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Soon after six o'clock the five hobbits were ready to start. Fatty Bolger was still yawning. They stole quietly out of the house. Merry went in front leading a laden pony, and took his way along a path that went through a spinney behind the house, and then cut across several fields. The leaves of trees were glistening, and every twig was dripping; the grass was grey with cold dew. Everything was still, and far-away noises seemed near and clear: fowls chattering in a yard, someone closing a door of a distant house.
In their shed they found the ponies; sturdy little beasts of the kind loved by hobbits,
not speedy, but good for a long day's work. They mounted, and soon they were riding off
into the mist, which seemed to open reluctantly before them and close forbiddingly behind
them. After riding for about an hour, slowly and without talking, they saw the Hedge
looming suddenly ahead. It was tall and netted over with silver cobwebs.
'How are you going to get through this?' asked Fredegar.
'Follow me!' said Merry, 'and you will see.' He turned to the left along the Hedge, and
soon they came to a point where it bent inwards, running along the lip of a hollow. A
cutting had been made, at some distance from the Hedge, and went sloping gently down into
the ground. It had walls of brick at the sides, which rose steadily, until suddenly they
arched over and formed a tunnel that dived deep under the Hedge and came out in the hollow
on the other side.
