Through a  carré  hole in the  sombre ,  Jacob  walks on the brambles. Not regular brambles, but Million Year Old brambles, which dried out after the last Great Flood, and have just sat here since in the windless  air . One of the great  perdu  treasures of archaeobiology,  perdu  to the crunching  pieds  of the unthinking.     En Moins d'une heure, j'étais au seuil d'une maison de terre battue, inachevée.