They were up to their arm-pits now, and Jane was up to her chin.
'Look!' said the Phoenix.

'What are they pointing at ?' The children turned; and there, a little to the west was a head--a head they knew, with a crooked cap upon it.

It was the head of the cook.
For some reason or other the savages had stopped at the water's edge and were all talking at the top of their voices, and all were pointing copper-coloured fingers, stiff with interest and excitement, at the head of the cook.
The children hurried towards her as quickly as the water would let them.
'What on earth did you come out here for ?' Robert shouted; 'and where on earth's the carpet ?' 'It's not on earth, bless you,' replied the cook, happily; 'it's UNDER ME--in the water.

I got a bit warm setting there in the sun, and I just says, "I wish I was in a cold bath"-- just like that--and next minute here I was! It's all part of the dream.' Every one at once saw how extremely fortunate it was that the carpet had had the sense to take the cook to the nearest and largest bath--the sea, and how terrible it would have been if the carpet had taken itself and her to the stuffy little bath-room of the house in Camden Town! 'Excuse me,' said the Phoenix's soft voice, breaking in on the general sigh of relief, 'but I think these brown people want your cook.' 'To--to eat ?' whispered Jane, as well as she could through the water which the plunging Lamb was dashing in her face with happy fat hands and feet.
'Hardly,' rejoined the bird.

'Who wants cooks to EAT?
Cooks are ENGAGED, not eaten.