There was still a heap, but it wasn't rock any more.
'There's a, wait for it, there's a bit of a squash in here,' said Nanny.
Magrat opened her eyes wider.
'Still pumpkins?'
'Bit of a squash. Squash,' said Nanny, in case anyone hadn't got it.
The top of the heap moved. A couple of small pumpkins rolled down almost to Magrat's feet, and a small dwarfish face appeared in the hole.
It stared down at the witches.
Eventually Nanny Ogg said, 'Everything all right?'
The dwarf nodded. Its attention kept turning to the pile of pumpkins that filled the tunnel from floor to ceiling.
'Er, yes,' it said. 'Is dad there?'
'Dad?'
"The King.'
'Oh.' Nanny Ogg cupped her hands around her mouth and turned to face up the tunnel. 'Hey, King!'
The dwarfs appeared. They looked at the pumpkins, too. The King stepped forward and stared up into the face of his son.
'Everything all right, son?'
'It's all right, dad. No faulting or anything.'
' she said.
A few snow crystals landed on her hat.
'Well, well,' she said.
'What're you doing, Granny?' said Magrat.
'Cogitatin'.'
Granny walked to the valley's steep side and strolled along it, peering at the rock. Nanny Ogg joined her.
'Up here?' said Nanny.
'I reckon.'
' 'S a bit high for 'em, ain't it?'
'Little devils get everywhere. Had one come up in my kitchen once,' said Granny.' “Following a seam”, he said.'
'They're buggers for that,' said Nanny.
'Would you mind telling me,' said Magrat, 'what you're doing? What's so interesting about heaps of stones?'
The snow was falling faster now.
'They ain't stones, they're spoil,' said Granny. She reached a flat wall of ice-covered rock, no different in Magrat's eyes from the rock available in a range of easy-to-die-on sizes everywhere in the mountains, and paused as if listening.