Avon Fantasy Reader No. 9 — page 55: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

— not so much in physical fear as in supernatural terror of the green silent forests that had swallowed up their homes. | To the south the Aztecs took up their glass knives and flint-edged swords and drove out the ... I think they were called Spaniards. In another century the whole western continent was forgotten, save for dim, haunting recollections. . _. Growing tyranny and ignorance, a constant contraction of frontiers, rebellions of the downtrodden, who in turn became oppressors—these con- stituted the next epoch of history. tae Once I thought the tide had turned. A strong and orderly people, the Romans, arose and put most of the diminished world under their sway. But this stability proved transitory. Once again the governed rose against the governors. The Romans were driven back—from England, from Egypt, from Gaul, from Asia, from Greece. Rising from barren fields came Carthage to contest successfully Rome’s preeminence. The Romans took refuge in Rome, became unimportant, dwindled, were lost in a maze of migrations. | Their energizing thoughts flamed up for one glorious century in Athens, then ceased to carry weight. After that, the decline continued at a steady pace. Never again was I deceived into thinking the trend had changed. Except this one last -time. Because she was stony and sun-drenched and dry, full of temples and tombs, given to custom and calm, I thought Egypt would endure. The passage of almost changeless centuries encouraged me in this belief. I thought that if we had not reached the turning point, we had at’ least come to rest. : . But the rains have come, the temples and tombs fill the scars in the cliffs, and the custom and calm have given way to the restless urges of the nomad, : If there is a turning point, it will not come until man is one with the beasts. ee And Egypt must vanish like the rest. Tomorrow Maot and I set out. Our flock is gathered. Our tent is rolled. Maot is afire with youth.-She is very loving. : It will be strange in the desert. All too soon we will exchange our last - and sweetest kiss and she will prattle to me childishly and I will look after her until we find her mother. Or perhaps some day I will abandon her in the desert, and her mother will find her. | And I will go on. 53 Corniclooolks.(eo)