doubt the infallibility of his plan, while the group of Giants approached, as if hypnotized by his performance. Yet he continued:
-«... in the time of the Kings, he joined a troupe of acrobats. But in each castle the poor boy had to hide, reclusive, not to deprive his public in the baronial courts, of the surprise of a real giant coming on stage during the performance. Hiding a gigantic body is no easy task and he lived most of his life without light or company. No, really, my dear friends, Giant life was not easy for him... »
Gerry launched his latest ideas. The Giants were no further than twenty yards.
-« ... In conclusion - and Gerry yelled, insisting heavily on the word! - I suggest that his remains should be returned to his family, since they were– that is beau dommage14 ! - kept way too long for exhibition. They say he even continued to grow beyond death... »
At this precise moment, Landroval, who had gained momentum outside the field of view of both Gerry and the Giants, appeared just above the ridge of the crater. Approaching against the sun, long and strongly fingered wings cleft the air eagerly. Gerry saw it with the corner of his eye, he played the all out - suddenly interrupting himself, he pointed to where the eggs had been substituted, behind the Giants, and yelled, mimicking consternation with consummate skill :
-« Beware, an Eagle is stealing your ball! »
Giants are a good and naive public. The family turned in one movement, giving Landroval the second he lacked to snap and take Gerry into the distance. Again, the shock made Gerry unconscious, but he was conveyed safely, with the egg stolen on the field. As for the Giants, the abduction of a pixie by their former prisoner left them stunned and puzzled. Did the soot sprite, once his strange ceremony was over, believed that the world had regained its natural order? Did he disappear and take the aquiline danger with him, and thus put an end to the war?
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Ppa rushed to remove his children's toy from to the supposed greed of the eagle. He was very proud to save it, though he barely saw any Eagle. Later he noticed that the ball was much heavier and less elastic than before. In fact, he often broke the flexible end of the fir tree he used to play with. Hence the Giant was forced to sculpt and strengthen sticks to play this family game.
That is how the noble sport of hockey found its origin among Giants. In any case that is the tale today's men have recalled. Of course, the ball has evolved and adapted to the body size of the players, as well as the sticks. As for Morrg and Dyya's ball, their mother finally guessed the heavy oval stone brought by the eagle was probably a gift of peace, a guarantee of balance in compensation for a lost treasure. There was no more clash between Eagles and Giants.
It seems Gerry was the only one to be moved by the tender reunion of Celegwelwen and Landroval. Apparently the Great Eagles neither get emotive nor embrace, at least in public. The testimonies of affection, if they exist, are strictly confined to the private sphere. If Celegwelwen showed any signs of satisfaction with the delivery of her consort, our Hobbit was not able to recognize them. The presentation of tiny Corongwinig was slow and formal. Landroval let the ball of feathers nibble his beak and then regurgitated some food for his offspring.
Our Hobbit realized then, that the female Celegwelwen was bigger than her consort, although Landroval seemed more vivid and muscular.
Gerry, exhausted physically and morally, nibbled his last reserves of dwarven biscuits and quickly fell asleep. He was finally able to spend a quiet and restful night's sleep, away on the grassy slope. In the morning, Landroval told him that he had returned the stolen egg to his rightful parents. Eagle squadrons exulted with the end of the war with the Giants and the recovery of the egg, but Gwaihir the King of Eagles was worried – the North quivered with alarming rumors. Thus Landroval was summoned to a council the next day. Meanwhile, the Great Eagle expressed his gratitude to Gerry on behalf of the parents of the saved egg, as well as high consideration from Gwaihir himself. He asked Gerry to name what he considered worth of his own eagle blood.
Outside of his female conquests, our Hobbit was a modest boy. The friendship of the almighty Eagles seemed far above his status. So it did not come to his mind, to ask anything for himself.
-« Master Landroval, as a friend of the Dwarves of Dùrin, I would request your high benevolence, for doing what you can to preserve Barum-Nahal, the volcano of the fathers of the Dwarves.
- We shall watch, as we always did, and teach terror to evil creatures that come near by. But we still have to find the balance in our account! Celegwelwen saved a Hobbit life. The Hobbit saved the life of an egg and an Eagle. Eagles remain your debtors...
- Oh, not at all, Master Landroval! To pay my debt to Celegwelwen, I agreed to take care of her chick. That is what I did - although I did not plan it before - helping you to find a way to escape. Now you can fulfill your duties as a father, much better than I ever could! In addition you are responsible for half of the rescue of the egg! So I take it we are even. However, I have one request for the future: if you ever happen to cross a Hobbit, you will recognize it now. Can you help him, in remembrance of Corongwinig's aerie brother?
- We shall certainly help your kin, however difficult it is for us to discern a Hobbit from a rabbit! But you talk about future. Is there nothing your own heart desires now? »
Gerry did not take up the first touch of eagle humor, Landroval had graced him with:
-« My heart wishes to return to the mainland, near the daisy and fox, in the land of the little folk I am.
- Both of your wishes shall come true. »
Thus, one morning at the end of Urui, Celegwelwen carried our Hobbit over the air to the "land of the little person." As usual, the Hobbit could not resist the feeling of falling in dizzying descents and vanished quickly. When he regained his senses, the Great Eagle was watching over him, on top of a grassy hill, at the bottom of a warm and pleasant valley. Fir trees around him were not familiar, but the Hobbit was now at an altitude, suitable for his survival.
-« Are we for good in the Shire?, he asked eagerly.
- Celegwelwen ignores the name of this part of the world. We are pretty familiar with a little person who lives there. Eagles call this place the vanished valley because its people are deeply reckless about the woes of the world around. »
Gerry recognized, in this description which suited the Shire perfectly, the Eagles' acute sense of observation. He was to ask his hostess to bring him nearer the homes, but he remembered what fate was deserved for Eagles who approached the shepherds herds. Furthermore the size of his friend would certainly scare the neighborhood. He resolved to ask nothing and accomplish the rest of the way on foot.
-« Where does live the little person you know? », He asked for guidance.
The Great Eagle pointed to the South, through the groves. Finally they parted and the little Hobbit weeped a while. The majestic Celegwelwen rose swiftly in the firmament.
- "Let a steady breeze blow under your wings above the storms! », She cried, dropping a beautiful white and black feather.
- « Thank you, said Gerry who had learned the appropriate answer, May you find the conducive ascendings to your aerie! »
1 Sindarin : Lord of the winds
2 Swift blow of air, Burst in sindarin
3 Daughter of the air, in sindarin
4 About this matter, please read the testimony of the Old Took in the Annex.
5 Eaglet in sindarin
6 Round Baby, in sindarin, that could be approximated as « ball down »
7 Huan is the name of a noble dog that a hero of the first age took to vanquish the werewolves of the Dark Lord. That was a very popular dog name in the Dunedain kingdoms, and the Hobbits continued this tradition. Hence in the collective imagination of the Shire, a menacing mastiff often bears the name of « Houn », wich is the Kuduk form of the Sindarin Haun. Maybe it is also the origin of the word « Hound »?
8 Gwaïrohir : the wind-rider in sindarin.
9 Jean de La Fontaine.
10 André Malraux
11 Mark Twain
12 Doubtless this name came to the Hobbit's mind because of the wonderful blooming meadow at the center of the Giants crater. Most of the anecdotes Gerry invented are inspired by the life of a Canadian who lived in late nineteenth century, and whose name was Edouard Beaupré.
13 Hobbits reach their majority at thirty-three years old.
14 Hobbit expression for « what a shame!». Giant Beaupré has inspired a song to the Quebec band Beau Dommage on eponymous album published in 1974.