Thus it was in the beginning. But, just as the wild horse became the property of the bold tribesman who caught it and tamed it; just as the natural fruit of the forest belonged to him who gathered it; just as the cave or hollow tree became the dwelling of the first occupant, so the well in the thirsty plain became the property of him that had dug down to the waters; and the pasturage which one had taken up might not be taken away from him by another.
Mine was the bark hut which my labor had built; mine the canoe which my hands had hollowed out; mine the bow and arrows which I had fashioned; mine the herds and flocks, the goats and asses which I had tamed and reared and cared for till they had multiplied.
Should the idler, or the thief of the tribe, take from me that which my labor had produced? Must my canoe belong to the whole tribe? Must my garment which I had made out of the skins of the wild beast belong to the sloth who loafed in the tent while I risked my life in the woods?
Nature said, no!
Nature, speaking through elemental instinct said: “That which your labor made is yours.”
Yours the hut, yours the canoe, yours the garment of skins, yours the bow and arrows—and that was the beginning of Private Property in Personalty.
But look again at the ways of Nature and of the tribe.
Pasturage failed after awhile; natural fruits were no longer sufficient to sustain life; game disappeared from the forest; fish grew scarce in the streams. Something had to be done to make good the shortage. The soil was there, suggesting cultivation. The products of Nature must be supplemented by human industry. But before the soil could be cultivated, the trees had to be cut away; cattle and wild beasts had to be fenced out; the virgin earth had to be made the bride of toil before the fruitful seed would bring forth harvests.
Now who was to do the work?