The Washington herald., 1914-05-03

OF the beautiful residences were un-
touched by fire, yet smoking runs were
everywhere. The providers. too, seemed
to have got over their insensate desire to
burn. and II was more rarely that we
saw houses freshly on fire.
Several of us secuted among the privat.
| garages In search Of motorcars and gaso-
line But in this we were unsuccessful
The first great flights from the cities had
swept all such utilities away. Calxan. a
fine young man. was lost in this work.
He was shot by providers while crossing
a lawn. Yet this was our only casualty
though once a drunken brute deliberate,v
opened fire on all OF US. Luckily. he FREE.
wildly and we shot him before he hal
done any hurt.
AT FruitvaIe. still In the heart Of the
ma agnincent residence section OF the city
the plague again smote US Prof. Fair
mead was the victim. Making signs to
US that his mother was not to- know.
he turned aside into the grounds Of a
| beautiful mansion. He sat down for
! lornly on the steps Of the front yeranda,
and having fingered. waved him a last
farewell That night. several miles be-
yond Fruitvale and still in the city. We
made camp. And that night We shifted
camp twice to get away from our dead.
In the morning there were thirty of us.
/ shall never forget the president Of the
o
! wife. who was walking. betrayed the
fatal symptoms, and when she drew
aside to let US go on. he insisted on leav-
ing the motorcar and remaining with
her. There was quite a discussion about
this. but in the end we gave in. II was
Just well. for We knew not which ones
of us. II any. might ultimately escape.
That night. the second Of our march.
We camped beyond Haywards In the first
stretches of country. And in the morning
there were eleven of US that lived. Also.
during the night. Wathope. the professor
with the wounded leg. deserted US In
the motorcar. He took with him his
sister and his mother and most Of our
timed provisions. II was that day. in
the afternoon, while resting by the way
side. that | saw the last airship shall
ever see. The smoke was much thinner
here in the country. and I first sighted
the ship drifting and veering helpIessly
at an elevation of 1000 feet. What had
happened / could not conjecture but
even as we looked we saw her bow dip
down lower and lower. Then the bulk
| heads of the various gas chambers must
have burst, for. quite perpendicular she
fell like a plummet to the earth. And
from that day to this I have not seen
another airship- Often and often, during
the next few years, I scanned the sky
for them. hoping against hope that
somewhere IN the world civilization had
survived. But 1t was not to be- What
happened with US in California must have
happened with everybody everywherr
Another day. and at Niles there were
three of US. Beyond Miles. in the middle
OF the highway, We found wathope
The motorcar had broken down, and
there, on the rugs which they had
spread on the ground. lay the bodies Of
his sister. his mother. and himself.
''Wesried by the unusual exercise Of
continual walking. that night slept
heavily. In the morning was alone In
the world Canheld and Parsans. nv
last companions, were dead Of the
plague. OF the 100 that sought shelter in
the Chemistry Building. and OF the
forty-seven that began the march I alone
remained-I and the Shetland pony Why
this should be so there Is no explaining. I
did not catch the plague, that is all.
was immune. | was merely the one
lucky man in a million. OF. rather. in
several millions. for the proportion was
at least that
For two days sheltered in a pleasant
grove where there had been no deaths.
In those days. while badly depressed and
believing that my turn would come al
any moment, nevertheless rested and
recuperated So did the pony. And on
the third day. putting what small store
of tinned provisions possessed on the
pony's back, I started on across a very
lonely lard. Not live man. woman. or
child. did l encounter. though the dead
were everywhere. Food however. was
abundant. The land then was not as il
Is now. II was all cleared of trees and
brush. and 1t was cultivated. The food
for millions of mouths was growing.
ripening. and going to waste From the
fields and orchards gathered vesa.
tables. fruits. and berries. Around the
deserted farmhouses l got eggs and
caught chickens And frequently / found
supplies of timed provisions in the store.
rooms.
strange thing was what was taking
pace with all the domestic animals The
chickens and ducks were the first 10 he
destroyed. while the pigs we've the hrst
10 go Wild followed by the cats Nor
were the dogs long in adapting them
selves TO the changed conditions There
was veritable plague of dogs. They
deVoured the corpses. barked and howIsd
during the nights. and in the daytim,
skunk about in the distance As tn. tIn,e
went by. I noticed a change in their h.
havior. At first they were apart from
one another. very suspicious and YER
prone to fight But after a not very Iorc
Vhhe they began to come together and
run IN packs. The dog. You see aIvsvs
was social animal. and this was true
peiore ever ne came to be domestiCatAd
~ man. In the last days Of the world
oetore the plague. there were many
many very different kinds Of dors-dogz
without hair and dogs with warm fur
dogs so small that they would maxi
scarcely mouthful for other dogs that
were as large as mountain lions. Well
all the small dogs, and the weak types
were killed by their fellows. Also the
very large ones were not adapted for the
wild life and bred out As result. the
many different kinds OF dogs disappeared
and remained. running in packs the me-
dium-sized wolhsh dogs that you know
today"
BUT the cats don't run in packs, Gun
ger, Hoo-Hoo objected
The cat was never a social animal
AS one writer in the nineteenth century
sald' the cat walks by himself He al
ways walked by himself. from before
the time he was tanned by man, down
through the long ages Of domestication,
to today. when once more he Is wild.
The horses also went wild and all
the fine breeds We had degenerated into
the small mustang you know today. The
cows likewise went wild, as did the pig
cons and the sheep. And that a few Of
the chickens survived you know your
self. But the wild chicken of today Is
quite a different thing from the chickens
We had in those days"
In Part ", which will appear in the
magazine section of this paper next Sun
day old Granser will bring his narrs-
tive to a close by telling what hap