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Then suddenly he saw a strange sight。 One car； a little green coupé； was parked neatly at the railing； headed toward the East Bay。
Ish approached it； gazing curiously。 He saw nobody； or nothing； inside。 He passed it； then； yielding to curiosity； he swung his car around in a wide easy loop； and parked beside the coupé。
He opened the door and looked in。 No； nothing！ The driver； despairing； feeling the sickness upon him…had he parked there； and then leaped over the railing？ Or had he； or she； merely suffered a breakdown； and flagged another car； or walked on？ Some keys were still dangling from the dashboard； the certificate of registration was fastened to the steering…column…John S。 Robertson； of some number on Fifty…fourth Street； Oakland。 An undistinguished name and an undistinguished address！ Now Mr。。 Robertson's car had possession of the bridge！
Only after he was again entering the tunnel did Ish think that he might at least have settled the question as to a breakdown by seeing whether he could start the car。 But it did not really matter…any more than it mattered that he was heading toward the East Bay again。 Having swung around to park beside the coupé； he had merely continued on in the direction toward which he was pointed。 He had already realized that there would be no utility in visiting San Francisco。。。。
Soon afterward； as he had promised； Ish came again to the street where in the morning he had talked （if it could be called talking） with the drunk man。
He found the body lying on the sidewalk in front of the liquor store。 〃After all；〃 Ish reflected； 〃there is a limit to the amount of alcohol that any human can absorb。〃 Remembering the eyes； he could not be sorry。
No dogs were in the vicinity as yet； but Ish did not like to leave the body merely lying there。 After all； he had known and talked to Mr。 Barlow。 He could not figure out just where or how he could perform a burial。 So he found some blankets in a near…by dry…goods store； and wrapped the body carefully in these。 Then he lifted Mr。 Barlow into the seat of the car； and closed the windows carefully。 It would make a tight and lasting mausoleum。
He said no words； for they seemed hardly in place。 But he looked through the window at the neat roll of blankets； and thought of Mr。 Barlow； who was probably a good guy； but couldn't survive a world going to pieces around him。 And then； because in some way it seemed a decent thing to do； Ish took off his hat； and stood uncovered a few seconds。。。。
In that day； as in some ancient time when a great king was overthrown and the remnants of the conquered peoples were jubilant against him…in that day will the fir trees rejoice and the cedars； crying out： 〃Since thou art laid down； no feller is e up against us？〃 Will the deer and the foxes and the quail exult： 〃Art thou also bee weak as we； Art thou bee like unto us？ Is this the man that made the earth to tremble？〃
（〃Thy pomp is brought down to the grave and the noise of thy viols； the worm is spread under thee and the worms cover thee。〃）
No…none will say such words； and none will be left to think them； and the book of the prophet Isaiah will moulder unread。 Only； the spike…buck will graze farther from the thicket without knowing why； and the fox…cubs play beside the dry fountain in the square； and the quad hatch her eggs in the tall grass by the sundial。
Toward the end of the day； swinging in a wide detour to avoid one of those noisome regions where the dead bodies lay thickly； Ish came back to the house on San Lupo Drive。
He had learned much。 The Great Disaster…so he had begun to call it to himself…had not been plete。
Therefore he did not need immediately to mit his future to the first person he met。 He would do better to pick and choose a little； particularly since everyone he had so far seen was obviously suffering from shock。
A new idea was shaping in his mind and a new phrase with it…Secondary Kill。 Of those that the Great Disaster had spared； many would fall victim to some trouble from which civilization had previously protected them。 With unlimited liquor they would drink themselves to death。 There had been； he guessed； murder； almost certainly there had been suicide。 Some； like the old man； who ordinarily would have lived normal enough lives； would be pushed over the line into insanity by shock and the need of readjustment； such ones would probably not survive long。 Some would meet with accident； being alone； they would die。 Others would die of disease which no one was left to treat。 He knew that； biologically speaking； there was a critical point in the numbers of any species…if the numbers were reduced below this point； the species could not recover。
Was mankind going to survive？ Well； that was one of those interesting points which gave him the will to live。 But certainly the result of his day's research gave him little confidence。 In fact； if these survivors were typical； who would wish mankind to survive？
He had started out in the morning with a Robinson…Cmsoe feeling that he would wele any human panionship。 He had ended with the certainty that he would rather be alone until he found someone more congenial than the day had offered。 The sluttish woman had been the only one who had even seemed to want his pany； and there had been treachery and death in her invitation。 Even if he found a shot…gun and bushwhacked her boy…friend； she could offer only the grossest physical panionship； and at the thought of her he felt revulsion。 As for that other girl…the young one…the only way to make her acquaintance would be by means of a lasso or a bear…trap。 And like the old man she would probably turn out to be crazy。
No； the Great Disaster had shown no predilection toward sparing the nice people； and the survivors had not been rendered pleasanter as the result of the ordeal through which they had passed。
He prepared some supper； and ate； but without appetite。 Afterwards he tried to read； but the words had as little savor as the food。 He still thought of Mr。 Barlow and the others； in one way or another； each in his own manner； everyone whom he 38 George R Stewart had seen that day was going to pieces。 He did not think that he himself was。 But was he actually still sane？ Was he too； perhaps； suffering from shock？ In calm self…consciousness h（ thought about it。 After a while he took pencil and paper； deciding to write down what qualifications he had； why he might be going to live； even with some degree of happiness； while the others were not。
First of all； without hesitation； he scribbled：
1） Have will to live。 Want to see what will happen in world without man； and how。 Geographer。
Beneath this he wrote other notes。
2） Always was solitary。 Don't have to talk to other people。
3） Have appendix out。
4） Moderately practical； though not mechanical。 Camper。
5） Did not suffer devastating experience of living through it all； seeing family； other people； die。 Thus escaped worst of shock。
He paused； looking at his last note。 At least he could hope that it was true。
Still he sat staring； and thinking。 He could list others of his qualities； such as his being intellectually oriented； and therefore； he supposed； adaptable to new circumstances。 He could list that he was a reader and so had still available an important means of relaxation and escape。 'At the same time he was more than a mere reader in that he knew also the means of research through books； and thus possessed a powerful tool for reconstruction。
His fingers tightened about the pencil for a moment while he considered writing down that he was not superstitious。 This might be important。 Otherwise he would even now； like the old man； be fighting the fear that the whole disaster had been the work of an angry God； who had now wiped out his people by pestilence as once before by flood； leaving Ish （though as yet unsupplied with wife and children） like another Noah to repopulate the emptiness。 But such thoughts opened up the way to madness。 Yes； he realized； if a man began to think of himself as divinely appointed； he was close to thinking of himself as God…and at that point lay insanity。
〃No；〃 he thought。 〃What happens； at least I shall never believe that I am a god。 No； I shall never be a god！〃
Then； his flight of ideas still continuing； he realized that in some ways； very curiously； he felt a new security and even satisfaction at the contemplation of a solitary life。。 His worries in the old days had been chiefly about people。 The prospect of going to a dance had more than once sent him into a sweat； he had never been a good mixer； no one had asked him to join a fraternity。 In the old days； such things were a handicap to a man。 Now； he realized； they were actually a great advantage。 Because he had sat on the edge of so many social gatherings； not quite。 able to mingle in the conversation； listening； watching objectively； now he could endure not being able to talk； and again could sit and watch； noting what happened。 His weakness had bee strength。 It was as if there had been a blind man in a world suddenly bereft of light。 In that world； those with seeing eyes could only blunder abo