use we know where we should have fixed our gaze and understand the
task to the accomplishment of which we should have bent our energies,
but we went about like sleep-walkers and refused to see what thousands
of others knew, what thousands saw in astonishment and concern at our
heedlessness.

We might easily have peeped through the curtain that hid the future from
us, for it had plenty of holes, but we passed them by unnoticed. And,
nevertheless, there were many who did peep through. Some, while reading
their paper, let it fall into their lap and stared into space, letting
their thoughts wander far away to a spot whence the subdued clash of
arms and tumult of war reached their soul like the mysterious roll and
roar of the breakers. Others were struck by a chance word overheard in
the rush of the street, which they would remember until it was driven
out by the strenuous struggle that each day brought with it. But the
word itself had not died; it continued to live in the foundation of the
consciousness where our burning thoughts cannot enter, and sometimes in
the night it would be born afresh in the shape of wild squadrons of
cavalry galloping across the short grass of the prairie with noiseless
hoofs. The thunder of cannon could be heard in the air long before the
guns were loaded.

I saw no more than others, and when the grim horrors of the future first
breathed coldly upon me I, too, soon forgot it. It happened at San
Francisco in the spring of 1907. We were standing before a bar, and from
outside came the sounds of an uproar in the street. Two men were being
thrown out of a Japanese restaurant across the way, and the Japanese
proprietor, who was standing in the doorway, kicked the hat of one of
them across the pavement so that it rolled over the street like a
football.

"Well, what do you think of that," cried my friend, Arthur Wilcox, "the
Jap is attacking the white men."

I held him back by the arm, for a tall Irish policeman had already
seized the Jap, who protested loudly and would not submit to arrest. The
policeman took good hold of him, but before he knew it he lay like a log
on the pavement, the Japanese dwarf apparently having thrown him without
the least trouble. A wild brawl followed. Half an hour later only a few
policemen, taking notes, were walking about in the Japanese restaurant,
which had been completely demolished by a frenzied mob. We remained at
the bar for some time afterwards engaged in earnes