In absolute silence he walked on.

He was very silent now.

In those high regions the rarefied air is hard to breathe by those born in the valleys; every breath he drew hurt him, and the blood oozed out from the tips of his fingers.
Before the next wall of rock he began to work.

The height of this seemed infinite, and he said nothing.

The sound of his tool rang night and day upon the iron rocks into which he cut steps.