g
mankind; but because of our line of descent there are also queer
limitations.

[Illustration: Strange forgotten dynasties]

_THREE_

In those distant invisible epochs before men existed, before even the
proud missing link strutted around through the woods (little realizing
how we his greatgrandsons would smile wryly at him, much as our own
descendants may shudder at us, ages hence) the various animals were
desperately competing for power. They couldn't or didn't live as
equals. Certain groups sought the headship.

Many strange forgotten dynasties rose, met defiance, and fell. In the
end it was our ancestors who won, and became simian kings, and
bequeathed a whole planet to us--and have never been thanked for it. No
monument has been raised to the memory of those first hairy conquerors;
yet had they not fought well and wisely in those far-off times, some
other race would have been masters, and kept us in cages, or shot us
for sport in the forests while they ruled the world.

* * * * *

So Potter and I, developing this train of thought, began to imagine we
had lived many ages ago, and somehow or other had alighted here from
some older planet. Familiar with the ways of evolution elsewhere in the
universe, we naturally should have wondered what course it would take
on this earth. "Even in this out-of-the-way corner of the Cosmos," we
might have reflected, "and on this tiny star, it may be of interest to
consider the trend of events." We should have tried to appraise the
different species as they wandered around, each with its own set of
good and bad characteristics. Which group, we'd have wondered, would
ever contrive to rule all the rest?

And how great a development could they attain to thereafter?

_FOUR_

If we had landed here after the great saurians had been swept from the
scene, we might first have considered the lemurs or apes. They had
hands. Aesthetically viewed, the poor simians were simply grotesque;
but travelers who knew other planets might have known what beauty may
spring from an uncouth beginning in this magic universe.

Still--those frowzy, unlovely hordes of apes and monkeys were so
completely lacking in signs of kingship; they were so flighty, too, in
their ways, and had so little purpose, and so much love for absurd and
idle chatter, that they would have struck us, we thought, as unlikely
material. Such traits, we should have remind