Recent conversations have called to mind a trip I took into the Old Forest, some two years ago now. I'll write the tale in full here, lest I begin to forget it.
I was hunting birds on the western edges of the Bree-fields when night began to fall. Normally, at such a time I would set up camp, but I was so nearby to Buckland that I thought I just ought to find a place to stay there, to save myself the effort and discomfort that go with camping. So I entered Buckland, found a small inn in Newbury, and stayed the night in a rather ill-fitting bed. That morning, as I prepared to leave, I was approached by two hobbits.
The older of the two introduced himself as Gillemin Brandybuck, and the younger as Toly Brockhouse. They were foresters, and they had a problem that they thought I could help them deal with. A huge wolf was lurking near the Old Forest Tunnel, preventing them from doing their work in the forest proper. None of the hobbit hunters were willing to venture into the forest with him about, and he was elusive enough that he couldn't be hit from the safety of Buckland. They agreed to pay me if I were to kill the beast, and so I told them that I would do it.
They took me to the Old Forest Tunnel, where Toly stayed behind. I tried to get him to go to the market in Crickhollow to sell my bag of bird meat for me (which I still carried from my hunting expedition), but he wanted to stay near the tunnel to watch for us to return. So Gillemin and I entered, watchful for signs of the wolf. We made it as far as the Bonfire Glade before Gillemin wanted to turn back.
"Nobody's gone farther than here since that menace of a wolf showed up. It would be fine if I was a strong man with a bow, but I'd rather not be his first victim. I'm too old to die like that!"
Naturally, I told him he could return, but I would do no such thing. Of course, that left me without a guide in that strange forest, and while I continued a little ways past the glade, I eventually realized that if I went any further I would be terribly lost. And still there was no sign of the wolf, which supposedly stayed rather close to the hedge. So, after a little deliberating, I too turned back. Somewhere between the hedge and the Bonfire Glade I stopped, and decided to wait for the wolf to come to me.
I climbed a tree and threw down a few chunks of bird meat that I still carried with me. I took aim at the spot and waited. In the meantime, an eerie green fog seemed to settle near the ground, almost obscuring my view of the trap. A wind blew, but the fog only got thicker. Then, suddenly, the wind stopped, but the trees kept shaking. A crowd of bats flew out of the tree next to me, and they moved across the sky despite it still being day. But one was slower than the others, and at that moment I swear I saw one of the branches of that tree swat the bat out of the sky.
I turned my aim to the tree, as if an arrow might deter it from swatting me out of the air, but at that moment I heard movement below. Through the fog I could make out the vague shape of a wolf, so I turned my aim back as quick as I could and shot three arrows in quick succession. I climbed down the tree and observed the scene: luckily, it appeared I had in fact wounded something, but it had gotten away.
There was now a clear trail that the creature followed, south along the hedge. Spots of blood appeared every so often on the ferns and grass, and the ground was carelessly trampled. The creature just wanted to get as far away as possible, as quick as possible, so it followed a generally easy path. Still, I did not know the ways through that forest myself, so I expected the journey back to be a little difficult.
I found the wolf lying in a heap near a small river, the Withywindle. I had hit him with two arrows in the back, and over the course of his flight he bled out. I threw the wolf's corpse over my shoulder, and contemplated how, exactly, I would get back to Buckland. Eventually I decided that, while the paths of the forest are said to change, never did they say the path of the Withywindle would change. Always it would flow into the Brandywine, no matter what form the trees around it would take. So, sticking to the north side of the river, I followed it through the forest to where it came out into the Brandywine. From there I went northwards to Buckland, and I followed the hedge along the forest's edge to the tunnel, where Toly and Gillemin still waited for me.
They paid me plenty, and they even compensated me for the bird meat I used to lure the wolf. Taking this I went to the market at Crickhollow, sold the rest of my meat, and then stayed the night at that same inn in Newbury. The next morning I began my journey back to Bree, which proved to take less time than usual, for no other reason than that I wanted to be as far away from that forest as possible.
I still haven't returned, but to be honest I wouldn't be opposed to it. As long as I have a guide with me and I don't almost get lost again, I'd like to be sure of my strange sights in there.
