woods in the evening, passing and not returning; but they were leaving
Middle-earth and were no longer concerned with its troubles. There
were, however, dwarves on the road in unusual numbers. The ancient
East-West Road ran through the Shire to its end at the Grey Havens,
and dwarves had always used it on their way to their mines in the Blue
Mountains. They were the hobbits’ chief source of news from distant
parts - if they wanted any: as a rule dwarves said little and hobbits
asked no more. But now Frodo often met strange dwarves of far
countries, seeking refuge in the West. They were troubled, and some
spoke in whispers of the Enemy and of the Land of Mordor.
     That name the hobbits only knew in legends of the dark past, like a
shadow in the background of their memories; but it was ominous and
disquieting. It seemed that the evil power in Mirkwood had been driven
out by the White Council only to reappear in greater strength in the
old strongholds of Mordor. The Dark Tower had been rebuilt, it was
said. From there the power was spreading far and wide, and away far
east and south there were wars and growing fear. Orcs were multiplying
again in the mountains. Trolls were abroad, no longer dull-witted, but
cunning and armed with dreadful weapons. And there were murmured hints
of creatures more terrible than all these, but they had no name.