Throughout the entire length and breadth of the parish only one man was seen at work. That man was Hök Matts Ericsson. Nor was he mowing grass-that he regarded as only child's play. He was clearing away stones from his land, just as he had done in his youth, when preparing his newly acquired acres for cultivation.
Gabriel, as he drove along, could see his father from the road. Hök Matts was out in the grove prying up stones with his crowbar, and piling them on to a stone hedge. He never once looked up from his work, but went right on digging and lugging stones, some of which were so big that Gabriel thought they were enough to break his back—and afterward throwing them up on to the hedge with a force that caused them to splinter, and made sparks fly. Gabriel, who was driving one of the goods wagons, let his horse look out for itself for a long time while his eyes were turned toward his father.
Old Hök Matts worked on' and on, toiling and slaving exactly as he had done when his son was a little lad, and he strove to develop his property. Grief had taken a firm hold on Hök Matts; yet he went on digging and prying up larger and larger stones, and piling them on the hedge.
Soon after the procession had passed, a violent thunderstorm came up. Everybody ran for cover, and Hök Matts, too, thought of doing the same; then he changed his mind. He dared not leave off working.
At noon his daughter came to the door and called to him to come to dinner. Hök Matts was not very hungry; still, he felt that he might need a bite to eat. He did not go in, however, for he was afraid to stop his work.
His wife had gone with Gabriel to the railway station. On her return, late in the evening, she stopped to tell her husband that now their son had gone, but he would not leave off an instant to hear what she had to say.
The neighbours noticed how Hök Matts worked that day. They came out to watch him, and after looking on a while, they went in and reported that he was still there, that he had been at it the whole day without a break.
Evening came, but the light lingered a while, and Hök Matts kept right on working. He felt that if he were to leave off while still able to drag a foot, his grief would overpower him.
By and by his wife came back again, and stood watching him. The grove was now almost clear of stones, and the hedge quite high enough, but still the little old man went on lugging stones that were more fit for a giant to handle. Now and then a neighbour would come over to see if he was still at it; but no one spoke to him.
Then darkness fell. They could no longer see him, but they could hear him—could hear the dull thud of stone against stone as he went on building the wall.