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Deep within him； Ish again felt his old hatred of loose thinking boil up。 Though he was an old man； still he might do something。
〃No！〃 he said； so sharply that the young man started。 〃No！ That is not right。 The white arrowheads and the red！ One just as well as。。。。〃
Then； slowly his voice trailed off。 No； he thought； that was not the way it was destined to be。 He heard a rich contralto voice saying to him； 〃Relax！〃 Perhaps he might persuade this young man named Jack； who was undoubtedly a remarkably intelligent and imaginative young man； possibly even somewhat like that little one named Joey。 But what would it acplish？ Only； perhaps to make the young man confused and ill at ease among all the others。 And what was really the difference？ At least； copper arrowheads were not less effective against lions； and if the bowman thought them more effective； the thought gave him courage and steadied his hand。
So Ish said nothing more about the matter； and smiled at the young man reassuringly； and looked again at the arrow。 Another thought came to him； and he asked：
〃Can you always find plenty of those little round things？〃
The young man laughed merrily； as if this were a strange question。
〃Oh； yes；〃 he said。 〃There are so many that if all of us spent all our time pounding out arrowheads； still we should never run short。〃
Ish considered。 Yes； that was probably true。 Even if there were a hundred men in The Tribe by now； there must be thousands and thousands of coins readily to be found in tills and cash…boxes； even in this one corner of the city。 And if the coins should be exhausted； there would be thousands of miles of copper telephone wire。 When he had first made an arrow； he recollected； he had imagined that The Tribe would revert to stone arrowheads。 Instead they had taken a short…cut； and were already fashioning metal。 So perhaps The Tribe； his own descendants； had already passed the turning…point； were no longer forgetting more old things than they were learning new things； and were no longer sinking toward savagery； but were maintaining a stable level or perhaps gradually beginning to win new security。 By showing them how to make bows； he had helped； and he felt greatly forted。
Then； having finished looking at the arrow； Ish handed it back。 〃It seems to be a very good arrow；〃 he said； although he did not really know much about arrows。
Nevertheless the young man smiled with great happiness at this praise of his arrow； and Ish noted that he made a mark on it before he put it back into the quiver； as if he wished to know it and distinguish it from other arrows after what had happened。 Then； as he still looked at the young man； Ish felt a sudden great love for him； and he had not been so moved for a long time since he had been sitting as an old man on the hillside。 This Jack； who was of the First Ones； must be Ish's great…grandson in the male line； and he was also Em's great…grandson。 So； as Ish looked； his heart yearned outwards； and he asked a strange question：
〃Young man；〃 he said； 〃are you happy？〃 The young man named Jack looked startled at this question； and he glanced in both directions before answering； and then he spoke。
〃Yes； I am happy。 Things are as they are； and I am part of them。〃
Ish began to think of what this might mean and to wonder again whether the words had been spoken only in simplicity or whether there was some deep philosophy behind them； but he could not decide。 At his trying to think； the fog seemed again to move in at the corners of his brain。 But still he recollected vaguely that the words…strange as they were…had a ring of familiarity about them。 He had not perhaps ever heard those exact words before； but they were words that someone whom he had once known might well have spoken。 For in his words the young man had not questioned； but had accepted。 Ish could not recall this person exactly； but he remembered softness and warmth； and warm feelings flowed through him。
When he came out of his reverie and looked up again； no one was standing in front of him。 In fact； Ish would have been unable to say surely whether the young man named Jack had been there that same day； or whether this was now some other day； or perhaps even another summer。
Chapter 2
He awoke so early； one morning； that the room was still in half…darkness。 He lay quiet for a moment； wondering where he was； and for a moment he thought that he was a small boy again and had crawled into his mother's bed for fort in the early morning。 Then he realized that it could not be so； and he thought that if he stretched out his hand he would find Em lying there beside him。 But that was not so； either。 Then he thought of his young wife。 But no； she would not be there either； for long ago he had given her to a younger man because it is right that a woman should bear children so that the tribe will increase and the darkness draw farther back。 So then at last he realized that he was a very old man； and was lying in the bed by himself。 Nevertheless； it was the same bed and the same room。
There was a strange dryness in his throat。 After a minute he slowly got out of bed； and uncertainly on his old stiff legs he walked to the bathroom for a drink of water。 As he went into the bathroom； he stretched out his right hand； and flipped the electric…light switch。 It made the familiar click； and suddenly the room was brilliant to his eyes。 Then after a moment he found himself in the half…darkness of dawn again； and he realized that the electric light had not flashed on。 It had not so flashed for years； and would never again…and the familiar click had merely fooled his old brain； so that for a moment the room had seemed light。 All this did not bother him； because it had thus happened before。
Also； when he turned the stiff faucet…handle at the washbowl； no water gushed out merrily。 Then he remembered that years ago the water had ceased to run。
He could not get his drink of water； but he was not so much thirsty as merely bothered by that dryness in the throat。
After he had swallowed a few times； he felt better。 When he stood by the bedside again； he hesitated； sniffing。 He could remember many changes of smells through the years。 Far back there had been the smell of a great city。 That had given way to the clean smell of green things and growth。 But that also had yielded； and now there was about the old house a smell of age and decay。 That smell； however； was familiar and was not bothering him。 What he was trying to assay was a kind of dry smokiness。 That dryness； he considered； had made him wake up so early。 But he felt no fear； and crawled into bed again。
A steady wind was blowing from the north。 It tossed the pine trees that now grew closely around the house； and the branches swished and knocked against the windows and against the walls of the house。
The noise kept him awake； and he lay there listening。 He wished that he knew the time； but he no longer kept a clock wound。 Time in its old sense of appointments to be kept and things to be done…all that had long since ceased to exist； both because the way of life had changed and because he himself was so old as to be almost out of life。 In certain ways he had already； as it seemed； passed from time to eternity。
Now he lay by himself in the old and half…ruined house。 The others slept in other houses； or in good weather lay in the open。 Perhaps they felt that ghosts walked in this old house。 Well； perhaps！ To Ish himself the thoughts of those who had been long dead were often more immediately present than the bodies of those now living。
Though he had no clock； the half…light told him that the time could not be much before sunrise。 Perhaps he had slept as long as an old man needed to sleep。 He would lie there； turning himself over occasionally； until the sun had risen； and someone…he hoped it would be the young man called Jack…came to bring him his breakfast。 There would be a well…braised beef bone on which he could suck； and some corn…meal boiled into a mush。 The Tribe took good care of him； an old man。 They let him have corn…meal though that was something of a rarity with them。 They sent someone to carry his hammer and help him outdoors； so that he could sit on the hillside when there was sunshine。 Often the one who came to help him was Jack。 Yes； they took very good care of him； even though he was a useless old man。 Sometimes they grew angry with him and pinched him； but that was only because they thought he was a god。
The wind still blew； and the branches brushed and slapped against the house。 But he had apparently not slept as much as he needed to sleep； and after a while he drowsed off； in spite of the noises。
The cuts in the hills and the long embankments for the roads…they will still show as narrow valleys and ridges even after ten thousand years have passed。 The great masses of concrete that were the dams…they will remain like the dikes of the granite itself。
But the steel and the wood will pass quickly。 The three fires will take them。
Slowest of all is the fire of rust that burns at the steel。 Yet give it some short centuries； and the high trestle that spans the canyon will be only a line of red soil on the slopes below。
Faster by far is the fire of decay that feeds on the wood。
But fastest of all is the fire of the flames。
Then suddenly someone was shaking him hard。 He awoke with a great shock。 As he focused his old eyes； he saw that the person who was shaking him was the young man named Jack； and that Jack's face was tense with fear。
〃Get up！ Get up quick！〃 Jack was saying。 With the shock of the sudden awakening； Ish's mind seemed clearer than before； and both his body and his mind reacted faster。 He moved quickly； pulling on some clothes。 Jack helped him。 Smoke was heavy in the room now； no longer a mere smell。 Ish coughed； and his eyes watered。 He heard a crackle and a dull roar。 They went downstairs quickly； and out the front door； and down the steps toward the street。 Only when he was out of the house did Ish realize how strongly the wind was blowing。 Smoke rolled before it； and bits of burning leaves and bark swirled along。
Ish was not surprised。 He had known always that this must happen some time。 Every year the oat…grass grew tall； and then ripened and dried where it stood。 Every year the bushes of the deserted gardens had grown more thick； and the dead leaves had fallen among them。 It was only a question of time； he had always known； until some hunter's campfire would escape from him； and with a strong wind driving it； the fire would make a clean sweep on this side of the Bay； as it had on the other。
Just as they reached the sidewalk； the thick clump of underbrush around the next house to the north suddenly went up in a roar of flame so that Ish shrank away from the heat。 Jack began to hurry him along the sidewalk away from the approaching fire； and just at that moment Ish realized that he had forgotten something although he could not remember just what。
They came to two other young men who were standing there looking at the approaching flames。 Then Ish remembered。
〃My hammer！〃 he cried out。 〃Where is my hammer？〃
As soon as he had cried out； he was ashamed of himself to have made so much fuss about a trifle in a time of emergency。 After all； the hammer was of no importance。 Then he was amazed to see what a tremendous impression his words had made upon the three young men。 They looked at each other as if they were panic…stricken。 Suddenly； Jack dashed back toward the house； even though the bushes in the garden itself were now beginning to smoke。
〃e back！ e back！〃 Ish called after him； but his voice was not very strong； and he was half choking on account of the smoke。
This was a terrible thing； Ish was thinking to himself； that Jack should be burned in the fire about such a small matter as a hammer。
But then Jack came running out。 His lion…skin cloak was singed； and he himself was rubbing at some burns where sparks had fallen on him。 But otherwise he was not hurt。 The other young men seemed strangely relieved that he was carrying the hammer in his hand。
Obviously； they could not stay where they we