go out again; we forgot to put down the rug first." Aunt Amy was
making short dashes between the kitchen and the dining room, muttering
to herself. And Beckie was roaring in her crib because it was time for
her bottle. David asked, "Can I do anything?"--hoping that the answer
would be no.

"C'mere," Aunt Amy said, grabbing him by the arm. "Help me look for
that ironing board."

When the ironing board was finally located, Mother had something for
him to do. And when he was finished with that, Dad called for his
help. So the afternoon wore on without letup--and also without any
signs of progress in their moving. When David finally got a chance to
sneak out for a breathing spell, he felt his heart sink. Somehow, in
all the rush and confusion, the afternoon had disappeared. Already the
evening sun was throwing shadows across the side of the mountain and
touching its peak with a ruddy blaze. It was too late now. He would
have to wait until morning before he could climb.

As he gazed up miserably at the glowing summit, he thought he saw a
tiny speck soar out from it in a brief circle. Was it a bird of some
sort, or just one of those dots that swim before your eyes when you
stare too long at the sky? It almost seemed like the mountain waving
its hand, as if to say that it was quite all right for him to wait
until morning. He felt better then, and returned more cheerfully to
the moving.

It was long after dark before the moving van drove away. Beckie
crooned happily over her bottle, and the rest of them gathered in the
kitchen for a late supper of sandwiches and canned soup. But David
could not eat until he had found the courage to ask one question:

"May I climb the mountain tomorrow?"

Aunt Amy muttered something about landslides, which were firmly fixed
in her mind as the fate of people who climbed mountains. But Dad said,
"I don't see why not, do you?" and looked to Mother for agreement.

Mother said, "Well ... be very careful," in a doubtful tone, and that
was that.

* * * * *

You never know what you will find when you climb a mountain, even if
you have climbed them before--which, of course, David never had.
Looking up from the foot of the mountain, he had thought that it was a
smooth slope from bottom to top. But he was discovering as he climbed
that it was not smooth at all, but very much broken up. There were
terraces, ledges, knolls, ravines, and embankments, one after
anothe