Before Adam by Jack London

screaming and the sound of blows. He is beating his

wife.

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At first an awed silence comes upon us. But as the

blows and screams continue we break out into an insane

gibbering of helpless rage. It is plain that the men

resent Red-Eye’s actions, but they are too afraid of

him. The blows cease, and a low groaning dies away,

while we chatter among ourselves and the sad twilight

creeps upon us.

We, to whom most happenings were jokes, never laughed

during Red-Eye’s wife-beatings. We knew too well the

tragedy of them. On more than one morning, at the base

of the cliff, did we find the body of his latest wife.

He had tossed her there, after she had died, from his

cave-mouth. He never buried his dead. The task of

carrying away the bodies, that else would have polluted

our abiding-place, he left to the horde. We usually

flung them into the river below the last

drinking-place.

Not alone did Red-Eye murder his wives, but he also

murdered for his wives, in order to get them. When he

wanted a new wife and selected the wife of another man,

he promptly killed that man. Two of these murders I saw

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myself. The whole horde knew, but could do nothing.

We had not yet developed any government, to speak of,

inside the horde. We had certain customs and visited

our wrath upon the unlucky ones who violated those

customs. Thus, for example, the individual who defiled

a drinking-place would be attacked by every onlooker,

while one who deliberately gave a false alarm was the

recipient of much rough usage at our hands. But Red-Eye

walked rough-shod over all our customs, and we so

feared him that we were incapable of the collective

action necessary to punish him.

It was during the sixth winter in our cave that Lop-Ear

and I discovered that we were really growing up. From

the first it had been a squeeze to get in through the

entrance-crevice. This had had its advantages,

however. It had prevented the larger Folk from taking

our cave away from us. And it was a most desirable

cave, the highest on the bluff, the safest, and in

winter the smallest and warmest.

To show the stage of the mental development of the

Folk, I may state that it would have been a simple

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thing for some of them to have driven us out and

enlarged the crevice-opening. But they never thought

of it. Lop-Ear and I did not think of it either until

our increasing size compelled us to make an

enlargement. This occurred when summer was well along

and we were fat with better forage. We worked at the

crevice in spells, when the fancy struck us.

At first we dug the crumbling rocks away with our

fingers, until our nails got sore, when I accidentally

stumbled upon the idea of using a piece of wood on the

rock. This worked well. Also it worked woe. One

morning early, we had scratched out of the wall quite a

heap of fragments. I gave the heap a shove over the

lip of the entrance. The next moment there came up

from below a howl of rage. There was no need to look.

We knew the voice only too well. The rubbish had

descended upon Red-Eye.

We crouched down in the cave in consternation. A

minute later he was at the entrance, peering in at us

with his inflamed eyes and raging like a demon. But he

was too large. He could not get in to us. Suddenly he

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went away. This was suspicious. By all we knew of

Folk nature he should have remained and had out his

rage. I crept to the entrance and peeped down. I could

see him just beginning to mount the bluff again. In

one hand he carried a long stick. Before I could

divine his plan, he was back at the entrance and

savagely jabbing the stick in at us.

His thrusts were prodigious. They could have

disembowelled us. We shrank back against the

side-walls, where we were almost out of range. But by

industrious poking he got us now and again–cruel,

scraping jabs with the end of the stick that raked off

the hide and hair. When we screamed with the hurt, he

roared his satisfaction and jabbed the harder.

I began to grow angry. I had a temper of my own in

those days, and pretty considerable courage, too,

albeit it was largely the courage of the cornered rat.

I caught hold of the stick with my hands, but such was

his strength that he jerked me into the crevice. He

reached for me with his long arm, and his nails tore my

flesh as I leaped back from the clutch and gained the

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comparative safety of the side-wall.

He began poking again, and caught me a painful blow on

the shoulder. Beyond shivering with fright and yelling

when he was hit, Lop-Ear did nothing. I looked for a

stick with which to jab back, but found only the end of

a branch, an inch through and a foot long. I threw

this at Red-Eye. It did no damage, though he howled

with a sudden increase of rage at my daring to strike

back. He began jabbing furiously. I found a fragment

of rock and threw it at him, striking him on the chest.

This emboldened me, and, besides, I was now as angry as

he, and had lost all fear. I ripped fragment of rock

from the wall. The piece must have weighed two or

three pounds. With my strength I slammed it full into

Red-Eye’s face. It nearly finished him. He staggered

backward, dropping his stick, and almost fell off the

cliff.

He was a ferocious sight. His face was covered with

blood, and he was snarling and gnashing his fangs like

a wild boar. He wiped the blood from his eyes, caught

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sight of me, and roared with fury. His stick was gone,

so he began ripping out chunks of crumbling rock and

throwing them in at me. This supplied me with

ammunition. I gave him as good as he sent, and better;

for he presented a good target, while he caught only

glimpses of me as I snuggled against the side-wall.

Suddenly he disappeared again. From the lip of the

cave I saw him descending. All the horde had gathered

outside and in awed silence was looking on. As he

descended, the more timid ones scurried for their

caves. I could see old Marrow-Bone tottering along as

fast as he could. Red-Eye sprang out from the wall and

finished the last twenty feet through the air. He

landed alongside a mother who was just beginning the

ascent. She screamed with fear, and the two-year-old

child that was clinging to her released its grip and

rolled at Red-Eye’s feet. Both he and the mother

reached for it, and he got it. The next moment the

frail little body had whirled through the air and

shattered against the wall. The mother ran to it,

caught it up in her arms, and crouched over it crying.

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Red-Eye started over to pick up the stick. Old

Marrow-Bone had tottered into his way. Red-Eye’s great

hand shot out and clutched the old man by the back of

the neck. I looked to see his neck broken. His body

went limp as he surrendered himself to his fate.

Red-Eye hesitated a moment, and Marrow-Bone, shivering

terribly, bowed his head and covered his face with his

crossed arms. Then Red-Eye slammed him face-downward

to the ground. Old Marrow-Bone did not struggle. He

lay there crying with the fear of death. I saw the

Hairless One, out in the open space, beating his chest

and bristling, but afraid to come forward. And then,

in obedience to some whim of his erratic spirit,

Red-Eye let the old man alone and passed on and

recovered the stick.

He returned to the wall and began to climb up.

Lop-Ear, who was shivering and peeping alongside of me,

scrambled back into the cave. It was plain that

Red-Eye was bent upon murder. I was desperate and

angry and fairly cool. Running back and forth along

the neighboring ledges, I gathered a heap of rocks at

the cave-entrance. Red-Eye was now several yards

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beneath me, concealed for the moment by an out-jut of

the cliff. As he climbed, his head came into view, and

I banged a rock down. It missed, striking the wall and

shattering; but the flying dust and grit filled his

eyes and he drew back out of view.

A chuckling and chattering arose from the horde, that

played the part of audience. At last there was one of

the Folk who dared to face Red-Eye. As their approval

and acclamation arose on the air, Red-Eye snarled down

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