"From the Hohentwiel?" asked Ekkehard.
"We belong to the Duchess, but we live yonder on the Hohenhöwen; where you can see the smoke rise from the charcoal-pile."
"Good," said Ekkehard. "You are to cut down this oak for me."
The men looked at him. Embarrassment was visible in their faces.
"Begin at once, and make haste, for before nightfall, the tree must be felled to the ground."
Then the two men walked up to the oak. With gaping mouths they stood before the magnificent tree. One of them let his axe fall.
"Don't you know the spot, Chomuli?" quoth he to his companion.
"How should I know it, Woveli?"
The former pointed towards the east, and lifting one of his hands to his mouth, imitated the act of drinking. "On account of that, Chomuli."
Then the other looked downhill where Ekkehard was standing, and winking cunningly with one eye, said: "We know nothing, Woveli."