Before Adam by Jack London

dropped in the excitement close to the base of the

bluff. He was wailing dolefully. His mother dashed

out; he sprang to meet her and held on tightly as she

scrambled back into the cave.

I was all alone. The populous open space had of a

sudden become deserted. I sat down forlornly and

whimpered. I could not understand. Why had the Folk

run away from me? In later time, when I came to know

their ways, I was to learn. When they saw me dashing

out of the forest at top speed they concluded that I

was being pursued by some hunting animal. By my

unceremonious approach I had stampeded them.

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As I sat and watched the cave-mouths I became aware

that the Folk were watching me. Soon they were

thrusting their heads out. A little later they were

calling back and forth to one another. In the hurry

and confusion it had happened that all had not gained

their own caves. Some of the young ones had sought

refuge in other caves. The mothers did not call for

them by name, because that was an invention we had not

yet made. All were nameless. The mothers uttered

querulous, anxious cries, which were recognized by the

young ones. Thus, had my mother been there calling to

me, I should have recognized her voice amongst the

voices of a thousand mothers, and in the same way would

she have recognized mine amongst a thousand.

This calling back and forth continued for some time,

but they were too cautious to come out of their caves

and descend to the ground. Finally one did come. He

was destined to play a large part in my life, and for

that matter he already played a large part in the lives

of all the members of the horde. He it was whom I

shall call Red-Eye in the pages of this history–so

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called because of his inflamed eyes, the lids being

always red, and, by the peculiar effect they produced,

seeming to advertise the terrible savagery of him. The

color of his soul was red.

He was a monster in all ways. Physically he was a

giant. He must have weighed one hundred and seventy

pounds. He was the largest one of our kind I ever saw.

Nor did I ever see one of the Fire People so large as

he, nor one of the Tree People. Sometimes, when in the

newspapers I happen upon descriptions of our modern

bruisers and prizefighters, I wonder what chance the

best of them would have had against him.

I am afraid not much of a chance. With one grip of his

iron fingers and a pull, he could have plucked a

muscle, say a biceps, by the roots, clear out of their

bodies. A back-handed, loose blow of his fist could

have smashed their skulls like egg-shells. With a sweep

of his wicked feet (or hind-hands) he could have

disembowelled them. A twist could have broken their

necks, and I know that with a single crunch of his jaws

he could have pierced, at the same moment, the great

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vein of the throat in front and the spinal marrow at

the back.

He could spring twenty feet horizontally from a sitting

position. He was abominably hairy. It was a matter of

pride with us to be not very hairy. But he was covered

with hair all over, on the inside of the arms as well

as the outside, and even the ears themselves. The only

places on him where the hair did not grow were the

soles of his hands and feet and beneath his eyes. He

was frightfully ugly, his ferocious grinning mouth and

huge down-hanging under-lip being but in harmony with

his terrible eyes.

This was Red-Eye. And right gingerly he crept out or

his cave and descended to the ground. Ignoring me, he

proceeded to reconnoitre. He bent forward from the

hips as he walked; and so far forward did he bend, and

so long were his arms, that with every step he touched

the knuckles of his hands to the ground on either side

of him. He was awkward in the semi-erect position of

walking that he assumed, and he really touched his

knuckles to the ground in order to balance himself.

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But oh, I tell you he could run on all-fours! Now this

was something at which we were particularly awkward.

Furthermore, it was a rare individual among us who

balanced himself with his knuckles when walking. Such

an individual was an atavism, and Red-Eye was an even

greater atavism.

That is what he was–an atavism. We were in the

process of changing our tree-life to life on the

ground. For many generations we had been going through

this change, and our bodies and carriage had likewise

changed. But Red-Eye had reverted to the more

primitive tree-dwelling type. Perforce, because he was

born in our horde he stayed with us; but in actuality

he was an atavism and his place was elsewhere.

Very circumspect and very alert, he moved here and

there about the open space, peering through the vistas

among the trees and trying to catch a glimpse of the

hunting animal that all suspected had pursued me. And

while he did this, taking no notice of me, the Folk

crowded at the cave-mouths and watched.

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At last he evidently decided that there was no danger

lurking about. He was returning from the head of the

run-way, from where he had taken a peep down at the

drinking-place. His course brought him near, but still

he did not notice me. He proceeded casually on his way

until abreast of me, and then, without warning and with

incredible swiftness, he smote me a buffet on the head.

I was knocked backward fully a dozen feet before I

fetched up against the ground, and I remember,

half-stunned, even as the blow was struck, hearing the

wild uproar of clucking and shrieking laughter that

arose from the caves. It was a great joke–at least in

that day; and right heartily the Folk appreciated it.

Thus was I received into the horde. Red-Eye paid no

further attention to me, and I was at liberty to

whimper and sob to my heart’s content. Several of the

women gathered curiously about me, and I recognized

them. I had encountered them the preceding year when

my mother had taken me to the hazelnut canyons.

But they quickly left me alone, being replaced by a

dozen curious and teasing youngsters. They formed a

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circle around me, pointing their fingers, making faces,

and poking and pinching me. I was frightened, and for

a time I endured them, then anger got the best of me

and I sprang tooth and nail upon the most audacious one

of them–none other than Lop-Ear himself. I have so

named him because he could prick up only one of his

ears. The other ear always hung limp and without

movement. Some accident had injured the muscles and

deprived him of the use of it.

He closed with me, and we went at it for all the world

like a couple of small boys fighting. We scratched and

bit, pulled hair, clinched, and threw each other down.

I remember I succeeded in getting on him what in my

college days I learned was called a half-Nelson. This

hold gave me the decided advantage. But I did not

enjoy it long. He twisted up one leg, and with the

foot (or hind-hand) made so savage an onslaught upon my

abdomen as to threaten to disembowel me. I had to

release him in order to save myself, and then we went

at it again.

Lop-Ear was a year older than I, but I was several

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times angrier than he, and in the end he took to his

heels. I chased him across the open and down a run-way

to the river. But he was better acquainted with the

locality and ran along the edge of the water and up

another run-way. He cut diagonally across the open

space and dashed into a wide-mouthed cave.

Before I knew it, I had plunged after him into the

darkness. The next moment I was badly frightened. I

had never been in a cave before. I began to whimper

and cry out. Lop-Ear chattered mockingly at me, and,

springing upon me unseen, tumbled me over. He did not

risk a second encounter, however, and took himself off.

I was between him and the entrance, and he did not pass

me; yet he seemed to have gone away. I listened, but

could get no clew as to where he was. This puzzled me,

and when I regained the outside I sat down to watch.

He never came out of the entrance, of that I was

certain; yet at the end of several minutes he chuckled

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