So that morning, though the great lakes and canals among the reeds were dotted with birds, the lads were patiently watching the cutting of the little drain.
Six men were busy, and making steady progress, for the peat cut easily, the sharp-edged tools going through it like knives, while the leader of the gang busied himself from time to time by thrusting down a sharp-pointed iron rod, which always came in contact with sand and gravel a few feet down.
"No roots, my lad ?" said the squire, coming up.
"No, mester," said the labourer.

"I don't think--well, now, only think of that!" He was thrusting down the iron rod as he spoke, and the point stuck into something that was not sand or gravel, while upon its being thrust down again with more force it stuck fast, and required a heavy jerk to drag it out.
"That seems to be a good one," said the squire, as the lads watched the process with interest.
"Shall we hev it out, mester ?" "Have it out! Oh, yes!" said the squire; and a couple of hours were spent widening the drain at that part, so as to give the men room to work round what was the root of an old tree, just as it had been growing in the far-distant ages, before the peat began to rise over it to nine or ten feet in thickness.
It was a long job, and after the great stump had been laid bare, axes had to be used to divide some of the outlying roots before it was finally dragged out by the whole force that could be collected by the hole, and finally lay upon the side.
"Just like the others, Dick.

There must have been a tremendous fire here at one time." "And burned the whole forest down ?" "Burned the whole of the trees down to the stumps, my lad, and then the peat gradually formed over the roots, and they've lain there till we come and dig them out for firewood." "And they haven't rotted, father, although they have been under the peat and water all this time." "No, my boy; the peat is a preservative.

Nothing seems to decay under the peat.

Why, you ought to have known that by now." "I suppose I ought," said Dick rather dolefully, for he was beginning to wake up to the fact of what an enormous deal there was in the world that he did not know.
As he spoke, he picked up some of the red chips of the pine-root which had been sent flying by the strokes of the axe, to find that they were full of resin, smelling strongly of turpentine.
"Yes, it's full of it," said the squire; "that's one reason why the wood has kept without rotting.