gs.earthabides-第70部分

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　came　to　the　oldest　of　the　younger　ones。　It　was　a　long　gap　in　Years；　and　an　immensely　longer　gap　in　culture　and　tradition。　Never　had　there　been…never　could　there　possibly　have　been…such　another　gap　between　the　older　and　the　younger　generations。　
　　Sitting　there；　on　the　Library　steps；　pounding　the　chip　of　granite　into　smaller　and　smaller　grains；　he　began　now　to　have　what　seemed　a　little　clearer　vision　of　the　future。　It　was　all　tied　up　in　that　same　old　question。　How　much　did　man　strike　outward　to　affect　all　his　surroundings　and　how　much　did　the　surroundings　press　in　upon　him？　Did　the　Napoleonic　age　produce　Napoleon　or　did　he　produce　it？　So；　even　if　Joey　had　lived；　the　welter　of　circumstances；　the　circumstances　that　made　Jack　and　Roger　and　Ralph；　would　probably　have　affected　Joey　too；　and　one　small　boy　was　not　much　to　set　up　against　all　of　that。　Yes；　even　if　Joey　had　lived；　things　would　probably　have　continued　to　move　in　the　way　they　already　seemed　to　be　moving。　Now　that　Joey　was　dead；　it　was　certain…certain；　that　is；　as　far　as　anyone　could　reasonably　expect；　granting　always　some　unforeseeable　accident。　
　　The　stars　in　their　courses！　（The　chip　of　granite　was　nothing　but　powder　under　the　blows　of　the　harnmer。）　The　stars　in　their　courses！　No；　he　did　not　believe　in　astrology；　and　yet　the　shifting　of　the　stars　showed　that　the　solar　system　too　was　changing；　and　that　the　earth　itself　was　being　a　more　or　a　less　habitable　place　for　man。　Thus；　at　some　profounder　depth　of　reality；　astrology　might　be　right；　and　the　changes　in　the　sky　could　be　taken　as　symbol　of　all　the　grinding　wheels　of　circumstance。　The　stars　in　their　courses！　What　was　man；　little　man；　to　withstand　them？　
　　Yes；　the　future　was　certain。　The　Tribe　was　not　going　to　restore　civilization。　It　did　not　want　civilization。　For　a　while　the　scavenging　would　go　on…this　opening　of　cans；　this　expending　of　cartridges　and　matches　stored　up　from　the　past；　all　this　uncreative　but　happy　manner　of　life。　Then　at　last；　sooner　or　later；　there　would　be　more　and　more　people；　and　the　supplies　would　fail。　There　would　perhaps　be　no　quick　catastrophe　because　many　cattle　could　be　had　for　the　taking；　and　life　would　go　on。　So；　he　thought；　and　then　a　new　idea　came　to　him　with　a　sudden　impact。　Even　though　cattle　were　left；　though　there　was　much　food；　what　would　happen　when　the　ammunition　for　the　rifles　was　exhasted？　When　the　matches　were　gone？　In　fact；　one　might　not　even　have　to　wait　until　the　ammunition　was　exhausted。　Powder　deteriorated　with　time。　Three　or　four　generations；　and　all　who　were　left　might　be　merely　some　groveling　primitives　who　had　lost　civilization　and　yet；　on　the　other　hand；　had　not　learned　all　those　thousand　basic　skills　which　enabled　savages　to　live　with　some　degree　of　stability　and　fort！　Possibly；　indeed…and　perhaps　this　would　best…in　three　or　four　generations　the　race　would　not　be　able　to　survive　at　all；　would　not　be　able　to　make　the　transition　between　the　scavenging；　uncreative　life；　and　some　new　level　of　life　at　which　they　could　remain　permanently；　or　from　which　they　could　once　more　begin　a　slow　advance。　
　　Again　he　pounded　heavily　on　the　edge　of　the　step。　Another　chunk　of　the　granite　fell　off。　He　looked　at　it　gloomily。　He　had　just　decided　not　to　worry；　and　here　he　was；　hard　at　it　again。　What　could　he　know　about　what　would　be　happening　three　or　four　generations　from　now？　He　got　up　and　started　to　walk　home。　He　was　quieter　now。　
　　〃Yes；〃　he　thought；　again　shaping　words；　〃a　leopard　can't　change　its　spots；　and　I'll　always　be　a　worrier；　even　though　I've　lived　with　Em　for　twenty…two　years。　I　look　before　and　after。　Relax！　Yes；　I　should　relax　a　little。　What　I　have　been　trying　to　do…that　has　failed。　I'll　admit　it。　Just　the　same；　I'm　certain　I'll　never　stop　trying　a　little。　Now；　perhaps；　if　I　try　for　something　less；　I　may　in　the　end　attain　something　more。〃　
　　
　　Chapter　10
　　By　the　time　he　had　finished　the　long　walk　up　the　hill　to　the　houses；　his　vague　plans　had　shaped　themselves；　but　he　would　have　to　wait　until　morning　to　begin。　
　　That　night；　however；　an　autumn　storm　began；　and　he　awoke　in　the　morning　to　a　world　of　low…lying　cloud　and　steady　dropping。　He　felt　surprise；　for　with　all　the　recent　troubles　he　had　failed　to　realize　that　time　was　slipping　away。　Now；　however；　when　he　thought　of　the　matter；　he　remembered　that　the　sun　had　been　setting　well　toward　the　south　and　that　the　month；　if　one　could　still　think　in　such　terms；　would　be　November。　The　rain　interfered　with　the　immediate　fulfillment　of　his　plans；　but　there　was　plenty　of　time；　and　he　could　mature　his　ideas　with　thought。　
　　So　pletely　had　his　attitudes　changed　within　the　last　day　that　the　sounds　of　the　assembling　children；　that　morning；　came　to　him　as　a　shock。　〃Of　course！〃　he　thought。　〃They　are　expecting　to　have　school　again。〃　
　　He　went　downstairs　to　meet　with　them。　They　were　all　there…all　except　Joey；　and　two　younger　ones。　He　looked　into　their　faces；　as　they　sat　on　chairs　wriggling；　or　squatted　more　fortably　on　the　floor。　They　were　looking　back　at　him；　he　imagined；　with　more　alertness　than　usual。　Joey　was　gone；　and　they　must　be　wondering　how　this　would　affect　school。　Yet　the　change；　he　knew；　must　be　only　temporary；　and　behind　this　alertness　must　lurk　still　that　basic　lack　of　interest　against　which　he　had　already　struggled。　
　　He　let　his　glance　run　over　the　little　group；　pausing　individually　upon　each　face。　They　were　fine　children；　not　really　stupid；　but　they　lacked　the　flair。　No；　there　was　not　one！　He　made　his　decision；　and　he　felt　no　pain　in　it。　
　　〃School　is　dismissed；〃　he　said。　
　　There　was　a　momentary　look　almost　as　of　consternation　in　all　the　faces；　and　then　he　saw　that　they　were　suddenly　pleased；　although　they　were　making　some　effort　not　to　show　their　pleasure。　
　　〃School　is　dismissed！〃　he　repeated；　feeling　that　he　was　being　dramatic　about　it　in　spite　of　himself。　〃There　will　be　no　more　school…ever！〃　
　　Again　he　saw　a　look　of　consternation　e　into　the　faces；　and　this　time　no　pleasure　showed　afterwards。　They　stirred　uneasily　in　their　seats。　Some　of　them　got　up　to　go。　But　they　knew　that　something　had　happened；　something　deeper　than　their　minds　could　grasp。　
　　They　went　out　slowly　and　quietly。　During　as　much　as　a　minute　after　they　had　gone　out　into　the　dripping　of　the　rain；　there　was　silence。　Then　he　heard　them　suddenly　shout；　and　they　were　children　again。　School　had　been　a　passing　incident。　Probably　they　would　never　think　of　it　again；　certainly　they　would　never　regret　it。　For　a　moment　Ish　felt　a　heaviness　within　him。　〃Joey；　Joey！〃　he　thought。　But　he　had　no　regret　for　what　he　had　just　done；　and　he　knew　that　he　had　made　the　right　decision。　〃School　is　dismissed！〃　he　thought。　〃School　dismissed！〃　And　he　remembered　suddenly　that　he　had　sat　in　this　same　room　many　years　before；　and　watched　the　electric　lights　fade　out。　
　　Three　days　of　rain　gave　him　plenty　of　time　to　think　things　over　and　mature　all　his　plans。　At　last　a　morning　dawned　with　blue　sky　and　a　chilly　wind　from　the　north。　The　sun　came　out；　the　vegetation　dried。　Now　was　the　time。　
　　He　hunted　through　the　deserted　and　overgrown　gardens。　This　had　never　been　an　area　where　citrus　fruits　were　grown　mercially；　but　lemons　had　produced　well　enough；　and　here　and　there　someone　had　nursed　a　lemon　tree　in　his　garden。　That　wood；　he　remembered；　was　suitable。　Of　course　he　could　have　read　any　number　of　books；　but　his　approach　had　changed。　He　would　read　no　books　on　this　matter。　He　could　do　well　enough　by　himself。　
　　Two　blocks　up　the　street　there　had　once　been　a　large　and　showy　garden。　There　he　found　a　lemon　tree。　It　was　still　living；　although　nearly　crowded　out　by　the　growth　of　two　pines　…Moreover；　it　had　suffered　badly　in　a　frost　of　some　years　previous。　Never　having　been　pruned　after　the　frost；　the　tree　was　only　a　wreck　of　itself。　Long　suckers　had　shot　up　from　its　base　after　the　frost；　and　some　of　these　again　had　died。　
　　Avoiding　the　long　thorns；　Ish　pressed　his　way　into　the　tangle；　found　a　suitable　shoot；　and　took　out　his　pocket…knife。　The　shoot　at　its　base　was　nearly　as　big　as　his　thumb。　The　dead　lemon　wood　was　almost　as　hard　as　bone；　but　after　a　while　he　whittled　it　through　with　his　knife　and　pulled　it　out　from　the　tangle。　The　shoot　was　seven　feet　long；　straight　for　four　feet　before　other　branches　had　begun　to　interfere　and　it　had　grown　crooked。　At　his　shaking；　it　was　stiff；　but　when　he　leaned　against　it；　it　bent　and　straightened　sharply　as　he　released　the　pressure。　It　would　suffice。　
　　〃Yes；〃　he　thought　a　little　bitterly；　〃it　will　be　good　enough　for　all　my　needs。〃　
　　He　carried　the　lemon…shoot　back　to　the　house；　and　sat　on　the　porch；　in　the　sun；　whittling。　First　he　cut　off　the　crooked　end　of　the　shoot　so　that　he　had　four　feet　of　straight　wood　remaining。　
　　Then　he　stripped　off　the　dead　bark；　and　began　to　taper　the　shoot　at　both　ends。　The　work　was　very　slow；　and　he　paused　frequently　to　sharpen　the　knife　on　a　whetstone。　The　white　tough…grained　wood　seemed　to　turn　the　edge　after　ouly　a　few　strokes。　
　　Walt　and　Josey　had　been　off　playing　with　the　other　children；　but　at　lunch…time　they　came　back。　〃What　are　you　doing？〃　Josey　asked　him。　
　　〃I'm　getting　ready　to　play　a　game；〃　Ish　answered　her。　He　would　not　make　the　mistake；　he　had　de