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night　at　the　caves。



Here；　in　the　strip　of　forest；　we　might　have　built

tree…shelters　and　settled　down；　but　the　Fire　People

were　performing　their　work　of　extermination　thoroughly。

In　the　afternoon；　Hair…Face　and　his　wife　fled　out　from

among　the　trees　to　the　east；　passed　us；　and　were　gone。

They　fled　silently　and　swiftly；　with　alarm　in　their

faces。　　In　the　direction　from　which　they　had　come　we

heard　the　cries　and　yells　of　the　hunters；　and　the

screeching　of　some　one　of　the　Folk。　　The　Fire　People

had　found　their　way　across　the　swamp。



The　Swift　One；　Lop…Ear；　and　I　followed　on　the　heels　of

Hair…Face　and　his　wife。　　When　we　came　to　the　edge　of

the　great　swamp；　we　stopped。　　We　did　not　know　its

paths。　　It　was　outside　our　territory；　and　it　had　been

always　avoided　by　the　Folk。　　None　had　ever　gone　into

itat　least；　to　return。　　In　our　minds　it　represented

mystery　and　fear；　the　terrible　unknown。　　As　I　say；　we

stopped　at　the　edge　of　it。　　We　were　afraid。　　The　cries

of　the　Fire…Men　were　drawing　nearer。　　We　looked　at　one

another。　　Hair…Face　ran　out　on　the　quaking　morass　and

gained　the　firmer　footing　of　a　grass…hummock　a　dozen

yards　away。　　His　wife　did　not　follow。　She　tried　to；　but

shrank　back　from　the　treacherous　surface　and　cowered

down。



The　Swift　One　did　not　wait　for　me；　nor　did　she　pause

till　she　had　passed　beyond　Hair…Face　a　hundred　yards

and　gained　a　much　larger　hummock。　　By　the　time　Lop…Ear

and　I　had　caught　up　with　her；　the　Fire…Men　appeared

among　the　trees。　　Hair…Face's　wife；　driven　by　them　into

panic　terror；　dashed　after　us。　　But　she　ran　blindly；

without　caution；　and　broke　through　the　crust。　　We

turned　and　watched；　and　saw　them　shoot　her　with　arrows

as　she　sank　down　in　the　mud。　　The　arrows　began　falling

about　us。　　Hair…Face　had　now　joined　us；　and　the　four　of

us　plunged　on；　we　knew　not　whither；　deeper　and　deeper

into　the　swamp。







CHAPTER　XVIII





Of　our　wanderings　in　the　great　swamp　I　have　no　clear

knowledge。　When　I　strive　to　remember；　I　have　a　riot　of

unrelated　impressions　and　a　loss　of　time…value。　　I　have

no　idea　of　how　long　we　were　in　that　vast　everglade；　but

it　must　have　been　for　weeks。　　My　memories　of　what

occurred　invariably　take　the　form　of　nightmare。　　For

untold　ages；　oppressed　by　protean　fear；　I　am　aware　of

wandering；　endlessly　wandering；　through　a　dank　and

soggy　wilderness；　where　poisonous　snakes　struck　at　us；

and　animals　roared　around　us；　and　the　mud　quaked　under

us　and　sucked　at　our　heels。



I　know　that　we　were　turned　from　our　course　countless

times　by　streams　and　lakes　and　slimy　seas。　　Then　there

were　storms　and　risings　of　the　water　over　great　areas

of　the　low…lying　lands；　and　there　were　periods　of

hunger　and　misery　when　we　were　kept　prisoners　in　the

trees　for　days　and　days　by　these　transient　floods。



Very　strong　upon　me　is　one　picture。　　Large　trees　are

about　us；　and　from　their　branches　hang　gray　filaments

of　moss；　while　great　creepers；　like　monstrous　serpents；

curl　around　the　trunks　and　writhe　in　tangles　through

the　air。　　And　all　about　is　the　mud；　soft　mud；　that

bubbles　forth　gases；　and　that　heaves　and　sighs　with

internal　agitations。　　And　in　the　midst　of　all　this　are

a　dozen　of　us。　　We　are　lean　and　wretched；　and　our　bones

show　through　our　tight…stretched　skins。　　We　do　not　sing

and　chatter　and　laugh。　　We　play　no　pranks。　　For　once

our　volatile　and　exuberant　spirits　are　hopelessly

subdued。　　We　make　plaintive；　querulous　noises；　look　at

one　another；　and　cluster　close　together。　　It　is　like

the　meeting　of　the　handful　of　survivors　after　the　day

of　the　end　of　the　world。



This　event　is　without　connection　with　the　other　events

in　the　swamp。　　How　we　ever　managed　to　cross　it；　I　do

not　know；　but　at　last　we　came　out　where　a　low　range　of

hills　ran　down　to　the　bank　of　the　river。　　It　was　our

river　emerging　like　ourselves　from　the　great　swamp。　　On

the　south　bank；　where　the　river　had　broken　its　way

through　the　hills；　we　found　many　sand…stone　caves。

Beyond；　toward　the　west；　the　ocean　boomed　on　the　bar

that　lay　across　the　river's　mouth。　　And　here；　in　the

caves；　we　settled　down　in　our　abiding…place　by　the　sea。



There　were　not　many　of　us。　　From　time　to　time；　as　the

days　went　by；　more　of　the　Folk　appeared。　　They　dragged

themselves　from　the　swamp　singly；　and　in　twos　and

threes；　more　dead　than　alive；　mere　perambulating

skeletons；　until　at　last　there　were　thirty　of　us。　Then

no　more　came　from　the　swamp；　and　Red…Eye　was　not　among

us。　It　was　noticeable　that　no　children　had　survived　the

frightful　journey。



I　shall　not　tell　in　detail　of　the　years　we　lived　by　the

sea。　　It　was　not　a　happy　abiding…place。　　The　air　was

raw　and　chill；　and　we　suffered　continually　from

coughing　and　colds。　　We　could　not　survive　in　such　an

environment。　　True；　we　had　children；　but　they　had

little　hold　on　life　and　died　early；　while　we　died

faster　than　new　ones　were　born。　　Our　number　steadily

diminished。



Then　the　radical　change　in　our　diet　was　not　good　for

us。　　We　got　few　vegetables　and　fruits；　and　became

fish…eaters。　　There　were　mussels　and　abalones　and　clams

and　rock…oysters；　and　great　ocean…crabs　that　were

thrown　upon　the　beaches　in　stormy　weather。　　Also；　we

found　several　kinds　of　seaweed　that　were　good　to　eat。

But　the　change　in　diet　caused　us　stomach　troubles；　and

none　of　us　ever　waxed　fat。　　We　were　all　lean　and

dyspeptic…looking。　　It　was　in　getting　the　big　abalones

that　Lop…Ear　was　lost。　　One　of　them　closed　upon　his

fingers　at　low…tide；　and　then　the　flood…tide　came　in

and　drowned　him。　　We　found　his　body　the　next　day；　and

it　was　a　lesson　to　us。　Not　another　one　of　us　was　ever

caught　in　the　closing　shell　of　an　abalone。



The　Swift　One　and　I　managed　to　bring　up　one　child；　a

boyat　least　we　managed　to　bring　him　along　for　several

years。　　But　I　am　quite　confident　he　could　never　have

survived　that　terrible　climate。　　And　then；　one　day；　the

Fire　People　appeared　again。　　They　had　come　down　the

river；　not　on　a　catamaran；　but　in　a　rude　dug…out。

There　were　three　of　them　that　paddled　in　it；　and　one　of

them　was　the　little　wizened　old　hunter。　　They　landed　on

our　beach；　and　he　limped　across　the　sand　and　examined

our　caves。



They　went　away　in　a　few　minutes；　but　the　Swift　One　was

badly　scared。　　We　were　all　frightened；　but　none　of　us

to　the　extent　that　she　was。　　She　whimpered　and　cried

and　was　restless　all　that　night。　In　the　morning　she

took　the　child　in　her　arms；　and　by　sharp　cries；

gestures；　and　example；　started　me　on　our　second　long

flight。　There　were　eight　of　the　Folk　（all　that　was　left

of　the　horde）　that　remained　behind　in　the　caves。　　There

was　no　hope　for　them。　Without　doubt；　even　if　the　Fire

People　did　not　return；　they　must　soon　have　perished。

It　was　a　bad　climate　down　there　by　the　sea。　　The　Folk

were　not　constituted　for　the　coast…dwelling　life。



We　travelled　south；　for　days　skirting　the　great　swamp

but　never　venturing　into　it。　　Once　we　broke　back　to　the

westward；　crossing　a　range　of　mountains　and　coming　down

to　the　coast。　　But　it　was　no　place　for　us。　　There　were

no　treesonly　bleak　headlands；　a　thundering　surf；　and

strong　winds　that　seemed　never　to　cease　from　blowing。

We　turned　back　across　the　mountains；　travelling　east

and　south；　until　we　came　in　touch　with　the　great　swamp

again。



Soon　we　gained　the　southern　extremity　of　the　swamp；　and

we　continued　our　course　south　and　east。　　It　was　a

pleasant　land。　　The　air　was　warm；　and　we　were　again　in

the　forest。　　Later　on　we　crossed　a　low…lying　range　of

hills　and　found　ourselves　in　an　even　better　forest

country。　　The　farther　we　penetrated　from　the　coast　the

warmer　we　found　it；　and　we　went　on　and　on　until　we　came

to　a　large　river　that　seemed　familiar　to　the　Swift　One。

It　was　where　she　must　have　come　during　the　four　years'

absence　from　the　harde。　This　river　we　crossed　on　logs；

landing　on　side　at　the　large　bluff。　High　up　on　the

bluff　we　found　our　new　home　most　difficult　of　access

and　quite　hidden　from　any　eye　beneath。



There　is　little　more　of　my　tale　to　tell。　　Here　the

Swift　One　and　I　lived　and　reared　our　family。　　And　here

my　memories　end。　　We　never　made　another　migration。　　I

never　dream　beyond　our　high；　inaccessible　cave。　　And

here　must　have　been　born　the　child　that　inherited　the

stuff　of　my　dreams；　that　had　moulded　into　its　being　all

the　impressions　of　my　lifeor　of　the　life　of

Big…Tooth；　rather；　who　is　my　other…self；　and　not　my

real　self；　but　who　is　so　real　to　me　that　often　I　am

unable　to　tell　what　age　I　am　living　in。



I　often　wonder　about　this　line　of　descent。　　I；　the

modern；　am　incontestably　a　man；　yet　I；　Big…Tooth；　the

primitive；　am　not　a　man。　　Somewhere；　and　by　straight

line　of　descent；　these　two　parties　to　my　dual

personality　were　connected。　　Were　the　Folk；　before

their　destruction；　in　the　process　of　becoming　men？　And

did　I　and　mine　carry　through　this　process？　On　the　other

hand；　may　not　some　descendant　of　mine　have　gone　in　to

the　Fire　People　and　become　one　of　them？　I　do　not　know。

There　is　no　way　of　learning。　　One　thing　only　is

certain；　and　that　is　that　Big…Tooth　did　stamp　into　the

cerebral　constitution　of　one　of　his　progeny　all　the

impressions　of　his　life；　and　stamped　them　in　so

indelibly　that　the　hosts　of　intervening　generations

have　failed　to　obliterate　them。



There　is　one　other　thing　of　which　I　must　speak　before　I

close。　　It　is　a　dream　that　I　dream　often；　and　in　point

of　time　the　real　event　must　have　occurred　during　the

period　of　my　living　in　the　high；　inaccessible　cave。　I

remember　that　I　wandered　far　in　the　forest　toward　the

east。　　There　I　came　upon　a　tribe　of　Tree　People。　　I

crouched　in　a　thicket　and　watched　them　at　play。　　They

were　holding　a　laughing　council；　jumping　up　and　down

and　screeching　rude　choruses。



Suddenly　they　hushed　their　noise　and　ceased　their

capering。　　They　shrank　down　in　fear；　and　quested

anxiously　about　with　their　eyes　f