When he stopped to unhook the chain, three or four men came up with cant-poles, and struggling in the churned-up mire, rolled the log to the top of the incline.
A shallow, undulating trough scored the hillside, crossed at short intervals by small logs, split up the middle and laid with their round sides on top.

It looked something like a switchback railway, only that while the incline varied, all the undulations ran down hill.

A few logs rested insecurely on the top skids, and the men put the one Festing had brought below the rest.

Then they threw down their poles and Festing looked about.
Water filled the hollows in the wavy line of skids, which vanished at the edge of a steeper dip and reappeared below, to plunge out of sight again.

Its end was banked up with wet gravel near the track.