ght and day
upon the iron rocks into which he cut steps. Years passed over him,
yet he worked on; but the wall towered up always above him to heaven.
Sometimes he prayed that a little moss or lichen might spring up on
those bare walls to be a companion to him; but it never came." The
stranger watched the boy's face.

"And the years rolled on; he counted them by the steps he had cut--a
few for a year--only a few. He sang no more; he said no more, 'I will do
this or that'--he only worked. And at night, when the twilight settled
down, there looked out at him from the holes and crevices in the rocks
strange wild faces.

"'Stop your work, you lonely man, and speak to us,' they cried.

"'My salvation is in work, if I should stop but for one moment you
would creep down upon me,' he replied. And they put out their long necks
further.

"'Look down into the crevice at your feet,' they said. 'See what lie
there--white bones! As brave and strong a man as you climbed to these
rocks.' And he looked up. He saw there was no use in striving; he would
never hold Truth, never see her, never find her. So he lay down here,
for he was very tired. He went to sleep forever. He put himself to
sleep. Sleep is very tranquil. You are not lonely when you are asleep,
neither do your hands ache, nor your heart. And the hunter laughed
between his teeth.

"'Have I torn from my heart all that was dearest; have I wandered alone
in the land of night; have I resisted temptation; have I dwelt where the
voice of my kind is never heard, and laboured alone, to lie down and be
food for you, ye harpies?'

"He laughed fiercely; and the Echoes of Despair slunk away, for the
laugh of a brave, strong heart is as a death blow to them.

"Nevertheless they crept out again and looked at him.

"'Do you know that your hair is white?' they said, 'that your hands
begin to tremble like a child's? Do you see that the point of your
shuttle is gone?--it is cracked already. If you should ever climb this
stair,' they said, 'it will be your last. You will never climb another.'

"And he answered, 'I know it!' and worked on.

"The old, thin hands cut the stones ill and jaggedly, for the fingers
were stiff and bent. The beauty and the strength of the man was gone.

"At last, an old, wizened, shrunken face looked out above the rocks. It
saw the eternal mountains rise with walls to the white clouds; but its
work was done.

"The old hunter folded his tired hands and lay d