The end of the willow rod with its tuft of leaves.
“Oh!” he ejaculated, as the tug he gave at the wand was replied to by another at the end; and as he looked, he saw that it came from out of a dense mass of twiggy alder above his head, where a quantity of ivy grew.
“Scar,” he cried, giving the wand a shake, “are you there?”
“Yes,” came in a faint whisper that sounded very hollow and strange. “Didn’t you hear me shout!”
“No.”
“I was afraid to cry too loud, because it goes backward so, rumbling all along the passage. Whereabouts is it?”
“By the big birch-tree; just where we thought it couldn’t be.”
“Eh? Speak up.”
“By the big birch-tree; just where we thought it couldn’t be; and I can’t speak louder, because Nat’s over the other side, watching.”
“Can he see you now?”