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"Now tell me your tale, and do not hurry!" said Treebeard.
The hobbits began to tell him the story of their adventures ever since they left Hobbiton. They followed no very clear order, for they interrupted one another continually, and Treebeard often stopped the speaker, and went back to some earlier point, or jumped forward asking questions about later events. They said nothing whatever about the Ring, and did not tell him why they set out or where they were going to; and he did not ask for any reasons.
He was immensely interested in everything: in the Black Riders, in Elrond, and Rivendell, in the Old Forest, and Tom Bombadil, in the Mines of Moria, and in Lothlorien and Galadriel. He made them describe the Shire and its country over and over again. He said an odd thing at this point. "You never see any, hm, any Ents round there do you?" he asked. "Well, not Ents,Entwives I should really say."
'Entwives?" said Pippin. "Are they like you at all?"
"Yes, hm, well no: I do not really know now," said Treebeard thoughtfully. "But they would like your country, so I just wondered."
Treebeard was however especially interested in everything that concerned Gandalf; and most interested of all in Saruman's doings. The hobbits regretted very much that they knew so little about them: only a rather vague report by Sam of what Gandalf had told the Council. But they were clear at any rate that Ugluk and his troop came from Isengard, and spoke of Saruman as their master.
"Hm, hoom!" said Treebeard, when at last their story had wound and wandered down to the battle of the Orcs and the Riders of Rohan. "Well, well! That is a bundle of news and no mistake. You have not told me all, no indeed, not by a long way. But I do not doubt that you are doing as Gandalf would wish. There is something very big going on, that I can see, and what it is maybe I shall learn in good time, or in bad time. By root and twig, but it is a strange business: up sprout a little folk that are not in the old lists, and behold the Nine forgotten Riders reappear to hunt them, and Gandalf takes them on a great journey, and Galadriel harbours them in Caras Galadhon, and Orcs pursue them down all the leagues of Wilderland: indeed they seem to be caught up in a great storm. I hope they weather it!"
"And what about yourself?" asked Merry.
"Hoom, hm, I have not troubled about the Great Wars," said Treebeard;"they mostly concern Elves and Men. That is the business of Wizards: Wizards are always troubled about the future. I do not like worrying about the future. I am not altogether on anybody'sside , because nobody is altogether on myside , if you understand me: nobody cares for the woods as I care for them, not even Elves nowadays. Still, I take more kindly to Elves than to others: it was the Elves that cured us of dumbness long ago, and that was a great gift that ca
"I used to be anxious when the shadow lay on Mirkwood, but when it removed to Mordor, I did not trouble for a while: Mordor is a long way away. But it seems that the wind is setting East, and the withering of all woods may be drawing near. There is naught that an old Ent can do to hold back that storm: he must weather it or crack.
"But Saruman now! Saruman is a neighbour: I ca
"Who is Saruman?" asked Pippin. "Do you know anything about his history?" "Saruman is a Wizard," answered Treebeard. "More than that I ca
"I think that I now understand what he is up to. He is plotting to become a Power. He has a mind of metal and wheels; and he does not care for growing things, except as far as they serve him for the moment. And now it is clear that he is a black traitor. He has taken up with foul folk, with the Orcs. Brm, hoom! Worse than that: he has been doing something to them; something dangerous. For these Isengarders are more like wicked Men. It is a mark of evil things that came in the Great Darkness that they ca
Treebeard rumbled for a moment, as if he were pronouncing some deep, subterranean Entish malediction. "Some time ago I began to wonder how Orcs dared to pass through my woods so freely," he went on. "Only lately did I guess that Saruman was to blame, and that long ago he had been spying out all the ways, and discovering my secrets. He and his foul folk are making havoc now. Down on the borders they are felling trees-good trees. Some of the trees they just cut down and leave to rot - orc-mischief that; but most are hewn up and carried off to feed the fires of Orthanc. There is always a smoke rising from Isengard these days.
"Curse him, root and branch! Many of those trees were my friends creatures I had known from nut and acorn; many had voices of their own that are lost for ever now. And there are wastes of stump and bramble where once there were singing groves. I have been idle. I have let things slip. It must stop!"
Treebeard raised himself from his bed with a jerk, stood up, and thumped his hand on the table. The vessels of light trembled and sent up two jets of flame. There was a flicker like green fire in his eyes, and his beard stood out stiff as a great besom.
"I will stop it!" he boomed. "And you shall come with me. You may be able to help me. You will be helping your own friends that way, too; for if Saruman is not checked Rohan and Gondor will have an enemy behind as well as in front. Our roads go together - to Isengard!"
"We will come with you," said Merry. "We will do what we can."
"Yes!" said Pippin. "I should like to see the White Hand overthrown. I should like to be there, even if I could not be of much use: I shall never forget Ugluk and the crossing of Rohan."