The Folk of Haleth were strangers to the other Atani, speaking an alien language; and though united with them in alliance with the Eldar, they remained a people apart. Among themselves they adhered to their own language, and though of necessity they learned Sindarin for communication with the Eldar and the other Atani, many spoke it haltingly, and some of those who seldom went beyond the borders of their own woods did not use it at all. They did not willingly adopt new things or customs, and retained many practices that seemed strange to the Eldar and the other Atani, with whom they had few dealings except in war. Nonetheless they were esteemed as loyal allies and redoubtable warriors, though the companies that they sent to battle beyond their borders were small. For they were and remained to their end a small people, chiefly concerned to protect their own woodlands, and they excelled in forest warfare. Indeed for long even those Orcs specially trained for this dared not set foot near their borders. One of the strange practices spoken of was that many of their warriors were women, though few of these went abroad to fight in the great battles. This custom was evidently ancient; 1 for their chieftainess Haleth was a renowned Amazon with a picked bodyguard of women. 2
The strangest of all the customs of the Folk of Haleth was the presence among them of people of a wholly different kind, 3 the like of which neither the Eldar in Beleriand nor the other Atani had ever seen before. They were not many, a few hundreds maybe, living apart in families or small tribes, but in friendship, as members of the same community. 4 The Folk of Haleth called them by the name drûg, that being a word of their own language. To the eyes of Elves and other Men they were unlovely in looks: they were stumpy (some four foot high) but very broad, with heavy buttocks and short thick legs; their wide faces had deep-set eyes with heavy brows, and flat noses, and grew no hair below their eyebrows, except in a few men (who were proud of the distinction) a small tail of black hair in the midst of the chin. Their features were usually impassive, the most mobile being their wide mouths; and the movement of their wary eyes could not be observed save from close at hand, for they were so black that the pupils could not be distinguished, but in anger they glowed red. Their voices were deep and guttural, but their laughter was a surprise: it was rich and rolling, and set all who heard it, Elves or Men, laughing too for its pure merriment untainted by scorn or malice. 5 In peace they often laughed at work or play when other Men might sing. But they could be relentless enemies, and when once aroused their red wrath was slow to cool, though it showed no sign save the light in their eyes; for they fought in silence and did not exult in victory, not even over Orcs, the only creatures for whom their hatred was implacable.
The Eldar called them Drúedain, admitting them to the rank of Atani, 6 for they were much loved while they lasted. Alas! they were not long-lived, and were ever few in number, and their losses were heavy in their feud with the Orcs, who returned their hatred and delighted to capture them and torture them. When the victories of Morgoth destroyed all the realms and strongholds of Elves and Men in Beleriand, it is said that they had dwindled to a few families, mostly of women and children, some of whom came to the last refuges at the Mouths of Sirion. 7
In their earlier days they had been of great service to those among whom they dwelt, and they were much sought after; though few would ever leave the land of the Folk of Haleth. 8 They had a marvellous skill as trackers of all living creatures, and they taught to their friends what they could of their craft; but their pupils did not equal them, for the Drúedain used their scent, like hounds save that they were also keen-eyed. They boasted that they could smell an Orc to windward further away than other Men could see them, and could follow its scent for weeks except through running water. Their knowledge of all growing things was almost equal to that of the Elves (though untaught by them); and it is said that if they removed to a new country they knew within a short time all things that grew there, great or minute, and gave names to those that were new to them, discerning those that were poisonous, or useful as food. 9
The Drúedain, as also the other Atani, had no form of writing until they met the Eldar; but the runes and scripts of the Eldar were never learned by them. They came no nearer to writing by their own invention than the use of a number of signs, for the most part simple, for the marking of trails or the giving of information and warning. In the far distant past they appear already to have had small tools of flint for scraping and cutting, and these they still used, although the Atani had a knowledge of metals and some smith-craft before they came to Beleriand, 10 for metals were hard to come by and forged weapons and tools very costly. But when in Beleriand by association with the Eldar and in traffic with the Dwarves of Ered Lindon these things became more common, the Drúedain showed great talent for carving in wood or stone. They already had a knowledge of pigments, derived chiefly from plants, and they drew pictures and patterns on wood or flat surfaces of stone; and sometimes they would scrape knobs of wood into faces that could be painted. But with sharper and stronger tools they delighted in carving figures of men and beasts, whether toys and ornaments or large images, to which the most skilled among them could give vivid semblance of life. Sometimes these images were strange and fantastic, or even fearful: among the grim jests to which they put their skill was the making of Orc-figures which they set at the borders of the land, shaped as if fleeing from it, shrieking in terror. They made also images of themselves and placed them at the entrances to tracks or at turnings of woodland paths. These they called ‘watch-stones’ of which the most notable were set near the Crossings of Teiglin, each representing a Drúadan, larger than the life, squatting heavily upon a dead Orc. These figures served not merely as insults to their enemies; for the Orcs feared them and believed them to be filled with the malice of the Oghor-hai (for so they named the Drúedain), and able to hold communication with them. Therefore they seldom dared to touch them, or to try to destroy them, and unless in great numbers would turn back at a ‘watch-stone’; and go no further.
But among the powers of this strange people perhaps most to be remarked was their capacity of utter silence and stillness, which they could at times endure for many days on end, sitting with their legs crossed, their hands upon their knees or in their laps, and their eyes closed or looking at the ground. Concerning this a tale was related among the Folk of Haleth:
On a time, one of the most skilled in stone-carving among the Drûgs made an image of his father, who had died; and he set it up by a pathway near to their dwelling. Then he sat down beside it and passed into a deep silence of recollection. It chanced that not long after a forester came by on a journey to a distant village, and seeing two Drûgs he bowed and wished them good day. But he received no answer, and he stood for some time in surprise, looking closely at them. Then he went on his way, saying to himself: ‘Great skill have they in stone-work, but I have never seen any more lifelike.’ Three days later he returned, and being very weary he sat down and propped his back against one of the figures. His cloak he cast about its shoulders to dry, for it had been raining, but the sun was now shining hot. There he fell asleep; but after a while he was wakened by a voice from the figure behind him. ‘I hope you are rested,’ it said, ‘but if you wish for more sleep, I beg you to move to the other one. He will never need to stretch his legs again; and I find your cloak too hot in the sun.’
It is said that the Drúedain would often sit thus in times of grief or loss, but sometimes for pleasure in thought, or in the making of plans. But they could also use this stillness when on guard; and then they would sit or stand, hidden in shadow, and though their eyes might seem closed or staring with a blank gaze nothing passed or came near that was not marked and remembered. So intense was their unseen vigilance that it could be felt as a hostile menace by intruders, who retreated in fear before any warning was given; but if any evil thing passed on, then they would utter as a signal a shrill whistle, painful to endure close at hand and heard far off. The service of the Drúedain as guards was much esteemed by the Folk of Haleth in times of peril; and if such guards were not to be had they would have figures carved in their likeness to set near their houses, believing that (being made by the Drúedain themselves for the purpose) they would hold some of the menace of the living men.
Indeed, though they held the Drúedain in love and trust, many of the Folk of Haleth believed that they possessed uncanny and magical powers; and among their tales of marvels there were several that told of such things. One of these is recorded here.
The Faithful Stone
On a time there was a Drûg named Aghan, well-known as a leech. He had a great friendship with Barach, a forester of the Folk, who lived in a house in the woods two miles or more from the nearest village. The dwellings of Aghan’s family were nearer, and he spent most of his time with Barach and his wife, and was much loved by their children. There came a time of trouble, for a number of daring Orcs had secretly entered the woods nearby, and were scattered in twos and threes, waylaying any that went abroad alone, and at night attacking houses far from neighbours. The household of Barach were not much afraid, for Aghan stayed with them at night and kept watch outside. But one morning he came to Barach and said: ‘Friend, I have ill news from my kin, and I fear I must leave you a while. My brother has been wounded, and he lies now in pain and calls for me, since I have skill in treating Orc-wounds. I will return as soon as I may.’ Barach was greatly troubled, and his wife and children wept, but Aghan said: ‘I will do what I can. I have had a watch-stone brought here and set near your house.’ Barach went out with Aghan and looked at the watch-stone. It was large and heavy and sat under some bushes not far from his doors. Aghan laid his hand upon it, and after a silence said: ‘See, I have left with it some of my powers. May it keep you from harm!’
Nothing untoward happened for two nights, but on the third night Barach heard the shrill warning call of the Drûgs – or dreamed that he heard it, for it roused no one else. Leaving his bed he took his bow from the wall and went to a narrow window; and he saw two Orcs setting fuel against his house and preparing to kindle it. Then Barach was shaken with fear, for marauding Orcs carried with them brimstone or some other devilish stuff that was quickly inflamed and not quenched with water. Recovering himself he bent his bow, but at that moment, just as the flames leapt up, he saw a Drûg come running up behind the Orcs. One he felled with a blow of his fist, and the other fled; then he plunged barefoot into the fire, scattering the burning fuel and stamping on the Orc-flames that ran along the ground. Barach made for the doors, but when he had unbarred them and sprang out the Drûg had disappeared. There was no sign of the smitten Orc. The fire was dead, and there remained only a smoke and a stench.
Barach went back indoors to comfort his family, who had been roused by the noises and the burning reek; but when it was daylight he went out again and looked about. He found that the watch-stone had gone, but he kept that to himself. ‘Tonight I must be the watchman,’ he thought; but later in the day Aghan came back, and was welcomed with joy. He was wearing high buskins such as the Drûgs sometimes wore in hard country, among thorns or rocks, and he was weary. But he was smiling, and seemed pleased; and he said: ‘I bring good news. My brother is no longer in pain and will not die, for I came in time to withstand the venom. And now I learn that the marauders have been slain, or else fled. How have you fared?’
‘We are still alive,’ said Barach. ‘But come with me, and I will show you and tell you more.’ Then he led Aghan to the place of the fire and told him of the attack in the night. ‘The watch-stone has gone – Orc-work, I guess. What have you to say to that?’
‘I will speak, when I have looked and thought longer,’ said Aghan; and then he went hither and thither scanning the ground, and Barach followed him. At length Aghan led him to a thicket at the edge of the clearing in which the house stood. There the watch-stone was, sitting on a dead Orc; but its legs were all blackened and cracked, and one of its feet had split off and lay loose at its side. Aghan looked grieved; but he said: ‘Ah well! He did what he could. And better that his legs should trample Orc-fire than mine.’
Then he sat down and unlaced his buskins, and Barach saw that under them there were bandages on his legs. Aghan undid them. ‘They are healing already,’ he said. ‘I had kept vigil by my brother for two nights, and last night I slept. I woke before morning came, and I was in pain, and found my legs blistered. Then I guessed what had happened. Alas! If some power passes from you to a thing that you have made, then you must take a share in its hurts.’ 11
Further notes on the Drúedain
My father was at pains to emphasize the radical difference between the Drúedain and the Hobbits. They were of quite different physical shape and appearance. The Drúedain were taller, and of heavier and stronger build. Their facial features were unlovely (judged by general human standards); and while the head-hair of the Hobbits was abundant (but close and curly) the Drúedain had only sparse and lank hair on their heads and none at all on their legs and feet. They were at times merry and gay, like Hobbits, but they had a grimmer side to their nature and could be sardonic and ruthless; and they had, or were credited with, strange or magical powers. They were moreover a frugal people, eating sparingly even in times of plenty and drinking nothing but water. In some ways they resembled rather the Dwarves: in build and stature and endurance; in their skill in carving stone; in the grim side of their character; and in their strange powers. But the ‘magic’ skills with which the Dwarves were credited were quite different; and the Dwarves were far grimmer, and also long-lived, whereas the Drúedain were short-lived compared with other kinds of Men.
Only once, in an isolated note, is anything said explicitly concerning the relationship between the Drúedain of Beleriand in the First Age, who guarded the houses of the Folk of Haleth in the Forest of Brethil, and the remote ancestors of Ghân-buri-Ghân, who guided the Rohirrim down the Stonewain Valley on their way to Minas Tirith (The Return of the King V 5), or the makers of the images on the road to Dunharrow (ibid. V 3). 12 This note states:
An emigrant branch of the Drúedain accompanied the Folk of Haleth at the end of the First Age, and dwelt in the Forest [of Brethil] with them. But most of them had remained in the White Mountains, in spite of their persecution by later-arrived Men, who had relapsed into the service of the Dark.
It is also said here that the identity of the statues of Dunharrow with the remnants of the Drúath (perceived by Meriadoc Brandybuck when he first set eyes on Ghânburi-Ghân) was originally recognized in Gondor, though at the time of the establishment of the Númenórean kingdom by Isildur they survived only in the Drúadan Forest and in the Drúwaith Iaur (see below).
We can thus if we wish elaborate the ancient legend of the coming of the Edain in The Silmarillion (pp. 140 – 3) by the addition of the Drúedain, descending out of Ered Lindon into Ossiriand with the Haladin (the Folk of Haleth). Another note says that historians in Gondor believed that the first Men to cross the Anduin were indeed the Drúedain. They came (it was believed) from lands south of Mordor, but before they reached the coasts of Haradwaith they turned north into Ithilien, and eventually finding a way across the Anduin (probably near Cair Andros) settled in the vales of the White Mountains and the wooded lands at their northern feet. ‘They were a secretive people, suspicious of other kinds of Men by whom they had been harried and persecuted as long as they could remember, and they had wandered west seeking a land where they could be hidden and have peace.’ But nothing more is said, here or elsewhere, concerning the history of their association with the Folk of Haleth.
In an essay, cited previously, on the names of rivers in Middle-earth there is a glimpse of the Drúedain in the Second Age. It is said here (see p. 341) that the native people of Enedwaith, fleeing from the devastations of the Númenóreans along the course of the Gwathló,
did not cross the Isen nor take refuge in the great promontory between Isen and Lefnui that formed the north arm of the Bay of Belfalas, because of the ‘Púkel-men’, who were a secret and fell people, tireless and silent hunters, using poisoned darts. They said that they had always been there, and had formerly lived also in the White Mountains. In ages past they had paid no heed to the Great Dark One (Morgoth), nor did they later ally themselves with Sauron; for they hated all invaders from the East. From the East, they said, had come the tall Men who drove them from the White Mountains, and they were wicked at heart. Maybe even in the days of the War of the Ring some of the Drû-folk lingered in the mountains of Andrast, the western outlier of the White Mountains, but only the remnant in the woods of Anórien were known to the people of Gondor.
This region between Isen and Lefnui was the Drúwaith Iaur, and in yet another scrap of writing on this subject it is stated that the word Iaur ‘old’ in this name does not mean ‘original’ but ‘former’:
The ‘Púkel-men’ occupied the White Mountains (on both sides) in the First Age. When the occupation of the coastlands by the Númenóreans began in the Second Age they survived in the mountains of the promontory [of Andrast], which was never occupied by the Númenóreans. Another remnant survived at the eastern end of the range [in Anórien]. At the end of the Third Age the latter, much reduced in numbers, were believed to be the only survivors; hence the other region was called ‘the Old Púkel-wilderness’ (Drúwaith Iaur). It remained a ‘wilderness’ and was not inhabited by Men of Gondor or of Rohan, and was seldom entered by any of them; but Men of the Anfalas believed that some of the old ‘Wild Men’ still lived there secretly. 13
But in Rohan the identity of the statues of Dunharrow called ‘Púkel-men’ with the ‘Wild Men’ of the Drúadan Forest was not recognized, neither was their ‘humanity’: hence the reference by Ghân-buri-Ghân to persecution of the ‘Wild Men’ by the Rohirrim in the past [‘leave Wild Men alone in the woods and do not hunt them like beasts any more’]. Since Ghân-buri-Ghân was attempting to use the Common Speech he called his people ‘Wild Men’ (not without irony); but this was not of course their own name for themselves. 14
NOTES
1 Not due to their special situation in Beleriand, and maybe rather a cause of their small numbers than its result. They increased in numbers far more slowly than the other Atani, hardly more than was sufficient to replace the wastage of war; yet many of their women (who were fewer than the men) remained unwed. [Author’s note.]
2 In The Silmarillion Bëor described the Haladin (afterwards called the People or Folk of Haleth) to Felagund as ‘a people from whom we are sundered in speech’ (p. 142). It is said also that ‘they remained a people apart’ (p. 146), and that they were of smaller stature than the men of the House of Bëor; ‘they used few words, and did not love great concourse of men; and many among them delighted in solitude, wandering free in the greenwoods while the wonder of the lands of the Eldar was new upon them’ (p. 148). Nothing is said in The Silmarillion about the Amazonian element in their society, other than that the Lady Haleth was a warrior and the leader of the people, nor of their adherence to their own language in Beleriand.
3 Though they spoke the same language (after their fashion). They retained however a number of words of their own. [Author’s note].
4 After the fashion in which in the Third Age the Men and Hobbits of Bree lived together; though there was no kinship between the Drûg-folk and the Hobbits. [Author’s note].
5 To the unfriendly who, not knowing them well, declared that Morgoth must have bred the Orcs from such a stock the Eldar answered: ‘Doubtless Morgoth, since he can make no living thing, bred Orcs from various kinds of Men, but the Drúedain must have escaped his Shadow; for their laughter and the laughter of Orcs are as different as is the light of Aman from the darkness of Angband.’ But some thought, nonetheless, that there had been a remote kinship. which accounted for their special enmity. Orcs and Drûgs each regarded the other as renegades. [Author’s note.] – In The Silmarillion the Orcs are said to have been bred by Melkor from captured Elves in the beginning of their days (p. 50; cf. pp. 93 – 4); but this was only one of several diverse speculations on the origin of the Orcs. It may be noted that in The Return of the King V 5 the laughter of Ghân-buri-Ghân is described: ‘At that old Ghân made a curious gurgling noise, and it seemed that he was laughing.’ He is described as having a scanty beard that ‘straggled on his lumpy chin like dry moss’, and dark eyes that showed nothing.
6 It is stated in isolated notes that their own name for themselves was Drughu (in which the gh represents a spirantal sound). This name adopted into Sindarin in Beleriand became Drû (plurals Drúin and Drúath); but when the Eldar discovered that the Drû-folk were steadfast enemies of Morgoth, and especially of the Orcs, the ‘title’ adan was added, and they were called Drúedain (singular Drúadan), to mark both their humanity and friendship with the Eldar, and their racial difference from the people of the Three Houses of the Edain. Drû was then only used in compounds such as Drúnos ‘a family of the Drû-folk’, Drúwaith ‘the wilderness of the Drû-folk’. In Quenya Drughu became Rú, and Rúatan, plural Rúatani. For their other names in later times (Wild Men, Woses, Púkel-men) see p. 496 and note 14.
7 In the annals of Númenor it is said that this remnant was permitted to sail over sea with the Atani, and in the peace of the new land throve and increased again, but took no more part in war, for they dreaded the sea. What happened to them later is only recorded in one of the few legends that survived the Downfall, the story of the first sailings of the Númenóreans back to Middle-earth, known as The Mariner’s Wife. In a copy of this written and preserved in Gondor there is a note by the scribe on a passage in which the Drúedain in the household of King Aldarion the Mariner are mentioned: it relates that the Drúedain, who were ever noted for their strange foresight, were disturbed to hear of his voyages, foreboding that evil would come of them, and begged him to go no more. But they did not succeed, since neither his father nor his wife could prevail on him to change his courses, and the Drúedain departed in distress. From that time onward the Drúedain of Númenor became restless, and despite their fear of the sea one by one, or in twos and threes, they would beg for passages in the great ships that sailed to the North-western shores of Middle-earth. If any asked ‘Why would you go, and whither?’ they answered: ‘The Great Isle no longer feels sure under our feet, and we wish to return to the lands whence we came.’ Thus their numbers dwindled again slowly through the long years, and none were left when Elendil escaped from the Downfall: the last had fled the land when Sauron was brought to it. [Author’s note.] – There is no trace, either in the materials relating to the story of Aldarion and Erendis or elsewhere, of the presence of Drúedain in Númenor apart from the foregoing, save for a detached note which says that ‘the Edain who at the end of the War of the Jewels sailed over sea to Númenor contained few remnants of the Folk of Haleth, and the very few Drúedain that accompanied them died out long before the Downfall’.
8 A few lived in the household of Húrin of the House of Hador, for he had dwelt among the Folk of Haleth in his youth and had kinship with their lord. [Author’s note.] – On the relationship of Húrin to the Folk of Haleth see The Silmarillion p. 158. – It was my father’s intention ultimately to transform Sador, the old serving-man in Húrin’s house in Dor-lómin, into a Drûg.
9 They had a law against the use of all poisons for the hurt of any living creatures, even those who had done them injury – save only Orcs, whose poisoned darts they countered with others more deadly. [Author’s note.] – Elfhelm told Meriadoc Brandybuck that the Wild Men used poisoned arrows (The Return of the King V 5), and the same was believed of them by the inhabitants of Enedwaith in the Second Age (p. 495). At a later point in this essay something is told of the dwellings of the Drúedain, which it is convenient to cite here. Living among the Folk of Haleth, who were a woodland people, ‘they were content to live in tents or shelters, lightly built round the trunks of large trees, for they were a hardy race. In their former homes, according to their own tales, they had used caves in the mountains, but mainly as store-houses, only occupied as dwellings and sleeping-places in severe weather. They had similar refuges in Beleriand to which all but the most hardy retreated in times of storm or bitter winter; but these places were guarded and not even their closest friends among the Folk of Haleth were welcomed there.’
10 Acquired according to their legends from the Dwarves. [Author’s note.]
11 Of this story my father remarked: ‘The tales, such as The Faithful Stone, that speak of their transferring part of their “powers” to their artefacts, remind one in miniature of Sauron’s transference of power to the foundations of the Barad-dûr and to the Ruling Ring.’
12 ‘At each turn of the road there were great standing stones that had been carved in the likeness of men, huge and clumsy-limbed, squatting cross-legged with their stumpy arms folded on fat bellies. Some in the wearing of the years had lost all features save the dark holes of their eyes that still stared sadly at the passer-by.’
13 The name Drúwaith Iaur (Old Púkel-land) appears on Miss Pauline Baynes’ decorated map of Middle-earth (see p. 339), placed well to the north of the mountains of the promontory of Andrast. My father stated however that the name was inserted by him and was correctly placed. – A marginal jotting states that after the Battles of the Fords of Isen it was found that many Drúedain did indeed survive in the Drúwaith Iaur, for they came forth from the caves where they dwelt to attack remnants of Saruman’s forces that had been driven away southwards. – In a passage cited on p. 479 there is a reference to tribes of ‘Wild Men’, fishers and fowlers, on the coasts of Enedwaith, who were akin in race and speech to the Drúedain of Anórien.
14 Once in The Lord of the Rings the term ‘Woses’ is used, when Elfhelm said to Meriadoc Brandybuck: ‘You hear the Woses, the Wild Men of the Woods.’ Wose is a modernization (in this case, the form that the word would have had now if it still existed in the language) of an Anglo-Saxon word wása, which is actually found only in the compound wudu-wása ‘wild man of the woods’. (Saeros the Elf of Doriath called Túrin a ‘woodwose’, p. 105 above. The word survived long in English and was eventually corrupted into ‘wood-house’.) The actual word employed by the Rohirrim (of which ‘wose’ is a translation, according to the method employed throughout) is once mentioned: róg, plural rógin.
It seems that the term ‘Púkel-men’ (again a translation: it represents Anglo-Saxon púcel ‘goblin, demon’, a relative of the word púca from which Puck is derived) was only used in Rohan of the images of Dunharrow.