before adam(亚当之前)-第4章
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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
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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 appearance was no more unusual than the manner of his
coming； there to my mother and me as we perched above the angry wild
pigs。 He came through the trees； leaping from limb to limb and from tree
to tree； and he came swiftly。 I can see him now； in my wake…a…day life；
as I write this； swinging along through the trees； a four…handed； hairy
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creature； howling with rage； pausing now and again to beat his chest with
his clenched fist； leaping ten…and…fifteen…foot gaps； catching a branch with
one hand and swinging on across another gap to catch with his other hand
and go on； never hesitating； never at a loss as to how to proceed on his
arboreal way。
And as I watched him I felt in my own being； in my very muscles
themselves； the surge and thrill of desire to go leaping from bough to
bough； and I felt also the guarantee of the latent power in that being and in
those muscles of mine。 And why not？ Little boys watch their fathers
swing axes and fell trees； and feel in themselves that some day they； too；
will swing axes and fell trees。 And so with me。 The life that was in me
was constituted to do what my father did； and it whispered to me secretly
and ambitiously of aerial paths and forest flights。
At last my father joined us。 He was extremely angry。 I remember the
out…thrust of his protruding underlip as he glared down at the wild pigs。
He snarled something like a dog； and I remember that his eye…teeth were
large； like fangs； and that they impressed me tremendously。
His conduct served only the more to infuriate the pigs。 He broke off
twigs and small branches and flung them down upon our enemies。 He
even hung by one hand； tantalizingly just beyond reach； and mocked them
as they gnashed their tusks with impotent rage。 Not content with this； he
broke off a stout branch； and； holding on with one hand and foot； jabbed
the infuriated beasts in the sides and whacked them across their noses。
Needless to state； my mother and I enjoyed the sport。
But one tires of all good things； and in the end； my father； chuckling
maliciously the while； led the way across the trees。 Now it was that my
ambitions ebbed away； and I became timid； holding tightly to my mother
as she climbed and swung through space。 I remember when the branch
broke with her weight。 She had made a wide leap； and with the snap of
the wood I was overwhelmed with the sickening consciousness of falling
through space； the pair of us。 The forest and the sunshine on the rustling
leaves vanished from my eyes。 I had a fading glimpse of my father
abruptly arresting his progress to look； and then all was blackness。
The next moment I was awake； in my sheeted bed； sweating； trembling；
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nauseated。 The window was up； and a cool air was blowing through the
room。 The night…lamp was burning calmly。 And because of this I take
it that the wild pigs did not get us； that we never fetched bottom； else I
should not be here now； a thousand centuries after； to remember the event。
And now put yourself in my place for a moment。 Walk with me a bit
in my tender childhood； bed with me a night and imagine yourself
dreaming such incomprehensible horrors。 Remember I was an
inexperienced child。 I had never seen a wild boar in my life。 For that
matter I had never seen a domesticated pig。 The nearest approach to one
that I had seen was breakfast bacon sizzling in its fat。 And yet here； real
as life； wild boars dashed through my dreams； and I； with fantastic parents；
swung through the lofty tree…spaces。
Do you wonder that I was frightened and oppressed by my nightmare…
ridden nights？ I was accursed。 And； worst of all； I was afraid to tell。 I
do not know why； except that I had a feeling of guilt； though I knew no
better of what I was guilty。 So it was； through long years； that I suffered
in silence； until I came to man's estate and learned the why and wherefore
of my dreams。
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CHAPTER IV
There is one puzzling thing about these prehistoric memories of mine。
It is the vagueness of the time element。 I lo not always know the order of
events；or can I tell； between some events； whether one； two； or four or
five years have elapsed。 I can only roughly tell the passage of time by
judging the changes in the appearance and pursuits of my fellows。
Also； I can apply the logic of events to the various happenings。 For
instance； there is no doubt whatever that my mother and I were treed by
the wild pigs and fled and fell in the days before I made the acquaintance
of Lop…Ear； who became what I may call my boyhood chum。 And it is
just as conclusive that between these two periods I must have left my
mother。
I have no memory of my father than the one I have given。 Never； in
the years that followed； did he reappear。 And from my knowledge of the
times； the only explanation possible lies in that he perished shortly after
the adventure with the wild pigs。 That it must have been an untimely end；
there is no discussion。 He was in full vigor； and only sudden and violent
death could have taken him off。 But I know not the manner of his going…
…whether he was drowned in the river； or was swallowed by a snake； or
went into the stomach of old Saber…Tooth； the tiger； is beyond my
knowledge。
For know that I remember only the things I saw myself； with my own
eyes； in those prehistoric days。 If my mother knew my father's end； she
never told me。 For that matter I doubt if she had a vocabulary adequate
to convey such information。 Perhaps； all told； the Folk in that day had a
vocabulary of thirty or forty sounds。
I call them SOUNDS； rather than WORDS； because sounds they were
primarily。 They had no fixed values； to be altered by adjectives and
adverbs。 These latter were tools of speech not yet invented。 Instead of
qualifying nouns or verbs by the use of adjectives and adverbs； we
qualified sounds by intonation； by changes in quantity and pitch； by
retarding and by accelerating。 The length of time employed in the
utterance of a particular sound shaded its meaning。
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We had no conjugation。 One judged the tense by the context。 We
talked only concrete things because we thought only concrete things。
