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； who was lying nearest； and towards the hilt of the sword that lay upon him。
At first Frodo felt as if he had indeed been turned into stone by the incantation。 Then a wild thought of escape came to him。 He wondered if he put on the Ring； whether the Barrowwight would miss him； and he might find some way out。 He thought of himself running free over the grass； grieving for Merry； and Sam； and Pippin； but free and alive himself。 Gandalf would admit that there had been nothing else he could do。
But the courage that had been awakened in him was now too strong： he could not leave his friends so easily。 He wavered； groping in his pocket； and then fought with himself again； and as he did so the arm crept nearer。 Suddenly resolve hardened in him； and he seized a short sword that lay beside him； and kneeling he stooped low over the bodies of his panions。 With what strength he had he hewed at the crawling arm near the wrist； and the hand broke off； but at the same moment the sword splintered up to the hilt。 There was a shriek and the light vanished。 In the dark there was a snarling noise。
Frodo fell forward over Merry； and Merry's face felt cold。 All at once back into his mind； from which it had disappeared with the first ing of the fog； came the memory of the house down under the Hill； and of Tom singing。 He remembered the rhyme that Tom had taught them。 In a small desperate voice he began： Ho！ Tom Bombadil！ and with that name his voice seemed to grow strong： it had a full and lively sound； and the dark chamber echoed as if to drum and trumpet。
Ho！ Tom Bombadil； Tom Bombadillo！
By water； wood and hill； by the reed and willow；
By fire； sun and moon； harken now and hear us！
e； Tom Bombadil； for our need is near us！
There was a sudden deep silence； in which Frodo could hear his heart beating。 After a long slow moment he heard plain； but far away； as if it was ing down through the ground or through thick walls； an answering voice singing：
Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow；
Bright blue his jacket is； and his boots are yellow。
None has ever caught him yet； for Tom； he is the master：
His songs are stronger songs； and his feet are faster。
There was a loud rumbling sound； as of stones rolling and falling； and suddenly light streamed in； real light； the plain light of day。 A low door like opening appeared at the end of the chamber beyond Frodo's feet； and there was Tom's head （hat； feather； and all） framed against the light of the sun rising red behind him。 The light fell upon the floor； and upon the faces of the three hobbits lying beside Frodo。 They did not stir； but the sickly hue had left them。 They looked now as if they were only very deeply asleep。
Tom stooped； removed his hat； and came into the dark chamber； singing：
Get out； you old Wight！ Vanish in the sunlight！
Shrivel like the cold mist； like the winds go wailing；
Out into the barren lands far beyond the mountains！
e never here again！ Leave your barrow empty！
Lost and fotten be； darker than the darkness；
Where gates stand for ever shut； till the world is mended。
At these words there was a cry and part of the inner end of the chamber fell in with a crash。 Then there was a long trailing shriek； fading away into an unguessable distance； and after that silence。
'e； friend Frodo！' said Tom。 'Let us get out on to clean grass！ You must help me bear them。'
Together they carried out Merry； Pippin； and Sam。 As Frodo left the barrow for the last time he thought he saw a severed hand wriggling still； like a wounded spider； in a heap of fallen earth。 Tom went back in again； and there was a sound of much thumping and stamping。 When he came out he was bearing in his arms a great load of treasure： things of gold； silver； copper； and bronze； many beads and chains and jewelled ornaments。 He climbed the green barrow and laid them all on top in the sunshine。
There he stood； with his hat in his hand and the wind in his hair； and looked down upon the three hobbits； that had been laid on their backs upon the grass at the west side of the mound。 Raising his right hand he said in a clear and manding voice：
Wake now my merry tads！ Wake and hear me calling！
Warm now be heart and limb！ The cold stone is fallen；
Dark door is standing wide； dead hand is broken。
Night under Night is flown； and the Gate is open！
To Frodo's great joy the hobbits stirred； stretched their arms； rubbed their eyes； and then suddenly sprang up。 They looked about in amazement； first at Frodo； and then at Tom standing large as life on the barrowtop above them； and then at themselves in their thin white rags； crowned and belted with pale gold； and jingling with trinkets。
'What in the name of wonder？' began Merry； feeling the golden circlet that had slipped over one eye。 Then he stopped； and a shadow came over his face； and he closed his eyes。 'Of course； I remember！' he said。 'The men of Carn D。m came on us at night； and we were worsted。 Ah！ the spear in my heart！' He clutched at his breast。 'No！ No！' he said； opening his eyes。 'What am I saying？ I have been dreaming。 Where did you get to； Frodo？'
'I thought that I was lost；' said Frodo； 'but I don't want to speak of it。 Let us think of what we are to do now！ Let us go on！'
'Dressed up like this； sir？' said Sam。 'Where are my clothes？' He flung his circlet； belt； and rings on the grass； and looked round helplessly； as if he expected to find his cloak； jacket； and breeches； and other hobbitgarments lying somewhere to hand。
'You won't find your clothes again；' said Tom； bounding down from the mound； and laughing as he danced round them in the sunlight。 One would have thought that nothing dangerous or dreadful had happened； and indeed the horror faded out of their hearts as they looked at him； and saw the merry glint in his eyes。
'What do you mean？' asked Pippin； looking at him； half puzzled and half amused。 'Why not？'
But Tom shook his head； saying： 'You've found yourselves again； out of the deep water。 Clothes are but little loss； if you escape from drowning。 Be glad； my merry friends； and let the warm sunlight heal now heart and limb！ Cast off these cold rags！ Run naked on the grass； while Tom goes ahunting！'
He sprang away down hill； whistling and calling。 Looking down after him Frodo saw him running away southwards along the green hollow between their hill and the next； still whistling and crying：
Hey！ now！ e hoy now！ Whither do you wander？
Up； down； near or far； here； there or yonder？
Sharpears； Wisenose； Swishtail and Bumpkin；
Whitesocks my little lad； and old Fatty Lumpkin！
So he sang； running fast； tossing up his hat and catching it； until he was hidden by a fold of the ground： but for some time his hey now！ hoy now！ came floating back down the wind； which had shifted round towards the south。
The air was growing very warm again。 The hobbits ran about for a while on the grass； as he told them。 Then they lay basking in the sun with the delight of those that have been wafted suddenly from bitter winter to a friendly clime； or of people that； after being long ill and bedridden； wake one day to find that they are unexpectedly well and the day is again full of promise。
By the time that Tom returned they were feeling strong （and hungry）。 He reappeared； hat first； over the brow of the hill； and behind him came in an obedient line six ponies： their own five and one more。 The last was plainly old Fatty Lumpkin： he was larger； stronger； fatter （and older） than their own ponies。 Merry； to whom the others belonged； had not； in fact； given them any such names； but they answered to the new names that Tom had given them for the rest of their lives。 Tom called them one by one and they climbed over the brow and stood in a line。 Then Tom bowed to the hobbits。
'Here are your ponies； now！' he said。 'They've more sense （in some ways） than you wandering hobbits have 。 more sense in their noses。 For they sniff danger ahead which you walk right into； and if they run to save themselves； then they run the right way。 You must five them all； for though their hearts are faithful； to face fear of Barrowwights is not what they were made for。 See； here they e again； bringing all their burdens！'
Merry； Sam； and Pippin now clot