'They've just sent for me,' Cattiwow answered. 'There's a middlin' big log sticked in the dirt at Rabbit Shaw, and'--he flicked his whip back along the line--'so they've sent for us all.' Dan and Una threw themselves off the woodlump almost under black Sailor's nose. Cattiwow never let them ride the big beam that makes the body of the timber-tug, but they hung on behind while their teeth thuttered. The wood road beyond the brook climbs at once into the woods, and you see all the horses' backs rising, one above another, like moving stairs. Cattiwow strode ahead in his sackcloth woodman's petticoat, belted at the waist with a leather strap; and when he turned and grinned, his red lips showed under his sackcloth-coloured beard. His cap was sackcloth too, with a flap behind, to keep twigs and bark out of his neck. He navigated the tug among pools of heather-water that splashed in their faces, and through clumps of young birches that slashed at their legs, and when they hit an old toadstooled stump, they never knew whether it would give way in showers of rotten wood, or jar them back again. At the top of Rabbit Shaw half-a-dozen men and a team of horses stood round a forty-foot oak log in a muddy hollow. The ground about was poached and stoached with sliding hoof-marks, and a wave of dirt was driven up in front of the butt. 'What did you want to bury her for this way?' said Cattiwow. He took his broad-axe and went up the log tapping it. 'She's sticked fast,' said 'Bunny' Lewknor, who managed the other team. Cattiwow unfastened the five wise horses from the tug. They cocked their ears forward, looked, and shook themselves. 'I believe Sailor knows,' Dan whispered to Una. 'He do,' said a man behind them. He was dressed in flour sacks like the others, and he leaned on his broad-axe, but the children, who knew all the wood gangs, knew he was a stranger. In his size and oily hairiness he might have been Bunny Lewknor's brother, except that his brown eyes were as soft as a spaniel's, and his rounded black beard, beginning close up under them, reminded Una of the walrus in _The Walrus and the Carpenter_. 'Don't he just about know?' he said shyly, and shifted from one foot to the other. 'Yes. "What Cattiwow can't get out of the woods must have roots growing to her"'--Dan had heard old Hobden say this a few days before. At that minute Puck pranced up, picking his way through the pools of black water in the ling. 'Look _out_!' cried Una, jumping forward. 'He'll see you, Puck!' 'Me and Mus' Robin are pretty middlin' well acquainted,' the man answered with a smile that made them forget all about walruses. 'This is Simon Cheyneys,' Puck began, and cleared his throat. 'Shipbuilder of Rye Port; burgess of the said town, and the only----'