st as the old civilization passed, so will the
new. It may take fifty thousand years to build, but it will pass. All
things pass. Only remain cosmic force and matter, ever in flux, ever
acting and reacting and realizing the eternal types--the priest, the
soldier, and the king. Out of the mouths of babes comes the wisdom of
all the ages. Some will fight, some will rule, some will pray; and all
the rest will toil and suffer sore while on their bleeding carcasses
is reared again, and yet again, without end, the amazing beauty and
surpassing wonder of the civilized state. It were just as well that I
destroyed those cave-stored books--whether they remain or perish, all
their old truths will be discovered, their old lies lived and handed
down. What is the profit--"
Hare-Lip leaped to his feet, giving a quick glance at the pasturing
goats and the afternoon sun.
"Gee!" he muttered to Edwin, "The old geezer gets more long-winded every
day. Let's pull for camp."
While the other two, aided by the dogs, assembled the goats and started
them for the trail through the forest, Edwin stayed by the old man and
guided him in the same direction. When they reached the old right of
way, Edwin stopped suddenly and looked back. Hare-Lip and Hoo-Hoo and
the dogs and the goats passed on. Edwin was looking at a small herd of
wild horses which had come down on the hard sand. There were at least
twenty of them, young colts and yearlings and mares, led by a beautiful
stallion which stood in the foam at the edge of the surf, with arched
neck and bright wild eyes, sniffing the salt air from off the sea.
"What is it?" Granser queried.
"Horses," was the answer. "First time I ever seen 'em on the beach. It's
the mountain lions getting thicker and thicker and driving 'em down."
The low sun shot red shafts of light, fan-shaped, up from a
cloud-tumbled horizon. And close at hand, in the white waste of
shore-lashed waters, the sea-lions, bellowing their old primeval chant,
hauled up out of the sea on the black rocks and fought and loved.
"Come on, Granser," Edwin prompted. And old man and boy, skin-clad and
barbaric, turned and went along the right of way into the forest in the
wake of the goats.
THE END
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Scarlet Plague, by Jack London
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