Treebeard lifted up first one large foot and then the other； and moved them
to the edge of the shelf。 The rootlike toes grasped the rocks。 Then
carefully and solemnly； he stalked down from step to step； and reached the
floor of the Forest。
At once he set off with long deliberate strides through the trees；
deeper and deeper into the wood； never far from the stream； climbing
steadily up towards the slopes of the mountains。 Many of the trees seemed
asleep； or as unaware of him as of any other creature that merely passed by；
but some quivered； and some raised up their branches above his head as he
approached。 All the while； as he walked； he talked to himself in a long
running stream of musical sounds。
The hobbits were silent for some time。 They felt； oddly enough； safe
and fortable； and they had a great deal to think and wonder about。 At
last Pippin ventured to speak again。
'Please； Treebeard；' he said； 'could I ask you something？ Why did
Celeborn warn us against your forest？ He told us not to risk getting
entangled in it。'
'Hmm； did he now？' rumbled Treebeard。 'And I might have said much the
same； if you had been going the other way。 Do not risk getting entangled in
the woods of Laurelindurenan！ That is what the Elves used to call it； but
now they make the name shorter： Lothlurien they call it。 Perhaps they are
right： maybe it is fading； not growing。 Land of the Valley of Singing Gold；
that was it； once upon a time。 Now it is the Dreamflower。 Ah well！ But it is
a queer place； and not for just any one to venture in。 I am surprised that
you ever got out； but much more surprised that you ever got in： that has not
happened to strangers for many a year。 It is a queer land。
'And so is this。 Folk have e to grief here。 Aye； they have； to
grief。 Laurelindurenan lindelorendor malinornjlion ornemalin；' he hummed to
himself。 'They are falling rather behind the world in there； I guess；' he
said 'Neither this country； nor anything else outside the Golden Wood； is
what it was when Celeborn was young。 Still：
Taurelilumla…tumbalemorna Tumbaletaurla Lumlanor；1
that is what they used to say。 Things have changed； but it is still
true in places。'
'What do you mean？' said Pippin。 'What is true？'
'The trees and the Ents；' said Treebeard。 'I do not understand all that
goes on myself； so I cannot explain it to you。 Some of us are still true
Ents； and lively enough in our fashion； but many are growing sleepy； going
tree…ish； as you might say。 Most of the trees are just trees； of course； but
many are half awake。 Some are quite wide awake； and a few are； well； ah；
well getting Entish。 That is going on all the time。
'When that happens to a tree； you find that some have bad hearts。
Nothing to do with their wood： I do not mean that。 Why； I knew some good old
willows down the Entwash； gone long ago； alas！ They were quite hollow；
indeed they were falling all to pieces； but as quiet and sweet…spoken as a
young leaf。 And then there are some trees in the valleys under the
mountains； sound as a bell； and bad right through。 That sort of thing seems
to spread。 There used to be some very dangerous parts in this country。 There
are still some very black patches。'
'Like the Old Forest away to the north； do you mean？' asked Merry。
'Aye； aye。 something like； but much worse。 I do not doubt there is some
shadow of the Great Darkness lying there still away north； and bad memories
are handed down。 But there are hollow dales in this land where the Darkness
has never been lifted； and the trees are older than I am。 Still； we do what
we can。 We keep off strangers and the foolhardy； and we train and we teach；
we walk and we weed。
'We are tree…herds； we old Ents。 Few enough of us are left now。 Sheep
get like shepherd； and shepherds like sheep； it is said； but slowly； and
neither have long in the world。 It is quicker and closer with trees and
Ents； and they walk down the ages together。 For Ents are more like Elves：
less interested in themselves than Men are； and better at getting inside
other things。 And yet again Ents are more like Men； more changeable than
Elves are； and quicker at taking the colour of the outside； you might say。
Or better than both： for they are steadier and keep their minds on things
longer。 'Some of my kin look just like trees now； and need something great
to rouse them； and they speak only in whispers。 But some of my trees are
limb…lithe； and many can talk to me。 Elves began it； of course； waking trees
up and teaching them to speak and learning their tree…talk。 They always
wished to talk to everything； the old Elves did。 But then the Great Darkness
came； and they passed away over the Sea； or fled into far valleys； and hid
themselves； and made songs about days that would never e again。 Never
again。 Aye； aye； there was all one wood once upon a time： from here to the
Mountains of Lune； and this was just the East End。
'Those were the broad days！ Time was when I could walk and sing all day
and hear no more than the echo of my own voice in the hollow hills。 The
woods were like the woods of Lothlurien。 only thicker stronger； younger。 And
the smell of the air！ I used to spend a week just breathing。'
Treebeard fell silent； striding along； and yet making hardly a sound
with his great feet。 Then he began to hum again； and passed into a murmuring
chant。 Gradually the hobbits became aware that he was chanting to them：
In the willow…meads of Tasarinan I walked in the Spring。
Ah！ the sight and the smell of the Spring in Nan…tasarion！
And I said that was good。
I wandered in Summer in the elm…woods of Ossiriand。
Ah！ the light and the music in the Summer by the Seven Rivers of Ossir！
And I thought that was best。
To the beeches of Neldoreth I came in the Autumn。
Ah！ the gold and the red and the sighing of leaves in the Autumn in
Taur…na…neldor！
It was more than my desire。
To the pine…trees upon the highland of Dorthonion I climbed in the
Winter。
Ah！ the wind and the whiteness and the black branches of Winter upon
Orod…na…Thfn！
My voice went up and sang in the sky。
And now all those lands lie under the wave。
And I walk in Ambaruna； in Tauremorna； in Aldaluml。
In my own land； in the country of Fangorn；
Where the roots are long；
And the years lie thicker than the leaves
In Tauremornaluml。
He ended； and strode on silently； and in all the wood； as far as ear
could reach； there was not a sound。
The day waned； and dusk was twined about the boles of the trees。 At
last the hobbits saw； rising dimly before them； a steep dark land： they had
e to the feet of the mountains； and to the green roots of tall Methedras。
Down the hillside the young Entwash； leaping from its springs high above；
ran noisily from step to step