Some way on in spring came engineers and workmen from Sweden; going to build roads, put up hutments, work in various ways, blasting, levelling, getting up supplies of food, hiring teams of horses, making arrangements with owners of land by the waterside; what—­what was it all about?  This is in the wilds, where folk never came but those who lived there?  Well, they were going to start that copper mine, that was all.

So it had come to something after all; Geissler had not been merely boasting.

It was not the same big men that had come with him that time—­no, the two of them had stayed behind, having business elsewhere, no doubt.  But the same engineer was there, and the mining expert that had come at first.  They bought up all the sawn planks Isak could spare, bought food and drink and paid for it well, chatted in kindly fashion and were pleased with Sellanraa.  “Aerial railway,” they said.  “Cable haulage from the top of the fjeld down to the waterside,” they said.

“What, down over all this moorland here?” said Isak, being slow to think.  But they laughed at that.

“No, on the other side, man; not this way, ’twould be miles to go.  No, on the other side of the fjeld, straight down to the sea; a good fall, and no distance to speak of.  Run the ore down through the air in iron tanks; oh, it’ll work all right, you wait and see.  But we’ll have to cart it down at first; make a road, and have it hauled down in carts.  We shall want fifty horses—­you see, we’ll get on finely.  And we’ve more men on the works than these few here—­that’s nothing.  There’s more coming up from the other side, gangs of men, with huts all ready to put up, and stores of provisions and material and tools and things—­then we meet and make connection with them half-way, on the top, you see?  We’ll make the thing go, never fear—­and ship the ore to South America.  There’s millions to be made out of it.”

“What about the other gentlemen,” asked Isak, “that came up here before?”

“What?  Oh, they’ve sold out.  So you remember them?  No, they’ve sold.  And the people that bought them out have sold again.  It’s a big company now that owns the mine—­any amount of money behind it.”

“And Geissler, where’ll he be now?” asks Isak.

“Geissler?  Never heard of him.  Who’s he?”

“Lensmand Geissler, that sold you the place first of all.”

“Oh, him!  Geissler was his name?  Heaven knows where he is now.  So you remember him too?”

* * * * *

Blasting and working up in the hills, gangs of men at work all through the summer—­there was plenty doing about the place.  Inger did a busy trade in milk and farm produce, and it amused her—­going into business, as it were, and seeing all the many folk coming and going.  Isak tramped about with his lumbering tread, and worked on his land; nothing disturbed him.  Sivert and the two stoneworkers got the new cowshed up.  It was a fine building, but took a deal of time before it was finished, with only three men to the work, and Sivert, moreover, often called away to help in the fields.  The mowing-machine was useful now; and a good thing, too, to have three active women that could take a turn at the haymaking.