The roots of the thorn bushes and trees constantly impeded it, and had to be cut.

Then upon at last getting down to the hole, it was found that the right place had not been hit by several feet.

Here was the line and the lined ferret--he had got hitched in a projecting root, and was furiously struggling to go forward to the feast of blood.
Another spell of digging--this time still slower because Little John was afraid lest the edge of his tool should suddenly slip through and cut his ferret on the head, and perhaps kill it.

At last the place was reached and the ferret drawn forth still clinging to its victim.

The rabbit was almost beyond recognition as a rabbit.