"He went to live with the Meat-Eaters and to be a singer of songs
to the king. He is an old man now, but he sings the same old
songs; and, when a man rises up to go forward, he sings that that
man is walking backward to live in a tree."

Long-Beard dipped into the bear-carcass and sucked with toothless
gums at a fist of suet.

"Some day," he said, wiping his hands on his sides, "all the fools
will be dead and then all live men will go forward. The strength
of the strong will be theirs, and they will add their strength
together, so that, of all the men in the world, not one will fight
with another. There will be no guards nor watchers on the walls.
And all the hunting animals will be killed, and, as Hair-Face said,
all the hill-sides will be pastured with goats and all the high
mountain valleys will be planted with corn and fat roots. And all
men will be brothers, and no man will lie idle in the sun and be
fed by his fellows. And all that will come to pass in the time
when the fools are dead, and when there will be no more singers to
stand still and sing the 'Song of the Bees.' Bees are not men."



SOUTH OF THE SLOT



Old San Francisco, which is the San Francisco of only the other
day, the day before the Earthquake, was divided midway by the Slot.