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- Джек Лондон
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- Стр. 19/31
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Thursday
night
the
panic
outrush
for
the
country
began
.
Imagine
,
my
grandsons
,
people
,
thicker
than
the
salmon-run
you
have
seen
on
the
Sacramento
river
,
pouring
out
of
the
cities
by
millions
,
madly
over
the
country
,
in
vain
attempt
to
escape
the
ubiquitous
death
.
You
see
,
they
carried
the
germs
with
them
.
Even
the
airships
of
the
rich
,
fleeing
for
mountain
and
desert
fastnesses
,
carried
the
germs
.
"
Hundreds
of
these
airships
escaped
to
Hawaii
,
and
not
only
did
they
bring
the
plague
with
them
,
but
they
found
the
plague
already
there
before
them
.
This
we
learned
,
by
the
despatches
,
until
all
order
in
San
Francisco
vanished
,
and
there
were
no
operators
left
at
their
posts
to
receive
or
send
.
It
was
amazing
,
astounding
,
this
loss
of
communication
with
the
world
.
It
was
exactly
as
if
the
world
had
ceased
,
been
blotted
out
.
For
sixty
years
that
world
has
no
longer
existed
for
me
.
I
know
there
must
be
such
places
as
New
York
,
Europe
,
Asia
,
and
Africa
;
but
not
one
word
has
been
heard
of
them
--
not
in
sixty
years
.
With
the
coming
of
the
Scarlet
Death
the
world
fell
apart
,
absolutely
,
irretrievably
.
Ten
thousand
years
of
culture
and
civilization
passed
in
the
twinkling
of
an
eye
,
'
lapsed
like
foam
.
'
"
I
was
telling
about
the
airships
of
the
rich
.
They
carried
the
plague
with
them
and
no
matter
where
they
fled
,
they
died
.
I
never
encountered
but
one
survivor
of
any
of
them
--
Mungerson
.
He
was
afterwards
a
Santa
Rosan
,
and
he
married
my
eldest
daughter
.
He
came
into
the
tribe
eight
years
after
the
plague
.
He
was
then
nineteen
years
old
,
and
he
was
compelled
to
wait
twelve
years
more
before
he
could
marry
.
You
see
,
there
were
no
unmarried
women
,
and
some
of
the
older
daughters
of
the
Santa
Rosans
were
already
bespoken
.
So
he
was
forced
to
wait
until
my
Mary
had
grown
to
sixteen
years
.
It
was
his
son
,
Gimp-Leg
,
who
was
killed
last
year
by
the
mountain
lion
.
"
Mungerson
was
eleven
years
old
at
the
time
of
the
plague
.
His
father
was
one
of
the
Industrial
Magnates
,
a
very
wealthy
,
powerful
man
.
It
was
on
his
airship
,
the
Condor
,
that
they
were
fleeing
,
with
all
the
family
,
for
the
wilds
of
British
Columbia
,
which
is
far
to
the
north
of
here
.
But
there
was
some
accident
,
and
they
were
wrecked
near
Mount
Shasta
.
You
have
heard
of
that
mountain
.
It
is
far
to
the
north
.
The
plague
broke
out
amongst
them
,
and
this
boy
of
eleven
was
the
only
survivor
.
For
eight
years
he
was
alone
,
wandering
over
a
deserted
land
and
looking
vainly
for
his
own
kind
.
And
at
last
,
travelling
south
,
he
picked
up
with
us
,
the
Santa
Rosans
.
"
But
I
am
ahead
of
my
story
.
When
the
great
exodus
from
the
cities
around
San
Francisco
Bay
began
,
and
while
the
telephones
were
still
working
,
I
talked
with
my
brother
.
I
told
him
this
flight
from
the
cities
was
insanity
,
that
there
were
no
symptoms
of
the
plague
in
me
,
and
that
the
thing
for
us
to
do
was
to
isolate
ourselves
and
our
relatives
in
some
safe
place
.
We
decided
on
the
Chemistry
Building
,
at
the
university
,
and
we
planned
to
lay
in
a
supply
of
provisions
,
and
by
force
of
arms
to
prevent
any
other
persons
from
forcing
their
presence
upon
us
after
we
had
retired
to
our
refuge
.
"
All
this
being
arranged
,
my
brother
begged
me
to
stay
in
my
own
house
for
at
least
twenty-four
hours
more
,
on
the
chance
of
the
plague
developing
in
me
.
To
this
I
agreed
,
and
he
promised
to
come
for
me
next
day
.
We
talked
on
over
the
details
of
the
provisioning
and
the
defending
of
the
Chemistry
Building
until
the
telephone
died
.
It
died
in
the
midst
of
our
conversation
.
That
evening
there
were
no
electric
lights
,
and
I
was
alone
in
my
house
in
the
darkness
.
No
more
newspapers
were
being
printed
,
so
I
had
no
knowledge
of
what
was
taking
place
outside
.
"
I
heard
sounds
of
rioting
and
of
pistol
shots
,
and
from
my
windows
I
could
see
the
glare
of
the
sky
of
some
conflagration
in
the
direction
of
Oakland
.
It
was
a
night
of
terror
.
I
did
not
sleep
a
wink
.
A
man
--
why
and
how
I
do
not
know
--
was
killed
on
the
sidewalk
in
front
of
the
house
.
I
heard
the
rapid
reports
of
an
automatic
pistol
,
and
a
few
minutes
later
the
wounded
wretch
crawled
up
to
my
door
,
moaning
and
crying
out
for
help
.
Arming
myself
with
two
automatics
,
I
went
to
him
.
By
the
light
of
a
match
I
ascertained
that
while
he
was
dying
of
the
bullet
wounds
,
at
the
same
time
the
plague
was
on
him
.
I
fled
indoors
,
whence
I
heard
him
moan
and
cry
out
for
half
an
hour
longer
.
"
In
the
morning
,
my
brother
came
to
me
.
I
had
gathered
into
a
handbag
what
things
of
value
I
purposed
taking
,
but
when
I
saw
his
face
I
knew
that
he
would
never
accompany
me
to
the
Chemistry
Building
.
The
plague
was
on
him
.
He
intended
shaking
my
hand
,
but
I
went
back
hurriedly
before
him
.
