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'I was；' said Pippin； 'but they say I have bee a man of Gondor。'
'Oh e！' said the lad。 'Then we are all men here。 But how old are you； and what is your name？
I am ten years already； and shall soon be five feet。 I am taller than you。 But then my father is a
Guard； one of the tallest。 What is your father？'
'Which question shall I answer first？' said Pippin。 'My father farms the lands round Whitwell
near Tuckborough in the Shire。 I am nearly twenty…nine； so I pass you there； though I am but four
feet； and not likely to grow any more； save sideways。'
'Twenty…nine！' said the lad and whistled。 'Why； you are quite old！ As old as my uncle Iorlas。
Still；' he added hopefully； 'I wager I could stand you on your head or lay you on your back。'
'Maybe you could； if I let you；' said Pippin with a laugh。 'And maybe I could do the same to you：
we know some wrestling tricks in my little country。 Where； let me tell you； I am considered
unmonly large and strong； and I have never allowed anyone to stand me on my head。 So if it
came to a trial and nothing else would serve； I might have to kill you。 For when you are older； you
will learn that folk are not always what they seem； and though you may have taken me for a soft
stranger…lad and easy prey； let me warn you： I am not； I am a halfling； hard； bold； and wicked！'
Pippin pulled such a grim face that the boy stepped back a pace； but at once he returned with
clenched fists and the light of battle in his eye。
'No！' Pippin laughed。 'Don't believe what strangers say of themselves either！ I am not a fighter。
But it would be politer in any case for the challenger to say who he is。'
The boy drew himself up proudly。 'I am Bergil son of Beregond of the Guards；' he said。
'So I thought；' said Pippin； 'for you look like your father。 I know him and he sent me to find you。'
'Then why did you not say so at once？' said Bergil； and suddenly a look of dismay came over his
face。 'Do not tell me that he has changed his mind； and will send me away with the maidens！ But no；
the last wains have gone。'
'His message is less bad than that； if not good。' said Pippin。 'He says that if you would prefer it to
standing me on my head； you might show me round the City for a while and cheer my loneliness。 I
can tell you some tales of far countries in return。'
Bergil clapped his hands； and laughed with relief。 'All is well；' he cried。 'e then！ We were
soon going to the Gate to look on。 We will go now。'
'What is happening there？'
'The Captains of the Outlands are expected up the South Road ere sundown。 e with us and
you will see。'
Bergil proved a good rade； the best pany Pippin had had since he parted from Merry；
and soon they were laughing and talking gaily as they went about the streets； heedless of the many
glances that men gave them。 Before long they found themselves in a throng going towards the
Great Gate。 There Pippin went up much in the esteem of Bergil； for when he spoke his name and
the pass…word the guard saluted him and let him pass through； and what was more； he allowed him
to take his panion with him。
'That is good！' said Bergil。 'We boys are no longer allowed to pass the Gate without an elder。
Now we shall see better。'
Beyond the Gate there was a crowd of men along the verge of the road and of the great paved
space into which all the ways to Minas Tirith ran。 All eyes were turned southwards； and soon a
murmur rose： 'There is dust away there！ They are ing！'
Pippin and Bergil edged their way forward to the front of the crowd； and waited。 Horns sounded
at some distance； and the noise of cheering rolled towards them like a gathering wind。 Then there
was a loud trumpet…blast； and all about them people were shouting。
'Forlong！ Forlong！' Pippin heard men calling。 'What do they say？' he asked。
'Forlong has e；' Bergil answered； 'old Forlong the Fat； the Lord of Lossarnach。 That is where
my grandsire lives。 Hurrah！ Here he is。 Good old Forlong！'
Leading the line there came walking a big thick…limbed horse； and on it sat a man of wide
shoulders and huge girth； but old and grey…bearded； yet mail…clad and black…helmed and bearing a
long heavy spear。 Behind him marched proudly a dusty line of men； well…armed and bearing great
battle…axes； grim…faced they were； and shorter and somewhat swarthier than any men that Pippin
had yet seen in Gondor。
'Forlong！' men shouted。 'True heart； true friend！ Forlong！' But when the men of Lossarnach had
passed they muttered： 'So few！ Two hundreds； what are they？ We hoped for ten times the number。
That will be the new tidings of the black fleet。 They are sparing only a tithe of their strength。 Still
every little is a gain。'
And so the panies came and were hailed and cheered and passed through the Gate； men of
the Outlands marching to defend the City of Gondor in a dark hour； but always too few； always less
than hope looked for or need asked。 The men of Ringló Vale behind the son of their lord； Dervorin
striding on foot： three hundreds。 From the uplands of Morthond； the great Blackroot Vale； tall
Duinhir with his sons； Duilin and Derufin； and five hundred bowmen。 From the Anfalas； the
Langstrand far away； a long line of men of many sorts； hunters and herdsmen and men of little
villages； scantily equipped save for the household of Golasgil their lord。 From Lamedon； a few
grim hillmen without a captain。 Fisher…folk of the Ethir； some hundred or more spared from the
ships。 Hirluin the Fair of the Green Hills from Pinnath Gelin with three hundreds of gallant green…
clad men。 And last and proudest； Imrahil； Prince of Dol Amroth； kinsman of the Lord； with gilded
banners bearing his token of the Ship and the Silver Swan； and a pany of knights in full harness
riding grey horses； and behind them seven hundreds of men at arms； tall as lords； grey…eyed； dark…
haired； singing as they came。
And that was all； less than three thousands full told。 No more would e。 Their cries and the
tramp of their feet passed into the City and died away。 The onlookers stood silent for a while。 Dust