“A strange thing was what was taking place with all the domestic animals. Everywhere they were going wild and preying11 on one another. The chickens and ducks were the first to be destroyed, while the pigs were the first to go wild, followed by the cats. Nor were the dogs long in adapting themselves to the changed conditions. There was a veritable plague of dogs. They devoured12 the corpses13, barked and howled during the nights, and in the daytime slunk about in the distance. As the time went by, I noticed a change in their behavior. At first they were apart from one another, very suspicious and very prone14 to fight. But after a not very long while they began to come together and run in packs. The dog, you see, always was a social animal, and this was true before ever he came to be domesticated15 by man. In the last days of the world before the plague, there were many many very different kinds of dogs—dogs without hair and dogs with warm fur, dogs so small that they would make scarcely a mouthful for other dogs that were as large as mountain lions. Well, all the small dogs, and the weak types, were killed by their fellows. Also, the very large ones were not adapted for the wild life and bred out. As a result, the many different kinds of dogs disappeared, and there remained, running in packs, the medium-sized wolfish dogs that you know to-day.”
“But the cats don't run in packs, Granser,” Hoo-Hoo objected.
“The cat was never a social animal. As one writer in the nineteenth century said, the cat walks by himself. He always walked by himself, from before the time he was tamed by man, down through the long ages of domestication16, to to-day when once more he is wild.
“The horses also went wild, and all the fine breeds we had degenerated17 into the small mustang horse you know to-day. The cows likewise went wild, as did the pigeons and the sheep. And that a few of the chickens survived you know yourself. But the wild chicken of to-day is quite a different thing from the chickens we had in those days.
“But I must go on with my story. I travelled through a deserted land. As the time went by I began to yearn18 more and more for human beings. But I never found one, and I grew lonelier and lonelier. I crossed Livermore Valley and the mountains between it and the great valley of the San Joaquin. You have never seen that valley, but it is very large and it is the home of the wild horse. There are great droves there, thousands and tens of thousands. I revisited it thirty years after, so I know. You think there are lots of wild horses down here in the coast valleys, but they are as nothing compared with those of the San Joaquin. Strange to say, the cows, when they went wild, went back into the lower mountains. Evidently they were better able to protect themselves there.
“In the country districts the ghouls and prowlers had been less in evidence, for I found many villages and towns untouched by fire. But they were filled by the pestilential dead, and I passed by without exploring them. It was near Lathrop that, out of my loneliness, I picked up a pair of collie dogs that were so newly free that they were urgently willing to return to their allegiance to man. These collies accompanied me for many years, and the strains of them are in those very dogs there that you boys have to-day. But in sixty years the collie strain has worked out. These brutes19 are more like domesticated wolves than anything else.”
Hare-Lip rose to his feet, glanced to see that the goats were safe, and looked at the sun's position in the afternoon sky, advertising21 impatience22 at the prolixity23 of the old man's tale. Urged to hurry by Edwin, Granser went on.
“There is little more to tell. With my two dogs and my pony, and riding a horse I had managed to capture, I crossed the San Joaquin and went on to a wonderful valley in the Sierras called Yosemite. In the great hotel there I found a prodigious24 supply of tinned provisions. The pasture was abundant, as was the game, and the river that ran through the valley was full of trout25. I remained there three years in an utter loneliness that none but a man who has once been highly civilized26 can understand. Then I could stand it no more. I felt that I was going crazy. Like the dog, I was a social animal and I needed my kind. I reasoned that since I had survived the plague, there was a possibility that others had survived. Also, I reasoned that after three years the plague germs must all be gone and the land be clean again.
“With my horse and dogs and pony, I set out. Again I crossed the San Joaquin Valley, the mountains beyond, and came down into Livermore Valley. The change in those three years was amazing. All the land had been splendidly tilled, and now I could scarcely recognize it, 'such was the sea of rank vegetation that had overrun the agricultural handiwork of man. You see, the wheat, the vegetables, and orchard7 trees had always been cared for and nursed by man, so that they were soft and tender. The weeds and wild bushes and such things, on the contrary, had always been fought by man, so that they were tough and resistant27. As a result, when the hand of man was removed, the wild vegetation smothered28 and destroyed practically all the domesticated vegetation. The coyotes were greatly increased, and it was at this time that I first encountered wolves, straying in twos and threes and small packs down from the regions where they had always persisted.
“It was at Lake Temescal, not far from the one-time city of Oakland, that I came upon the first live human beings. Oh, my grandsons, how can I describe to you my emotion, when, astride my horse and dropping down the hillside to the lake, I saw the smoke of a campfire rising through the trees. Almost did my heart stop beating. I felt that I was going crazy. Then I heard the cry of a babe—a human babe. And dogs barked, and my dogs answered. I did not know but what I was the one human alive in the whole world. It could not be true that here were others—smoke, and the cry of a babe.
“Emerging on the lake, there, before my eyes, not a hundred yards away, I saw a man, a large man. He was standing29 on an outjutting rock and fishing. I was overcome. I stopped my horse. I tried to call out but could not. I waved my hand. It seemed to me that the man looked at me, but he did not appear to wave. Then I laid my head on my arms there in the saddle. I was afraid to look again, for I knew it was an hallucination, and I knew that if I looked the man would be gone. And so precious was the hallucination, that I wanted it to persist yet a little while. I knew, too, that as long as I did not look it would persist.
“Thus I remained, until I heard my dogs snarling30, and a man's voice. What do you think the voice said? I will tell you. It said: 'Where in hell did you come from??'
“Those were the words, the exact words. That was what your other grandfather said to me, Hare-Lip, when he greeted me there on the shore of Lake Temescal fifty-seven years ago. And they were the most ineffable31 words I have ever heard. I opened my eyes, and there he stood before me, a large, dark, hairy man, heavy-jawed, slant-browed, fierce-eyed. How I got off my horse I do not know. But it seemed that the next I knew I was clasping his hand with both of mine and crying. I would have embraced him, but he was ever a narrow-minded, suspicious man, and he drew away from me. Yet did I cling to his hand and cry.”
Granser's voice faltered33 and broke at the recollection, and the weak tears streamed down his cheeks while the boys looked on and giggled34.
“Yet did I cry,” he continued, “and desire to embrace him, though the Chauffeur35 was a brute20, a perfect brute—the most abhorrent36 man I have ever known. His name was... strange, how I have forgotten his name. Everybody called him Chauffeur—it was the name of his occupation, and it stuck. That is how, to this day, the tribe he founded is called the Chauffeur Tribe.
“He was a violent, unjust man. Why the plague germs spared him I can never understand. It would seem, in spite of our old metaphysical notions about absolute justice, that there is no justice in the universe. Why did he live?—an iniquitous37, moral monster, a blot38 on the face of nature, a cruel, relentless39, bestial40 cheat as well. All he could talk about was motor cars, machinery41, gasoline, and garages—and especially, and with huge delight, of his mean pilferings and sordid42 swindlings of the persons who had employed him in the days before the coming of the plague. And yet he was spared, while hundreds of millions, yea, billions, of better men were destroyed.
“I went on with him to his camp, and there I saw her, Vesta, the one woman. It was glorious and... pitiful. There she was, Vesta Van Warden43, the young wife of John Van Warden, clad in rags, with marred44 and scarred and toil-calloused hands, bending over the campfire and doing scullion work—she, Vesta, who had been born to the purple of the greatest baronage of wealth the world had ever known. John Van Warden, her husband, worth one billion, eight hundred millions and President of the Board of Industrial Magnates, had been the ruler of America. Also, sitting on the International Board of Control, he had been one of the seven men who ruled the world. And she herself had come of equally noble stock. Her father, Philip Saxon, had been President of the Board of Industrial Magnates up to the time of his death. This office was in process of becoming hereditary45, and had Philip Saxon had a son that son would have succeeded him. But his only child was Vesta, the perfect flower of generations of the highest culture this planet has ever produced. It was not until the engagement between Vesta and Van Warden took place, that Saxon indicated the latter as his successor. It was, I am sure, a political marriage. I have reason to believe that Vesta never really loved her husband in the mad passionate46 way of which the poets used to sing. It was more like the marriages that obtained among crowned heads in the days before they were displaced by the Magnates.
“And there she was, boiling fish-chowder in a soot-covered pot, her glorious eyes inflamed47 by the acrid48 smoke of the open fire. Hers was a sad story. She was the one survivor49 in a million, as I had been, as the Chauffeur had been. On a crowning eminence50 of the Alameda Hills, overlooking San Francisco Bay, Van Warden had built a vast summer palace. It was surrounded by a park of a thousand acres. When the plague broke out, Van Warden sent her there. Armed guards patrolled the boundaries of the park, and nothing entered in the way of provisions or even mail matter that was not first fumigated51. And yet did the plague enter, killing52 the guards at their posts, the servants at their tasks, sweeping53 away the whole army of retainers—or, at least, all of them who did not flee to die elsewhere. So it was that Vesta found herself the sole living person in the palace that had become a charnel house.
“Now the Chauffeur had been one of the servants that ran away. Returning, two months afterward54, he discovered Vesta in a little summer pavilion where there had been no deaths and where she had established herself. He was a brute. She was afraid, and she ran away and hid among the trees. That night, on foot, she fled into the mountains—she, whose tender feet and delicate body had never known the bruise55 of stones nor the scratch of briars. He followed, and that night he caught her. He struck her. Do you understand? He beat her with those terrible fists of his and made her his slave. It was she who had to gather the firewood, build the fires, cook, and do all the degrading camp-labor—she, who had never performed a menial act in her life. These things he compelled her to do, while he, a proper savage56, elected to lie around camp and look on. He did nothing, absolutely nothing, except on occasion to hunt meat or catch fish.”
“Good for Chauffeur,” Hare-Lip commented in an undertone to the other boys. “I remember him before he died. He was a corker. But he did things, and he made things go. You know, Dad married his daughter, an' you ought to see the way he knocked the spots outa Dad. The Chauffeur was a son-of-a-gun. He made us kids stand around. Even when he was croaking57 he reached out for me, once, an' laid my head open with that long stick he kept always beside him.”
Hare-Lip rubbed his bullet head reminiscently, and the boys returned to the old man, who was maundering ecstatically about Vesta, the squaw of the founder58 of the Chauffeur Tribe.
“And so I say to you that you cannot understand the awfulness of the situation. The Chauffeur was a servant, understand, a servant. And he cringed, with bowed head, to such as she. She was a lord of life, both by birth and by marriage. The destinies of millions, such as he, she carried in the hollow of her pink-white hand. And, in the days before the plague, the slightest contact with such as he would have been pollution. Oh, I have seen it. Once, I remember, there was Mrs. Goldwin, wife of one of the great magnates. It was on a landing stage, just as she was embarking59 in her private dirigible, that she dropped her parasol. A servant picked it up and made the mistake of handing it to her—to her, one of the greatest royal ladies of the land! She shrank back, as though he were a leper, and indicated her secretary to receive it. Also, she ordered her secretary to ascertain60 the creature's name and to see that he was immediately discharged from service. And such a woman was Vesta Van Warden. And her the Chauffeur beat and made his slave.
“—Bill—that was it; Bill, the Chauffeur. That was his name. He was a wretched, primitive61 man, wholly devoid62 of the finer instincts and chivalrous63 promptings of a cultured soul. No, there is no absolute justice, for to him fell that wonder of womanhood, Vesta Van Warden. The grievous-ness of this you will never understand, my grandsons; for you are yourselves primitive little savages64, unaware65 of aught else but savagery66. Why should Vesta not have been mine? I was a man of culture and refinement67, a professor in a great university. Even so, in the time before the plague, such was her exalted68 position, she would not have deigned69 to know that I existed. Mark, then, the abysmal70 degradation71 to which she fell at the hands of the Chauffeur. Nothing less than the destruction of all mankind had made it possible that I should know her, look in her eyes, converse72 with her, touch her hand—ay, and love her and know that her feelings toward me were very kindly73. I have reason to believe that she, even she, would have loved me, there being no other man in the world except the Chauffeur. Why, when it destroyed eight billions of souls, did not the plague destroy just one more man, and that man the Chauffeur?
“Once, when the Chauffeur was away fishing, she begged me to kill him. With tears in her eyes she begged me to kill him. But he was a strong and violent man, and I was afraid. Afterwards, I talked with him. I offered him my horse, my pony, my dogs, all that I possessed, if he would give Vesta to me. And he grinned in my face and shook his head. He was very insulting. He said that in the old days he had been a servant, had been dirt under the feet of men like me and of women like Vesta, and that now he had the greatest lady in the land to be servant to him and cook his food and nurse his brats74. 'You had your day before the plague,' he said; 'but this is my day, and a damned good day it is. I wouldn't trade back to the old times for anything.' Such words he spoke75, but they are not his words. He was a vulgar, low-minded man, and vile76 oaths fell continually from his lips.
“Also, he told me that if he caught me making eyes at his woman he'd wring77 my neck and give her a beating as well. What was I to do? I was afraid. He was a brute. That first night, when I discovered the camp, Vesta and I had great talk about the things of our vanished world. We talked of art, and books, and poetry; and the Chauffeur listened and grinned and sneered78. He was bored and angered by our way of speech which he did not comprehend, and finally he spoke up and said: 'And this is Vesta Van Warden, one-time wife of Van Warden the Magnate—a high and stuck-up beauty, who is now my squaw. Eh, Professor Smith, times is changed, times is changed. Here, you, woman, take off my moccasins, and lively about it. I want Professor Smith to see how well I have you trained.'
“I saw her clench79 her teeth, and the flame of revolt rise in her face. He drew back his gnarled fist to strike, and I was afraid, and sick at heart. I could do nothing to prevail against him. So I got up to go, and not be witness to such indignity80. But the Chauffeur laughed and threatened me with a beating if I did not stay and behold81. And I sat there, perforce, by the campfire on the shore of Lake Temescal, and saw Vesta, Vesta Van Warden, kneel and remove the moccasins of that grinning, hairy, apelike human brute.
“—Oh, you do not understand, my grandsons. You have never known anything else, and you do not understand.
“'Halter-broke and bridle-wise,' the Chauffeur gloated, while she performed that dreadful, menial task. 'A trifle balky at times, Professor, a trifle balky; but a clout82 alongside the jaw32 makes her as meek83 and gentle as a lamb.'
“And another time he said: 'We've got to start all over and replenish84 the earth and multiply. You're handicapped, Professor. You ain't got no wife, and we're up against a regular Garden-of-Eden proposition. But I ain't proud. I'll tell you what, Professor.' He pointed85 at their little infant, barely a year old. 'There's your wife, though you'll have to wait till she grows up. It's rich, ain't it? We're all equals here, and I'm the biggest toad86 in the splash. But I ain't stuck up—not I. I do you the honor, Professor Smith, the very great honor of betrothing87 to you my and Vesta Van Warden's daughter. Ain't it cussed bad that Van Warden ain't here to see?'”
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1
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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3
recuperated
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| v.恢复（健康、体力等），复原( recuperate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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ripening
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
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7
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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farmhouses
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| n.农舍，农场的主要住房( farmhouse的名词复数 ) | |
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11
preying
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| v.掠食( prey的现在分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
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12
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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15
domesticated
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| adj.喜欢家庭生活的；（指动物）被驯养了的v.驯化( domesticate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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domestication
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| n.驯养，驯化 | |
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degenerated
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| 衰退，堕落，退化( degenerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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yearn
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| v.想念；怀念；渴望 | |
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brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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impatience
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prolixity
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prodigious
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trout
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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resistant
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smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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standing
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snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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abhorrent
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| adj.可恶的，可恨的，讨厌的 | |
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iniquitous
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| adj.不公正的；邪恶的；高得出奇的 | |
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blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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bestial
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| adj.残忍的；野蛮的 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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warden
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| n.监察员，监狱长，看守人，监护人 | |
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marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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47
inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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survivor
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| n.生存者，残存者，幸存者 | |
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50
eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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51
fumigated
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| v.用化学品熏（某物）消毒( fumigate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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53
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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55
bruise
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| n.青肿，挫伤；伤痕；vt.打青；挫伤 | |
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56
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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croaking
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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embarking
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| 乘船( embark的现在分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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savagery
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| n.野性 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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deigned
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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abysmal
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| adj.无底的，深不可测的，极深的；糟透的，极坏的；完全的 | |
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degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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brats
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| n.调皮捣蛋的孩子( brat的名词复数 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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clench
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| vt.捏紧（拳头等），咬紧（牙齿等），紧紧握住 | |
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indignity
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| n.侮辱，伤害尊严，轻蔑 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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clout
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| n.用手猛击；权力，影响力 | |
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83
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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84
replenish
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| vt.补充；(把…)装满；(再)填满 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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toad
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
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betrothing
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| v.将某人许配给，订婚( betroth的现在分词 ) | |
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