In early November of 1942, my geology（地质学）class was supposed to go on a field trip to see the mica mine（云母矿）. Although it rained, everyone showed up on time. I was the only girl in the class. We all fit into two cars.
Near Deary, Mr. Tier, our teacher, went into a store to ask about the direction, while townsmen looked at us with curiosity. On the store owner's advice, we drove out into the hills for a few miles. Then we left the cars. We were afraid they would get stuck in the mud.
Eventually, we located the mine near the top of the mountain. There was a very small hole, running about two or three hundred feet into the mountainside. The passage（通道）was so narrow that we could touch both sides with our hands, and not tall enough to allow us to stand up straight. The first boy held the torch; we took hold of the backs of each other's coats, in a line, and followed him in, ducking our heads. After getting in, we were disappointed because it was not the mine our teacher was looking for.
The rain was coming down hard as we started back to the cars to go home. Back at Deary, we went into a drugstore and stood around its big heating stove to dry out. The clerk was a middle-aged lady. Seeing our entirely wet hair and clothes, she handed each of us a cup of hot water immediately and asked if there was anything wrong with any of us.
Hiking eight miles in the rain had not reduced our interest at all. We all felt we had a wonderful time, even if we didn't find the mine.
