by Daniel Quinn
“The child looks at the sea that rolls endlessly across the plains and calls it grass. But this is not grass. This is deer and bison and sheep and cicadas and moles and rabbits. This handful of stalks here—this is a mouse. And the mouse, the ox, the gazelle, the goat, and the beetle all burn with the fire of grass. Grass is their mother and father, and their young are grass.
“The child sees a swarm of creatures dancing across the plain and calls them grasshoppers. But he’s only looking at their horny shells. They’re not grasshoppers. They’re sparrows, and soon their armor will be transformed into feathers and they’ll take their dance into the sky.
“One thing: grass and grasshopper. One thing: grasshopper and sparrow. One thing: sparrow and fox. One thing: fox and vulture. One thing, and its name is fire, burning today as a stalk in the field, tomorrow as a rabbit in its burrow, and the next day as a man in his tent.
“The vulture is fox; the fox, grasshopper; the grasshopper, rabbit; the rabbit, man; the man, grass. All together, we are the life of this place, indistinguishable from one another, intermingling in the flow of fire, and the fire is god.
“To each is given its moment in the blaze, its spark to be surrendered to another when it is sent, so that the blaze may go on. None may deny its spark to the general blaze and live forever. Each is sent to another someday. You are sent; you are on your way. I am sent. To the wolf or the lion or the vulture or the grasses, I am sent.
“My death is the life of another, and I will stand again in the windswept grasses and look through the eyes of the fox and take the air with the eagle and run in the track of the deer.”
For a time Adam was silent. Then he went on: “The second gift of wisdom is the gift of tracking, of discerning the true course of things. As my father showed them to me, I show you now the tracks of everything.
“Remember the place by the rock, the place under the little hills, the place in the marsh, the place in the desert, and the place by the river that runs into the sea. These in their order and season are our tracks through time, landmarks found for our journey across the hand of god. This journey embeds us in the cycle of life, in the fire that burns forever. In it, we find our place. In it, we live. A tent is not our shelter. Rather, the journey is our shelter. The journey is the song we make of our lives. We’re not crafters of axes or spears or tents or baskets. These are trifles. We are seekers of holy places.
“We make our journey in the company of others; the deer, the rabbit, the bison, and the quail walk before us, and the lion, the eagle, the wolf, the vulture, and the hyena walk behind us. All our paths lie together in the hand of god and none is wider than any other or favored above any other. The worm that creeps beneath your foot is making its journey across the hand of god as surely as you are.
“Wherever life moves, the hand of god is under it, so no step can be off the path. When you stumble on the mountainside, that is part of your path. When your child is sick and you turn aside from the hunt, that is part of your path. When you wander hungry in the desert and cannot find your way, you’re not lost, you’re on your path. When cunning fails and your prey eludes you, don’t curse your luck; this fruitless hunt is part of your path.
“Many paths end at the point of your spear or on the edge of your harvesting knife. What you take, take compassionately, saying, ‘You are sent to me by the god. I take you for my need.’ Remember that when hunter and prey meet, both are standing in their tracks. You are sent to the deer no less than the deer is sent to you, and the god means the deer to have your gift as surely as it means you to have the deer’s.
“We share this world with others who are not beasts or men or the spirits of men or gods. They are denizens of wastelands and barrens, of deserts and high places where nothing grows, and they don’t follow the deer or the quail, nor are they followed by the lion or the hyena. All the same, they’re making their journey in the hand of the god just as we are. What destiny they pursue in their journey I cannot say, for their tracks run beyond ours and where they end no man will ever know. Nevertheless all journeys are in the hand of god, and it may be that theirs and ours are being woven together even now. For from each generation a few of us are called to track them to their haunts and, through contending with them, to win their alliance and their guidance to power and wisdom beyond the common run. If you’re ever prompted to search them out, arm yourself with courage and discretion, as you would for a battle for your life. They’re not to be trifled with.
“Remember that your tracks are one strand of the web woven endlessly in the hand of god. They’re tied to those of the mouse in the field, the eagle on the mountain, the crab in its hold, the lizard beneath its rock. The leaf that falls to the ground a thousand miles away touches your life. The impress of your foot in the soil is felt through a thousand generations.
“Remember too that the person standing in your tracks is you. Never say, like a child, ‘My brother made me do this’ or ‘My wife made me do this’ or ‘The gods made me do this.’ The tracks you make are your own. Stand in them bravely.”
Next Adam said: “The third gift of wisdom is the gift of reading the message of events. When the gods made the universe, they made it in such a way that all who have eyes to see can read the Law of Life in it. They wrote it in things, not in words, so that not only man but the snail and the mosquito and the rabbit could read it.
“This is why no man will ever succeed in framing the Law in words: it is too simple for words. Should you meet some skeptic who says to you, ‘Where is this Law? I see no Law,’ tell him to watch the wolf and the deer and the jackal and live as they do. These creatures see the Law and are following it, and there are no criminals among them.
“From time to time some creature will go mad and break the Law of Life. This happens among beasts and men as well. Their dreams are incomprehensible; they imagine that the spark of life in them belongs to them forever and need not be returned to the general blaze.
“When this happens to a man, he’s capable of anything. He’ll stir up trouble among his companions, assault them, even murder them. In time of need, he’ll refuse to share what he has. He’ll say, ‘This is my spear, don’t touch it; if you die for lack of a spear, then die.’ A man like this must be stopped, but not with cruelty; with pity, for he has somehow been injured in spirit and has gone mad. The Law of Life will tell you how this is to be done. If there’s nowhere to put your sleeping mat except on the place where the thornbush grows, you pluck it out, saying, ‘I pluck you out of need, because I am only a man and must sleep in order to live.’ If there’s nowhere to put your camp except by the rock where the viper lives, you drive the viper away. But if it will not be driven away, then you kill it, saying, ‘I kill you out of need, because I am only a man and must move around my camp without having to watch out for vipers.’
“If it comes to this, you must deal with troublemakers in the same way, because you are only men and women and must live in harmony among yourselves. At first, make fun of the troublemaker and let him see with good humor that his behavior makes him a fool. If he reforms, cease your joking and never refer to his misbehavior again. But if he doesn’t reform, draw away from him until he has no one to talk to, no one to hunt with, no one to help him if he’s sick or injured. If he then comes to you and says, ‘I made a good kill today, let’s share it,’ you’ll know he wants to reform. Receive him back into the community without a word of reproach and let him mend his ways. But if he doesn’t reform and continues to make trouble for those around him, drive him away and post a guard to see that he doesn’t return. If, after a time, he asks to be allowed to join the circle around the fire once again or somehow demonstrates his willingness to reform, receive him back into the community without a word of reproach and treat him as you did before he became a troublemaker. But if he still doesn’t reform and refuses to be driven away and continues to assault the harmony of the community, then, if all agree, he must be killed. This should be done by his own family, if possible;
then there will be no reproach for the rest of the community later on. Let him be killed in his sleep, if possible, and mercifully, saying, ‘We kill you out of need, because we are only humans and must live as humans without cowering before the madness that afflicts you.”
Then Adam went on in the same vein: “God writes not only in things but in events, and to read this writing is the subtlest wisdom of all.
“You need not be afraid of pitting your strength against anything, but a wise man doesn’t throw himself against the flowing tide, saying, ‘I will overpower it.’ But neither does he let the tide sweep him away, saying, ‘Oh, the gods want my life now!’ Instead he moves across the flow and finds the channel of retreat that the gods have left for him.
“Here’s a story for you about this: One day a man was out hunting and saw a ram on the hillside. He said to himself, ‘I don’t know whether this ram is mine or whether it has some business to finish, but there’s only one way to find out.’ And he pursued the ram with all his strength. But before long, he stumbled on a stone and fell down. He picked himself up, saying, ‘Well, it may be that the gods have other plans for this ram, but there’s still only one way to find out,’ and he hurried on. But before long, he slipped on a root and fell into a gully. Without pausing to count his bruises, he picked himself up again, saying, ‘Perhaps that ram has another day to live. Nevertheless, there’s still only one way to find out,’ and he continued the chase like a true hunter. But before long, he dislodged a stone and started a landslide that carried him halfway down the hill, covering him with bumps and bruises. Still, he picked himself up and started off again, saying, ‘This may be my day to go hungry, but, in spite of everything, there’s only one way to find out.’
“Now as it happens, the ram did indeed have some business to finish, and the gods had not meant it for the man. But seeing how determined the hunter was, the gods said to themselves, ‘It seems that this man’s need is greater than the ram’s business, so let’s give it to him.’ And before long, without any more mishaps, the hunter closed with his quarry and killed it. ‘At last I know!’ the hunter said to himself then. ‘This ram was mine in spite of everything.’ And of course he was right.
“Now here’s a second story about this. It’s about the same hunter and it goes along in the same way up to the point of the landslide. As before, the ram did have some business to finish and the gods had not meant it for the man. But, in spite of the man’s determination, the gods knew that the ram’s business was greater than the man’s need, and they could not let him have it. So they said to themselves, ‘The hunter must be stopped from killing this ram.’ And sure enough, a little while later the hunter fell into a crevice and twisted his ankle so that he could hardly walk. ‘At last I know!’ the hunter cried then. ‘This ram had some business to finish and he wasn’t mine.’ And of course he was right.
“Now here’s a third story about this. It’s about the same hunter and it goes along in the same way up to the point of the man’s falling into the crevice and twisting his ankle. Instead of accepting the fact that the ram was not his, the hunter pulled himself up and limped ahead in terrible pain, saying, ‘In spite of everything, there’s still only one way to find out!’
“Now the gods were baffled at this man’s folly and wondered what they could do to stop him. ‘It would seem,’ they said to themselves, ‘that nothing less than toppling the mountain over on him will make him abandon his hunt.’ And sure enough, before long, the mountain toppled over on the man, and just before he was crushed under it, he said, ‘At last I know!’ And that was the end of him.
“These three stories were given to me by my father, and I don’t know any better way to tell you about this than to repeat them. When you act, act wholeheartedly and with an undivided will, but leave your ears open to the message of events and don’t force the gods to topple mountains onto you before you understand.”
Then Adam said, “Now here’s another story for you in the same vein. It happened once that a band of lions and a band of wolves lived in adjoining territories, and each was an annoyance to the other, for one time the wolves would hunt in the lions’ territory and another time the lions would hunt in the wolves’ territory. So the lions finally said to themselves, ‘Let’s put an end to this rivalry once and for all. Tonight, near dawn, let’s fall upon the wolves and destroy them down to the last cub.’ And that’s exactly what they did.
“Thereafter the lions had an easy time of it indeed. Since they didn’t have to share it with the wolves, the game became so plentiful that they hardly had to do more than step outside their den to capture a meal. They had many cubs, who grew up well fed and playful. But one old lion looked at what was happening and said, ‘I think we’ve made a mistake. Our cubs are growing up fat and slow and placid. This is not the way lions should be. They should be lean and fast and fierce, as we were when we were young.’
“The other lions laughed at him and said, ‘How can our cubs be lean when there’s so much game? Why should they be fast when they need only reach out a paw to have a meal? And why should they be fierce when our enemies have all been destroyed?’
“So the old lion was silenced, and the cubs grew to maturity as fat and slow and good-natured as puppies. But one day a pack of wild dogs appeared from the north, driven from their territory by drought. They were lean and hungry and fast and fierce, and when the lions objected to their encroachment, the dogs fell upon the lions and easily tore them to shreds.
“So you see that the old lion was right. Although the lions were not wise enough to see it, their ancient rivals, the wolves, and been keeping them alive, and when they destroyed the wolves they destroyed themselves as well. Even if the pack of dogs hadn’t come along, the first drought or flood to come along would have finished them off as easily. But of course this is only a story. Lions know the Law of Life and follow it and would never behave so foolishly.
“Like the lions, men are predators, and like all predators, we get tired of competing with others for game. But however tired we become of them, these competitors are needful to our life, for without them we’d grow fat and slow and placid, and sooner or later we’d perish. All this is true of our human rivals as well. From time to time we show our neighbors that we haven’t grown fat and placid—and they do the same for us!
“When the need arises, be fierce and resolute in battle, but remember that these rivals are sent to you for your life as surely as the deer. Respect them as you respect the deer and be generous to the wives and children of those you slay in battle; a warrior who is both valiant and greathearted will be sung for many generations.”
Then Adam said in the same vein:
“Just as no amount of effort will block the tide, no amount of effort will bring an event to fruition before its time. A man cannot learn to be a hunter before he becomes a hunter. Hunting simply cannot be learned in advance of hunting. It’s the same with becoming an adult. A child can no more learn to be an adult before he’s an adult than a man can learn to be a hunter before he hunts. This is why everything is permitted to you today, because you’re still a child. But tomorrow, when you’re a man, the things permitted to you as a child will be permitted to you no longer. If today you smash your spear against a rock in a fit of temper, I will laugh and make you a new one, because today you’re still a child. But if you do the same tomorrow you’ll make a new spear for yourself or go hungry, because tomorrow you’ll be a man, even as I am, and must begin to be responsible for your life.
“This is the meaning of the rites of initiation into adulthood: not that you have learned to be an adult, but that you must begin to learn. The day after your initiation, your thoughts will be the same as those of the day before, but you will nevertheless be accorded the rights of an adult and be expected to fulfill the obligations of an adult. And you will learn to cope with both in the same way you learned to be a hunter: by beginning.”
At last Adam said: “You’re beginning to know the Law of Life. I too am b
eginning to know the Law of Life. If you ask me on my last day, as I close my eyes for the last time, whether I know the Law of Life, I’ll tell you: ‘I’m beginning to know it.’
“If any man tells you he knows the whole of the Law of Life or that he can encompass it in words, that man is a fool or a liar, because the Law of Life is written in the universe and no man can know the whole of it. If ever you’re in doubt about the Law, consult the caterpillar or the gull or the jackal; no man will ever know it better or follow it more steadfastly than they.”
Then, in concluding, Adam said: “Wisdom is the gift I give to you, nothing else. This is my legacy to you, the legacy I received from my father and he received from his father. It is the legacy of generations, from one to the next for all time. Your tools will grow blunt, your spears will shatter, your tents will crumble, your twine will fray, but this knowledge I’ve given you will not wear out. In a thousand generations it will still be as strong as it was a thousand generations ago.”
