I dreamt that I was with a few savages who discovered an aircraft engine in the woods. It was buried under a tangle of gnarled roots and rotten foliage. Their consternation was amazing to witness. Somehow I knew that we were some thirty-thousand years into the future, when bits and pieces of the present civilization would occasionally be discovered in the strangest of places. All I was interested in was the attitude of the savages toward these remnants of the past, but the dream was vague on such things. I could not discern whether they adored or abhorred their forebears. Even more, I was not sure that they understood that the aircraft engine was actually made by their forebears. I woke up in the middle of the night quite disappointed with my dream. It returned several times during the rest of the night, but I never got any wiser. All I could see was that parts of the engine would be used as amulets. I remember a cogwheel hanging around the neck of one of the savages I was with. It must have come from some other find of this kind. When I woke up in the morning, my disappointment with the dream was at its highest.