Now we had come face to face with the first law, "Adapt yourselves or die." Some of us adapted ourselves to the new conditions, but for those who failed---- A few days later one began to notice a faint, sickly smell in the streets, and when the air was still, a thin, white mist hanging above the roofs. This bred the pestilence. For there was famine such as had never been known in human annals, famine in the midst of a great abundance. It must not be thought that there was any lack of food either in London or the provinces. Brand had seen to it. At the beginning many families laid in stores of victuals, filled their water tanks, fortified their homes, and gallantly defended themselves by force of arms. The big employers kept their servants alive by daily issue of rations, and that long after they suspended work. The Government issued free rations for all those who were strong enough to fight their way to the depôts, and get off home again without being killed. The farmers and fishermen brought in supplies which they traded for works of art and precious merchandise, for land and houses. These men became very rich. There was plenty of food, but after the Government fell three-fifths of the whole supply was lost by pillage and burning. The fire brigade was helpless for lack of water; the police and the troops were withdrawn, dispersed, or massacred. We were reduced to the strangest shifts and expedients for money. Coins passed according to size and weight, as pence, halfpence and farthings. Thus, four sovereigns made an ounce, or penny, which would buy a small roll of bread. Ounces of tobacco, brass checks representing goods in storage, medals, gems, blankets, were common tokens of barter. A revolver cartridge would buy four ounces of meat. We lacked one old resource of former troubles--horseflesh. There were a few horses owned by rich men; but motor carriages did all the traction, and one cannot eat dynamos. It was curious, too, that panic of the naturalists concerning the Zoological Gardens. Many of the animals condemned for soup--the lions and tigers, for instance, were the last surviving examples of species and orders now wholly extinct. Thousands of starved Londoners protested concerning the lions--the British Lions. Twenty years have gone by since then, and God has touched our hair with silver in token of the eternal peace to come. And still in the deeps of the night the memory breaks into our dreams, and lifts us broad awake with a scream of horror. Yet, would we part with that dread remembrance? No, not for worlds!