Search

The man was climbing Nameless Hill, on the bank of the Halhala River. It wasn’t particularly high—more like a dwarf among hills, really—but even so, climbing it was hard work, and he was panting. From the corner of his eye he glimpsed drops of his sweat falling into the thick grass and immediately evaporating. Several times on his journey he had felt so discouraged that he would have liked to have given the whole thing up, but he couldn’t quite make himself do it, so he struggled on, swearing...