At last， under the sky’ s bowl， I stood at the crest breathless， the hill solid， tangible under my feet. So often I had seen it elusive in the distance. Now I was there. Yet even as I reached my goal， it began to slip away from me. Straight ahead， beyond more miles of woodland， I could see another hill， somewhat higher， somewhat longer， cows grazing placidly on its cleared slope a summit hinged with green. Mysterious， full of promise， it was a hill I should never reach. Yet， in my old longing， that was where I wished I might be， on that farther hill. But even as I looked at it. I sensed that beyond there would be another hill， and beyond that yet another， beyond Mt. Battie， beyond Maine， beyond the miles. Even if I kept going round the world there would always be another hill. And I knew then， suddenly and overwhelmingly， that one could never reach the last hill.
缅因州北部的秋天，景色迷人。当黄昏降临的时候，晴朗的天空飘着的云朵为大地投下片片浓阴，仿佛夏天还没有过去。缅因州位于沃尔多博拉以西12英里，在12岁到14岁的3年时间里，我每年都去那里度假，因为那里有几个以印第安语命名的男童夏令营。然而，我现在已经不愿常常回忆那些久远的往事了。
我站在曾经是棒球场的土丘上，它的右方是一片百年橡树林，我们曾常常在这片树林的附近举办篝火晚会。在酷热的8月，我曾多少次站在这座土丘上，遥望葱郁树林后面的康登山脉！那大片的原野一直伸向地平线轮廓清晰的巴蒂山，中途穿过小山和树林，好似18世纪时形象鲜明的铜版画。日暮时分，轮廓变得模糊的巴蒂山笼罩在一片蓝色的暮霭之中时，我们就围在老橡树四周举办篝火晚会。
许多年后，棒球场四周较远的地方又长出了许多高矮不等的白杨树、白桦树，还有长着斑点的桤木，这片树林挡住了视野，曾经种在那里的树木早已被砍伐了。在这片透明的天空下，我们现在已经看不见什么，除了那些参差不齐的树冠。巴蒂山已经消失在远方，天空也披上了一层寒冷的色彩。