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. Tas was enormously amused and
strolled among the pondering gully dwarves.
Gisella stood over the human with her arms folded expectantly.
"Well?"
After a minute or two, Woodrow tossed his head back and looked
up at Gisella. "Ma'am, I figure we'll need the pulleys there in the
tree, at least four thousand feet of rope, and for muscle, the team of
horses -- plus about a dozen good men. But that's just a guess," he
added modestly.
Looking somber, the gully dwarves all nodded their heads in
agreement, pointing at each others' scratchings and chattering among
themselves.
Gisella threw her arms into the air. "Well, I guess that's that.
We don't have a dozen good anything, and we certainly don't have four
thousand feet of rope. If I didn't have so many steel pieces tied up
in those rotting melons, I'd push the wagon off the cliff myself and
smash that lousy boat into splinters." She flopped down on the ledge
where she stood, her chin in her hands.
Tasslehoff skipped back to the sullen Gisella. "As far as muscle
is concerned," he said, "we've got all the gully dwarves we could ever
want."
"And how many is that?" Gisella quipped. "Two?"
"I know they're not much to look at and they don't smell very
nice, but I'm sure they'd be willing to help," prodded Tas. "After
all, this was Fondu's idea."
Fondu grinned broadly. "We glad to heave-ho. Heave-hoing fun! We
heave-ho lots for funny men. 'Heeeeave ho'," he mimicked, drawing on
an imaginary rope
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