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'My friends are caught in the
willow tree,' cried Frodo breathlessly.
'Master Merry's being squeezed in a crack!' cried Sam.
'What?' shouted Tom Bombadil, leaping up in the air. 'Old Man Willow? Naught worse than
that, eh? That can soon be mended. I know the tune for him. Old grey Willow-man! I'll
freeze his marrow cold, if he don't behave himself. I'll sing his roots off. I'll sing a
wind up and blow leaf and branch away. Old Man Willow!'
Setting down his lillies carefully on the grass, he ran to the tree. There he saw Merry's
feet still sticking out--the rest had already been drawn further inside. Tom put his mouth
to the crack and began singing into it in a low voice. They could not catch the words, but
evidently Merry was aroused. His legs began to kick. Tom sprang away, and breaking off a
hanging branch smote the side of the willow with it. 'You let them out again, Old Man
Willow!' he said. 'What be you a-thinking of? You should not be waking. Eat earth! Dig
deep! Drink water! Go to sleep! Bombadil is talking!' He then seized Merry's feet and drew
him out of the suddenly widening crack.
There was a tearing creak and the other crack split open, and out of it Pippin sprang, as
if he had been kicked. Then with a loud snap both cracks closed fast again. A shudder ran
through the tree from root to tip, and complete silence fell.
