Patches of white heat glare from the opened furnace doors like the teeth of some great dark, dingy devil grinning across the smoky vapors of the Pit.

Half naked, soot-smeared fellows fight the furnace hearths with hooks, rabbles and paddles.

Their scowling faces are lit with fire, like sailors manning their guns in a night fight when a blazing fire ship is bearing down upon them.

The sweat runs down their backs and arms and glistens in the changing lights.

Brilliant blues and rays of green and bronze come from the coruscating metal, molten yet crystallizing into white-hot frost within the furnace puddle.