The fallen friend
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Treebeard rumbled for a moment, as if he were pronouncing some deep, subterranean Entish malediction. ‘Some time ago I began to wonder how Orcs dared to pass through my woods so freely,’ he went on. ‘Only lately did I guess that Saruman was to blame, and that long ago he had been spying out all the ways, and discovering my secrets. He and his foul folk are making havoc now. Down on the borders they are felling trees – good trees. Some of the trees they just cut down and leave to rot – orc-mischief that; but most are hewn up and carried off to feed the fires of Orthanc. There is always a smoke rising from Isengard these days.
‘Curse him, root and branch! Many of those trees were my friends, creatures I had known fromnut and acorn; many had voices of their own that are lost for ever now. And there are wastes ofstump and bramble where once there were singing groves. I have been idle. I have let things slip.It must stop!’
– Fangorn. The Lord of the Rings, Volume Two: The Two Towers, Book Three: The Treason Of Isengard, Chapter 4: Treebeard