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and　chattering　among　the　trees。



At　the　sight　of　him；　helpless；　within　the　bars　of　his

cage；　I　became　enraged。　　I　gritted　my　teeth　at　him；

danced　up　and　down；　screaming　an　incoherent　mockery　and

making　antic　faces。　　He　responded；　rushing　against　the

bars　and　roaring　back　at　me　his　impotent　wrath。　　Ah；　he

knew　me；　too；　and　the　sounds　I　made　were　the　sounds　of

old　time　and　intelligible　to　him。



My　parents　were　frightened。　　〃The　child　is　ill；〃　said

my　mother。　〃He　is　hysterical；〃　said　my　father。　　I　never

told　them；　and　they　never　knew。　　Already　had　I

developed　reticence　concerning　this　quality　of　mine；

this　semi…disassociation　of　personality　as　I　think　I　am

justified　in　calling　it。



I　saw　the　snake…charmer；　and　no　more　of　the　circus　did

I　see　that　night。　　I　was　taken　home；　nervous　and

overwrought；　sick　with　the　invasion　of　my　real　life　by

that　other　life　of　my　dreams。



I　have　mentioned　my　reticence。　　Only　once　did　I　confide

the　strangeness　of　it　all　to　another。　　He　was　a　boymy

chum；　and　we　were　eight　years　old。　　From　my　dreams　I

reconstructed　for　him　pictures　of　that　vanished　world

in　which　I　do　believe　I　once　lived。　　I　told　him　of　the

terrors　of　that　early　time；　of　Lop…Ear　and　the　pranks

we　played；　of　the　gibbering　councils；　and　of　the　Fire

People　and　their　squatting　places。



He　laughed　at　me；　and　jeered；　and　told　me　tales　of

ghosts　and　of　the　dead　that　walk　at　night。　　But　mostly

did　he　laugh　at　my　feeble　fancy。　　I　told　him　more；　and

he　laughed　the　harder。　　I　swore　in　all　earnestness　that

these　things　were　so；　and　he　began　to　look　upon　me

queerly。　　Also；　he　gave　amazing　garblings　of　my　tales

to　our　playmates；　until　all　began　to　look　upon　me

queerly。



It　was　a　bitter　experience；　but　I　learned　my　lesson。　　I

was　different　from　my　kind。　　I　was　abnormal　with

something　they　could　not　understand；　and　the　telling　of

which　would　cause　only　misunderstanding。　　When　the

stories　of　ghosts　and　goblins　went　around；　I　kept

quiet。　　I　smiled　grimly　to　myself。　　I　thought　of　my

nights　of　fear；　and　knew　that　mine　were　the　real

thingsreal　as　life　itself；　not　attenuated　vapors　and

surmised　shadows。



For　me　no　terrors　resided　in　the　thought　of　bugaboos

and　wicked　ogres。　　The　fall　through　leafy　branches　and

the　dizzy　heights；　the　snakes　that　struck　at　me　as　I

dodged　and　leaped　away　in　chattering　flight；　the　wild

dogs　that　hunted　　me　across　the　open　spaces　to　the

timberthese　were　terrors　concrete　and　actual；

happenings　and　not　imaginings；　things　of　the　living

flesh　and　of　sweat　and　blood。　Ogres　and　bugaboos　and　I

had　been　happy　bed…fellows；　compared　with　these　terrors

that　made　their　bed　with　me　throughout　my　childhood；

and　that　still　bed　with　me；　now；　as　I　write　this；　full

of　years。







CHAPTER　II





I　have　said　that　in　my　dreams　I　never　saw　a　human

being。　　Of　this　fact　I　became　aware　very　early；　and

felt　poignantly　the　lack　of　my　own　kind。　　As　a　very

little　child；　even；　I　had　a　feeling；　in　the　midst　of

the　horror　of　my　dreaming；　that　if　I　could　find　but　one

man；　only　one　human；　I　should　be　saved　from　my

dreaming；　that　I　should　be　surrounded　no　more　by

haunting　terrors。　　This　thought　obsessed　me　every　night

of　my　life　for　yearsif　only　I　could　find　that　one

human　and　be　saved！



I　must　iterate　that　I　had　this　thought　in　the　midst　of

my　dreaming；　and　I　take　it　as　an　evidence　of　the

merging　of　my　two　personalities；　as　evidence　of　a　point

of　contact　between　the　two　disassociated　parts　of　me。

My　dream　personality　lived　in　the　long　ago；　before　ever

man；　as　we　know　him；　came　to　be；　and　my　other　and

wake…a…day　personality　projected　itself；　to　the　extent

of　the　knowledge　of　man's　existence；　into　the　substance

of　my　dreams。



Perhaps　the　psychologists　of　the　book　will　find　fault

with　my　way　of　using　the　phrase；　〃disassociation　of

personality。〃　I　know　their　use　of　it；　yet　am　compelled

to　use　it　in　my　own　way　in　default　of　a　better　phrase。

I　take　shelter　behind　the　inadequacy　of　the　English

language。　　And　now　to　the　explanation　of　my　use；　or

misuse；　of　the　phrase。



It　was　not　till　I　was　a　young　man；　at　college；　that　I

got　any　clew　to　the　significance　of　my　dreams；　and　to

the　cause　of　them。　　Up　to　that　time　they　had　been

meaningless　and　without　apparent　causation。　　But　at

college　I　discovered　evolution　and　psychology；　and

learned　the　explanation　of　various　strange　mental

states　and　experiences。　　For　instance；　there　was　the

falling…through…space　dreamthe　commonest　dream

experience；　one　practically　known；　by　first…hand

experience；　to　all　men。



This；　my　professor　told　me；　was　a　racial　memory。　　It

dated　back　to　our　remote　ancestors　who　lived　in　trees。

With　them；　being　tree…dwellers；　the　liability　of

falling　was　an　ever…present　menace。　Many　lost　their

lives　that　way；　all　of　them　experienced　terrible　falls；

saving　themselves　by　clutching　branches　as　they　fell

toward　the　ground。



Now　a　terrible　fall；　averted　in　such　fashion；　was

productive　of　shock。　　Such　shock　was　productive　of

molecular　changes　in　the　cerebral　cells。　　These

molecular　changes　were　transmitted　to　the　cerebral

cells　of　progeny；　became；　in　short；　racial　memories。

Thus；　when　you　and　I；　asleep　or　dozing　off　to　sleep；

fall　through　space　and　awake　to　sickening　consciousness

just　before　we　strike；　we　are　merely　remembering　what

happened　to　our　arboreal　ancestors；　and　which　has　been

stamped　by　cerebral　changes　into　the　heredity　of　the

race。



There　is　nothing　strange　in　this；　any　more　than　there

is　anything　strange　in　an　instinct。　　An　instinct　is

merely　a　habit　that　is　stamped　into　the　stuff　of　our

heredity；　that　is　all。　　It　will　be　noted；　in　passing；

that　in　this　falling　dream　which　is　so　familiar　to　you

and　me　and　all　of　us；　we　never　strike　bottom。　　To

strike　bottom　would　be　destruction。　　Those　of　our

arboreal　ancestors　who　struck　bottom　died　forthwith。

True；　the　shock　of　their　fall　was　communicated　to　the

cerebral　cells；　but　they　died　immediately；　before　they

could　have　progeny。　　You　and　I　are　descended　from　those

that　did　not　strike　bottom；　that　is　why　you　and　I；　in

our　dreams；　never　strike　bottom。



And　now　we　come　to　disassociation　of　personality。　　We

never　have　this　sense　of　falling　when　we　are　wide

awake。　　Our　wake…a…day　personality　has　no　experience　of

it。　　Thenand　here　the　argument　is　irresistibleit

must　be　another　and　distinct　personality　that　falls

when　we　are　asleep；　and　that　has　had　experience　of　such

fallingthat　has；　in　short；　a　memory　of　past…day　race

experiences；　just　as　our　wake…a…day　personality　has　a

memory　of　our　wake…a…day　experiences。



It　was　at　this　stage　in　my　reasoning　that　I　began　to

see　the　light。　　And　quickly　the　light　burst　upon　me

with　dazzling　brightness；　illuminating　and　explaining

all　that　had　been　weird　and　uncanny　and　unnaturally

impossible　in　my　dream　experiences。　In　my　sleep　it　was

not　my　wake…a…day　personality　that　took　charge　of　me；

it　was　another　and　distinct　personality；　possessing　a

new　and　totally　different　fund　of　experiences；　and；　to

the　point　of　my　dreaming；　possessing　memories　of　those

totally　different　experiences。



What　was　this　personality？　When　had　it　itself　lived　a

wake…a…day　life　on　this　planet　in　order　to　collect　this

fund　of　strange　experiences？　These　were　questions　that

my　dreams　themselves　answered。　　He　lived　in　the　long

ago；　when　the　world　was　young；　in　that　period　that　we

call　the　Mid…Pleistocene。　　He　fell　from　the　trees　but

did　not　strike　bottom。　　He　gibbered　with　fear　at　the

roaring　of　the　lions。　　He　was　pursued　by　beasts　of

prey；　struck　at　by　deadly　snakes。　　He　chattered　with

his　kind　in　council；　and　he　received　rough　usage　at　the

hands　of　the　Fire　People　in　the　day　that　he　fled　before

them。



But；　I　hear　you　objecting；　why　is　it　that　these　racial

memories　are　not　ours　as　well；　seeing　that　we　have　a

vague　other…personality　that　falls　through