SATURDAY. -- I escaped last Tuesday night, and
traveled two days, and built me another shelter in a
secluded place, and obliterated my tracks as well as I
could, but she hunted me out by means of a beast
which she has tamed and calls a wolf, and came
making that pitiful noise again, and shedding that
water out of the places she looks with. I was
obliged to return with her, but will presently emi-
grate again when occasion offers. She engages her-
self in many foolish things; among others, to study
out why the animals called lions and tigers live on
grass and flowers, when, as she says, the sort of teeth
they wear would indicate that they were intended to
eat each other. This is foolish, because to do that
would be to kill each other, and that would introduce
what, as I understand it, is called "death"; and
death, as I have been told, has not yet entered the
Park. Which is a pity, on some accounts.
TUESDAY. -- She told me she was made out of a
rib taken from my body. This is at least doubtful,
if not more than that. I have not missed any rib.
....She is in much trouble about the buzzard;
says grass does not agree with it; is afraid she can't
raise it; thinks it was intended to live on decayed
flesh. The buzzard must get along the best it can
with what it is provided. We cannot overturn the
whole scheme to accommodate the buzzard.
SATURDAY. -- She fell in the pond yesterday when
she was looking at herself in it, which she is always
doing. She nearly strangled, and said it was most
uncomfortable. This made her sorry for the crea-
tures which live in there, which she calls fish, for
she continues to fasten names on to things that don't
need them and don't come when they are called by
them, which is a matter of no consequence to her,
she is such a numskull, anyway; so she got a lot of
them out and brought them in last night and put
them in my bed to keep warm, but I have noticed
them now and then all day and I don't see that they
are any happier there than they were before, only
quieter. When night comes I shall throw them
outdoors. I will not sleep with them again, for I
find them clammy and unpleasant to lie among when
a person hasn't anything on.
TUESDAY. -- She has taken up with a snake now.
The other animals are glad, for she was always ex-
perimenting with them and bothering them; and I
am glad because the snake talks, and this enables me
to get a rest.
FRIDAY. -- She says the snake advises her to try
the fruit of that tree, and says the result will be a
great and fine and noble education. I told her there
would be another result, too -- it would introduce
death into the world, That was a mistake -- it had
been better to keep the remark to myself; it only
gave her an idea -- she could save the sick buzzard,
and furnish fresh meat to the despondent lions and
tigers. I advised her to keep away from the tree.
She said she wouldn't. I foresee trouble. Will
emigrate.
WEDNESDAY. -- I have had a variegated time. I
escaped last night, and rode a horse all night as fast
as he could go, hoping to get clear out of the Park
and hide in some other country before the trouble
should begin; but it was not to be. About an hour
after sun-up, as I was riding through a flowery plain
where thousands of animals were grazing, slumber-
ing, or playing with each other, according to their
wont, all of a sudden they broke into a tempest of
frightful noises, and in one moment the plain was a
frantic commotion and every beast was destroying
its neighbor. I knew what it meant -- Eve had
eaten that fruit, and death was come into the world.
....The tigers ate my horse, paying no attention
when I ordered them to desist, and they would have
eaten me if I had stayed...