Before adam by jack london

Before Adam
By Jack London
1906

“These are our ancestors, and their history is our
History. Remember that as surely as we one day swung
Down out of the trees and walked upright, just as
Surely, on a far earlier day, did we crawl up out of
The sea and achieve our first adventure on land.”

CHAPTER I

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 n my sleep. So I was not
Surprised, still later on in my life, to recognize