A cold wind from the north chilled the bones as they struggled forward. It was noon on the seventh day and they finally spotted the old oak. They were both stressed, if they actually managed to rescue the hobbit they had to turn home at once. Besides the fact that they hadn't sold the tea yet bothered them as well. It was a big problem, neither one of them wanted to have a dragon as an enemy.

A wide river crossed the path on which they walked. Gra'skâgg looked in both directions as they stopped by the shoreline but couldn't see any passage or bridge to the other side of the water. This could be yet another problem. What would they do, what could they do? One thing was clear, they couldn't turn around and go home again so near the ending of their journey. Sîl'bûrk, who usually was happily unaware of any problem that was present, started to get frustrated. He mumbled to himself and kicked in the grass by the waterline.

- Ouch, he yelled and jumped around on one leg holding his other foot in his hand. He tripped and fell backwards, still cursing. Gra'skâgg looked at him in surprise. He had never heard his old friend curse before. Then something struck him. What was it Sîl'bûrk had kicked on? As he kneeled and pushed the grass aside an old dry log appeared before him. Could this be the solution? He thought for a while, listening to the cursing and mumbling beside him. Yeah, that actually could work.

- Hey, Sîl'bûrk help me with this. Sîl'bûrk looked at him in disbelief when he realised what he intended to do. There was no way he was going to get into the water. He would undoubtly drown before they even got off the shore. Even worse, his clothes would become wet. He shivered while picturing the cold water against his thick skin.

After a long arguement that followed, Gra'skâgg managed to make his friend help him. He had to get along with a lot to do this. Sîl'bûrk managed to make a deal; that if he helped Gra'skâgg with the log, he wouldn't have to get wet. So they crossed the river. Gra'skâgg held on to one end of the log and pushed it before him over the water. Sîl'bûrk sat on top of the log and refused to help the other one.

Once on the other side of the river, they silently, well as silently as dwarves can be, walked to the old oak. They decided to look through one of the kitchen windows. As they peeked through the thick solky glass a strange episode was played before their eyes.

An old orc woman stood bent over three younger ones. She cursed at them in a far too rude way to tell about it here. Appearently they younger orcs had kidnapped the hobbit as a gift for Mother's day. They thought a hobbit would be a great gift as a pet for their mother. But as it turned out, she didn't enjoy the gift at all.

Gra'skâgg pondered what he had seen. This could prove to be of benefit for them. But how? As he twisted the idea around in his head a course of action started to form. He stood up and walked over to the kitchen door. He knocked three times. The door swung open. Three bizarre faces looked at him from the inside of the tree.

- What do ye wanna, the oldest asked. He didn't seem to be very amused of the idea that dwarves came around knocking on their door. - I do have an offer to make you, Gra'skâgg replied.
- Eh! Whata would that be eh?
- Well, considering it's Mother's day and all, I wondered if you had bought any gifts yet?
- Why do ye wanna know that, the orc started to get a rather frustrated expression.
- Well, I do happen to have some herbal tea to sell.
- Yeah? What does it cost, all three orcs lightened up a bit. This might be their solution.
- I would like 28 daler and a hobbit for it.

Silence. Gra'skâgg looked at the orcs and they looked at him. What would happen? The orcs turned to one another for what seemed to be ages. And so... they turned towards the dwarf and the oldest orc said...