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- Джек Лондон
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- До Адама
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- Стр. 1/53
Before Adam
Pictures
!
Pictures
!
Pictures
!
Often
,
before
I
learned
,
did
I
wonder
whence
came
the
multitudes
of
pictures
that
thronged
my
dreams
;
for
they
were
pictures
the
like
of
which
I
had
never
seen
in
real
wake
-
a
-
day
life
.
They
tormented
my
childhood
,
making
of
my
dreams
a
procession
of
nightmares
and
a
little
later
convincing
me
that
I
was
different
from
my
kind
,
a
creature
unnatural
and
accursed
.
In
my
days
only
did
I
attain
any
measure
of
happiness
.
My
nights
marked
the
reign
of
fear
—
and
such
fear
!
I
make
bold
to
state
that
no
man
of
all
the
men
who
walk
the
earth
with
me
ever
suffer
fear
of
like
kind
and
degree
.
For
my
fear
is
the
fear
of
long
ago
,
the
fear
that
was
rampant
in
the
Younger
World
,
and
in
the
youth
of
the
Younger
World
.
In
short
,
the
fear
that
reigned
supreme
in
that
period
known
as
the
Mid
-
Pleistocene
.
What
do
I
mean
?
I
see
explanation
is
necessary
before
I
can
tell
you
of
the
substance
of
my
dreams
.
Otherwise
,
little
could
you
know
of
the
meaning
of
the
things
I
know
so
well
.
As
I
write
this
,
all
the
beings
and
happenings
of
that
other
world
rise
up
before
me
in
vast
phantasmagoria
,
and
I
know
that
to
you
they
would
be
rhymeless
and
reasonless
.
What
to
you
the
friendship
of
Lop
-
Ear
,
the
warm
lure
of
the
Swift
One
,
the
lust
and
the
atavism
of
Red
-
Eye
?
A
screaming
incoherence
and
no
more
.
And
a
screaming
incoherence
,
likewise
,
the
doings
of
the
Fire
People
and
the
Tree
People
,
and
the
gibbering
councils
of
the
horde
.
For
you
know
not
the
peace
of
the
cool
caves
in
the
cliffs
,
the
circus
of
the
drinking
-
places
at
the
end
of
the
day
.
You
have
never
felt
the
bite
of
the
morning
wind
in
the
tree
-
tops
,
nor
is
the
taste
of
young
bark
sweet
in
your
mouth
.
It
would
be
better
,
I
dare
say
,
for
you
to
make
your
approach
,
as
I
made
mine
,
through
my
childhood
.
As
a
boy
I
was
very
like
other
boys
—
in
my
waking
hours
.
It
was
in
my
sleep
that
I
was
different
.
From
my
earliest
recollection
my
sleep
was
a
period
of
terror
.
Rarely
were
my
dreams
tinctured
with
happiness
.
As
a
rule
,
they
were
stuffed
with
fear
—
and
with
a
fear
so
strange
and
alien
that
it
had
no
ponderable
quality
.
No
fear
that
I
experienced
in
my
waking
life
resembled
the
fear
that
possessed
me
in
my
sleep
.
It
was
of
a
quality
and
kind
that
transcended
all
my
experiences
.
For
instance
,
I
was
a
city
boy
,
a
city
child
,
rather
,
to
whom
the
country
was
an
unexplored
domain
.
Yet
I
never
dreamed
of
cities
;
nor
did
a
house
ever
occur
in
any
of
my
dreams
.
Nor
,
for
that
matter
,
did
any
of
my
human
kind
ever
break
through
the
wall
of
my
sleep
.
I
,
who
had
seen
trees
only
in
parks
and
illustrated
books
,
wandered
in
my
sleep
through
interminable
forests
.
And
further
,
these
dream
trees
were
not
a
mere
blur
on
my
vision
.
They
were
sharp
and
distinct
.
I
was
on
terms
of
practised
intimacy
with
them
.
I
saw
every
branch
and
twig
;
I
saw
and
knew
every
different
leaf
.
Well
do
I
remember
the
first
time
in
my
waking
life
that
I
saw
an
oak
tree
.
As
I
looked
at
the
leaves
and
branches
and
gnarls
,
it
came
to
me
with
distressing
vividness
that
I
had
seen
that
same
kind
of
tree
many
and
countless
times
in
my
sleep
.
So
I
was
not
surprised
,
still
later
on
in
my
life
,
to
recognize
instantly
,
the
first
time
I
saw
them
,
trees
such
as
the
spruce
,
the
yew
,
the
birch
,
and
the
laurel
.
I
had
seen
them
all
before
,
and
was
seeing
them
even
then
,
every
night
,
in
my
sleep
.
