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The Plague, Pestilence & Apocalypse MEGAPACK™

Page 102

by Robert Reed


  strong servant of man, which was of old his slave and which some

  day will be his slave again .

  “Quite a different thing is the alphabet . It is what enables me to

  know the meaning of fine markings, whereas you boys know only

  rude picture-writing . In that dry cave on Telegraph Hill, where you

  see me often go when the tribe is down by the sea, I have stored many

  books . In them is great wisdom . Also, with them, I have placed a key

  to the alphabet, so that one who knows picture-writing may also

  know print . Some day men will read again; and then, if no accident

  has befallen my cave, they will know that Professor James Howard

  Smith once lived and saved for them the knowledge of the ancients .

  “There is another little device that men inevitably will rediscover .

  It is called gunpowder . It was what enabled us to kill surely and at

  long distances . Certain things which are found in the ground, when

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  combined in the right proportions, will make this gunpowder . What

  these things are, I have forgotten, or else I never knew . But I wish

  I did know . Then would I make powder, and then would I certainly

  kill Cross-Eyes and rid the land of superstition—”

  “After I am man-grown I am going to give Cross-Eyes all the

  goats, and meat, and skins I can get, so that he’ll teach me to be a

  doctor,” Hoo-Hoo asserted . “And when I know, I’ll make everybody

  else sit up and take notice . They’ll get down in the dirt to me, you

  bet .”

  The old man nodded his head solemnly, and murmured:

  “Strange it is to hear the vestiges and remnants of the compli-

  cated Aryan speech falling from the lips of a filthy little skin-clad

  savage . All the world is topsy-turvy . And it has been topsy-turvy

  ever since the plague .”

  “You won’t make me sit up,” Hare-Lip boasted to the would-be

  medicine-man . “If I paid you for a sending of the death-stick and

  it didn’t work, I’d bust in your head—understand, you Hoo-Hoo,

  you?”

  “I’m going to get Granser to remember this here gunpowder

  stuff,” Edwin said softly, “and then I’ll have you all on the run . You,

  Hare-Lip, will do my fighting for me and get my meat for me, and

  you, Hoo-Hoo, will send the death-stick for me and make everybody

  afraid . And if I catch Hare-Lip trying to bust your head, Hoo-Hoo,

  I’ll fix him with that same gunpowder. Granser ain’t such a fool as

  you think, and I’m going to listen to him and some day I’ll be boss

  over the whole bunch of you .”

  The old man shook his head sadly, and said:

  “The gunpowder will come . Nothing can stop it—the same old

  story over and over. Man will increase, and men will fight. The gun-

  powder will enable men to kill millions of men, and in this way

  only, by fire and blood, will a new civilization, in some remote day,

  be evolved. And of what profit will it be? Just as the old civilization

  passed, so will the new. It may take fifty thousand years to build,

  but it will pass . All things pass . Only remain cosmic force and mat-

  ter, ever in flux, ever acting and reacting and realizing the eternal

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  types—the priest, the soldier, and the king . Out of the mouths of

  babes comes the wisdom of all the ages. Some will fight, some will

  rule, some will pray; and all the rest will toil and suffer sore while on

  their bleeding carcasses is reared again, and yet again, without end,

  the amazing beauty and surpassing wonder of the civilized state . It

  were just as well that I destroyed those cave-stored books—whether

  they remain or perish, all their old truths will be discovered, their

  old lies lived and handed down. What is the profit—”

  Hare-Lip leaped to his feet, giving a quick glance at the pasturing

  goats and the afternoon sun .

  “Gee!” he muttered to Edwin, “The old geezer gets more long-

  winded every day . Let’s pull for camp .”

  While the other two, aided by the dogs, assembled the goats and

  started them for the trail through the forest, Edwin stayed by the old

  man and guided him in the same direction . When they reached the

  old right of way, Edwin stopped suddenly and looked back . Hare-

  Lip and Hoo-Hoo and the dogs and the goats passed on . Edwin was

  looking at a small herd of wild horses which had come down on

  the hard sand . There were at least twenty of them, young colts and

  yearlings and mares, led by a beautiful stallion which stood in the

  foam at the edge of the surf, with arched neck and bright wild eyes,

  sniffing the salt air from off the sea.

  “What is it?” Granser queried .

  “Horses,” was the answer . “First time I ever seen ’em on the

  beach . It’s the mountain lions getting thicker and thicker and driv-

  ing ’em down .”

  The low sun shot red shafts of light, fan-shaped, up from a cloud-

  tumbled horizon . And close at hand, in the white waste of shore-

  lashed waters, the sea-lions, bellowing their old primeval chant,

  hauled up out of the sea on the black rocks and fought and loved .

  “Come on, Granser,” Edwin prompted . And old man and boy,

  skin-clad and barbaric, turned and went along the right of way into

  the forest in the wake of the goats .

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  THE PLAGUE IN BERGAMO,

  by Jens Peter Jacobsen

  Translated from the Danish By Anna Grabow (1921).

  Old Bergamo lay on the summit of a low mountain, hedged in by

  walls and gates, and New Bergamo lay at the foot of the mountain,

  exposed to all winds .

  One day the plague broke out in the new town and spread at a

  terrific speed; a multitude of people died and the others fled across

  the plains to all four corners of the world . And the citizens in Old

  Bergamo set fire to the deserted town in order to purify the air, but

  it did no good. People began dying up there too, at first one a day,

  then five, then ten, then twenty, and when the plague had reached its

  height, a great many more .

  And they could not flee as those had done, who lived in the new

  town .

  There were some, who tried it, but they led the life of a hunted

  animal, hid in ditches and sewers, under hedges, and in the green

  fields; for the peasants, into whose homes in many places the first

  fugitives had brought the plague, stoned every stranger they came

  across, drove him from their lands, or struck him down like a mad

  dog without mercy or pity, in justifiable self-defense, as they be-

  lieved .

  The people of Old Bergamo had to stay where they were, and day

  by day it grew hotter; and day by day the gruesome disease became

  more voracious and more grasping . Terror grew to madness . What

  there had been of order and good government was as if the earth had

  swallowed it, and what was worst in human nature came in its stead .

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  At the very beginning when the plague broke out people worked

&nb
sp; together in harmony and concord . They took care that the corpses

  were duly and properly buried, and every day saw to it that big

  bonfires were lighted in squares and open places so that the health-

  ful smoke might drift through the streets . Juniper and vinegar were

  distributed among the poor, and above all else, the people sought the

  churches early and late, alone and in processions . Every day they

  went with their prayers before God and every day when the sun was

  setting behind the mountains, all the churchbells called wailingly

  towards heaven from hundreds of swinging throats . Fasts were or-

  dered and every day holy relics were set out on the altars .

  At last one day when they did not know what else to do, from

  the balcony of the town hall, amid the sound of trumpets and horns,

  they proclaimed the Holy Virgin, podesta or lordmayor of the town

  now and forever .

  But all this did not help; there was nothing that helped .

  And when the people felt this and the belief grew stronger that

  heaven either would not or could not help, they not only let their

  hands lie idly in the lap, saying, “Let there come what may .” Nay,

  it seemed, as if sin had grown from a secret, stealthy disease into a

  wicked, open, raging plague, which hand in hand with the physical

  contagion sought to slay the soul as the other strove to destroy the

  body, so incredible were their deeds, so enormous their depravity!

  The air was filled with blasphemy and impiety, with the groans of

  the gluttons and the howling of drunkards . The wildest night hid not

  greater debauchery than was here committed in broad daylight .

  “To-day we shall eat, for to-morrow we die!”—It was as if they

  had set these words to music, and played on manifold instruments

  a never-ending hellish concert . Yea, if all sins had not already been

  invented, they would have been invented here, for there was no

  road they would not have followed in their wickedness . The most

  unnatural vices flourished among them, and even such rare sins as

  necromancy, magic, and exorcism were familiar to them, for there

  were many who hoped to obtain from the powers of evil the protec-

  tion which heaven had not vouchsafed them .

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  Whatever had to do with mutual assistance or pity had vanished

  from their minds; each one had thoughts only for himself . He who

  was sick was looked upon as a common foe, and if it happened that

  any one was unfortunate enough to fall down on the street, exhaust-

  ed by the first fever-paroxysm of the plague, there was no door that

  opened to him, but with lance-pricks and the casting of stones they

  forced him to drag himself out of the way of those who were still

  healthy .

  And day by day the plague increased, the summer’s sun blazed

  down upon the town, not a drop of rain fell, not the faintest breeze

  stirred . From corpses that lay rotting in the houses and from corpses

  that were only half-buried in the earth, there was engendered a suf-

  focating stench which mingled with the stagnant air of the streets

  and attracted swarms and clouds of ravens and crows until the walls

  and roofs were black with them . And round about the wall encir-

  cling the town sat strange, large, outlandish birds from far away

  with beaks eager for spoil and expectantly crooked claws; and they

  sat there and looked down with their tranquil greedy eyes as if only

  waiting for the unfortunate town to turn into one huge carrion-pit .

  It was just eleven weeks since the plague had broken out, when

  the watchman in the tower and other people who were standing in

  high places saw a strange procession wind from the plain into the

  streets of the new town between the smoke-blackened stone walls

  and the black ash-heaps of the wooden houses . A multitude of peo-

  ple! At least, six hundred or more, men and women, old and young,

  and they carried big black crosses between them and above their

  heads floated wide banners, red as fire and blood. They sing as they

  are moving onward and heartrending notes of despair rise up into

  the silent sultry air .

  Brown, gray, and black are their clothes, but all wear a red badge

  on their breast . A cross it proves to be, as they draw nearer . For

  all the time they are drawing nearer . They press upward along the

  steep road, flanked by walls, which leads up to the old town. It is a

  throng of white faces; they carry scourges in their hands . On their

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  red banners a rain of fire is pictured. And the black crosses sway

  from one side to the other in the crowd .

  From the dense mass there rises a smell of sweat, of ashes, of the

  dust of the roadway, and of stale incense .

  They no longer sing, neither do they speak, nothing is audible but

  the tramping, herd-like sound of their naked feet .

  Face after face plunges into the darkness of the tower-gate, and

  emerges into the light on the other side with a dazed, tired expres-

  sion and half-closed lids .

  Then the singing begins again: a miserere; they grasp their

  scourges more firmly and walk with a brisker step as if to a war-

  song .

  They look as if they came from a famished city, their cheeks are

  hollow, their bones stand out, their lips are bloodless, and they have

  dark rings beneath their eyes .

  The people of Bergamo have flocked together and watch them

  with amazement—and uneasiness . Red dissipated faces stand con-

  trasted with these pale white ones; dull glances exhausted by de-

  bauchery are lowered before these piercing, flaming eyes; mocking

  blasphemers stand open-mouthed before these hymns .

  And there is blood on their scourges .

  A feeling of strange uneasiness filled the people at the sight of

  these strangers .

  But it did not take long, however, before they shook off this im-

  pression . Some of them recognized a half-crazy shoemaker from

  Brescia among those who bore crosses, and immediately the whole

  mob through him became a laughingstock . Anyhow, it was some-

  thing new, a distraction amid the everyday, and when the strangers

  marched toward the cathedral, everybody followed behind as they

  would have followed a band of jugglers or a tame bear .

  But as they pushed their way forward they became embittered;

  they felt so matter-of-fact in comparison with the solemnity of these

  people . They understood very well, that those shoemakers and tai-

  lors had come here to convert them, to pray for them, and to utter

  the words which they did not wish to hear . There were two lean,

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  gray-haired philosophers who had elaborated impiety into a system;

  they incited the people, and out of the malice of their hearts stirred

  their passions, so that with each step as they neared the church the

  attitude of the crowd became more threatening and their cries of

  anger wilder . It would not have taken much to have made them lay

  violent hands on those unknow
n flagellants. Not a hundred steps

  from the church entrance, the door of a tavern was thrown open,

  and a whole flock of carousers tumbled out, one on top of the other.

  They placed themselves at the head of the procession and led the

  way, singing and bellowing with grotesquely solemn gestures—all

  except one who turned handsprings right up the grass-grown stones

  of the church-steps . This, of course, caused laughter, and so all en-

  tered peacefully into the sanctuary .

  It seemed strange to be here again, to pass through this great cool

  space, in this atmosphere pungent with the smell of old drippings

  from wax candles—across the sunken flag-stones which their feet

  knew so well and over these stones whose worn-down designs and

  bright inscriptions had so often caused their thoughts to grow weary .

  And while their eyes half-curiously, half-unwillingly sought rest in

  the gently subdued light underneath the vaults or glided over the

  dim manifoldness of the gold-dust and smoke-stained colors, or lost

  themselves in the strange shadows of the altar, there rose in their

  hearts a longing which could not be suppressed .

  In the meantime those from the tavern continued their scandalous

  behavior upon the high altar . A huge, massive butcher among them,

  a young man, had taken off his white apron and tied it around his

  neck, so that it hung down his back like a surplice, and he celebrated

  mass with the wildest and maddest words, full of obscenity and

  blasphemy . An oldish little fellow with a fat belly, active and nimble

  in spite of his weight, with a face like a skinned pumpkin was the

  sacristan and responded with the most frivolous refrains . He kneeled

  down and genuflected and turned his back to the altar and rang the

  bell as though it were a jester’s and swung the censer round like a

  wheel . The others lay drunk on the steps at full length, bellowing

  with laughter and hiccoughing with drunkenness .

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  The whole church laughed and howled and mocked at the strang-

  ers . They called out to them to pay close attention so that they might

  know what the people thought of their God, here in Old Bergamo .

  For it was not so much their wish to insult God that made them

  rejoice in the tumult; but they felt satisfaction in knowing that each

 

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