gs.earthabides-第50部分

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He；　like　Joey；　but　even　more　so；　had　mana　within　him。　He　could　perform　strange　feats。　He　knew　the　meanings　of　the　puzzling　words。　He　knew　the　curious　ways　of　numbers。　He　knew；　by　some　strange　power；　what　the　world　was　like；　away　beyond　the　horizon；　out　through　the　Golden　Gate；　that　there　were　islands　far　in　the　ocean　beyond　the　little　rock…tips　of　the　Farallones；　that　they　sometimes　saw　standing　up　above　the　horizon　on　clear　days。　
　　The　children；　he　came　to　realize；　were　not　only　children；　but　they　were　also　unsophisticated　and　inexperienced　as　children　in　the　Old　Times　had　rarely　been。　None　of　them　had　ever　seen　more　than　a　few　dozen　people。　Though　their　lives；　he　believed；　had　been　happy；　they　had　been　happy　with　the　simplicity　of　a　few　satisfying　experiences；　repeated　again　and　again。　They　had　not　suffered　the　continual　shock　of　change　which　had　so　affected　children　in　the　old　days；　both　for　good　and　for　bad；　making　them　nervous　on　the　one　hand；　and　yet　alert　on　the　other。　
　　Children　so　unsophisticated　might　easily　e　to　feel　a　certain　dread　of　him；　to　regard　him　as　a　being　with　powers　different　from　their　own；　not　altogether　earthly。　At　times　he　sensed　this　feeling　and　even　saw　definite　evidences　of　it。　
　　Yet　at　other　times；　indeed　generally；　he　was　merely　their　own　father　or　grandfather；　or　Uncle　Ish；　a　person　they　had　known　all　their　lives；　with　whom　they　had　romped　on　the　floor　when　they　were　little。　They　had　no　more　respect　for　such　a　person　than　children　ever　had。　In　fact　the　bigger　ones　already　showed　the　adolescent　feeling　that　the　older　man　was　blundering　and　quite　obtuse。　Perhaps　they　stood　in　some　awe；　but　still　they　played　tricks　on　him。　
　　Once；　not　a　week　after　the　incident　of　the　hammer；　they　had　set　a　tack　for　him　in　his　chair；　though　that　was　one　of　the　oldest　of　all　tricks　to　play　on　a　teacher。　And　again；　after　they　had　left　the　room　with　much　suppressed　giggling；　Ish　discovered　that　someone　had　worked　that　other　old　trick　of　pinning　a　strip　of　cloth　to　his　rear；　so　that　it　hung　down　like　a　white　tail　behind。　
　　Ish　accepted　such　tricks　in　good　spirit；　and　did　not　attempt　to　find　out　which　one　of　the　children　had　done　them　or　to　inflict　any　punishment。　In　some　ways　the　tricks　pleased　him；　for　they　showed　him　that　children　considered　him　one　of　themselves。　But　the　tricks　also　chagrined　him　a　little。　His　ego　was　not　above　being　pleased　with　the　belief　that　he　was　a　folk…hero　or　demi…god。　Was　this　a　way　to　treat　a　demi…god；　by　putting　tacks　on　his　chair　or　pinning　a　tail　on　him；　behind？　Yet；　as　he　thought　farther；　he　realized　that　the　two　attitudes　were　not　inpatible　or　altogether　unprecedented。　
　　That　is　a　strange　thing…to　be　a　god！　They　bring　the　fat　ox　with　the　gilded　horns；　and　at　your　altar　they　strike　him　down　With　the　pole…ax。　You　are　proud　of　the　sacrifice。　But　then　they　take　head　and　horns　and　tail　and　hide；　and　in　the　hide　they　wrap　the　entrails。　All　this　noisomeness　they　burn　before　your　altar；　and　then　go　to　feast　themselves　on　the　fat　haunches！　You　see　the　deceit；　and　you　are　angry　with　a　god's　anger。　You　gather　the　thunderbolts；　and　your　black　clouds　assemble。　But；　no；　you　think　then；　〃They　are　my　people！〃　This　year　they　are　fat　and　proud　and　insolent…but　who　would　wish　his　people　to　be　mean　and　meeching？　Next　year；　if　there　is　pestilence；　they　will　really　burn　the　ox…nay；　many　oxen！　So　you　pass　it　off；　with　only　a　little　thunder；　scarcely　noticed　in　the　pleasant　confusion　of　the　feasting。　〃I　am　not　stupid；〃　you　say　to　The　Son；　〃but　there　are　times　when　a　god　should　seem　stupid！〃　Then　you　wonder　if　you　should　have　shared　with　him　any　secret　of　godship；　but　rather　have　looked　for　a　convenient　mountain　to　pile　upon　him。　He　is　altogether　too　handy　with　a　sickle　these　days。。。。　
　　Even　you　terrible　ones　who　call　for　human　sacrifice；　you　too　must　wink！　Ah；　it　is　magnificently　horrible！　The　shrieks　of　his　wife　and　the　moans　of　the　victim　and　the　flailing　axes　of　the　killers！　There　he　lies；　covered　with　blood；　his　tongue　hanging　out；　a　picture　of　loathsome　death！　Yet　soon；　in　the　confusion　of　the　dance；　he　rises　suddenly　and　dances　with　the　others　and　the　red　mulberry　juice　mingles　with　his　sweat　and　disappears。　Then　you；　the　terrible　one；　must　be　a　wise　god　and　remember　only　the　horror　of　the　seeming　death；　though　every　child　in　the　village　knows　you　are　tricked。。。。　
　　〃No；　there　is　no　need　to　grovel　and　rub　the　face　in　the　dirt。　Merely　bow　the　head；　as　you　enter；　ever　so　slightly。〃　
　　Yet　in　the　end；　though　he　half　feared　the　test；　Ish　could　not　resist　an　experiment。　Perhaps　the　incident　of　the　hammer　had　really　meant　nothing。　He　was　curious。　
　　He　picked　the　time　carefully…late　one　morning；　when　it　was　only　a　few　minutes　before　dismissal。　He　was　preparing　himself　a　retreat；　if　things　got　too　embarrassing。　There　was　no　difficulty；　since　he　was　the　teacher；　in　bringing　a　discussion　around　to　the　point　where　he　could　put　the　question　casually　enough。　
　　〃How　was　it。　do　you　think；　that　all　these　things。。。〃　he　gestured　widely　with　his　hands；　〃how　was　it　that　the　world　happened　to　be　made？〃　
　　The　answer　came　quickly。　Weston　was　the　spokesman；　although　apparently　any　of　the　children　could　have　answered：　〃Why；　the　Americans　made　everything。〃　
　　Ish　caught　his　breath。　Yet；　immediately；　he　saw　how　the　idea　had　arisen。　After　all；　if　a　child　asked　who　made　the　houses　or　the　streets　or　the　canned　food；　any　of　the　older　ones　would　have　said　naturally　that　the　Americans　did。　He　followed　up　with　another　question。　
　　〃And　the　Americans…what　about　them？〃　
　　〃Oh；　the　Americans　were　the　old　people。〃　
　　This　time　Ish　found　it　a　little　harder　to　adjust　quickly。　In　〃the　old　people〃　he　sensed　not　merely　a　reference　to　time；　but　also　something　close　to　superstition。　〃The　old　people〃…that　had　once　meant　fairies；　people　of　the　Other…world。　That　might　be　its　meaning　now　again。　Here　was　something　he　should　work　to　counteract。　
　　〃I　was。。。〃　He　began　simply。　Then　he　paused　and　corrected　himself；　seeing　no　reason　to　use　the　past　tense。　
　　〃I　am　an　American。〃　
　　When　he　spoke；　though　they　were　the　simplest　of　words；　he　had　a　curious　feeling　of　pride　e　over　him；　as　if　flags　were　flying　and　bands　playing。　It　had　been　a　great　thing；　in　those　Old　Times；　to　be　an　American。　You　had　been　deeply　conscious　of　being　one　of　a　great　nation。　It　was　no　mere　matter　of　pride；　but　also　there　went　with　it　a　profound　sense　of　confidence　and　security　in　life；　and　a　radeship　of　millions。　Yet　now　he　had　hesitated　to　speak　in　the　present　tense。　
　　In　the　silence　of　his　pause　he　saw　the　children　looking　at　him；　and　then　suddenly　he　sensed　that　his　explanation　had　missed　fire。　He　had　merely　been　trying　to　explain　that　there　was　nothing　supernatural　in　those　old　people　who　had　been　the　Americans。　He　had　tried　merely　to　say；　〃Look　at　me；　I'm　Ish；　father　of　some　of　you；　granddad　of　one。　I've　rolled　on　the　floor　with　you。　You've　mussed　my　hair。　Yes；　I'm　only　Ish。　And　now　when　I　say；　'I'm　an　American；'　I　mean　that　there　is　nothing　supernatural　about　Americans。　They　were　only　people　too。〃　
　　This　was　what　he　had　thought　they　would　understand；　but　it　had　gone　the　other　way　round。　When　he　had　said；　〃I　am　an　American；〃　they　had　nodded　inwardly；　interpreting；　〃Yes；　naturally；　you　are　an　American。　You　have　many　strange　knowledges　which　we　simple　ones　do　not　have。　You　teach　us　reading　and　writing。　You　tell　tales　about　the　world　being　round。　You　talk　about　numbers。　You　carry　the　hammer。　Yes；　it　is　plain　that　people　like　you　made　all　the　world；　and　you　are　merely　one　who　lingers　over　from　the　Old　Times。　You　are　one　of　the　Old　People。　Yes；　naturally　you　are　an　American！〃　
　　As　he　looked　about；　almost　wildly　at　this　new　thought；　the　silence　was　deep；　and　he　saw　Joey　smiling　at　him。　It　was　a　knowing　smile；　as　if　Joey　was　saying；　〃We　two　have　something　in　mon。　I　am　like　one　of　the　Old　People　who　has　been　left　over。　I　can　read；　I　understand　those　things。　Without　being　hurt；　I　carry　the　hammer。〃　
　　Ish　was　glad　that　he　had　had　the　foresight　to　ask　his　question　just　before　noon。　There　was　nothing　he　could　muster　now；　either　for　question　or　reply。　〃School　dismissed；〃　he　said。　〃School　dismissed！〃　
　　
　　Chapter　6
　　One　late　afternoon　Ish　was　talking　with　Joey；　or　actually　they　were　continuing　Joey's　education　by　means　of　playschool。　Ish　had　collected　some　money；　and　was　teaching　Joey　a　little　about　history　and　the　old　economics。　Joey　liked　the　bright　jingly　nickels　with　the　figure　of　the　strange　humped　animal。　As　a　young　child　would　have　done　even　in　the　Old　Times；　he　preferred　the　nickels　to　the　uninteresting　bills　with　their　picture　of　a　bearded　man　who　looked　something　like　Uncle　George。　Ish　was　trying　to　find　ways　to　explain。　
　　Just　as　he　thought　he　had　put　the　point　across；　he　heard　a　strange　and　yet　old　and　familiar　sound。　He　lifted　his　head　and　waited　tensely；　mouth　open　to　listen。　It　came　again；　much　closer…the　toot…a…toot…toot　of　a　horn！　
　　〃Hey；　Em！〃　he　yelled。　〃They're　back！〃　He　jumped　up；　letting　the　bills　scatter　from　his　hand　to　the　floor。　
　　He　and　Em　and　the　children　all　came　rushing　out；　and　there　was　a　universal　running　and　yapping　of　dogs；　just　as　the　jeep　came　down　the　road。　It　was　dirty　and　travel…worn　and　banged…about；　but　it　had　got　through。　Ish　had　still　a　moment　of　tension。　Then　the　boys　jumped　out；　yelling　loudly；　obviously　alive　and　well。　A　sudden　sense　of　profound　relief　let　him　know　how　much　he　had　really　been　worrying　about　them。　
　　The　boys　stood　there；　surrounded　by　a　little　mob　of　yelling　children。　Ish　held　back；　almost　diffident。　Then　his　eyes　caught　another　movement。　There　must　be　someone　else　in　the　jeep。　Yes；　now　the　person　was　starting　to　get　out。　Ish　had　a　sharp　sensation　of　alarm；　of　resentment；　at　the　intruder。　
　　First；　as　the　head　was　thrust　out　from　the　low　door；　Ish　saw　a　bald　crown　and　a　brown　beard；　which　would　have　been　handsome　if　it　had　not　been　stained　with　tobacco　and　dirty…looking；　and　scraggly　around　the　edges　where　it　had　been　haggled　with　scissors。　The　man　stepped　out；　and　slowly　straightened　up。　
　　Ish；　almost　in　panic；　appraised　him。　A　big　fellow…tall　and　large…framed　and　heavy！　He　was　powerful；　and　yet　there　had　been　little　vigor　in　his　mo