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into　my　dreams。　　In　the　first　place；　I　have　never　been

a　zealous　student。　　I　graduated　last　of　my　class。　　I

cared　more　for　athletics；　andthere　is　no　reason　I

should　not　confess　itmore　for　billiards。



Further；　I　had　no　knowledge　of　evolution　until　I　was　at

college；　whereas　in　my　childhood　and　youth　I　had

already　lived　in　my　dreams　all　the　details　of　that

other；　long…ago　life。　　I　will　say；　however；　that　these

details　were　mixed　and　incoherent　until　I　came　to　know

the　science　of　evolution。　　Evolution　was　the　key。　　It

gave　the　explanation；　gave　sanity　to　the　pranks　of　this

atavistic　brain　of　mine　that；　modern　and　normal；　harked

back　to　a　past　so　remote　as　to　be　contemporaneous　with

the　raw　beginnings　of　mankind。



For　in　this　past　I　know　of；　man；　as　we　to…day　know　him；

did　not　exist。　　It　was　in　the　period　of　his　becoming

that　I　must　have　lived　and　had　my　being。







CHAPTER　III





The　commonest　dream　of　my　early　childhood　was　something

like　this：　It　seemed　that　I　was　very　small　and　that　I

lay　curled　up　in　a　sort　of　nest　of　twigs　and　boughs。

Sometimes　I　was　lying　on　my　back。　In　this　position　it

seemed　that　I　spent　many　hours；　watching　the　play　of

sunlight　on　the　foliage　and　the　stirring　of　the　leaves

by　the　wind。　　Often　the　nest　itself　moved　back　and

forth　when　the　wind　was　strong。



But　always；　while　so　lying　in　the　nest；　I　was　mastered

as　of　tremendous　space　beneath　me。　　I　never　saw　it；　I

never　peered　over　the　edge　of　the　nest　to　see；　but　I

KNEW　and　feared　that　space　that　lurked　just　beneath　me

and　that　ever　threatened　me　like　a　maw　of　some

all…devouring　monster。



This　dream；　in　which　I　was　quiescent　and　which　was　more

like　a　condition　than　an　experience　of　action；　I

dreamed　very　often　in　my　early　childhood。　　But

suddenly；　there　would　rush　into　the　very　midst　of　it

strange　forms　and　ferocious　happenings；　the　thunder　and

crashing　of　storm；　or　unfamiliar　landscapes　such　as　in

my　wake…a…day　life　I　had　never　seen。　　The　result　was

confusion　and　nightmare。　　I　could　comprehend　nothing　of

it。　　There　was　no　logic　of　sequence。



You　see；　I　did　not　dream　consecutively。　　One　moment　I

was　a　wee　babe　of　the　Younger　World　lying　in　my　tree

nest；　the　next　moment　I　was　a　grown　man　of　the　Younger

World　locked　in　combat　with　the　hideous　Red…Eye；　and

the　next　moment　I　was　creeping　carefully　down　to　the

water…hole　in　the　heat　of　the　day。　　Events；　years　apart

in　their　occurrence　in　the　Younger　World；　occurred　with

me　within　the　space　of　several　minutes；　or　seconds。



It　was　all　a　jumble；　but　this　jumble　I　shall　not

inflict　upon　you。　It　was　not　until　I　was　a　young　man

and　had　dreamed　many　thousand　times；　that　everything

straightened　out　and　became　clear　and　plain。　　Then　it

was　that　I　got　the　clew　of　time；　and　was　able　to　piece

together　events　and　actions　in　their　proper　order。

Thus　was　I　able　to　reconstruct　the　vanished　Younger

World　as　it　was　at　the　time　I　lived　in　itor　at　the

time　my　other…self　lived　in　it。　　The　distinction　does

not　matter；　for　I；　too；　the　modern　man；　have　gone　back

and　lived　that　early　life　in　the　company　of　my

other…self。



For　your　convenience；　since　this　is　to　be　no

sociological　screed；　I　shall　frame　together　the

different　events　into　a　comprehensive　story。　　For　there

is　a　certain　thread　of　continuity　and　happening　that

runs　through　all　the　dreams。　　There　is　my　friendship

with　Lop…Ear；　for　instance。　　Also；　there　is　the　enmity

of　Red…Eye；　and　the　love　of　the　Swift　One。　　Taking　it

all　in　all；　a　fairly　coherent　and　interesting　story　I

am　sure　you　will　agree。



I　do　not　remember　much　of　my　mother。　　Possibly　the

earliest　recollection　I　have　of　herand　certainly　the

sharpestis　the　following：　It　seemed　I　was　lying　on

the　ground。　　I　was　somewhat　older　than　during　the　nest

days；　but　still　helpless。　　I　rolled　about　in　the　dry

leaves；　playing　with　them　and　making　crooning；　rasping

noises　in　my　throat。　　The　sun　shone　warmly　and　I　was

happy；　and　comfortable。　　I　was　in　a　little　open　space。

Around　me；　on　all　sides；　were　bushes　and　fern…like

growths；　and　overhead　and　all　about　were　the　trunks　and

branches　of　forest　trees。



Suddenly　I　heard　a　sound。　　I　sat　upright　and　listened。

I　made　no　movement。　　The　little　noises　died　down　in　my

throat；　and　I　sat　as　one　petrified。　　The　sound　drew

closer。　　It　was　like　the　grunt　of　a　pig。　　Then　I　began

to　hear　the　sounds　caused　by　the　moving　of　a　body

through　the　brush。　　Next　I　saw　the　ferns　agitated　by

the　passage　of　the　body。　　Then　the　ferns　parted；　and　I

saw　gleaming　eyes；　a　long　snout；　and　white　tusks。



It　was　a　wild　boar。　　He　peered　at　me　curiously。　　He

grunted　once　or　twice　and　shifted　his　weight　from　one

foreleg　to　the　other；　at　the　same　time　moving　his　head

from　side　to　side　and　swaying　the　ferns。　　Still　I　sat

as　one　petrified；　my　eyes　unblinking　as　I　stared　at

him；　fear　eating　at　my　heart。



It　seemed　that　this　movelessness　and　silence　on　my　part

was　what　was　expected　of　me。　　I　was　not　to　cry　out　in

the　face　of　fear。　　It　was　a　dictate　of　instinct。　　And

so　I　sat　there　and　waited　for　I　knew　not　what。　　The

boar　thrust　the　ferns　aside　and　stepped　into　the　open。

The　curiosity　went　out　of　his　eyes；　and　they　gleamed

cruelly。　　He　tossed　his　head　at　me　threateningly　and

advanced　a　step。　　This　he　did　again；　and　yet　again。



Then　I　screamed。。。or　shriekedI　cannot　describe　it；

but　it　was　a　shrill　and　terrible　cry。　　And　it　seems

that　it；　too；　at　this　stage　of　the　proceedings；　was　the

thing　expected　of　me。　　From　not　far　away　came　an

answering　cry。　　My　sounds　seemed　momentarily　to

disconcert　the　boar；　and　while　he　halted　and　shifted

his　weight　with　indecision；　an　apparition　burst　upon

us。



She　was　like　a　large　orangutan；　my　mother；　or　like　a

chimpanzee；　and　yet；　in　sharp　and　definite　ways；　quite

different。　　She　was　heavier　of　build　than　they；　and　had

less　hair。　　Her　arms　were　not　so　long；　and　her　legs

were　stouter。　　She　wore　no　clothesonly　her　natural

hair。　　And　I　can　tell　you　she　was　a　fury　when　she　was

excited。



And　like　a　fury　she　dashed　upon　the　scene。　　She　was

gritting　her　teeth；　making　frightful　grimaces；

snarling；　uttering　sharp　and　continuous　cries　that

sounded　like　〃kh…ah！　kh…ah！〃　So　sudden　and　formidable

was　her　appearance　that　the　boar　involuntarily　bunched

himself　together　on　the　defensive　and　bristled　as　she

swerved　toward　him。　　Then　she　swerved　toward　me。　　She

had　quite　taken　the　breath　out　of　him。　　I　knew　just

what　to　do　in　that　moment　of　time　she　had　gained。　　I

leaped　to　meet　her；　catching　her　about　the　waist　and

holding　on　hand　and　footyes；　by　my　feet；　I　could　hold

on　by　them　as　readily　as　by　my　hands。　　I　could　feel　in

my　tense　grip　the　pull　of　the　hair　as　her　skin　and　her

muscles　moved　beneath　with　her　efforts。



As　I　say；　I　leaped　to　meet　her；　and　on　the　instant　she

leaped　straight　up　into　the　air；　catching　an

overhanging　branch　with　her　hands。　　The　next　instant；

with　clashing　tusks；　the　boar　drove　past　underneath。

He　had　recovered　from　his　surprise　and　sprung　forward；

emitting　a　squeal　that　was　almost　a　trumpeting。　　At　any

rate　it　was　a　call；　for　it　was　followed　by　the　rushing

of　bodies　through　the　ferns　and　brush　from　all

directions。



From　every　side　wild　hogs　dashed　into　the　open　spacea

score　of　them。　　But　my　mother　swung　over　the　top　of　a

thick　limb；　a　dozen　feet　from　the　ground；　and；　still

holding　on　to　her；　we　perched　there　in　safety。　　She　was

very　excited。　　She　chattered　and　screamed；　and　scolded

down　at　the　bristling；　tooth…gnashing　circle　that　had

gathered　beneath。　　I；　too；　trembling；　peered　down　at

the　angry　beasts　and　did　my　best　to　imitate　my　mother's

cries。



From　the　distance　came　similar　cries；　only　pitched

deeper；　into　a　sort　of　roaring　bass。　　These　grew

momentarily　louder；　and　soon　I　saw　him　approaching；　my

fatherat　least；　by　all　the　evidence　of　the　times；　I

am　driven　to　conclude　that　he　was　my　father。



He　was　not　an　extremely　prepossessing　father；　as

fathers　go。　　He　seemed　half　man；　and　half　ape；　and　yet

not　ape；　and　not　yet　man。　I　fail　to　describe　him。

There　is　nothing　like　him　to…day　on　the　earth；　under

the　earth；　nor　in　the　earth。　　He　was　a　large　man　in　his

day；　and　he　must　have　weighed　all　of　a　hundred　and

thirty　pounds。　　His　face　was　broad　and　flat；　and　the

eyebrows　over…hung　the　eyes。　　The　eyes　themselves　were

small；　deep…set；　and　close　together。　　He　had

practically　no　nose　at　all。　　It　was　squat　and　broad；

apparently　with…out　any　bridge；　while　the　nostrils　were

like　two　holes　in　the　face；　opening　outward　instead　of

down。



The　forehead　slanted　back　from　the　eyes；　and　the　hair

began　right　at　the　eyes　and　ran　up　over　the　head。　　The

head　itself　was　preposterously　small　and　was　supported

on　an　equally　preposterous；　thick；　short　neck。



There　was　an　elemental　economy　about　his　bodyas　was

there　about　all　our　bodies。　　The　chest　was　deep；　it　is

true；　cavernously　deep；　but　there　were　no　full…swelling

muscles；　no　wide…spreading　shoulders；　no　clean…limbed

straightness；　no　generous　symmetry　of　outline。　　It

represented　strength；　that　body　of　my　father's；

strength　without　beauty；　ferocious；　primordial

strength；　made　to　clutch　and　gripe　and　rend　and

destroy。



His　hips　were　thin；　and　the　legs；　lean　and　hairy；　were

crooked　and　stringy…muscled。　　In　fact；　my　father's　legs

were　more　like　arms。　They　were　twisted　and　gnarly；　and

with　scarcely　the　semblance　of　the　full　meaty　calf　such

as　graces　your　leg　and　mine。　　I　remember　he　could　not

walk　on　the　flat　of　his　foot。　　This　was　because　it　was

a　prehensile　foot；　more　like　a　hand　than　a　foot。　　The

great　toe；　instead　of　being　in　line　with　the　other

toes；　opposed　them；　like　a　thumb；　and　its　opposition　to

the　other　toes　was　what　enabled　him　to　get　a　grip　with

his　foot。　　This　was　why　he　could　not　walk　on　the　flat

of　his　foot。



But　his　appe