"Take your seat with us," says the Fool.
The Drinker sat down with them, and again they flew on, singing in chorus.
They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man walking towards the forest, with a fagot of wood on his shoulders.
"Good-day to you, uncle," says the Fool. "Why are you taking wood to the forest?"
"This isn't simple wood," says the man.
"What is it, then?" says the Fool.
"If it is scattered about, a whole army of soldiers leaps up out of the ground."
"There's a place for you with us," says the Fool.
The man sat down with them, and the ship rose up into the air, and flew on, carrying its singing crew.