До Адама

           Oncewebrokebacktothewestward,crossingarangeofmountainsandcomingdowntothecoast.Butitwasnoplaceforus.Therewerenotrees—onlybleakheadlands,athunderingsurf,andstrongwindsthatseemednevertoceasefromblowing.Weturnedbackacrossthemountains,travellingeastandsouth,untilwecameintouchwiththegreatswampagain.

           Soonwegainedthesouthernextremityoftheswamp,andwecontinuedourcoursesouthandeast.Itwasapleasantland.Theairwaswarm,andwewereagainintheforest.Lateronwecrossedalow-lyingrangeofhillsandfoundourselvesinanevenbetterforestcountry.Thefartherwepenetratedfromthecoastthewarmerwefoundit,andwewentonandonuntilwecametoalargeriverthatseemedfamiliartotheSwiftOne.Itwaswhereshemusthavecomeduringthefouryears’absencefromthehorde.Thisriverwecrossedonlogs,landingonsideatthelargebluff.Highuponthebluffwefoundournewhomemostdifficultofaccessandquitehiddenfromanyeyebeneath.

           Thereislittlemoreofmytaletotell.HeretheSwiftOneandIlivedandrearedourfamily.Andheremymemoriesend.Wenevermadeanothermigration.Ineverdreambeyondourhigh,inaccessiblecave.Andheremusthavebeenbornthechildthatinheritedthestuffofmydreams,thathadmouldedintoitsbeingalltheimpressionsofmylife—orofthelifeofBig-Tooth,rather,whoismyother-self,andnotmyrealself,butwhoissorealtomethatoftenIamunabletotellwhatageIamlivingin.

           Ioftenwonderaboutthislineofdescent.