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第23章找到另一座山TheLastHill（2）
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Onsultryafterheairquiveredinthedfadinglightofearlyeveaheoldoakandlookoutainterludeofsdsfromwhichseveralmilesaway，ahillemerged.Asahillitwasinsignifiough.Belowitsbaresummitaurelaydottedwithgrougsofgrahingaboutthathilldrewme，bee，ailes.Iotbeartotakemyeyesfromit;Ikhatbeforesummeregotoit，makemywayoverthepasture，upanduppastshrubailIstoodo.ItwassomethingIhadtodo.Iotexplainwhy.Ididnotevenaskmyself.
Notthatitwaseasytogetawayfromingandafternoon，ouractivitieswerereaselor’snotebook.Wehadtobeswimmingtennisorbaseballatratoffonnaturewalkssomegadgetiryshop-justsolongaswedidsomething.Buttodonothing，toclimbahillforwasoutsidetherules，againstthe“campspirit”
。
Saturdayafternoons，withtheirinfluxofparentsandvisithtarelaxation，lessatability.Ononesudvividafternooogettomyhill.Fromthegreatoak，Icouldseeitssummitaheadofme，unknown，inviting.Inspicuously，Iedgedalongthebaseballfield，theheunderbrush.
Itwashardgoing，hardtokeepasenseofdiresugleofvihicket.Istumbleds，steppedintoanthills.Marshhillocksgavewayu，deadbranaggedme，pricklyseedsworkedisheairwasstagnant.Withmosquitandhover-fliesganddarting，Iploddedon，losingmyselfandlosingtrae.
Imusthavebeenstrugglingonforatleastanhour.Sudde，anopengroveofashahesunlightfilteredthroughtheleaves.Isawinfroeroforivehhtlypaintediyofedwithscrollsandscallopedshihnarrow，high-pitchedroofs，eaorethanahfromthe，ay.Therewasnosignofanylivingbeing.
Tfromthewood，thesunlitgrovewaslikesomethingoutofGrimm，asifthisoddlittlevillagehadbeenputunderaspellandhadbeenasleepfor100years.Ayellowhouseinfrohablue-lattitporchcouldhavebeenwaitingforHanselael.Soquietthegrovewas，sostilltheair，thateventheaspenleaveshunglimp.Blueandgreendragonflies，poisedintheair，addedtothee.Faroff，Icouldheartheichofayellowwarblerandalobuzz.Otherwisesilence.
&upontheporchofapinktrimmedhouseahroughthesinglerosaiough-aroomleofchairs，atable，acoup.Aladderledupstairstoasleepingloft.Thegrovewasamystery.WhywerethoselittlehousesthereWhyweretheyemptyahesametimecaredforWhoowwaseerietoseetheseminiatureshuddledtainstallthatspace.IhalfexpeeguardiantoutaIwasdoingthere.
Isupposemyentedvillagewassomesortofcampmeetingground，usedafewweekseachsummer.Ineverdidfindout.OnthatafternoonIdidhesun’srayswerealreadyslanting，theshadowslonger，andmyhillstilllayaheadofme.Agaiheunderbrush，breakingthroughatlasttoaruttedroadscoredwithpuddles.Butatthefirstturhefootofthehill，myhill，openahelengthenedsuhinmeadowgrasshadturnedbrowhatohepasturehadfallenapart，aymulleihrustiheboulders.UpIwent，raniteledgeandaeaddownhardhadmeadowsweetinmyhurrytogettothetop.
Atlast，uhesky’sbowl，Istoodatthecrestbreathless，thehillsolid，tangibleueelusiveianowIwasthere.YetevenasIreachedmygoal，itbegantoslipawayfrhtahead，beyondmoremilesofwoodland，Icouldseeanotherhill，somewhathigher，somewhatlrazingplaitsclearedslopeasummithihgreen.Mysterious，fullofpromise，itwasahillIshould，inmyoldlonging，thatishedImightbe，onthatfartherhill.ButevenasIlookedatit.Isebeyondtherewouldbeanotherhill，ayeta.Battie，beyohemiles.Evegoingrouherewouldalwaysbeanotherhill.Ahen，suddenlyahatoneeverreachthelasthill.
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