" Leaving the town I scanned the faces of the
passers-by apprehensively, and said "Good-morning" or "Good-evening"
very meekly to all dangerous-looking persons, but a fortnight later
I was even strutting on the road with a smile almost malicious on my
lips.
I felt myself growing wilder. The truth broke upon me in an
introspective moment one morning as I was nearing Sotchi. I felt I had
changed. I stopped to take stock of my new life and ways. I had been
living in the forest and on the seashore, away from mankind, on
Nature's gifts. All my days from dawn to sunset I hunted for food. My
life was food-hunting. I certainly wrote not a line and thought less.
In my mind formed only such elementary ideas as "Soon more grapes,"
"These berries are not the best," "More walnuts," "Oh, a spring; I
must drink there."
Something from the ancient past was awakened. I saw a bunch of wild
grapes, my heart leapt, and without a thought I jumped to it and took
it. Or I saw a fresh trickling stream pouring over the ledges of the
rocks, and I rushed and pressed my lips to the bubbling water. There
was no intermediary between Nature's gifts and the man who needed
them. Wish was translated into act without the aid of thought.
One day I was lost in the forest among the giant tangles and I was not
at all anxious to find the way out again.
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