and bird;we were in the midst of all; we were a part of all; we rejoiced inall.
And then my thoughts reverted to the great city; to that congregationof houses; to those streets swarming with murderers; to that hungry,moaning multitude.
Why did they not listen to me? Why did rich and poor alike mock me?If they had not done so, this dreadful cup might have been avertedfrom their lips. But it would seem as if faith and civilization wereincompatible. Christ was only possible in a barefooted world; and thefew who wore shoes murdered him. What dark perversity was it in theblood of the race that made it wrap itself in misery, like a garment,while all nature was happy?
Max told me that we had had a narrow escape. Of the three messengerswe had sent forth to General Quincy, but one reached him; the othershad been slain on the streets. And when the solitary man fought hisway through to the armory he found the Mamelukes of the Air full ofpreparations for a flight that night to the mountain regions of SouthAmerica. Had we delayed our departure for another day, or had allthree of our messengers been killed by the marauders, we must allhave perished in the midst of the flames of the burning building. Wejoined Mr. Phillips, therefore, with unwonted heartiness in themorning prayers.
The next day we came in sight of the shores of Europe. As we drewnear, we passed over multitudes of open boats, river steamers andships of all kinds, crowded with people. Many of these vessels wereunfitted for a sea voyage, but the horrors they fled from weregreater than those the great deep could conjure up. Their occupantsshouted to us, through speaking-trumpets, to turn back; that allEurope was in ruins. And we, in reply, warned them of the conditionof things in America, and advised them to seek out uncivilized lands,where no men dwelt but barbarians.
As we neared the shore we could see that the beaches, wharves andtongues of sand were everywhere black with people, who struggled likemadmen to secure the few boats or ships that remained. With suchweapons as they had hurriedly collected they fought back thebetter-armed masses of wild and desperate men who hung upon theirskirts, plying the dreadful trade of murder. Some of the agonizedmultitude shrieked to us for help. Our hearts bled for them, but wecould do nothing. Their despairing hands were held up to us insupplication as the air-ship darted over them.
But why dilate upon the dreadful picture that unrolled beneath us?Hamlets, villages, towns, cities, blackened and smoking masses ofruin. The conflicts were yet raging on every country road and citystreet; we could hear the shrieks of the flying, the rattle of riflesand pistols in the hands of the pursuers. Desolation was everywhere.Some even rushed out and fired their guns viciously at us, as iffurious to see anything they could not destroy. Never before did Ithink mankind was so base. I realized how much of the evil in humannature had been for ages suppressed and kept in subjection by theiron force of law and its terrors. Was man the joint product of anangel and a devil? Certainly in this paroxysm of fate he seemed to bedemoniacal.
We turned southward over the trampled gardens and vineyards ofFrance. A great volcanic lava field of flame and ashes--burning,smoking--many miles in extent--showed where Paris had been. Around itragged creatures were prowling, looking for something to eat, diggingup roots in the fields. At one place, in the open country, Iobserved, ahead of us, a tall and solitary tree in a field; near itwere the smouldering ruins of a great house. I saw something whitemoving in the midst of the foliage, near the top of the tree. Iturned my glass upon it. It was a woman, holding something in herarms.
"Can we not take her up?" I asked the captain of the airship.
"We cannot stop the vessel in that distance--but we might return toit," he replied.
"Then do so, for God's sake," I said.
We swooped downward. We passed near the tree. The woman screamed tous to stop, and held up an infant. Christina and Estella and all theother women wept. We passed the tree--the despairing cries of thewoman were dreadful to listen to. But she takes courage; sees ussweep about; we come slowly back; we stop; a rope ladder falls; Idescend; I grasp the child's clothes between my teeth; I help thewoman up the ladder. She falls upon the deck of the ship, and criesout in French: "Spare my child!" Dreadful period! when every humanbeing is looked upon as a murderer. The women comfort her. Herclothes are in rags, but upon her fingers are costly jewels. Her babeis restored to her arms; she faints with hunger and exhaustion. Forthree days, she tells us, she has been hidden in that tree, withoutfood or drink; and has seen all dear to her perish--all but herlittle Francois. And with what delight Estella and Christina and therest cuddle and feed the pretty, chubby, hungry little stranger!
Thank God for the angel that dwells in human nature. And woe unto himwho bids the devil rise to cast it out!
Max, during all this day, is buried in profound thought. He looks outat the desolated world and sighs. Even Christina fails to attract hisattention. Why should he be happy when there is so much misery? Didhe not help to cause it?
But, after a time, we catch sight of the blue and laughing waters ofthe Mediterranean, with its pleasant, bosky islands. This is gone,and in a little while the yellow sands of the great desert stretchbeneath us, and extend ahead of us, far as the eye can reach. We passa toiling caravan, with its awkward, shuffling, patient camels, andits dark attendants. They have heard nothing, in these solitudes, ofthe convulsions that rend the world. They pray to Allah and Mahometand are happy. The hot, blue, cloudless sky rises in a great domeabove their heads; their food is scant and rude, but in their veinsthere burn not those wild fevers of ambition which have drivenmankind to such frenzies and horrors. They live and die as theirancestors did, ten thousand years ago--unchangeable as the starsabove their heads; and these are even as they shone clear and brightwhen the Chaldean shepherds first studied the outlines of theconstellations, and marked the pathways of the wandering planets.
Before us, at last, rise great blue masses, towering high in air,like clouds, and extending from east to west; and these, in a littlewhile, as we rush on, resolve themselves into a mighty mountainrange, snow-capped, with the yellow desert at its feet, stretchingout like a Persian rug.
I direct the pilot, and in another hour the great ship begins toabate its pace; it sweeps in great circles. I see the sheep flyingterrified by our shadow; then the large, roomy, white-walled house,with its broad verandas, comes into view; and before it, looking upat us in surprise, are my dear mother and brothers, and our servants.
The ship settles down from its long voyage. We are at home. We are atpeace.
CHAPTER XL.
THE GARDEN IN THE MOUNTAINS
[_These concluding lines are from the journal of Gabriel Weltstein_.]
Since my return home I have not been idle. In the first place, Icollected and put together the letters I had written to my brotherHeinrich, from New York. I did this because I thought they wereimportant, as a picture of the destruction of civilization, and ofthe events which led up to it. I furthermore had them printed on ourprinting-press, believing that every succeeding century would makethem more valuable to posterity; and that in time they would betreasured as we now treasure the glimpses of the world before theDeluge, contained in the Book of Genesis.
And I have concluded to still further preserve, in the pages of thisjournal, a record of events as they transpire.
As soon as I had explained to my family the causes of our return--forwhich they were in part prepared by my letters to Heinrich--and hadmade them acquainted with my wife and friends, I summoned a meetingof the inhabitants of our colony--there are about five thousand ofthem, men, women and children.
They all came, bringing baskets of provisions with them, as to apicnic. We met in an ancient grove upon a hillside. I spoke to themand told them the dreadful tale of the destruction of the world. Ineed not say that they were inexpressibly shocked by the awfulnarrative. Many of them wept bitterly, and some even cried outaloud--for they had left behind them, in Switzerland, many dearfriends and relatives. I comforted them as best I could, by remindingthem that
the Helvetian Republic had survived a great many dynastiesand revolutions; that they were not given to the luxuries andexcesses that had wrecked the world, but were a primitive people,among whom labor had always remained honorable. Moreover, they were awarlike race, and their mountains were their fortifications; and theywould, therefore, probably, be able to defend themselves against theinvasion of the hungry and starving hordes who would range and ravagethe earth.
The first question for us, I said, was to ascertain how to bestprotect ourselves from like dangers. We then proceeded to discuss thephysical conformation of our country. It is a vast table-land,situated at a great height far above the tropical and miasmaticplains, and surrounded by mountains still higher, in which dwell theremnants of that curious white race first described by Stanley. Theonly access to our region from the lower country is by means of theordinary wagon road which winds upward through a vast defile or gorgein the mountains. At one point the precipitous walls of this gorgeapproach so