gs.earthabides-第67部分

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new　nothing。　He　would　cry　out；　〃Go　south！〃　or　〃Go　beyond　the　hills！〃　Then　the　young　men　were　pleased　and　went　off。　Ish　sometimes　feared　that　they　would　e　back　and　pinch　him　because　they　had　not　found　good　hunting；　but　they　never　did。　
　　During　those　years；　there　were　days　when　he　thought　clearly；　and　other　days　when　a　fog　seemed　to　hang　in　all　the　corners　of　his　brain。　But　one　day　when　they　came　to　ask　him　a　question　and　he　was　clear…minded；　he　realized　that　he　must　have　bee　a　god；　or　at　least　an　oracle　by　which　a　god　spoke。　Then　he　remembered　that　time　long　ago　when　the　children　had　been　afraid　to　carry　the　hammer　and　when　they　had　nodded　knowingly　at　his　saying　he　was　an　American。　Yet　he　had　never　wished　to　be　a　god。　
　　One　day　Ish　sat　on　the　hillside　in　the　sun；　and　after　a　while　he　looked　at　his　left　side；　and　saw　that　no　one　sat　there。　Then　he　realized　that　at　last　Ezra；　the　good　helper；　was　gone；　and　that　no　one　would　ever　sit　there　beside　him　on　the　hillside　again。　At　that　thought　he　gripped　the　handle　of　the　hammer；　which　in　these　days　was　very　heavy　for　him　to　lift；　even　with　both　hands。　
　　〃It　is　called　a　single…jack；〃　he　thought；　〃but　now　it　is　too　heavy　for　my　one　hand。　Yet　now　it　has　bee　the　symbol　of　a　tribal　god；　and　it　is　still　with　me；　though　all　the　others；　even　Ezra；　have　gone。〃　
　　Then；　because　the　shock　of　that　sudden　knowledge　about　Ezra　had　made　him　think　and　see　more　clearly；　he　looked　alertly　about　him；　and　observed　that　he　was　sitting　on　the　slope　of　the　hill　where　many　years　before　there　had　been　a　neat　garden　and　was　now　only　a　trampled　place　of　tall　grass　in　the　midst　of　overgrown　bushes　and　high　trees；　with　a　half…ruined　house　standing　up　from　among　the　tangle。　
　　Then　he　looked　at　the　sun；　and　saw　that　it　was　in　the　east；　not　in　the　west；　as　he　had　thought　it　would　be。　Also；　it　was　far　to　the　north；　so　that　the　season　must　be　nearly　mid…summer；　whereas　he　had　thought　it　should　be　early　spring。　Yes；　in　all　those　years；　as　he　had　sat　on　the　hillside；　he　had　lost　hold　of　time　itself；　so　that　the　swinging　of　the　sun　from　east　to　west　with　the　passing　of　the　day　seemed　much　the　same　as　the　swinging　of　the　sun　from　north　to　south　with　the　passing　of　the　seasons；　and　he　had　lost　track　of　them　both。　This　thought　made　him　feel　very　old　and　very　sad。　
　　Perhaps　that　sadness　brought　back　to　him　the　thought　of　other　sadness　also；　and　he　thought：　
　　〃Yes；　Em　is　gone；　and　Joey；　and　even　Ezra；　my　helper；　is　gone　now。〃　
　　When　he　thus　recalled　all　that　had　happened；　and　his　loneliness；　he　began　to　cry　gently；　for　he　was　an　old　man；　and　he　could　not　control　what　he　did。　And　he　thought　to　himself；　〃Yes；　they　are　all　gone！　I　am　the　last　American！〃　
　　End　of　the　second　inter…chapter　called　Quick　Years。
　　
　　3
　　The　Last　American
　　'Tis　merry；　'tis　merry　in　good　greenwood。　
　　…　Old　Song
　　
　　Chapter　1
　　Perhaps　it　was　that　same　day　or　perhaps　it　was　only　that　same　summer　or　perhaps　even　it　was　another　year。。。。　When　Ish　looked　up；　he　saw；　very　clearly；　a　young　man　standing　in　front　of　him。　The　young　man　wore　a　neat…enough　pair　of　blue　jeans　with　copper　rivets　shining　brightly；　and　yet　over　his　shoulders　he　wore　a　tawny　hide　with　sharp　claws　dangling　from　it。　In　his　hand　he　held　a　strong　bow；　and　over　his　shoulder　was　a　quiver　with　the　feathered　ends　of　arrows　sticking　from　it。　Ish　blinked；　for　in　his　old　eyes　the　sunshine　was　strong。　
　　〃Who　are　you？〃　said　Ish。　
　　The　young　man　answered　respectfully；　〃I　am　Jack；　Ish；　as　indeed　you　yourself　well　know。〃　
　　The　way　he　said　〃Ish〃　did　not　indicate　that　he　was　trying　to　be　unduly　familiar　with　an　old　man；　thus　calling　him　by　a　nickname；　but　rather　it　carried　something　of　great　respect　and　even　of　awe；　and　as　if　〃Ish〃　stood　for　much　more　than　merely　the　name　of　an　old　man。　
　　But　Ish　himself　was　confused；　and　he　squinted；　peering　more　carefully；　because　at　short　distances　he　no　longer　saw　clearly。　But　he　was　sure　that　Jack　should　have　dark　hair；　or　perhaps　turned　somewhat　gray　by　now；　and　this　one　who　called　himself　Jack　had　long　wavy　yellow　hair。　
　　〃You　should　not　make　jokes　with　an　old　man；〃　said　Ish。　〃Jack　is　my　oldest　son；　and　I　would　recognize　him。　He　has　dark　hair；　and　he　is　older　than　you。〃　
　　The　young　man　laughed；　but　politely；　and　said；　〃You　are　talking；　Ish；　of　my　grandfather；　as　indeed　you　yourself　well　know。〃　Again　the　way　in　which　he　said　〃Ish〃　had　a　certain　strange　sound　to　it；　and　now　Ish　noticed　also　the　strangeness　of　his　other　repeated　words；　〃as　indeed　you　yourself　well　know。〃　
　　〃Are　you　of　the　First　Ones？〃　Ish　asked。　〃Or　of　the　Others？〃　
　　〃Of　the　First　Ones；〃　he　said。　
　　Then；　as　Ish　still　looked；　he　was　puzzled　that　the　young　man；　who　was　certainly　not　a　child；　was　carrying　a　bow　instead　of　a　rifle。　〃Why　do　you　not　have　a　rifle？〃　he　asked。　
　　〃Rifles　are　good　for　playthings！〃　the　young　man　said；　and　he　laughed；　a　little　scornfully　perhaps。　〃You　cannot　be　sure　of　a　rifle；　as　indeed　you　yourself；　Ish；　well　know。　Sometimes　the　rifle　works；　and　it　makes　the　big　noise；　but　other　times　you　pull　the　trigger；　and　it　only　goes　'click。'〃　Here　he　snapped　his　fingers。　〃So　you　cannot　use　the　rifles　for　real　hunting；　although　the　older　men　say　that　this　was　not　so　in　the　long　past　years。　But　now　we　use　the　arrow　because　it　is　sure；　and　never　refuses　to　fly　and　besides；〃　here　the　young　man　held　himself　proudly；　〃besides；　it　is　a　matter　of　strength　and　skill　to　shoot　with　the　bow…but　anyone；　they　say；　could　shoot　with　a　rifle；　as　you　yourself；　Ish；　well　know。〃　
　　〃Let　me　see　an　arrow；〃　said　Ish。　
　　The　young　man　took　an　arrow　from　the　quiver；　and　looked　at　it；　and　then　handed　it　across。　
　　〃That　is　a　good　arrow；〃　he　said。　〃I　made　it　myself。〃　
　　Ish　looked　at　the　arrow　and　felt　the　weight　of　it。　This　was　no　plaything　for　a　child。　The　shaft　was　nearly　a　yard　long；　split　cleanly　from　a　billet　of　flawless　straight…grained　wood；　and　then　rounded　and　smoothed。　It　was　well　feathered；　with　pinions　of　some　kind；　although　Ish　could　not　see　well　enough　to　know　what　bird　had　yielded　the　feathers。　By　feeling；　however；　he　could　tell　that　they　were　arranged　carefully　so　that　the　arrow　in　flight　would　spin　like　a　rifle…bullet；　and　thus　keep　its　true　course　and　carry　farther。　
　　Then　he　observed　the　arrowhead；　again　more　by　feel　than　by　sight。　The　arrowhead　was　very　sharp　both　at　the　point　and　along　the　edges。　Ish　nearly　pricked　his　thumb。　It　had　the　bumpy　yet　slick　feel　which　told　him　that　it　was　of　hammered　metal。　Though　he　could　not　see　very　clearly；　he　made　the　color　out　as　silvery…white。　
　　〃What　is　that　made　of？〃　he　asked。　
　　〃It　is　from　one　of　the　little　round　things。　They　have　faces　on　them。　The　old　men　have　a　name　for　them；　but　I　do　not　remember　exactly。　It　is　something　like　corns。〃　
　　The　young　man　paused；　as　if　to　be　told　the　right　word；　but　when　he　had　no　reply；　he　went　on　again；　being　obviously　eager　to　show　off　his　knowledge　about　arrowheads。　
　　〃We　find　these　little　round　things　in　the　old　buildings。　Often　there　are　many…many…of　them　in　the　boxes　and　drawers。　Sometimes　they　are　rolled　up　together　in　bundles　like　short　round　sticks；　but　heavier　than　sticks。　Some　are　red　and　some　are　white；　like　this　one；　and　there　are　two　kinds　of　the　white。　The　one　kind　of　white…the　one　that　has　the　picture　of　the　hump…backed　bull…we　do　not　use　those　because　they　are　harder　to　pound。〃　
　　Ish　considered；　and　thought　that　he　understood。　
　　〃And　this　white　one　here？〃　he　asked。　〃Was　there　a　relief…picture…on　this　one？〃　
　　The　young　man　took　the　arrow　from　Ish；　and　looked　at　it；　and　then　handed　it　back。　
　　〃They　all　have　pictures；〃　he　said。　〃But　I　was　looking　to　see　if　I　could　still　make　out　what　picture　was　on　this　one。　It　has　not　quite　all　gone　because　of　the　hammering。　This　was　one　of　the　littlest　ones；　and　it　had　the　picture　of　the　woman　with　the　wings　growing　out　of　her　head。　Some　of　them　have　pictures　of　hawks…but　not　real　hawks。〃　The　young　man　was　talking　very　happily。　〃Others　have　men；　at　least；　they　look　like　men…one　with　a　beard；　and　one　with　long　hair　hanging　behind　him　and　another　with　a　strong…looking　face；　without　a　beard　and　with　short　hair；　and　heavy…jawed。〃　
　　〃And　who…who　do　you　think…were　all　these　men？〃　
　　The　young　man　glanced　both　ways；　as　if　a　little　nervous。　
　　〃These…oh；　these…yes！　These；　we　think…as　you　yourself；　Ish；　well　know…these　were　the　Old　Ones　that　were　before　our　Old　Ones！〃　
　　When　there　was　no　thunder　from　heaven　and　when　the　young　man　could　see　that　Ish　was　not　displeased；　he　went　on：　
　　〃Yes；　that　must　be　it…as　you　yourself；　Ish；　well　know。　These　men；　and　the　hawks；　and　the　bull！　Perhaps　the　woman　with　the　wings　growing　from　her　head　sprang　from　the　marriage　of　a　hawk　and　a　woman。　But；　however　it　is；　they　do　not　seem　to　mind　our　taking　their　pictures　and　hammering　them　up　for　arrowheads。　I　have　wondered　about　it。　Perhaps　they　are　too　great　to　care　about　little　things；　or　perhaps　they　did　their　work　a　long　time　ago　and　have　now　grown　old　and　weak。　
　　He　stopped　talking；　but　Ish　could　see　that　he　was　pleased　with　himself；　and　liked　to　talk；　and　was　thinking　quickly　of　something　more　to　say。　He；　at　least；　had　imagination。　
　　〃Yes；〃　the　young　man　continued；　〃I　have　an　idea。　Our　Old　Ones…they　were　the　Americans…made　the　houses　and　bridges　and　the　little　round　things　that　we　hammer　out　for　arrowheads。　But　those　others…the　Old　Ones　of　the　Old　Ones…perhaps　they　made　the　hills　and　the　sun；　and　the　Americans　themselves。〃　
　　Then；　though　it　was　a　cheap　trick　to　play　on　the　young　man；　Ish　could　not　resist　talking　in　double　meaning。　
　　〃Yes；〃　he　said；　〃I　have　heard　it　said　that　those　older　Old　Ones　produced　the　Americans…but　I　rather　doubt　that　they　made　the　hills　and　the　sun。〃　
　　Though　he　could　not　have　understood；　perhaps　the　young　man　caught　the　irony　in　the　tone；　and　so　said　nothing。　
　　〃But；　go　on；〃　Ish　continued　then。　〃Tell　me　more　about　the　arrowheads　themselves。　I　am　not　interested　in　your　cosmogony。〃　He　used　the　last　word　in　good…humored　malice；　knowing　that　the　other　would　not　understand　it；　but　would　be　impressed　by　its　length　and　strange　sound。　
　　〃Yes；　about　the　arrowheads；〃　the　young　man　said；　hesitating　a　moment