The Second Book of Lankhmar

the pile of dug dirt was higher and wider and Fren walked a strange short sentry-go, stepping on the forward edge of the big forge-bellows next the pit edge, mounting its slant in three short steps (which made it sink), giving its top handle an upward yank after stepping off it (which helped an interior spring expand it again), drawing in air, and so back to the pit edge and repeat the mini-march.
           Peering down the shaft from the opposite edge of the hole, the three females saw how the first furry snow-white serpent's hide emerged from the bellow's front and curved downward, its crested head clamping its jaws on the tail of the second, and so on downward until the fifth entered the cross corridor at the shaft's bottom, where two leviathan lamps provided illumination.
           They could see the furry tube slacken and swell as each successive giant's breath of fresh air traveled down.
           Afreyt explained to the girls, "Each tail tip is clipped off short and thrust inside the jaws of the preceding snow serpent, a clear glue making the juncture airtight. Spirits of wine dissolve this, so the hides may be parted, cleaned, and restored (the tail tips are kept) to something like their original value afterward. Else all would be monstrously unthrifty." And with a sign to the windlass man and a "You next" to the girls, she stepped into the empty pail and traveled down beside the slowly pulsating, furry white tube, stepped out at the bottom and waited until it returned with Fingers and Gale.
           The horizontal passage was a dimly lit, stone-floored, narrow, unlofty rectangle, so that Afreyt must stoop as she led the way, although the girls were able to walk upright as they followed.
           "I expected it to be warmer underground," Gale observed.
           "The dragon's breath we're blowing down is chill," the older woman reminded her. "Look, there's a fortune in wood around us," she told the girls.
           "A hero's life is worth any expenditure," Fingers assured her somewhat loftily.
           "So it behooves those who may have to ransom or rescue them to lay up cash," Afreyt responded. "Luckily the lumber's all salvageable, like the hides."
           Just ahead appeared to be solid rock, and seemingly from it, but actually from around it, there materialized a short man carrying a full pail before him and another behind. It was the Mouser's other lieutenant, Mikkidu. They managed to squeeze past him and then along a short section of corridor where the left wall was stone, the right wood, until it had jogged past the obstruction into bright light, which showed their journey's end eight yards ahead.
           From the ceiling's last short crossboard hung a large leviathan lamp, while beneath the as yet unroofed yard of tunnel, Cif knelt away from them and worked at the naked face with wooden trowel and gloved left hand, scraping and brushing away the stuff that was of a consistency between flaky sandstone and packed sand. While supported by an upslanted peg in the right-hand wall, the last snow-serpent puffed chill gusts that stirred the falling dust and fine debris.
           So great was the small woman's concentration on her exacting task that she was unaware of their presence until Afreyt touched her shoulder.
           She turned on them a blank stare, swiftly rising to her feet. Then her eyes wavered and she lurched forward into her friend's arms.
           "You're out on your feet," Afreyt protested. "You should have been relieved at the face hours ago! Here, take a swallow of this," she added, withdrawing a silver flask from her pouch and uncorking it with her teeth while continuing to support Cif with her other arm.
           The outwearied woman grasped it and gulped the watered brandy greedily.
           "Have you had any rest at all since coming out this noon?" Afreyt demanded.
           "I lay in the tent awhile, but it made me nervous."
           "So you're coming up at once with me. There's a new matter we must discuss alone. Gale! Take over here at the face. Fingers can help you — it's a sort of work her deft hands should be good at."
           "Oh good!" said Gale.
           Fingers: "You honor me."
           Cif made no demur, accepting support but asking, "What new matter?"
           "All in good time."
           Just past the jog they encountered Mikkidu returning with empty pails. Afreyt