gs.earthabides-第22节

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of　food　somewhere。　
　　They　streamed　everywhere。　Ish　was　sorry　not　to　be　a　good　enough　entomologist　to　ascertain　what　really　was　happening　and　to　work　out　the　history　of　this　overpowering　increase。　But　in　spite　of　some　investigations；　he　never　even　discovered　for　certain　whether　the　ants　were　spreading　outward　from　some　great　center　of　development　or　whether　they　were　breeding　equally　all　over　the　city。　
　　Their　scouts　ranged　everywhere。　Suddenly　he　had　to　bee　a　furiously　meticulous　housekeeper；　for　the　slightest　scrap　of　food　or　even　a　dead　fly　brought　an　immediate　stream　of　ants　an　inch　wide；　overwhelming　the　insignificant　prey　which　had　attracted　them。　He　found　them　wandering　upon　Princess's　coat　like　fleas；　although　apparently　they　did　not　bite。　He　found　them　in　his　own　clothes。　Once　in　the　early　morning　he　awoke　with　a　horrible　dream　because　a　stream　of　ants　was　pouring　across　his　own　cheek；　bent　to　some　goal　which　he　never　discovered。　
　　Actually　the　house　was　only　alien　ground　into　which　they　made　raids。　Their　real　strength　lay　outside。　Their　hills　seemed　now　to　be　everywhere。　He　could　not　overturn　a　clod　without　having　ants　swarm　out　by　thousands　from　burrows　that　pierced　the　earth。　They　must　be　annihilating　all　the　other　insects；　he　thought；　destroying　their　means　of　subsistence　even　if　not　killing　them。　He　got　bottles　of　ant…poison　and　DDT　spray　from　the　drug　store；　and　tried　to　make　the　house　into　a　hostile　island；　but　the　pressure　of　numbers　was　so　great　from　the　outside　that　they　streamed　across　his　spray。　Doubtless　all　the　trespassers　inevitably　died；　but　the　death　of　even　millions　of　individuals　would　not　affect　such　numbers　appreciably。　He　tried　to　estimate　how　many　ants　must　be　living　on　this　one　city　lot；　but　he　came　out　with　an　unbelievable　answer　in　billions。　Had　they　no　natural　enemies？　Had　they　broken　all　limits　Of　control？　With　the　removal　of　man　were　they　now　destined　to　inherit　the　earth？　
　　Yet；　after　all；　they　were　only　the　little　hustling　ants　which　had　irritated　and　plagued　California　housewives。　Making　some　investigations；　he　found　that　actually　the　range　of　the　plague　did　not　extend　appreciably　beyond　the　limits　of　the　city。　In　some　way；　like　dogs　and　cats　and　rats；　these　ants　had　e　to　be　domestic　animals　dependent　upon　the　activities　of　man。　This　gave　him　a　certain　hope。　If　he　had　only　been　seeking　his　ease；　he　would　have　left　the　city；　but　he　preferred；　even　at　the　cost　of　some　disfort；　to　watch　what　was　happening。　
　　Then　one　morning　he　realized　suddenly　that　he　had　not　noticed　any　ants。　He　looked　around　carefully；　but　he　could　not　see　any　of　their　scouts。　He　dropped　a　bit　of　food　on　the　floor；　then　went　away　about　some　other　business　for　a　few　minutes。　When　he　returned　to　the　scene　of　his　experiment；　the　food　lay　there　without　an　ant　upon　it。　Curious；　realizing　that　something　had　happened；　he　went　outside。　He　turned　over　a　clod　of　dirt；　and　no　ants　swarmed　from　their　holes。　He　hunted　carefully。　Here　and　there　he　discovered　a　few　stragglers　wandering　about　aimlessly；　but　they　were　so　few　that　he　could　have　counted　them　individually。　He　hunted　still　further。　He　could　find　no　dead　bodies　of　ants。　They　had　simply　vanished。　Perhaps；　if　he　had　had　the　skill　in　their　ways　to　dig　down　and　find　their　nests；　he　would　have　discovered　that　they　were　lying　dead　in　their　billions。　But　again　he　could　only　wish　that　he　knew　more　of　their　manner　of　life　and　could　carry　on　an　investigation。　
　　He　never　solved　the　mystery；　but　he　had　little　doubt　as　to　what　had　happened。　When　any　creature　reached　such　climactic　numbers　and　attained　such　high　concentration；　a　nemesis　was　likely　to　fall　upon　it。　Possibly　the　ants　had　exhausted　the　supplies　of　food　which　had　led　to　this　tremendous　increase　of　numbers。　More　likely；　some　disease　had　fallen　upon　them；　and　wiped　them　out。　In　the　next　few　days　he　smelled；　or　thought　he　smelled；　a　faint　all…pervading　putrescence；　as　if　from　the　decaying　bodies　of　billions　of　ants。。。。　
　　One　evening　shortly　afterward；　he　sat　reading；　and　after　a　while　began　to　feel　hungry。　He　went　to　the　kitchen；　and　rummaged　in　the　refrigerator　for　some　cheese。　Happening　to　glance　at　the　electric　clock；　he　was　surprised　to　see　that　the　time　was　only　nine…thirty…seven。　He　had　thought　it　was　later。　On　his　way　back　to　the　living…room　he　took　a　bite　of　the　cheese；　and　glanced　at　his　wrist…watch。　The　watch…hands　stood　at　ten…nine；　and　he　knew　that　he　had　set　the　watch　by　the　clock　within　twenty…fopr　hours。　
　　〃The　old　clock's　going　to　pieces　at　last；〃　he　thought。　〃Not　surprising！〃　He　remembered　how　the　motion　of　its　hands　had　startled　him　when　he　had　first　returned　to　the　house。　
　　He　sat　down　to　read　again。　A　high　wind　from　the　north　with　the　heavy　smell　of　smoke　in　it　blew　so　hard　that　it　rattled　the　windows　occasionally。　By　now　he　was　used　to　the　smell　of　smoke；　and　did　not　think　about　it。　At　many　times　he　could　not　even　get　a　good　view　because　of　the　smoke　of　the　burning　…forests。　After　a　while　he　blinked　his　eyes　a　little；　and　stared　more　intently　at　the　page　where　the　letters　seemed　to　have　grown　strangely　indistinct。　〃This　smoke　must　be　making　my　eyes　water；〃　he　thought。　I　don't　seem　to　see　so　well。〃　But　as　he　looked　closer；　it　seemed　that　not　only　the　page　before　him　but　the　whole　room　had　grown　dimmer。　With　a　sudden　start　he　looked　at　the　electric…light　bulb　in　the　bridge　lamp　beside　him。　
　　Then　quickly；　with　a　jumping　heart；　he　was　out　of　his　chair　and　standing　on　the　front　porch　looking　out　over　the　broad　stretches　of　the　city　below　him。　The　lights　were　still　burning　along　the　streets。　The　chains　of　yellow　beads　still　showed　on　the　great　bridge；　and　at　the　tops　of　the　towers　the　red　lights　were　flashing。　He　looked　more　carefully。　The　lights　seemed　a　little　dimmer　than　they　should　be；　but　he　could　be　imagining　that；　or　they　might　be　obscured　by　all　the　drifting　smoke。　He　went　back　and　sat　in　his　chair　again　and　tried　to　read；　forgetting　about　it…forgetting　what　he　feared。　
　　But　he　blinked…and　again！　Looking　at　the　light　beside　him；…　he　was　puzzled。　Then　suddenly　he　remembered　the　clock！　〃Well；〃　he　thought；　〃it　had　to　e！〃　
　　His　watch　now　showed　ten…fifty…two。　He　went　out　to　the　kitchen；　and　saw　that　the　clock　was　at　ten…fourteen。　He　calculated　apprehensively。　The　result　was　bad。　As　closely　as　he　could　remember；　the　clock　had　lost　six　minutes　in　about　threequarters　of　an　hour。　
　　The　clock　was　run；　he　knew；　by　electrical　impulses　which　were　ordinarily　timed　at　sixty　to　the　minute。　Now　they　must　be　ing　less　often。　An　electrical　engineer　would　doubtless　have　found　it　an　elementary　matter　to　calculate　just　how　much　less　often。　Ish　could　even　have　made　an　attempt　at　the　calculation　himself；　but　he　saw　no　use　in　it；　and　he　felt　suddenly　downcast。　In　any　case；　once　the　Power…and…Light　system　had　started　to　go　to　pieces；　the　rate　of　decline　would　undoubtedly　be　progressively　faster。　
　　Back　in　the　living…room；　he　could　scarcely　doubt　now　that　the　light　had　faded　still　more。　Deep　shadows　seemed　to　have　moved　out　from　behind　the　chairs　in　the　ers　of　the　room。　
　　〃The　lights　are　going　out。　The　lights　of　the　world！〃　he　thought；　and　he　felt　like　a　child　going　alone　into　the　dark。　Princess　lay　dozing　on　the　floor。　The　fading　of　the　lights　could　mean　nothing　to　her；　but　she　sensed　his　nervousness　and　came　up　restlessly　sniffing；　whining　a　little。　
　　He　stood　on　the　porch　again。　Minute　by　minute　the　long　ch　i　of　street…lights　grew　less　and　less　luminous；　more　and　more　yellow。　The　high　wind；　he　thought；　must　be　helping；　blowing　down　a　power…line　here；　weakening　a　switch　connection　there。　The　fire　too　was　sweeping　across　the　forested　ridges　unchecked　by　men；　burning　power…lines；　perhaps；　even　power…houses。　
　　After　a　while　the　lights　seemed　to　fade　no　further；　but　to　remain　at　a　constant　dimness。　He　went　in　again；　and　pulling　another　bridge…lamp　to　the　side　of　his　chair；　he　was　able　to　read　fortably　with　two　lights　instead　of　one。　Princess　lay　down　again　to　doze。　By　now　it　was　late；　but　he　did　not　want　to　go　to　sleep。　He　felt　as　if　he　were　sitting　up　by　the　deathbed　of　his　most　treasured　and　oldest　friend。　He　remembered　those　great　words　〃Let　there　be　light；　and　there　was　light！〃　This　seemed　the　other　end　of　that　story。　
　　After　a　while　he　went　to　look　at　the　clock　again；　and　saw　that　it　had　stopped　with　the　hands　symmetrically　upward…at　eleven…five。　
　　His　watch　showed　him　that　by　now　it　was　well　after　mid7　night。　The　lights　might　still　continue　many　hours；　or　even　might　burn　dimly　for　days。　Yet　he　did　not　want　to　go　to　bed。　
　　He　tried　to　read　again；　but　finally　slipped　off　to　sleep　in　the　easy…chair　where　he　was　sitting。　
　　With　Power…and…Light　it　was　all　so　carefully　contrived　that　even　in　the　disaster　there　was　no　need　for　adjustment。　The　men　fell　sick；　but　the　generators　still　sent　out　along　the　wires　their　finely　timed　pulsations。　So；　when　the　brief　agony　of　mankind　was　ended；　the　lights　still　burned。　
　　So　it　continued　through　the　weeks。　If　a　wire　broke　and　cut　out　a　whole　town　from　the　flow　of　power；　the　system　adjusted　before　that　wire　had　had　time　to　fall　to　the　ground。　If　a　power…house　failed；　just　as　quickly　the　other　power…houses　in　the　system　stre