Elmore County Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1910-1915, 1915-01-16

walk fast. They did not dream OF
walking, my grandsons, In the way
all people walk today. In truth, none
OF us knew how to walk. 1t was not
until after the plague that
learned really to walk. So it was that
the pace of the slowest was the pace
OF all, for we dared not separate Oh &C.
count of the providers. There were not
so many now Of these human beasts of
| prey. The plague had already well
diminished their numbers, but enough
still lived to be constant menace to
us. Many of the beautiful residences
were untouched by fire. yet smoking
ruins were everywhere. The providers,
too, seemed to have got over their in.
sensate desire to burn, and it was
more rarely that we saw houses fresh
ly on fire.
Several Of US secuted among the
private garages in search of motor cars
and gasoline. But in this we were I'M
successful. The first great flights from
the cities had swept all such utilities
away. Calgan, 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 drunken brute deliberately
opened fire on all of US. Luckily, he
fired wildly, and we shot him before
he had done any hurt
AT Fruitvale, still in the heart of
the magnificent residence section Of
the city, the plague again smote US.
Professor Fairmead was the victim.
Making signs to US that his mother
was not to know, he turned aside into
the grounds of beautiful mansion
He sat down forlornly on the steps of
the front veranda, and |, having lin
gered, waved him last farewell. That
night, several miles beyond 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
faculty. During the mornings march
his wife, who was walking, betrayed
the fatal symptoms, and when she
drew aside to let us go on he insisted
on leaving the motor car and remain
ing with her. There was quite a dis
cussion about this, but in the end we
gave In. 1t was just as well, tor we
knew not which ones of US, If any,
might ultimately escape.
THAT night, the second of our
march, we encamped 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 motor
car. He took with him his sister and
his mother and most of our timed pro-
visions. 1t was that day, in the after
noon, while resting by the wayside,
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 helplessly
at an elevation of two thousand feet.
What had happened could not conjec-
true, but even as we looked we saw
her bow dip down lower and lower.
Then the bulkheads of the various gas
chambers must have burst, for, quite
she fell like a plummet
to the earth. And from that day to
this have not seen another airship.
Often and often, during the next few
years, scanned the sky for them, hop
ng against hope that somewhere in
he world civilization had survived.
But 1t was not to be. What happened
with us in California must have hap
oened with everybody everywhere.
Another day, and at Niles there
we're three of US. Beyond Niles, in the
middle of the highway, we found
Wathope. The motor car had broken
Town, and there, on the rugs which
hey had spread on the ground, lay the
bodies of his sister, his mother and
himself.
"Wearied by the unusual exercise OF
walking, that night | slept
leavily. Garfield and Parsons, my last
ompanions, were dead of the plague.
If the four hundred that sought shell.