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Title:TheCalloftheWild

Author:JackLondon

ReleaseDate:July1,2008[EBook#215]

Lastupdated:August30,2019

Language:English

***STARTOFTHISPROJECTGUTENBERGEBOOKTHECALLOFTHEWILD***

ProducedbyRyan,Kirstin,LindaandRickTrapp,andDavidWidger

The Ca l l o f t he Wi ld

byJackLondon

Contents

ChapterI.IntothePrimitiveChapterII.TheLawofClubandFangChapterIII.TheDominantPrimordialBeastChapterIV.WhoHasWontoMastershipChapterV.TheToilofTraceChapterVI.FortheLoveofaManChapterVII.TheSoundingoftheCall

ChapterI.IntothePrimitive

“Oldlongingsnomadicleap,Chafingatcustom’schain;AgainfromitsbrumalsleepWakenstheferinestrain.”

Buckdidnotreadthenewspapers,orhewouldhaveknownthattroublewasbrewing,not alone forhimself, but for every tide-waterdog, strongofmuscleand with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego. Because men,gropingintheArcticdarkness,hadfoundayellowmetal,andbecausesteamshipand transportation companies were booming the find, thousands of men wererushingintotheNorthland.Thesemenwanteddogs,andthedogstheywantedwereheavydogs,withstrongmusclesbywhichtotoil,andfurrycoatstoprotectthemfromthefrost.Bucklivedatabighouseinthesun-kissedSantaClaraValley.JudgeMiller’s

place, itwas called. It stoodback from the road,halfhiddenamong the trees,through which glimpses could be caught of the wide cool veranda that ranarounditsfoursides.Thehousewasapproachedbygravelleddrivewayswhichwoundaboutthroughwide-spreadinglawnsandundertheinterlacingboughsoftallpoplars.At the rear thingswereonevenamorespaciousscale thanat thefront.Thereweregreatstables,whereadozengroomsandboysheldforth,rowsofvine-cladservants’cottages,anendlessandorderlyarrayofouthouses, longgrape arbors, green pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then therewas thepumping plant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where JudgeMiller’sboystooktheirmorningplungeandkeptcoolinthehotafternoon.AndoverthisgreatdemesneBuckruled.Herehewasborn,andherehehad

lived thefouryearsofhis life. Itwas true, therewereotherdogs,Therecouldnotbutbeotherdogsonsovastaplace,buttheydidnotcount.Theycameandwent,residedinthepopulouskennels,or livedobscurelyintherecessesofthehouse after the fashion of Toots, the Japanese pug, or Ysabel, the Mexicanhairless,—strange creatures that rarely put nose out of doors or set foot toground.Ontheotherhand,therewerethefoxterriers,ascoreofthematleast,whoyelpedfearfulpromisesatTootsandYsabellookingoutofthewindowsat

themandprotectedbyalegionofhousemaidsarmedwithbroomsandmops.ButBuckwasneither house-dognorkennel-dog.Thewhole realmwashis.

Heplunged into theswimming tankorwenthuntingwith theJudge’ssons;heescorted Mollie and Alice, the Judge’s daughters, on long twilight or earlymorningrambles;onwintrynightshelayattheJudge’sfeetbeforetheroaringlibraryfire;hecarriedtheJudge’sgrandsonsonhisback,orrolledtheminthegrass,andguardedtheirfootstepsthroughwildadventuresdowntothefountainin the stable yard, and even beyond,where the paddockswere, and the berrypatches. Among the terriers he stalked imperiously, and Toots and Ysabel heutterlyignored,forhewasking,—kingoverallcreeping,crawling,flyingthingsofJudgeMiller’splace,humansincluded.His father, Elmo, a huge St. Bernard, had been the Judge’s inseparable

companion,andBuckbidfairtofollowinthewayofhisfather.Hewasnotsolarge,—heweighedonlyonehundredandfortypounds,—forhismother,Shep,hadbeenaScotchshepherddog.Nevertheless,onehundredandfortypounds,towhichwas added the dignity that comes of good living and universal respect,enabledhimtocarryhimselfinrightroyalfashion.Duringthefouryearssincehispuppyhoodhehadlivedthelifeofasatedaristocrat;hehadafineprideinhimself,wasevena trifleegotistical, ascountrygentlemensometimesbecomebecauseof their insularsituation.Buthehadsavedhimselfbynotbecomingamerepamperedhouse-dog.Huntingandkindredoutdoordelightshadkeptdownthe fatandhardenedhismuscles;and tohim,as to thecold-tubbingraces, theloveofwaterhadbeenatonicandahealthpreserver.And this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, when the

KlondikestrikedraggedmenfromalltheworldintothefrozenNorth.ButBuckdid not read the newspapers, and he did not know that Manuel, one of thegardener’shelpers,wasanundesirableacquaintance.Manuelhadonebesettingsin.HelovedtoplayChineselottery.Also,inhisgambling,hehadonebesettingweakness—faithinasystem;andthismadehisdamnationcertain.Fortoplayasystemrequiresmoney,whilethewagesofagardener’shelperdonot lapovertheneedsofawifeandnumerousprogeny.TheJudgewasatameetingoftheRaisinGrowers’Association,andtheboys

were busy organizing an athletic club, on the memorable night of Manuel’streachery.NoonesawhimandBuckgooffthroughtheorchardonwhatBuckimaginedwasmerelyastroll.Andwiththeexceptionofasolitaryman,noonesawthemarriveatthelittleflagstationknownasCollegePark.ThismantalkedwithManuel,andmoneychinkedbetweenthem.“You might wrap up the goods before you deliver ’m,” the stranger said

gruffly,andManueldoubledapieceofstoutropearoundBuck’sneckunderthecollar.“Twistit,an’you’llchoke’mplentee,”saidManuel,andthestrangergrunted

areadyaffirmative.Buckhadacceptedtheropewithquietdignity.Tobesure,itwasanunwonted

performance:buthehadlearnedtotrustinmenheknew,andtogivethemcreditfor a wisdom that outreached his own. But when the ends of the rope wereplacedinthestranger’shands,hegrowledmenacingly.Hehadmerelyintimatedhisdispleasure, inhispridebelieving that to intimatewas tocommand.But tohissurprisetheropetightenedaroundhisneck,shuttingoffhisbreath.Inquickrage he sprang at theman, whomet him halfway, grappled him close by thethroat,andwithadefttwistthrewhimoveronhisback.Thentheropetightenedmercilessly,whileBuckstruggledinafury,histonguelollingoutofhismouthandhis great chest panting futilely.Never in all his life hadhebeen sovilelytreated,andneverinallhislifehadhebeensoangry.Buthisstrengthebbed,hiseyesglazed,andheknewnothingwhenthetrainwasflaggedandthetwomenthrewhimintothebaggagecar.Thenextheknew,hewasdimlyawarethathistonguewashurtingandthathe

was being jolted along in some kind of a conveyance.The hoarse shriek of alocomotivewhistling a crossing told himwhere hewas.He had travelled toooftenwith the Judgenot toknow the sensationof riding in abaggagecar.Heopenedhiseyes,and into themcame theunbridledangerofakidnappedking.Themansprangforhisthroat,butBuckwastooquickforhim.Hisjawsclosedonthehand,nordidtheyrelaxtillhissenseswerechokedoutofhimoncemore.“Yep,hasfits,”themansaid,hidinghismangledhandfromthebaggageman,

whohadbeenattractedbythesoundsofstruggle.“I’mtakin’’mupforthebossto’Frisco.Acrackdog-doctortherethinksthathecancure’m.”Concerningthatnight’sride,themanspokemosteloquentlyforhimself,ina

littleshedbackofasaloonontheSanFranciscowaterfront.“All I get is fifty for it,” he grumbled; “an’ I wouldn’t do it over for a

thousand,coldcash.”Hishandwaswrappedinabloodyhandkerchief,andtherighttrouserlegwas

rippedfromkneetoankle.“Howmuchdidtheothermugget?”thesaloon-keeperdemanded.“Ahundred,”wasthereply.“Wouldn’ttakeasouless,sohelpme.”“That makes a hundred and fifty,” the saloon-keeper calculated; “and he’s

worthit,orI’masquarehead.”Thekidnapperundidthebloodywrappingsandlookedathislaceratedhand.

“IfIdon’tgetthehydrophoby—”“It’ll be because youwas born to hang,” laughed the saloon-keeper. “Here,

lendmeahandbeforeyoupullyourfreight,”headded.Dazed, suffering intolerable pain from throat and tongue, with the life half

throttledoutofhim,Buckattemptedtofacehistormentors.Buthewasthrowndownandchokedrepeatedly,tilltheysucceededinfilingtheheavybrasscollarfromoffhisneck.Thentheropewasremoved,andhewasflungintoacagelikecrate.There he lay for the remainder of the weary night, nursing his wrath and

woundedpride.Hecouldnotunderstandwhatitallmeant.Whatdidtheywantwithhim,thesestrangemen?Whyweretheykeepinghimpentupinthisnarrowcrate? He did not know why, but he felt oppressed by the vague sense ofimpendingcalamity.Several timesduring thenighthesprang tohis feetwhenthesheddoorrattledopen,expectingtoseetheJudge,ortheboysatleast.Buteachtimeitwasthebulgingfaceofthesaloon-keeperthatpeeredinathimbythesicklylightofatallowcandle.AndeachtimethejoyfulbarkthattrembledinBuck’sthroatwastwistedintoasavagegrowl.Butthesaloon-keeperlethimalone,andinthemorningfourmenenteredand

pickedupthecrate.Moretormentors,Buckdecided,fortheywereevil-lookingcreatures, raggedandunkempt; andhe stormedand ragedat them through thebars. They only laughed and poked sticks at him,which he promptly assailedwithhisteethtillherealizedthatthatwaswhattheywanted.Whereuponhelaydownsullenlyandallowedthecratetobeliftedintoawagon.Thenhe,andthecrateinwhichhewasimprisoned,beganapassagethroughmanyhands.Clerksintheexpressofficetookchargeofhim;hewascartedaboutinanotherwagon;atruckcarriedhim,withanassortmentofboxesandparcels,uponaferrysteamer;hewas trucked off the steamer into a great railway depot, and finally hewasdepositedinanexpresscar.For two days and nights this express car was dragged along at the tail of

shriekinglocomotives;andfortwodaysandnightsBuckneitheratenordrank.In his anger he had met the first advances of the express messengers withgrowls,and theyhad retaliatedby teasinghim.Whenhe flunghimselfagainstthe bars, quivering and frothing, they laughed at him and taunted him. Theygrowled and barked like detestable dogs, mewed, and flapped their arms andcrowed. It was all very silly, he knew; but therefore the more outrage to his

dignity,andhisangerwaxedandwaxed.Hedidnotmindthehungersomuch,butthelackofwatercausedhimseveresufferingandfannedhiswrathtofever-pitch.Forthatmatter,high-strungandfinelysensitive,theilltreatmenthadflunghimintoafever,whichwasfedbytheinflammationofhisparchedandswollenthroatandtongue.Hewasgladforonething:theropewasoffhisneck.Thathadgiventheman

unfair advantage; but now that it was off, he would show them. They wouldnevergetanotherropearoundhisneck.Uponthathewasresolved.Fortwodaysand nights he neither ate nor drank, and during those two days and nights oftorment,heaccumulatedafundofwraththatbodedillforwhoeverfirstfellfoulof him.His eyes turned blood-shot, and hewasmetamorphosed into a ragingfiend.SochangedwashethattheJudgehimselfwouldnothaverecognizedhim;andtheexpressmessengersbreathedwithreliefwhentheybundledhimoffthetrainatSeattle.Fourmengingerlycarriedthecratefromthewagonintoasmall,high-walled

backyard.Astoutman,witharedsweaterthatsaggedgenerouslyat theneck,cameoutandsigned thebookfor thedriver.Thatwas theman,Buckdivined,the next tormentor, and he hurled himself savagely against the bars. Themansmiledgrimly,andbroughtahatchetandaclub.“Youain’tgoingtotakehimoutnow?”thedriverasked.“Sure,”themanreplied,drivingthehatchetintothecrateforapry.Therewasaninstantaneousscatteringofthefourmenwhohadcarriedit in,

andfromsafeperchesontopthewalltheypreparedtowatchtheperformance.Buck rushed at the splintering wood, sinking his teeth into it, surging and

wrestlingwithit.Whereverthehatchetfellontheoutside,hewasthereontheinside,snarlingandgrowling,asfuriouslyanxioustogetoutasthemanintheredsweaterwascalmlyintentongettinghimout.“Now,youred-eyeddevil,”hesaid,whenhehadmadeanopeningsufficient

for the passage ofBuck’s body.At the same time he dropped the hatchet andshiftedtheclubtohisrighthand.And Buck was truly a red-eyed devil, as he drew himself together for the

spring, hair bristling, mouth foaming, a mad glitter in his blood-shot eyes.Straight at the man he launched his one hundred and forty pounds of fury,surchargedwiththepentpassionoftwodaysandnights.Inmidair, justashisjawswereabouttocloseontheman,hereceivedashockthatcheckedhisbodyandbroughthisteethtogetherwithanagonizingclip.Hewhirledover,fetchingthegroundonhisbackandside.Hehadneverbeenstruckbyaclubinhislife,

anddidnotunderstand.Withasnarlthatwaspartbarkandmorescreamhewasagainonhisfeetandlaunchedintotheair.Andagaintheshockcameandhewasbroughtcrushingly to theground.This timehewasaware that itwas theclub,buthismadnessknewnocaution.Adozen timeshecharged, andasoften theclubbrokethechargeandsmashedhimdown.Afteraparticularlyfierceblow,hecrawledtohisfeet,toodazedtorush.He

staggered limply about, the blood flowing from nose andmouth and ears, hisbeautifulcoatsprayedandfleckedwithbloodyslaver.Then themanadvancedand deliberately dealt him a frightful blow on the nose. All the pain he hadenduredwasasnothingcomparedwiththeexquisiteagonyofthis.Witharoarthatwasalmostlionlikeinitsferocity,heagainhurledhimselfattheman.Buttheman,shiftingtheclubfromrighttoleft,coollycaughthimbytheunderjaw,at the same time wrenching downward and backward. Buck described acompletecircleintheair,andhalfofanother,thencrashedtothegroundonhisheadandchest.Forthelasttimeherushed.Themanstrucktheshrewdblowhehadpurposely

withheld for so long, andBuck crumpled up andwent down, knocked utterlysenseless.“He’snoslouchatdog-breakin’,that’swotIsay,”oneofthemenonthewall

criedenthusiastically.“Drutherbreakcayusesanyday,andtwiceonSundays,”wasthereplyofthe

driver,asheclimbedonthewagonandstartedthehorses.Buck’s senses cameback tohim,butnothis strength.He laywherehehad

fallen,andfromtherehewatchedthemanintheredsweater.“‘Answers to the name of Buck,’” the man soliloquized, quoting from the

saloon-keeper’s letter which had announced the consignment of the crate andcontents.“Well,Buck,myboy,”hewenton inagenialvoice,“we’vehadourlittleruction,andthebestthingwecandoistoletitgoatthat.You’velearnedyourplace,andIknowmine.Beagooddogandall ’llgowelland thegoosehanghigh.Beabaddog,andI’llwhalethestuffin’outayou.Understand?”Ashespokehefearlesslypattedtheheadhehadsomercilesslypounded,and

though Buck’s hair involuntarily bristled at touch of the hand, he endured itwithout protest.When theman brought himwater he drank eagerly, and laterboltedagenerousmealofrawmeat,chunkbychunk,fromtheman’shand.Hewasbeaten (heknewthat);buthewasnotbroken.Hesaw,once forall,

thathe stoodnochanceagainstamanwithaclub.Hehad learned the lesson,andinallhisafterlifeheneverforgotit.Thatclubwasarevelation.Itwashis

introductiontothereignofprimitivelaw,andhemettheintroductionhalfway.The facts of life took on a fiercer aspect; and while he faced that aspectuncowed, he faced itwith all the latent cunning of his nature aroused.As thedayswentby,otherdogscame,incratesandattheendsofropes,somedocilely,andsomeragingandroaringashehadcome;and,oneandall,hewatchedthempassunderthedominionofthemanintheredsweater.Againandagain,ashelookedateachbrutalperformance,thelessonwasdrivenhometoBuck:amanwith a club was a lawgiver, a master to be obeyed, though not necessarilyconciliated.Of this lastBuckwasneverguilty, thoughhedid seebeatendogsthatfawnedupontheman,andwaggedtheirtails,andlickedhishand.Alsohesawonedog,thatwouldneitherconciliatenorobey,finallykilledinthestruggleformastery.Nowandagainmencame,strangers,whotalkedexcitedly,wheedlingly,and

in all kinds of fashions to theman in the red sweater.And at such times thatmoneypassedbetween them the strangers tookoneormoreof thedogsawaywiththem.Buckwonderedwheretheywent,fortheynevercameback;butthefearofthefuturewasstronguponhim,andhewasgladeachtimewhenhewasnotselected.Yethistimecame,intheend,intheformofalittleweazenedmanwhospat

brokenEnglishandmanystrangeanduncouthexclamationswhichBuckcouldnotunderstand.“Sacredam!”hecried,whenhiseyeslituponBuck.“Datonedambullydog!

Eh?Howmoch?”“Threehundred,andapresentatthat,”wasthepromptreplyofthemaninthe

redsweater.“Andseem’it’sgovernmentmoney,youain’tgotnokickcoming,eh,Perrault?”Perraultgrinned.Consideringthatthepriceofdogshadbeenboomedskyward

by theunwonteddemand, itwasnot anunfair sumfor so fineananimal.TheCanadianGovernment would be no loser, nor would its despatches travel theslower.Perraultknewdogs,andwhenhe lookedatBuckheknewthathewasoneinathousand—“Oneintent’ousand,”hecommentedmentally.Buck sawmoney pass between them, andwas not surprisedwhenCurly, a

good-naturedNewfoundland,andhewereledawaybythelittleweazenedman.Thatwas the last he saw of theman in the red sweater, and asCurly and helookedatrecedingSeattlefromthedeckoftheNarwhal,itwasthelasthesawofthewarmSouthland.CurlyandheweretakenbelowbyPerraultandturnedovertoablack-facedgiantcalledFrançois.PerraultwasaFrench-Canadian,and

swarthy;butFrançoiswasaFrench-Canadianhalf-breed,andtwiceasswarthy.TheywereanewkindofmentoBuck(ofwhichhewasdestinedtoseemanymore), and while he developed no affection for them, he none the less grewhonestly to respect them.He speedily learned that Perrault and Françoiswerefairmen,calmandimpartialinadministeringjustice,andtoowiseinthewayofdogstobefooledbydogs.In the’tween-decksof theNarwhal,BuckandCurly joined twootherdogs.

One of them was a big, snow-white fellow from Spitzbergen who had beenbrought away by a whaling captain, and who had later accompanied aGeological Survey into the Barrens. Hewas friendly, in a treacherous sort ofway,smilingintoone’sfacethewhilehemeditatedsomeunderhandtrick,as,forinstance,whenhestole fromBuck’s foodat the firstmeal.AsBucksprang topunishhim,thelashofFrançois’swhipsangthroughtheair,reachingtheculpritfirst; and nothing remained toBuck but to recover the bone.Thatwas fair ofFrançois,hedecided,andthehalf-breedbeganhisriseinBuck’sestimation.Theotherdogmadenoadvances,norreceivedany;also,hedidnotattemptto

steal from the newcomers. He was a gloomy, morose fellow, and he showedCurly plainly that all he desired was to be left alone, and further, that therewouldbetroubleifhewerenotleftalone.“Dave”hewascalled,andheateandslept,oryawnedbetweentimes,andtookinterestinnothing,notevenwhentheNarwhalcrossedQueenCharlotteSoundandrolledandpitchedandbuckedlikea thingpossessed.WhenBuckandCurlygrewexcited,halfwildwith fear,heraised his head as though annoyed, favored them with an incurious glance,yawned,andwenttosleepagain.Day and night the ship throbbed to the tireless pulse of the propeller, and

thoughonedaywasverylikeanother,itwasapparenttoBuckthattheweatherwassteadilygrowingcolder.Atlast,onemorning,thepropellerwasquiet,andtheNarwhalwaspervadedwithanatmosphereofexcitement.Hefelt it,asdidtheotherdogs,andknewthatachangewasathand.Françoisleashedthemandbroughtthemondeck.Atthefirststepuponthecoldsurface,Buck’sfeetsankintoawhitemushysomethingverylikemud.Hesprangbackwithasnort.Moreofthiswhitestuffwasfallingthroughtheair.Heshookhimself,butmoreofitfelluponhim.Hesniffeditcuriously,thenlickedsomeuponhistongue.Itbitlikefire,andthenextinstantwasgone.Thispuzzledhim.Hetrieditagain,withthe same result. The onlookers laughed uproariously, and he felt ashamed, heknewnotwhy,foritwashisfirstsnow.

ChapterII.TheLawofClubandFang

Buck’s first day on the Dyea beach was like a nightmare. Every hour wasfilledwith shockand surprise.Hehadbeen suddenly jerked from theheart ofcivilizationandflungintotheheartofthingsprimordial.Nolazy,sun-kissedlifewasthis,withnothingtodobutloafandbebored.Herewasneitherpeace,norrest,noramoment’ssafety.Allwasconfusionandaction,andeverymomentlifeand limbwere in peril. Therewas imperative need to be constantly alert; forthese dogs andmenwere not town dogs andmen. Theywere savages, all ofthem,whoknewnolawbutthelawofclubandfang.Hehadneverseendogsfightas thesewolfishcreaturesfought,andhis first

experience taught him an unforgetable lesson. It is true, it was a vicariousexperience, elsehewouldnothave lived toprofitby it.Curlywas thevictim.They were camped near the log store, where she, in her friendly way, madeadvancestoahuskydogthesizeofafull-grownwolf,thoughnothalfsolargeasshe.Therewasnowarning,onlyaleapinlikeaflash,ametallicclipofteeth,aleapoutequallyswift,andCurly’sfacewasrippedopenfromeyetojaw.It was thewolfmanner of fighting, to strike and leap away; but therewas

more to it than this.Thirtyor fortyhuskies ran to thespotandsurrounded thecombatants in an intent and silent circle.Buck did not comprehend that silentintentness, nor the eagerwaywithwhich theywere licking their chops.Curlyrushedherantagonist,whostruckagainandleapedaside.Hemethernextrushwith his chest, in a peculiar fashion that tumbled her off her feet. She neverregainedthem,Thiswaswhattheonlookinghuskieshadwaitedfor.Theyclosedin upon her, snarling and yelping, and shewas buried, screamingwith agony,beneaththebristlingmassofbodies.So sudden was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw

Spitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he sawFrançois,swinginganaxe,springintothemessofdogs.Threemenwithclubswere helping him to scatter them. It did not take long.Twominutes from thetimeCurlywentdown, the lastofherassailantswereclubbedoff.Butshe laythere limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled snow, almost literally torn to

pieces, the swart half-breed standing over her and cursing horribly. The sceneoftencamebacktoBucktotroublehiminhissleep.Sothatwastheway.Nofairplay.Oncedown,thatwastheendofyou.Well,hewouldseetoitthatheneverwentdown.Spitzranouthis tongueandlaughedagain,andfromthatmomentBuckhatedhimwithabitteranddeathlesshatred.BeforehehadrecoveredfromtheshockcausedbythetragicpassingofCurly,

hereceivedanothershock.Françoisfasteneduponhimanarrangementofstrapsandbuckles.Itwasaharness,suchashehadseenthegroomsputonthehorsesat home. And as he had seen horses work, so he was set to work, haulingFrançoisonasledtotheforestthatfringedthevalley,andreturningwithaloadoffirewood.Thoughhisdignitywassorelyhurtby thusbeingmadeadraughtanimal,hewastoowisetorebel.Hebuckleddownwithawillanddidhisbest,though it was all new and strange. François was stern, demanding instantobedience, andbyvirtueof hiswhip receiving instant obedience;whileDave,whowasanexperiencedwheeler,nippedBuck’shindquarterswheneverhewasin error. Spitz was the leader, likewise experienced, and while he could notalwaysgetatBuck,hegrowledsharpreproofnowandagain,orcunninglythrewhisweight in the traces to jerkBuck into thewayhe shouldgo.Buck learnedeasily, and under the combined tuition of his two mates and François maderemarkableprogress.Eretheyreturnedtocampheknewenoughtostopat“ho,”to go ahead at “mush,” to swingwide on the bends, and to keep clear of thewheelerwhentheloadedsledshotdownhillattheirheels.“T’ree vair’ good dogs,” François told Perrault. “Dat Buck, heem pool lak

hell.Itichheemqueekasanyt’ing.”By afternoon, Perrault, who was in a hurry to be on the trail with his

despatches,returnedwithtwomoredogs.“Billee”and“Joe”hecalledthem,twobrothers,andtruehuskiesboth.Sonsoftheonemotherthoughtheywere,theywere as different as day and night. Billee’s one fault was his excessive goodnature,whileJoewastheveryopposite,sourandintrospective,withaperpetualsnarl and a malignant eye. Buck received them in comradely fashion, Daveignoredthem,whileSpitzproceededtothrashfirstoneandthentheother.Billeewaggedhistailappeasingly,turnedtorunwhenhesawthatappeasementwasofnoavail,andcried(stillappeasingly)whenSpitz’ssharpteethscoredhisflank.ButnomatterhowSpitzcircled, Joewhirledaroundonhisheels to facehim,manebristling,earslaidback,lipswrithingandsnarling,jawsclippingtogetheras fast as he could snap, and eyes diabolically gleaming—the incarnation ofbelligerent fear.So terriblewashisappearance thatSpitzwas forced to foregodisciplining him; but to cover his own discomfiture he turned upon the

inoffensiveandwailingBilleeanddrovehimtotheconfinesofthecamp.By evening Perrault secured another dog, an old husky, long and lean and

gaunt,with a battle-scarred face and a single eyewhich flashed awarning ofprowess that commanded respect. He was called Sol-leks, which means theAngryOne.LikeDave,heaskednothing,gavenothing,expectednothing;andwhenhemarched slowlyanddeliberately into theirmidst, evenSpitz lefthimalone.HehadonepeculiaritywhichBuckwasunluckyenoughtodiscover.Hedid not like to be approached on his blind side. Of this offence Buck wasunwittinglyguilty,andthefirstknowledgehehadofhisindiscretionwaswhenSol-lekswhirleduponhimandslashedhisshouldertotheboneforthreeinchesupanddown.ForeverafterBuckavoidedhisblindside,andtothelastoftheircomradeshiphadnomoretrouble.Hisonlyapparentambition,likeDave’s,wastobeleftalone;though,asBuckwasafterwardtolearn,eachofthempossessedoneotherandevenmorevitalambition.ThatnightBuckfacedthegreatproblemofsleeping.Thetent,illuminedbya

candle,glowedwarmlyinthemidstofthewhiteplain;andwhenhe,asamatterofcourse,enteredit,bothPerraultandFrançoisbombardedhimwithcursesandcookingutensils,tillherecoveredfromhisconsternationandfledignominiouslyinto theouter cold.Achillwindwasblowing that nippedhim sharply andbitwithespecialvenomintohiswoundedshoulder.Helaydownonthesnowandattemptedtosleep,butthefrostsoondrovehimshiveringtohisfeet.Miserableanddisconsolate,hewanderedaboutamongthemanytents,onlytofindthatoneplacewasascoldasanother.Hereandtheresavagedogsrusheduponhim,buthebristledhisneck-hairandsnarled(forhewaslearningfast),andtheylethimgohiswayunmolested.Finally an idea came to him.Hewould return and see how his own team-

matesweremaking out. To his astonishment, they had disappeared.Again hewanderedaboutthroughthegreatcamp,lookingforthem,andagainhereturned.Weretheyinthetent?No,thatcouldnotbe,elsehewouldnothavebeendrivenout.Thenwherecouldtheypossiblybe?Withdroopingtailandshiveringbody,veryforlornindeed,heaimlesslycircledthetent.Suddenlythesnowgavewaybeneathhisforelegsandhesankdown.Somethingwriggledunderhisfeet.Hesprang back, bristling and snarling, fearful of the unseen and unknown.But afriendly little yelp reassured him, and hewent back to investigate.Awhiff ofwarmairascendedtohisnostrils,andthere,curledupunderthesnowinasnugball,layBillee.Hewhinedplacatingly,squirmedandwriggledtoshowhisgoodwillandintentions,andevenventured,asabribeforpeace,tolickBuck’sfacewithhiswarmwettongue.

Anotherlesson.Sothatwasthewaytheydidit,eh?Buckconfidentlyselectedaspot,andwithmuchfussandwasteeffortproceededtodigaholeforhimself.Inatricetheheatfromhisbodyfilledtheconfinedspaceandhewasasleep.Thedayhadbeenlongandarduous,andhesleptsoundlyandcomfortably,thoughhegrowledandbarkedandwrestledwithbaddreams.Nordidheopenhiseyestillrousedbythenoisesofthewakingcamp.Atfirst

he did not know where he was. It had snowed during the night and he wascompletelyburied.Thesnowwallspressedhimoneveryside,andagreatsurgeoffearsweptthroughhim—thefearofthewildthingforthetrap.Itwasatokenthathewasharkingbackthroughhisownlifetothelivesofhisforebears;forhewasacivilizeddog,anundulycivilizeddog,andofhisownexperienceknewnotrap and so could not of himself fear it. The muscles of his whole bodycontracted spasmodically and instinctively, the hair on his neck and shouldersstoodonend,andwithaferocioussnarlheboundedstraightupintotheblindingday,thesnowflyingabouthiminaflashingcloud.Erehelandedonhisfeet,hesaw the white camp spread out before him and knew where he was andrememberedallthathadpassedfromthetimehewentforastrollwithManueltotheholehehaddugforhimselfthenightbefore.A shout from François hailed his appearance. “Wot I say?” the dog-driver

criedtoPerrault.“DatBuckforsurelearnqueekasanyt’ing.”Perrault nodded gravely. As courier for the Canadian Government, bearing

important despatches, he was anxious to secure the best dogs, and he wasparticularlygladdenedbythepossessionofBuck.Threemorehuskieswereaddedtotheteaminsideanhour,makingatotalof

nine,andbeforeanotherquarterofanhourhadpassedtheywereinharnessandswingingup the trail toward theDyeaCañon.Buckwasglad to begone, andthough theworkwashardhe foundhedidnot particularly despise it.Hewassurprised at the eagerness which animated the whole team and which wascommunicatedtohim;butstillmoresurprisingwasthechangewroughtinDaveand Sol-leks. They were new dogs, utterly transformed by the harness. Allpassivenessandunconcernhaddroppedfromthem.Theywerealertandactive,anxious that thework should gowell, and fiercely irritablewithwhatever, bydelayorconfusion,retardedthatwork.Thetoilofthetracesseemedthesupremeexpressionoftheirbeing,andallthattheylivedforandtheonlythinginwhichtheytookdelight.Davewaswheelerorsleddog,pullinginfrontofhimwasBuck, thencame

Sol-leks; the rest of the teamwas strung out ahead, single file, to the leader,whichpositionwasfilledbySpitz.

BuckhadbeenpurposelyplacedbetweenDaveandSol-lekssothathemightreceive instruction. Apt scholar that he was, they were equally apt teachers,neverallowinghimtolingerlonginerror,andenforcingtheirteachingwiththeirsharpteeth.Davewasfairandverywise.HenevernippedBuckwithoutcause,andheneverfailedtoniphimwhenhestoodinneedofit.AsFrançois’swhipbackedhimup,Buckfoundittobecheapertomendhiswaysthantoretaliate.Once,duringabriefhalt,whenhegottangledinthetracesanddelayedthestart,bothDave and Sol-leks flew at him and administered a sound trouncing. Theresulting tangle was even worse, but Buck took good care to keep the tracesclearthereafter;anderethedaywasdone,sowellhadhemasteredhiswork,hismatesaboutceasednagginghim.François’swhipsnapped less frequently,andPerraultevenhonoredBuckbyliftinguphisfeetandcarefullyexaminingthem.Itwasahardday’srun,uptheCañon, throughSheepCamp,past theScales

and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of feet deep, andoverthegreatChilcootDivide,whichstandsbetweenthesaltwaterandthefreshandguardsforbiddinglythesadandlonelyNorth.Theymadegoodtimedownthechainoflakeswhichfillsthecratersofextinctvolcanoes,andlatethatnightpulled into the huge camp at the head of Lake Bennett, where thousands ofgoldseekerswere building boats against the break-up of the ice in the spring.Buckmadehisholeinthesnowandsleptthesleepoftheexhaustedjust,butalltooearlywasroutedoutinthecolddarknessandharnessedwithhismatestothesled.Thatdaytheymadefortymiles,thetrailbeingpacked;butthenextday,and

formanydays to follow, theybroke their own trail,workedharder, andmadepoorer time.Asa rule,Perrault travelledaheadof the team,packing the snowwithwebbedshoestomakeiteasierforthem.François,guidingthesledatthegee-pole,sometimesexchangedplaceswithhim,butnotoften.Perraultwasinahurry, and he prided himself on his knowledge of ice, which knowledge wasindispensable, for the fall icewas very thin, andwhere therewas swiftwater,therewasnoiceatall.Day after day, for days unending, Buck toiled in the traces. Always, they

brokecampin thedark,and thefirstgrayofdawnfoundthemhitting the trailwith freshmiles reeled off behind them.And always they pitched camp afterdark, eating their bit of fish, and crawling to sleep into the snow. Buck wasravenous.Thepoundandahalfof sun-dried salmon,whichwashis ration foreach day, seemed to go nowhere. He never had enough, and suffered fromperpetualhungerpangs.Yettheotherdogs,becausetheyweighedlessandwereborntothelife,receivedapoundonlyofthefishandmanagedtokeepingood

condition.He swiftly lost the fastidiousness which had characterized his old life. A

daintyeater,hefoundthathismates,finishingfirst,robbedhimofhisunfinishedration.Therewasnodefendingit.Whilehewasfightingofftwoorthree,itwasdisappearing down the throats of the others. To remedy this, he ate as fast asthey;and,sogreatlydidhungercompelhim,hewasnotabovetakingwhatdidnotbelongtohim.Hewatchedandlearned.WhenhesawPike,oneofthenewdogs,aclevermalingererandthief,slylystealasliceofbaconwhenPerrault’sbackwasturned,heduplicatedtheperformancethefollowingday,gettingawaywiththewholechunk.Agreatuproarwasraised,buthewasunsuspected;whileDub,anawkwardblundererwhowasalwaysgettingcaught,waspunished forBuck’smisdeed.This first theft marked Buck as fit to survive in the hostile Northland

environment. It marked his adaptability, his capacity to adjust himself tochanging conditions, the lack of which would have meant swift and terribledeath.Itmarked,further,thedecayorgoingtopiecesofhismoralnature,avainthingandahandicapintheruthlessstruggleforexistence.Itwasallwellenoughin the Southland, under the law of love and fellowship, to respect privatepropertyandpersonalfeelings;butintheNorthland,underthelawofclubandfang, whoso took such things into account was a fool, and in so far as heobservedthemhewouldfailtoprosper.NotthatBuckreasoneditout.Hewasfit,thatwasall,andunconsciouslyhe

accommodatedhimselftothenewmodeoflife.Allhisdays,nomatterwhattheodds,hehadneverrunfromafight.Buttheclubofthemanintheredsweaterhadbeatenintohimamorefundamentalandprimitivecode.Civilized,hecouldhave died for amoral consideration, say the defence of JudgeMiller’s riding-whip; but the completeness of his decivilization was now evidenced by hisabilitytofleefromthedefenceofamoralconsiderationandsosavehishide.Hedidnotstealforjoyofit,butbecauseoftheclamorofhisstomach.Hedidnotrobopenly,butstolesecretlyandcunningly,outofrespectforclubandfang.Inshort,thethingshedidweredonebecauseitwaseasiertodothemthannottodothem.His development (or retrogression) was rapid. Hismuscles became hard as

iron,andhegrewcalloustoallordinarypain.Heachievedaninternalaswellasexternal economy. He could eat anything, no matter how loathsome orindigestible; and, once eaten, the juices of his stomach extracted the last leastparticleofnutriment;andhisbloodcarriedittothefarthestreachesofhisbody,building it into the toughest and stoutest of tissues. Sight and scent became

remarkablykeen,whilehishearingdevelopedsuchacutenessthatinhissleepheheardthefaintestsoundandknewwhetheritheraldedpeaceorperil.Helearnedtobitetheiceoutwithhisteethwhenitcollectedbetweenhistoes;andwhenhewas thirsty and there was a thick scum of ice over the water hole, he wouldbreakitbyrearingandstrikingitwithstiffforelegs.Hismostconspicuoustraitwas an ability to scent thewind and forecast it a night in advance.Nomatterhowbreathlesstheairwhenhedughisnestbytreeorbank,thewindthatlaterblewinevitablyfoundhimtoleeward,shelteredandsnug.Andnotonlydidhelearnbyexperience,butinstinctslongdeadbecamealive

again. The domesticated generations fell from him. In vague ways herememberedbacktotheyouthofthebreed,tothetimethewilddogsrangedinpacks through theprimeval forest andkilled theirmeat as they ran itdown. Itwasnotaskforhimtolearntofightwithcutandslashandthequickwolfsnap.Inthismannerhadfoughtforgottenancestors.Theyquickenedtheoldlifewithinhim, and theold trickswhich theyhad stamped into theheredity of thebreedwere his tricks.They came to himwithout effort or discovery, as though theyhadbeenhisalways.Andwhen,onthestillcoldnights,hepointedhisnoseatastarandhowledlongandwolflike,itwashisancestors,deadanddust,pointingnoseatstarandhowlingdownthroughthecenturiesandthroughhim.Andhiscadencesweretheircadences,thecadenceswhichvoicedtheirwoeandwhattothemwasthemeaningofthestiffness,andthecold,anddark.Thus,astokenofwhatapuppetthinglifeis,theancientsongsurgedthrough

him and he came into his own again; and he came becausemen had found ayellowmetal intheNorth,andbecauseManuelwasagardener’shelperwhosewagesdidnotlapovertheneedsofhiswifeanddiverssmallcopiesofhimself.

ChapterIII.TheDominantPrimordialBeast

The dominant primordial beast was strong in Buck, and under the fierceconditionsoftraillifeitgrewandgrew.Yetitwasasecretgrowth.Hisnewborncunninggavehimpoiseandcontrol.Hewas toobusyadjustinghimself to thenewlifetofeelatease,andnotonlydidhenotpickfights,butheavoidedthemwhenever possible.A certain deliberateness characterized his attitude.Hewasnotpronetorashnessandprecipitateaction;andinthebitterhatredbetweenhimandSpitzhebetrayednoimpatience,shunnedalloffensiveacts.On the other hand, possibly because he divined in Buck a dangerous rival,

Spitz never lost an opportunity of showinghis teeth.He evenwent out of hiswaytobullyBuck,strivingconstantlytostartthefightwhichcouldendonlyinthedeathofoneortheother.Earlyinthetripthismighthavetakenplacehaditnotbeenforanunwontedaccident.Attheendofthisdaytheymadeableakandmiserablecampon theshoreofLakeLeBarge.Drivingsnow,awind thatcutlike a white-hot knife, and darkness had forced them to grope for a campingplace.Theycouldhardlyhavefaredworse.Attheirbacksroseaperpendicularwallof rock,andPerrault andFrançoiswerecompelled tomake their fireandspread their sleeping robes on the ice of the lake itself. The tent they haddiscardedatDyea inorder to travel light.A few sticksofdriftwood furnishedthemwithafirethatthaweddownthroughtheiceandleftthemtoeatsupperinthedark.CloseinundertheshelteringrockBuckmadehisnest.Sosnugandwarmwas

it,thathewasloathtoleaveitwhenFrançoisdistributedthefishwhichhehadfirst thawedover the fire.ButwhenBuck finished his ration and returned, hefoundhisnestoccupied.AwarningsnarltoldhimthatthetrespasserwasSpitz.TillnowBuckhadavoidedtroublewithhisenemy,butthiswastoomuch.Thebeast in him roared. He sprang upon Spitz with a fury which surprised themboth, and Spitz particularly, for his whole experience with Buck had gone toteachhim thathis rivalwasanunusually timiddog,whomanaged toholdhisownonlybecauseofhisgreatweightandsize.Françoiswassurprised,too,whentheyshotoutinatanglefromthedisrupted

nestandhedivinedthecauseofthetrouble.“A-a-ah!”hecriedtoBuck.“Gifittoheem,byGar!Gifittoheem,thedirtyt’eef!”Spitzwasequallywilling.Hewascryingwithsheerrageandeagernessashe

circledbackandforthforachancetospringin.Buckwasnolesseager,andnolesscautious,ashelikewisecircledbackandforthfortheadvantage.Butitwasthenthat theunexpectedhappened, thethingwhichprojectedtheirstruggleforsupremacyfarintothefuture,pastmanyawearymileoftrailandtoil.Anoath fromPerrault, the resounding impactof a clubuponabony frame,

andashrillyelpofpain,heraldedthebreakingforthofpandemonium.Thecampwas suddenly discovered to be alive with skulking furry forms,—starvinghuskies,fourorfivescoreofthem,whohadscentedthecampfromsomeIndianvillage.TheyhadcreptinwhileBuckandSpitzwerefighting,andwhenthetwomen sprang among themwith stout clubs they showed their teeth and foughtback.Theywerecrazedbythesmellofthefood.Perraultfoundonewithheadburiedinthegrub-box.Hisclublandedheavilyonthegauntribs,andthegrub-boxwascapsizedon theground.Onthe instantascoreof thefamishedbruteswere scrambling for thebreadandbacon.Theclubs fellupon themunheeded.They yelped and howled under the rain of blows, but struggled none the lessmadlytillthelastcrumbhadbeendevoured.Inthemeantimetheastonishedteam-dogshadburstoutoftheirnestsonlyto

besetuponbythefierceinvaders.NeverhadBuckseensuchdogs.Itseemedasthoughtheirboneswouldburst throughtheirskins.Theyweremereskeletons,drapedlooselyindraggledhides,withblazingeyesandslaveredfangs.Butthehunger-madnessmadethemterrifying,irresistible.Therewasnoopposingthem.The team-dogswere swept back against the cliff at the first onset. Buckwasbeset by three huskies, and in a trice his head and shoulderswere ripped andslashed.The dinwas frightful.Billeewas crying as usual.Dave andSol-leks,drippingbloodfromascoreofwounds,werefightingbravelysidebyside.Joewassnappinglikeademon.Once,histeethclosedontheforelegofahusky,andhe crunched down through the bone. Pike, the malingerer, leaped upon thecrippledanimal,breaking itsneckwithaquick flashof teethanda jerk,Buckgot a frothing adversary by the throat, andwas sprayedwith bloodwhen histeethsankthroughthejugular.Thewarmtasteofitinhismouthgoadedhimtogreaterfierceness.Heflunghimselfuponanother,andatthesametimefeltteethsinkintohisownthroat.ItwasSpitz,treacherouslyattackingfromtheside.Perrault andFrançois, having cleaned out their part of the camp, hurried to

savetheirsled-dogs.Thewildwaveoffamishedbeastsrolledbackbeforethem,andBuckshookhimselffree.Butitwasonlyforamoment.Thetwomenwere

compelledtorunbacktosavethegrub,uponwhichthehuskiesreturnedtotheattackontheteam.Billee,terrifiedintobravery,sprangthroughthesavagecircleandfledawayovertheice.PikeandDubfollowedonhisheels,withtherestoftheteambehind.AsBuckdrewhimselftogethertospringafterthem,outofthetail of his eye he saw Spitz rush upon him with the evident intention ofoverthrowinghim.Onceoffhisfeetandunderthatmassofhuskies,therewasnohopeforhim.ButhebracedhimselftotheshockofSpitz’scharge,thenjoinedtheflightoutonthelake.Later, thenine team-dogsgathered together and sought shelter in the forest.

Thoughunpursued,theywereinasorryplight.Therewasnotonewhowasnotwoundedinfourorfiveplaces,whilesomewerewoundedgrievously.Dubwasbadlyinjuredinahindleg;Dolly,thelasthuskyaddedtotheteamatDyea,hadabadlytornthroat;Joehadlostaneye;whileBillee,thegood-natured,withanearchewedand rent to ribbons, criedandwhimpered throughout thenight.Atdaybreaktheylimpedwarilybacktocamp,tofindthemaraudersgoneandthetwomeninbadtempers.Fullyhalftheirgrubsupplywasgone.Thehuskieshadchewed through the sled lashings and canvas coverings. In fact, nothing, nomatter how remotely eatable, had escaped them. They had eaten a pair ofPerrault’smoose-hidemoccasins,chunksoutoftheleathertraces,andeventwofeet of lash from the end of François’s whip. He broke from a mournfulcontemplationofittolookoverhiswoundeddogs.“Ah, my frien’s,” he said softly, “mebbe it mek you mad dog, dose many

bites.Mebbeallmaddog,sacredam!Wotyout’ink,eh,Perrault?”The courier shookhis headdubiously.With four hundredmiles of trail still

betweenhimandDawson,hecouldillaffordtohavemadnessbreakoutamonghisdogs.Twohoursofcursingandexertiongottheharnessesintoshape,andthewound-stiffenedteamwasunderway,strugglingpainfullyoverthehardestpartof the trail they had yet encountered, and for thatmatter, the hardest betweenthemandDawson.TheThirtyMileRiverwaswideopen. Itswildwaterdefied thefrost,and it

wasintheeddiesonlyandinthequietplacesthattheiceheldatall.Sixdaysofexhausting toilwere required to cover those thirty terriblemiles.And terribletheywere,foreveryfootofthemwasaccomplishedattheriskoflifetodogandman. A dozen times, Perrault, nosing the way broke through the ice bridges,beingsavedbythelongpolehecarried,whichhesoheldthatitfelleachtimeacross the hole made by his body. But a cold snap was on, the thermometerregisteringfiftybelowzero,andeachtimehebrokethroughhewascompelledforverylifetobuildafireanddryhisgarments.

Nothingdauntedhim. Itwasbecausenothingdauntedhim thathehadbeenchosenforgovernmentcourier.Hetookallmannerofrisks,resolutelythrustinghislittleweazenedfaceintothefrostandstrugglingonfromdimdawntodark.Heskirtedthefrowningshoresonrimicethatbentandcrackledunderfootanduponwhich theydarednot halt.Once, the sled broke through,withDave andBuck, and they were half-frozen and all but drowned by the time they weredragged out. The usual fire was necessary to save them. They were coatedsolidlywithice,andthetwomenkeptthemontherunaroundthefire,sweatingandthawing,soclosethattheyweresingedbytheflames.AtanothertimeSpitzwentthrough,draggingthewholeteamafterhimupto

Buck,whostrainedbackwardwithallhisstrength,hisforepawsontheslipperyedgeandtheicequiveringandsnappingallaround.ButbehindhimwasDave,likewise strainingbackward, andbehind the sledwasFrançois, pulling till histendonscracked.Again, the rim ice broke away before and behind, and therewas no escape

exceptupthecliff.Perraultscaleditbyamiracle,whileFrançoisprayedforjustthatmiracle; andwithevery thongand sled lashingand the lastbitofharnessrove into a long rope, the dogs were hoisted, one by one, to the cliff crest.Françoiscameuplast,afterthesledandload.Thencamethesearchforaplacetodescend,whichdescentwasultimatelymadebytheaidoftherope,andnightfoundthembackontheriverwithaquarterofamiletotheday’scredit.By the time theymade theHootalinquaandgood ice,Buckwasplayedout.

Therestof thedogswere in likecondition;butPerrault, tomakeuplost time,pushed them late and early.The first day they covered thirty-fivemiles to theBig Salmon; the next day thirty-fivemore to the Little Salmon; the third dayfortymiles,whichbroughtthemwelluptowardtheFiveFingers.Buck’sfeetwerenotsocompactandhardasthefeetofthehuskies.Hishad

softenedduring themanygenerations since thedayhis lastwild ancestorwastamed by a cave-dweller or riverman.All day long he limped in agony, andcamponcemade, lay down like a deaddog.Hungry as hewas, hewouldnotmovetoreceivehisrationoffish,whichFrançoishadtobringtohim.Also,thedog-driver rubbed Buck’s feet for half an hour each night after supper, andsacrificedthetopsofhisownmoccasinstomakefourmoccasinsforBuck.Thiswasagreatrelief,andBuckcausedeventheweazenedfaceofPerraulttotwistitselfintoagrinonemorning,whenFrançoisforgotthemoccasinsandBucklayon his back, his four feetwaving appealingly in the air, and refused to budgewithout them.Laterhis feetgrewhard to the trail, and theworn-out foot-gearwasthrownaway.

AtthePellyonemorning,astheywereharnessingup,Dolly,whohadneverbeen conspicuous for anything, went suddenly mad. She announced herconditionbyalong,heartbreakingwolfhowlthatsenteverydogbristlingwithfear,thensprangstraightforBuck.Hehadneverseenadoggomad,nordidhehave any reason to fearmadness; yet he knew that herewas horror, and fledaway from it in a panic. Straight away he raced, with Dolly, panting andfrothing,oneleapbehind;norcouldshegainonhim,sogreatwashisterror,norcouldheleaveher,sogreatwashermadness.Heplungedthroughthewoodedbreastof the island, flewdownto the lowerend,crossedabackchannel filledwithroughicetoanotherisland,gainedathirdisland,curvedbacktothemainriver,andindesperationstartedtocrossit.Andallthetime,thoughhedidnotlook,hecouldhearhersnarling justone leapbehind.Françoiscalled tohimaquarter of a mile away and he doubled back, still one leap ahead, gaspingpainfully forairandputtingallhis faith in thatFrançoiswouldsavehim.Thedog-driverheld theaxepoised inhishand,andasBuckshotpasthim theaxecrasheddownuponmadDolly’shead.Buckstaggeredoveragainstthesled,exhausted,sobbingforbreath,helpless.

ThiswasSpitz’sopportunity.HespranguponBuck,andtwicehisteethsankintohisunresistingfoeandrippedandtorethefleshtothebone.ThenFrançois’slashdescended, andBuck had the satisfaction ofwatching Spitz receive theworstwhippingasyetadministeredtoanyoftheteams.“One devil, dat Spitz,” remarked Perrault. “Some dam day heem keel dat

Buck.”“Dat Buck two devils,” was François’s rejoinder. “All de tam I watch dat

BuckIknowforsure.Lissen:somedamfinedayheemgetmadlakhellan’denheemchewdatSpitzallupan’spitheemoutondesnow.Sure.Iknow.”Fromthenonitwaswarbetweenthem.Spitz,aslead-dogandacknowledged

masteroftheteam,felthissupremacythreatenedbythisstrangeSouthlanddog.AndstrangeBuckwas tohim, forof themanySouthlanddogshehadknown,not one had shown upworthily in camp and on trail. Theywere all too soft,dyingunderthetoil,thefrost,andstarvation.Buckwastheexception.Healoneenduredandprospered,matchingthehuskyinstrength,savagery,andcunning.Thenhewasamasterfuldog,andwhatmadehimdangerouswasthefactthattheclubofthemanintheredsweaterhadknockedallblindpluckandrashnessoutofhisdesireformastery.Hewaspreeminentlycunning,andcouldbidehistimewithapatiencethatwasnothinglessthanprimitive.Itwasinevitablethattheclashforleadershipshouldcome.Buckwantedit.He

wanted itbecause itwashisnature,becausehehadbeengripped tightby that

nameless,incomprehensibleprideofthetrailandtrace—thatpridewhichholdsdogsinthetoiltothelastgasp,whichluresthemtodiejoyfullyintheharness,andbreakstheirhearts if theyarecutoutoftheharness.ThiswastheprideofDaveaswheel-dog,ofSol-leksashepulledwithallhisstrength;thepridethatlaid hold of them at break of camp, transforming them from sour and sullenbrutes intostraining,eager,ambitiouscreatures; thepridethatspurredthemonalldayanddropped thematpitchofcampatnight, letting themfallback intogloomyunrest anduncontent.Thiswas thepride thatboreupSpitz andmadehimthrashthesled-dogswhoblunderedandshirkedinthetracesorhidawayatharness-up time in themorning.Likewise itwas thispride thatmadehim fearBuckasapossiblelead-dog.AndthiswasBuck’spride,too.He openly threatened the other’s leadership.He came between him and the

shirksheshouldhavepunished.Andhediditdeliberately.Onenighttherewasaheavysnowfall,andinthemorningPike,themalingerer,didnotappear.Hewassecurelyhiddeninhisnestunderafootofsnow.Françoiscalledhimandsoughthim in vain.Spitzwaswildwithwrath.He raged through the camp, smellingand digging in every likely place, snarling so frightfully that Pike heard andshiveredinhishiding-place.Butwhenhewasatlastunearthed,andSpitzflewathimtopunishhim,Buck

flew, with equal rage, in between. So unexpected was it, and so shrewdlymanaged, thatSpitzwashurledbackwardandoffhis feet.Pike,whohadbeentrembling abjectly, took heart at this open mutiny, and sprang upon hisoverthrown leader. Buck, to whom fair play was a forgotten code, likewisespranguponSpitz.ButFrançois,chucklingattheincidentwhileunswervinginthe administration of justice, brought his lash down upon Buck with all hismight.ThisfailedtodriveBuckfromhisprostraterival,andthebuttofthewhipwasbrought intoplay.Half-stunnedby theblow,Buckwasknockedbackwardand the lash laiduponhimagain and again,whileSpitz soundlypunished themanytimesoffendingPike.In the days that followed, as Dawson grew closer and closer, Buck still

continuedtointerferebetweenSpitzandtheculprits;buthediditcraftily,whenFrançois was not around, With the covert mutiny of Buck, a generalinsubordinationsprangupandincreased.DaveandSol-lekswereunaffected,buttherestoftheteamwentfrombadtoworse.Thingsnolongerwentright.Therewas continual bickering and jangling. Trouble was always afoot, and at thebottomofitwasBuck.HekeptFrançoisbusy,forthedog-driverwasinconstantapprehension of the life-and-death struggle between the two which he knewmust take place sooner or later; and on more than one night the sounds of

quarrellingandstrifeamongtheotherdogsturnedhimoutofhissleepingrobe,fearfulthatBuckandSpitzwereatit.But theopportunity didnot present itself, and theypulled intoDawsonone

dreary afternoonwith the great fight still to come.Hereweremanymen, andcountlessdogs,andBuckfoundthemallatwork.Itseemedtheordainedorderofthingsthatdogsshouldwork.Alldaytheyswungupanddownthemainstreetin long teams, and in the night their jingling bells still went by. They hauledcabinlogsandfirewood,freighteduptothemines,anddidallmannerofworkthat horses did in the SantaClaraValley.Here and thereBuckmet Southlanddogs, but in the main they were the wild wolf husky breed. Every night,regularly,atnine, at twelve,at three, they liftedanocturnal song,aweirdandeeriechant,inwhichitwasBuck’sdelighttojoin.With theauroraborealis flamingcoldlyoverhead,or thestars leaping in the

frostdance,andthelandnumbandfrozenunderitspallofsnow,thissongofthehuskiesmighthavebeenthedefianceof life,onlyitwaspitchedinminorkey,withlong-drawnwailingsandhalf-sobs,andwasmorethepleadingoflife,thearticulatetravailofexistence.Itwasanoldsong,oldasthebreeditself—oneofthe first songs of the younger world in a day when songs were sad. It wasinvestedwith thewoe of unnumbered generations, this plaint bywhich Buckwassostrangelystirred.Whenhemoanedandsobbed, itwaswith thepainoflivingthatwasofoldthepainofhiswildfathers,andthefearandmysteryofthecoldanddarkthatwastothemfearandmystery.Andthatheshouldbestirredbyitmarkedthecompletenesswithwhichheharkedbackthroughtheagesoffireandrooftotherawbeginningsoflifeinthehowlingages.Sevendays from the time theypulled intoDawson, theydroppeddown the

steep bank by the Barracks to theYukon Trail, and pulled for Dyea and SaltWater.Perraultwas carryingdespatches if anythingmoreurgent than thosehehadbroughtin;also,thetravelpridehadgrippedhim,andhepurposedtomakethe record tripof theyear.Several things favoredhim in this.Theweek’s resthad recuperated the dogs and put them in thorough trim. The trail they hadbroken into the countrywas packed hard by later journeyers.And further, thepolicehadarrangedintwoorthreeplacesdepositsofgrubfordogandman,andhewastravellinglight.Theymade SixtyMile, which is a fifty-mile run, on the first day; and the

seconddaysawthemboominguptheYukonwellontheirwaytoPelly.ButsuchsplendidrunningwasachievednotwithoutgreattroubleandvexationonthepartofFrançois.TheinsidiousrevoltledbyBuckhaddestroyedthesolidarityoftheteam.Itnolongerwasasonedogleapinginthetraces.TheencouragementBuck

gave the rebels led them into all kinds of pettymisdemeanors. Nomore wasSpitzaleadergreatlytobefeared.Theoldawedeparted,andtheygrewequaltochallenginghisauthority.Pikerobbedhimofhalfafishonenight,andgulpeditdownundertheprotectionofBuck.AnothernightDubandJoefoughtSpitzandmade him forego the punishment they deserved. And even Billee, the good-natured,waslessgood-natured,andwhinednothalfsoplacatinglyasinformerdays.BucknevercamenearSpitzwithoutsnarlingandbristlingmenacingly.Infact,hisconductapproachedthatofabully,andhewasgiventoswaggeringupanddownbeforeSpitz’sverynose.Thebreakingdownofdiscipline likewiseaffected thedogs in their relations

with one another. They quarrelled and bickered more than ever amongthemselves, till at times the camp was a howling bedlam. Dave and Sol-leksalone were unaltered, though they were made irritable by the unendingsquabbling. François swore strange barbarous oaths, and stamped the snow infutilerage,andtorehishair.Hislashwasalwayssingingamongthedogs,butitwasofsmallavail.Directlyhisbackwasturnedtheywereatitagain.Hebackedup Spitz with his whip, while Buck backed up the remainder of the team.Françoisknewhewasbehindallthetrouble,andBuckknewheknew;butBuckwastooclevereveragaintobecaughtred-handed.Heworkedfaithfullyintheharness, for the toil had become a delight to him; yet itwas a greater delightslylytoprecipitateafightamongsthismatesandtanglethetraces.At the mouth of the Tahkeena, one night after supper, Dub turned up a

snowshoe rabbit,blundered it, andmissed. Ina second thewhole teamwas infullcry.Ahundredyardsawaywasacampof theNorthwestPolice,withfiftydogs,huskiesall,whojoinedthechase.Therabbitspeddowntheriver, turnedoffintoasmallcreek,upthefrozenbedofwhichitheldsteadily.Itranlightlyonthesurfaceofthesnow,whilethedogsploughedthroughbymainstrength.Buckledthepack,sixtystrong,aroundbendafterbend,buthecouldnotgain.He lay down low to the race, whining eagerly, his splendid body flashingforward,leapbyleap,inthewanwhitemoonlight.Andleapbyleap,likesomepalefrostwraith,thesnowshoerabbitflashedonahead.All thatstirringofold instinctswhichatstatedperiodsdrivesmenout from

the sounding cities to forest and plain to kill things by chemically propelledleadenpellets, the blood lust, the joy to kill—all thiswasBuck’s, only itwasinfinitelymore intimate.Hewas ranging at the head of the pack, running thewildthingdown,thelivingmeat,tokillwithhisownteethandwashhismuzzletotheeyesinwarmblood.There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life

cannot rise.Andsuch is theparadoxof living, thisecstasycomeswhenone ismost alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive. Thisecstasy, this forgetfulness of living, comes to the artist, caught up and out ofhimselfinasheetofflame;itcomestothesoldier,war-madonastrickenfieldand refusing quarter; and it came toBuck, leading the pack, sounding the oldwolf-cry,strainingafterthefoodthatwasaliveandthatfledswiftlybeforehimthroughthemoonlight.Hewassoundingthedeepsofhisnature,andofthepartsofhisnature thatweredeeper thanhe,goingback into thewombofTime.Hewasmasteredbythesheersurgingoflife,thetidalwaveofbeing,theperfectjoyofeachseparatemuscle,joint,andsinewinthatitwaseverythingthatwasnotdeath, that it was aglow and rampant, expressing itself in movement, flyingexultantlyunderthestarsandoverthefaceofdeadmatterthatdidnotmove.ButSpitz,coldandcalculatingeveninhissuprememoods,leftthepackand

cutacrossanarrowneckoflandwherethecreekmadealongbendaround.Buckdidnotknowofthis,andasheroundedthebend,thefrostwraithofarabbitstillflitting before him, he saw another and larger frost wraith leap from theoverhangingbankintotheimmediatepathoftherabbit.ItwasSpitz.Therabbitcould not turn, and as thewhite teeth broke its back inmid air it shrieked asloudlyasastrickenmanmayshriek.Atsoundofthis,thecryofLifeplungingdownfromLife’sapexinthegripofDeath,thefallpackatBuck’sheelsraisedahell’schorusofdelight.Buck did not cry out. He did not check himself, but drove in upon Spitz,

shouldertoshoulder,sohardthathemissedthethroat.Theyrolledoverandoverin the powdery snow. Spitz gained his feet almost as though he had not beenoverthrown,slashingBuckdowntheshoulderandleapingclear.Twicehisteethclipped together, like the steel jaws of a trap, as he backed away for betterfooting,withleanandliftinglipsthatwrithedandsnarled.In a flash Buck knew it. The time had come. It was to the death. As they

circled about, snarling, ears laid back, keenlywatchful for the advantage, thescenecametoBuckwithasenseoffamiliarity.Heseemedtorememberitall,—the white woods, and earth, and moonlight, and the thrill of battle. Over thewhiteness and silence brooded a ghostly calm. There was not the faintestwhisper of air—nothingmoved, not a leaf quivered, the visible breaths of thedogsrisingslowlyandlingeringinthefrostyair.Theyhadmadeshortworkofthesnowshoerabbit,thesedogsthatwereill-tamedwolves;andtheywerenowdrawnupinanexpectantcircle.They,too,weresilent,theireyesonlygleamingandtheirbreathsdriftingslowlyupward.ToBuckitwasnothingneworstrange,thissceneofoldtime.Itwasasthoughithadalwaysbeen,thewontedwayof

things.Spitzwasapractisedfighter.FromSpitzbergenthroughtheArctic,andacross

Canada and the Barrens, he had held his own with all manner of dogs andachieved to mastery over them. Bitter rage was his, but never blind rage. Inpassiontorendanddestroy,heneverforgotthathisenemywasinlikepassiontorendanddestroy.Heneverrushedtillhewaspreparedtoreceivearush;neverattackedtillhehadfirstdefendedthatattack.In vain Buck strove to sink his teeth in the neck of the big white dog.

Whereverhisfangsstruckforthesofterflesh,theywerecounteredbythefangsofSpitz.Fangclashedfang,andlipswerecutandbleeding,butBuckcouldnotpenetrate his enemy’s guard. Then he warmed up and enveloped Spitz in awhirlwind of rushes. Time and time again he tried for the snow-white throat,where life bubbled near to the surface, and each time and every time Spitzslashedhimandgotaway.ThenBucktooktorushing,asthoughforthethroat,when,suddenlydrawingbackhisheadandcurving infromtheside,hewoulddrivehisshoulderattheshoulderofSpitz,asarambywhichtooverthrowhim.Butinstead,Buck’sshoulderwasslasheddowneachtimeasSpitzleapedlightlyaway.Spitzwasuntouched,whileBuckwasstreamingwithbloodandpantinghard.

Thefightwasgrowingdesperate.Andallthewhilethesilentandwolfishcirclewaitedtofinishoffwhicheverdogwentdown.AsBuckgrewwinded,Spitztooktorushing,andhekepthimstaggeringforfooting.OnceBuckwentover,andthewholecircleofsixtydogsstartedup;butherecoveredhimself,almostinmidair,andthecirclesankdownagainandwaited.But Buck possessed a quality that made for greatness—imagination. He

fought by instinct, but he could fight by head as well. He rushed, as thoughattempting theoldshoulder trick,butat the last instantswept low to thesnowandin.HisteethclosedonSpitz’sleftforeleg.Therewasacrunchofbreakingbone,andthewhitedogfacedhimonthree legs.Thricehe tried toknockhimover, then repeated the trickandbroke the right fore leg.Despite thepainandhelplessness, Spitz struggledmadly to keep up.He saw the silent circle,withgleaming eyes, lolling tongues, and silvery breaths drifting upward, closing inuponhimashehadseensimilarcirclescloseinuponbeatenantagonistsinthepast.Onlythistimehewastheonewhowasbeaten.Therewasnohopeforhim.Buckwasinexorable.Mercywasathingreserved

forgentlerclimes.Hemanœuvredforthefinalrush.Thecirclehadtightenedtillhecouldfeelthebreathsofthehuskiesonhisflanks.Hecouldseethem,beyondSpitzandtoeitherside,halfcrouchingforthespring,theireyesfixeduponhim.

Apauseseemedtofall.Everyanimalwasmotionlessasthoughturnedtostone.OnlySpitzquiveredandbristledashe staggeredbackand forth, snarlingwithhorriblemenace,asthoughtofrightenoffimpendingdeath.ThenBuckspranginand out; butwhile hewas in, shoulder had at last squarelymet shoulder. Thedarkcirclebecameadotonthemoon-floodedsnowasSpitzdisappearedfromview. Buck stood and looked on, the successful champion, the dominantprimordialbeastwhohadmadehiskillandfounditgood.

ChapterIV.WhoHasWontoMastership

“Eh? Wot I say? I spik true w’en I say dat Buck two devils.” This wasFrançois’s speech next morning when he discovered Spitz missing and Buckcoveredwithwounds.Hedrewhimtothefireandbyitslightpointedthemout.“DatSpitz fight lak hell,” saidPerrault, as he surveyed the gaping rips and

cuts.“An’datBuckfightlaktwohells,”wasFrançois’sanswer.“An’nowwemake

goodtime.NomoreSpitz,nomoretrouble,sure.”While Perrault packed the camp outfit and loaded the sled, the dog-driver

proceeded to harness the dogs.Buck trotted up to the placeSpitzwould haveoccupied as leader; but François, not noticing him, brought Sol-leks to thecoveted position. In his judgment, Sol-leks was the best lead-dog left. BuckspranguponSol-leksinafury,drivinghimbackandstandinginhisplace.“Eh? eh?” François cried, slapping his thighs gleefully. “Look at dat Buck.

HeemkeeldatSpitz,heemt’inktotakedejob.”“Go’way,Chook!”hecried,butBuckrefusedtobudge.He took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled

threateningly, draggedhim toone side and replacedSol-leks.Theolddogdidnot like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck. François wasobdurate,butwhenheturnedhisbackBuckagaindisplacedSol-leks,whowasnotatallunwillingtogo.Françoiswasangry.“Now,byGar,Ifeexyou!”hecried,comingbackwitha

heavyclubinhishand.Buckrememberedthemanintheredsweater,andretreatedslowly;nordidhe

attempt to charge in when Sol-leks was once more brought forward. But hecircledjustbeyondtherangeoftheclub,snarlingwithbitternessandrage;andwhilehecircledhewatchedtheclubsoastododgeitifthrownbyFrançois,forhewasbecomewiseinthewayofclubs.Thedriverwentabouthiswork,andhecalledtoBuckwhenhewasreadytoputhiminhisoldplaceinfrontofDave.Buck retreated two or three steps. François followed him up, whereupon he

againretreated.Aftersometimeofthis,Françoisthrewdowntheclub,thinkingthatBuck feared a thrashing.ButBuckwas inopen revolt.Hewanted, not toescapeaclubbing,buttohavetheleadership.Itwashisbyright.Hehadearnedit,andhewouldnotbecontentwithless.Perraulttookahand.Betweenthemtheyranhimaboutforthebetterpartof

anhour.Theythrewclubsathim.Hedodged.Theycursedhim,andhisfathersandmothersbeforehim,andallhisseedtocomeafterhimdowntotheremotestgeneration, andeveryhaironhisbodyanddropofblood inhisveins; andheansweredcursewithsnarlandkeptoutoftheirreach.Hedidnottrytorunaway,but retreated around and around the camp, advertising plainly that when hisdesirewasmet,hewouldcomeinandbegood.François sat down and scratched his head. Perrault looked at hiswatch and

swore.Timewas flying, and they shouldhavebeenon the trail anhourgone.François scratched his head again. He shook it and grinned sheepishly at thecourier,whoshruggedhisshouldersinsignthattheywerebeaten.ThenFrançoiswent up to where Sol-leks stood and called to Buck. Buck laughed, as dogslaugh,yetkepthisdistance.FrançoisunfastenedSol-leks’s traces andputhimbackinhisoldplace.Theteamstoodharnessedtothesledinanunbrokenline,ready for the trail.Therewasnoplace forBuck save at the front.OncemoreFrançoiscalled,andoncemoreBucklaughedandkeptaway.“T’rowdowndeclub,”Perraultcommanded.François complied, whereupon Buck trotted in, laughing triumphantly, and

swungaroundintopositionattheheadoftheteam.Histraceswerefastened,thesledbrokenout,andwithbothmenrunningtheydashedoutontotherivertrail.Highlyasthedog-driverhadforevaluedBuck,withhistwodevils,hefound,

whilethedaywasyetyoung,thathehadundervalued.AtaboundBucktookupthedutiesof leadership;andwhere judgmentwasrequired,andquick thinkingand quick acting, he showed himself the superior even of Spitz, of whomFrançoishadneverseenanequal.But itwas in giving the law andmaking hismates live up to it, thatBuck

excelled.DaveandSol-leksdidnotmindthechangeinleadership.Itwasnoneoftheirbusiness.Theirbusinesswastotoil,andtoilmightily, inthetraces.Solongas thatwerenot interferedwith, theydidnotcarewhathappened.Billee,thegood-natured,couldleadforalltheycared,solongashekeptorder.Therestoftheteam,however,hadgrownunrulyduringthelastdaysofSpitz,andtheirsurprisewasgreatnowthatBuckproceededtolickthemintoshape.Pike,who pulled atBuck’s heels, andwho never put an ouncemore of his

weight against the breast-band than hewas compelled to do, was swiftly andrepeatedly shaken for loafing; and ere the first day was done he was pullingmorethaneverbeforeinhislife.Thefirstnightincamp,Joe,thesourone,waspunishedroundly—athingthatSpitzhadneversucceededindoing.Bucksimplysmothered him by virtue of superior weight, and cut him up till he ceasedsnappingandbegantowhineformercy.Thegeneraltoneoftheteampickedupimmediately.Itrecovereditsold-time

solidarity,andoncemorethedogsleapedasonedoginthetraces.AttheRinkRapids twonativehuskies,TeekandKoona,wereadded;and theceleritywithwhichBuckbrokethemintookawayFrançois’sbreath.“NevairesuchadogasdatBuck!”hecried.“No,nevaire!Heemworthone

t’ousan’dollair,byGar!Eh?Wotyousay,Perrault?”AndPerrault nodded.Hewas aheadof the record then, andgainingdayby

day.Thetrailwasinexcellentcondition,wellpackedandhard,andtherewasnonew-fallen snowwithwhich to contend. Itwas not too cold. The temperaturedroppedtofiftybelowzeroandremainedtherethewholetrip.Themenrodeandranbyturn,andthedogswerekeptonthejump,withbutinfrequentstoppages.TheThirtyMileRiverwascomparativelycoatedwithice,andtheycoveredin

one day going outwhat had taken them ten days coming in. In one run theymade a sixty-mile dash from the foot of Lake Le Barge to theWhite HorseRapids.AcrossMarsh,Tagish,andBennett(seventymilesoflakes),theyflewsofastthatthemanwhoseturnitwastoruntowedbehindthesledattheendofarope. And on the last night of the second week they toppedWhite Pass anddroppeddown the sea slopewith the lightsofSkaguay andof the shipping attheirfeet.Itwasarecordrun.Eachdayforfourteendaystheyhadaveragedfortymiles.

ForthreedaysPerraultandFrançoisthrewchestsupanddownthemainstreetofSkaguay and were deluged with invitations to drink, while the team was theconstantcentreofaworshipfulcrowdofdog-bustersandmushers.Thenthreeorfourwesternbadmenaspired tocleanout the town,were riddled likepepper-boxesfortheirpains,andpublicinterestturnedtootheridols.Nextcameofficialorders.FrançoiscalledBucktohim,threwhisarmsaroundhim,weptoverhim.AndthatwasthelastofFrançoisandPerrault.Likeothermen,theypassedoutofBuck’slifeforgood.AScotchhalf-breedtookchargeofhimandhismates,andincompanywitha

dozenotherdog-teamshestartedbackoverthewearytrailtoDawson.Itwasnolight runningnow,nor record time,butheavy toileachday,withaheavy load

behind;forthiswasthemailtrain,carryingwordfromtheworldtothemenwhosoughtgoldundertheshadowofthePole.Buckdidnotlikeit,butheboreupwelltothework,takingprideinitafterthe

mannerofDaveandSol-leks,andseeingthathismates,whethertheypridedinitornot,didtheirfairshare.Itwasamonotonouslife,operatingwithmachine-likeregularity.Onedaywasvery like another.At a certain time eachmorning thecooks turned out, fireswere built, and breakfastwas eaten.Then,while somebrokecamp,othersharnessedthedogs,andtheywereunderwayanhourorsobeforethedarknessfellwhichgavewarningofdawn.Atnight,campwasmade.Somepitched the flies, others cut firewoodandpineboughs for thebeds, andstillotherscarriedwateroriceforthecooks.Also,thedogswerefed.Tothem,thiswastheonefeatureoftheday,thoughitwasgoodtoloafaround,afterthefish was eaten, for an hour or so with the other dogs, of which there werefivescoreandodd.Therewerefiercefightersamongthem,butthreebattleswiththe fiercest broughtBuck tomastery, so thatwhenhebristled and showedhisteeththeygotoutofhisway.Best of all, perhaps, he loved to lie near the fire, hind legs crouched under

him,forelegsstretchedoutinfront,headraised,andeyesblinkingdreamilyattheflames.SometimeshethoughtofJudgeMiller’sbighouseinthesun-kissedSantaClaraValley,andofthecementswimming-tank,andYsabel,theMexicanhairless,andToots,theJapanesepug;butoftenerherememberedthemanintheredsweater,thedeathofCurly,thegreatfightwithSpitz,andthegoodthingshehadeatenorwouldliketoeat.Hewasnothomesick.TheSunlandwasverydimanddistant,andsuchmemorieshadnopoweroverhim.Farmorepotentwerethememoriesofhishereditythatgavethingshehadneverseenbeforeaseemingfamiliarity;theinstincts(whichwerebutthememoriesofhisancestorsbecomehabits) which had lapsed in later days, and still later, in him, quickened andbecomealiveagain.Sometimesashe crouched there,blinkingdreamily at the flames, it seemed

thattheflameswereofanotherfire,andthatashecrouchedbythisotherfirehesawanotheranddifferentmanfromthehalf-breedcookbeforehim.Thisothermanwas shorterof legand longerof arm,withmuscles thatwere stringyandknotty rather than rounded and swelling. The hair of this man was long andmatted, and his head slanted back under it from the eyes. He uttered strangesounds, and seemed very much afraid of the darkness, into which he peeredcontinually,clutchinginhishand,whichhungmidwaybetweenkneeandfoot,astickwithaheavystonemadefasttotheend.Hewasallbutnaked,araggedandfire-scorchedskinhangingpartwaydownhisback,butonhisbody therewas

muchhair.Insomeplaces,acrossthechestandshouldersanddowntheoutsideof thearmsand thighs, itwasmatted intoalmosta thick fur.Hedidnotstanderect, but with trunk inclined forward from the hips, on legs that bent at theknees. About his body there was a peculiar springiness, or resiliency, almostcatlike,andaquickalertnessasofonewholivedinperpetualfearofthingsseenandunseen.Atothertimesthishairymansquattedbythefirewithheadbetweenhislegs

and slept.On suchoccasionshis elbowswereonhisknees,hishands claspedabovehisheadasthoughtoshedrainbythehairyarms.Andbeyondthatfire,inthecirclingdarkness,Buckcouldseemanygleamingcoals,twobytwo,alwaystwobytwo,whichheknewtobetheeyesofgreatbeastsofprey.Andhecouldhear thecrashingof theirbodies through theundergrowth,and thenoises theymade in the night. And dreaming there by the Yukon bank, with lazy eyesblinking at the fire, these sounds and sights of anotherworldwouldmake thehairtorisealonghisbackandstandonendacrosshisshouldersanduphisneck,till hewhimpered low and suppressedly, or growled softly, and the half-breedcook shouted at him, “Hey, youBuck,wake up!”Whereupon the otherworldwouldvanishand the realworldcome intohiseyes,andhewouldgetupandyawnandstretchasthoughhehadbeenasleep.Itwasahardtrip,withthemailbehindthem,andtheheavyworkworethem

down. They were short of weight and in poor condition when they madeDawson,andshouldhavehada tendays’oraweek’s restat least.But in twodays’ time theydroppeddowntheYukonbankfromtheBarracks, loadedwithlettersfortheoutside.Thedogsweretired,thedriversgrumbling,andtomakemattersworse,itsnowedeveryday.Thismeantasofttrail,greaterfrictionontherunners,andheavierpullingforthedogs;yetthedriverswerefairthroughitall,anddidtheirbestfortheanimals.Eachnightthedogswereattendedtofirst.Theyatebeforethedriversate,and

nomansoughthissleeping-robetillhehadseentothefeetofthedogshedrove.Still, their strength went down. Since the beginning of the winter they hadtravelledeighteenhundredmiles,draggingsledsthewholewearydistance;andeighteenhundredmileswilltelluponlifeofthetoughest.Buckstoodit,keepinghismatesuptotheirworkandmaintainingdiscipline,thoughhe,too,wasverytired. Billee cried and whimpered regularly in his sleep each night. Joe wassourerthanever,andSol-lekswasunapproachable,blindsideorotherside.But itwasDavewho sufferedmostof all.Somethinghadgonewrongwith

him.Hebecamemoremoroseandirritable,andwhencampwaspitchedatoncemadehisnest,wherehisdriverfedhim.Onceoutoftheharnessanddown,he

didnotgetonhisfeetagaintillharness-uptimeinthemorning.Sometimes,inthetraces,whenjerkedbyasuddenstoppageofthesled,orbystrainingtostartit,hewouldcryoutwithpain.Thedriverexaminedhim,butcouldfindnothing.All thedriversbecameinterested inhiscase.Theytalked itoveratmeal-time,and over their last pipes before going to bed, and one night they held aconsultation. He was brought from his nest to the fire and was pressed andprodded till he cried out many times. Something was wrong inside, but theycouldlocatenobrokenbones,couldnotmakeitout.By the time Cassiar Bar was reached, he was so weak that he was falling

repeatedlyinthetraces.TheScotchhalf-breedcalledahaltandtookhimoutoftheteam,makingthenextdog,Sol-leks,fasttothesled.HisintentionwastorestDave,lettinghimrunfreebehindthesled.Sickashewas,Daveresentedbeingtaken out, grunting and growling while the traces were unfastened, andwhimperingbroken-heartedlywhenhesawSol-leksinthepositionhehadheldandservedsolong.Fortheprideoftraceandtrailwashis,and,sickuntodeath,hecouldnotbearthatanotherdogshoulddohiswork.When the sled started, he floundered in the soft snow alongside the beaten

trail,attackingSol-lekswithhis teeth, rushingagainsthimand trying to thrusthimoffintothesoftsnowontheotherside,strivingtoleapinsidehistracesandgetbetweenhimandthesled,andallthewhilewhiningandyelpingandcryingwithgriefandpain.Thehalf-breedtriedtodrivehimawaywiththewhip;buthepaidnoheedtothestinginglash,andthemanhadnotthehearttostrikeharder.Dave refused to run quietly on the trail behind the sled,where the goingwaseasy,butcontinuedtoflounderalongsideinthesoftsnow,wherethegoingwasmost difficult, till exhausted. Then he fell, and lay where he fell, howlinglugubriouslyasthelongtrainofsledschurnedby.Withthelastremnantofhisstrengthhemanagedtostaggeralongbehindtill

thetrainmadeanotherstop,whenheflounderedpastthesledstohisown,wherehestoodalongsideSol-leks.Hisdriverlingeredamomenttogetalightforhispipefromthemanbehind.Thenhereturnedandstartedhisdogs.Theyswungoutonthetrailwithremarkablelackofexertion,turnedtheirheadsuneasily,andstoppedinsurprise.Thedriverwassurprised, too; thesledhadnotmoved.Hecalledhiscomrades towitness the sight.Davehadbitten throughbothofSol-leks’straces,andwasstandingdirectlyinfrontofthesledinhisproperplace.He pleaded with his eyes to remain there. The driver was perplexed. His

comrades talked of how a dog could break its heart through being denied theworkthatkilledit,andrecalledinstancestheyhadknown,wheredogs,toooldfor the toil,or injured,haddiedbecause theywerecutoutof the traces.Also,

theyheld it amercy, sinceDavewas to die anyway, that he shoulddie in thetraces, heart-easy and content. So he was harnessed in again, and proudly hepulledasofold,thoughmorethanoncehecriedoutinvoluntarilyfromthebiteofhisinwardhurt.Severaltimeshefelldownandwasdraggedinthetraces,andoncethesledranuponhimsothathelimpedthereafterinoneofhishindlegs.Butheheldouttillcampwasreached,whenhisdrivermadeaplaceforhim

bythefire.Morningfoundhimtooweaktotravel.Atharness-uptimehetriedtocrawltohisdriver.Byconvulsiveeffortshegotonhisfeet,staggered,andfell.Thenhewormedhiswayforwardslowlytowardwheretheharnesseswerebeingputonhismates.Hewouldadvancehisfore legsanddraguphisbodywithasortofhitchingmovement,whenhewouldadvancehisforelegsandhitchaheadagainforafewmoreinches.Hisstrengthlefthim,andthelasthismatessawofhimhelaygaspinginthesnowandyearningtowardthem.Buttheycouldhearhim mournfully howling till they passed out of sight behind a belt of rivertimber.Herethetrainwashalted.TheScotchhalf-breedslowlyretracedhisstepsto

thecamptheyhad left.Themenceased talking.Arevolver-shot rangout.Themancamebackhurriedly.Thewhipssnapped,thebellstinkledmerrily,thesledschurned along the trail; butBuck knew, and every dog knew,what had takenplacebehindthebeltofrivertrees.

ChapterV.TheToilofTraceandTrail

ThirtydaysfromthetimeitleftDawson,theSaltWaterMail,withBuckandhismatesat the fore,arrivedatSkaguay.Theywere inawretchedstate,wornoutandworndown.Buck’sonehundredandfortypoundshaddwindledtoonehundred and fifteen.The rest of hismates, though lighter dogs, had relativelylostmoreweightthanhe.Pike,themalingerer,who,inhislifetimeofdeceit,hadoftensuccessfullyfeignedahurtleg,wasnowlimpinginearnest.Sol-lekswaslimping,andDubwassufferingfromawrenchedshoulder-blade.Theywereallterriblyfootsore.Nospringorreboundwasleftinthem.Their

feet fell heavily on the trail, jarring their bodies anddoubling the fatigueof aday’stravel.Therewasnothingthematterwiththemexceptthattheyweredeadtired.Itwasnotthedead-tirednessthatcomesthroughbriefandexcessiveeffort,from which recovery is a matter of hours; but it was the dead-tiredness thatcomesthroughtheslowandprolongedstrengthdrainageofmonthsoftoil.Therewasnopowerofrecuperationleft,noreservestrengthtocallupon.Ithadbeenallused,thelastleastbitofit.Everymuscle,everyfibre,everycell,wastired,dead tired. And there was reason for it. In less than five months they hadtravelled twenty-fivehundredmiles,during the lasteighteenhundredofwhichthey had had but five days’ rest. When they arrived at Skaguay they wereapparentlyontheirlastlegs.Theycouldbarelykeepthetracestaut,andonthedowngradesjustmanagedtokeepoutofthewayofthesled.“Mushon,poorsorefeets,”thedriverencouragedthemastheytottereddown

themainstreetofSkaguay.“Dis isde las’.Denwegetone longres’.Eh?Forsure.Onebullylongres’.”The drivers confidently expected a long stopover. Themselves, they had

covered twelvehundredmileswith twodays’ rest, and in thenatureof reasonandcommonjusticetheydeservedanintervalofloafing.Butsomanywerethemen who had rushed into the Klondike, and so many were the sweethearts,wives, and kin that had not rushed in, that the congestedmail was taking onAlpine proportions; also, there were official orders. Fresh batches of HudsonBaydogsweretotaketheplacesofthoseworthlessforthetrail.Theworthless

oneswere tobegotridof,and,sincedogscountfor littleagainstdollars, theyweretobesold.Threedayspassed,bywhichtimeBuckandhismatesfoundhowreallytired

andweaktheywere.Then,onthemorningofthefourthday,twomenfromtheStates came along and bought them, harness and all, for a song. The menaddressed each other as “Hal” and “Charles.” Charles was a middle-aged,lightish-coloredman,withweak andwatery eyes and amustache that twistedfiercelyandvigorouslyup,givingthelietothelimplydroopinglipitconcealed.Hal was a youngster of nineteen or twenty, with a big Colt’s revolver and ahunting-knife strapped about him on a belt that fairly bristledwith cartridges.Thisbeltwasthemostsalient thingabouthim.Itadvertisedhiscallowness—acallowness sheer andunutterable.Bothmenweremanifestlyoutofplace, andwhysuchastheyshouldadventuretheNorthispartofthemysteryofthingsthatpassesunderstanding.Buck heard the chaffering, saw the money pass between the man and the

Government agent, and knew that the Scotch half-breed and the mail-traindriverswerepassingoutofhislifeontheheelsofPerraultandFrançoisandtheotherswho had gone before.When drivenwith hismates to the newowners’camp, Buck saw a slipshod and slovenly affair, tent half stretched, dishesunwashed,everything indisorder;also,hesawawoman.“Mercedes” themencalledher.ShewasCharles’swifeandHal’ssister—anicefamilyparty.Buckwatched themapprehensivelyas theyproceeded to takedown the tent

and load the sled.Therewas a great deal of effort about theirmanner, but nobusinesslikemethod.Thetentwasrolledintoanawkwardbundlethreetimesaslarge as it should have been. The tin dishes were packed away unwashed.Mercedescontinuallyflutteredinthewayofhermenandkeptupanunbrokenchatteringofremonstranceandadvice.Whentheyputaclothes-sackonthefrontofthesled,shesuggesteditshouldgoontheback;andwhentheyhadputitonthe back, and covered it over with a couple of other bundles, she discoveredoverlookedarticleswhich could abidenowhere elsebut in that very sack, andtheyunloadedagain.Three men from a neighboring tent came out and looked on, grinning and

winkingatoneanother.“You’ve got a right smart load as it is,” said one of them; “and it’s notme

shouldtellyouyourbusiness,butIwouldn’ttotethattentalongifIwasyou.”“Undreamed of!” criedMercedes, throwing up her hands in dainty dismay.

“HoweverintheworldcouldImanagewithoutatent?”

“It’sspringtime,andyouwon’tgetanymorecoldweather,”themanreplied.Sheshookherheaddecidedly,andCharlesandHalputthelastoddsandends

ontopthemountainousload.“Thinkit’llride?”oneofthemenasked.“Whyshouldn’tit?”Charlesdemandedrathershortly.“Oh,that’sallright,that’sallright,”themanhastenedmeeklytosay.“Iwas

justa-wonderin’,thatisall.Itseemedamitetop-heavy.”Charles turned his back and drew the lashings down as well as he could,

whichwasnotintheleastwell.“An’ofcourse thedogscanhikealongalldaywith that contraptionbehind

them,”affirmedasecondofthemen.“Certainly,” said Hal, with freezing politeness, taking hold of the gee-pole

with one hand and swinging his whip from the other. “Mush!” he shouted.“Mushonthere!”Thedogs sprangagainst thebreast-bands, strainedhard for a fewmoments,

thenrelaxed.Theywereunabletomovethesled.“Thelazybrutes,I’llshowthem,”hecried,preparingtolashoutatthemwith

thewhip.ButMercedesinterfered,crying,“Oh,Hal,youmustn’t,”asshecaughthold

ofthewhipandwrencheditfromhim.“Thepoordears!Nowyoumustpromiseyouwon’tbeharshwiththemfortherestofthetrip,orIwon’tgoastep.”“Preciouslotyouknowaboutdogs,”herbrothersneered;“andIwishyou’d

leaveme alone. They’re lazy, I tell you, and you’ve got to whip them to getanythingoutofthem.That’stheirway.Youaskanyone.Askoneofthosemen.”Mercedes looked at them imploringly, untold repugnance at sight of pain

writteninherprettyface.“They’reweakaswater,ifyouwanttoknow,”camethereplyfromoneofthe

men.“Plumtuckeredout,that’swhat’sthematter.Theyneedarest.”“Restbeblanked,”saidHal,withhisbeardlesslips;andMercedessaid,“Oh!”

inpainandsorrowattheoath.But she was a clannish creature, and rushed at once to the defence of her

brother. “Nevermind thatman,” she saidpointedly. “You’redrivingourdogs,andyoudowhatyouthinkbestwiththem.”Again Hal’s whip fell upon the dogs. They threw themselves against the

breast-bands,dug their feet into thepacked snow,gotdown low to it, andput

forth all their strength. The sled held as though it were an anchor. After twoefforts, they stood still, panting.Thewhipwaswhistling savagely,when oncemoreMercedesinterfered.ShedroppedonherkneesbeforeBuck,withtearsinhereyes,andputherarmsaroundhisneck.“Youpoor,poordears,”shecriedsympathetically,“whydon’tyoupullhard?

—thenyouwouldn’tbewhipped.”Buckdidnotlikeher,buthewasfeelingtoomiserabletoresisther,takingitaspartoftheday’smiserablework.One of the onlookers, who had been clenching his teeth to suppress hot

speech,nowspokeup:—“It’snot thatIcareawhoopwhatbecomesofyou,butfor thedogs’sakesI

justwanttotellyou,youcanhelpthemamightylotbybreakingoutthatsled.The runners are froze fast. Throwyourweight against the gee-pole, right andleft,andbreakitout.”A third time the attemptwasmade,but this time, following the advice,Hal

brokeout the runnerswhichhadbeen frozen to thesnow.Theoverloadedandunwieldysledforgedahead,Buckandhismatesstrugglingfranticallyundertherainofblows.Ahundredyardsaheadthepathturnedandslopedsteeplyintothemain street. Itwouldhave requiredanexperiencedman tokeep the top-heavysledupright,andHalwasnotsuchaman.As theyswungon the turn thesledwent over, spilling half its load through the loose lashings. The dogs neverstopped.Thelightenedsledboundedonitssidebehindthem.Theywereangrybecause of the ill treatment they had received and the unjust load. Buckwasraging. He broke into a run, the team following his lead. Hal cried “Whoa!whoa!” but they gave no heed. He tripped and was pulled off his feet. Thecapsizedsledgroundoverhim,andthedogsdashedonupthestreet,addingtothegayetyofSkaguayastheyscatteredtheremainderoftheoutfitalongitschiefthoroughfare.Kind-hearted citizens caught the dogs and gathered up the scattered

belongings.Also,theygaveadvice.Halftheloadandtwicethedogs,iftheyeverexpectedtoreachDawson,waswhatwassaid.Halandhissisterandbrother-in-lawlistenedunwillingly,pitched tent,andoverhauled theoutfit.Cannedgoodswereturnedout thatmademenlaugh,forcannedgoodsontheLongTrail isathingtodreamabout.“Blanketsforahotel”quothoneofthemenwholaughedandhelped.“Halfasmanyistoomuch;getridofthem.Throwawaythattent,andallthosedishes,—who’sgoingtowashthem,anyway?GoodLord,doyouthinkyou’retravellingonaPullman?”Andsoitwent,theinexorableeliminationofthesuperfluous.Mercedescried

whenherclothes-bagsweredumpedonthegroundandarticleafterarticlewasthrownout.Shecriedingeneral,andshecriedinparticularovereachdiscardedthing.Sheclaspedhandsaboutknees,rockingbackandforthbroken-heartedly.Sheaverredshewouldnotgoaninch,notforadozenCharleses.Sheappealedtoeverybodyandtoeverything,finallywipinghereyesandproceedingtocastout even articles of apparel thatwere imperative necessaries.And in her zeal,whenshehadfinishedwithherown,sheattackedthebelongingsofhermenandwentthroughthemlikeatornado.Thisaccomplished,theoutfit,thoughcutinhalf,wasstillaformidablebulk.

Charles andHalwent out in the evening andbought sixOutside dogs.These,addedtothesixoftheoriginalteam,andTeekandKoona,thehuskiesobtainedat theRinkRapidsontherecordtrip,brought theteamuptofourteen.But theOutsidedogs,thoughpracticallybrokeninsincetheirlanding,didnotamounttomuch.Threewereshort-hairedpointers,onewasaNewfoundland,andtheothertwoweremongrelsofindeterminatebreed.Theydidnotseemtoknowanything,thesenewcomers.Buckandhis comrades lookedupon themwithdisgust, andthough he speedily taught them their places andwhat not to do, he could notteach them what to do. They did not take kindly to trace and trail.With theexceptionof the twomongrels, theywere bewildered and spirit-brokenby thestrange savage environment in which they found themselves and by the illtreatmenttheyhadreceived.Thetwomongrelswerewithoutspiritatall;bonesweretheonlythingsbreakableaboutthem.With the newcomers hopeless and forlorn, and the old team worn out by

twenty-five hundred miles of continuous trail, the outlook was anything butbright.The twomen,however,werequitecheerful.And theywereproud, too.They were doing the thing in style, with fourteen dogs. They had seen othersledsdepartoverthePassforDawson,orcomeinfromDawson,butneverhadthey seen a sledwith somany as fourteendogs. In thenatureofArctic traveltherewasareasonwhyfourteendogsshouldnotdragonesled,andthatwasthatonesledcouldnotcarrythefoodforfourteendogs.ButCharlesandHaldidnotknow this. They hadworked the trip outwith a pencil, somuch to a dog, somany dogs, so many days, Q.E.D.Mercedes looked over their shoulders andnoddedcomprehensively,itwasallsoverysimple.LatenextmorningBuck led the long teamup the street.Therewasnothing

livelyabout it, no snaporgo inhimandhis fellows.Theywere startingdeadweary.FourtimeshehadcoveredthedistancebetweenSaltWaterandDawson,andtheknowledgethat,jadedandtired,hewasfacingthesametrailoncemore,madehimbitter.Hisheartwasnotinthework,norwastheheartofanydog.The

Outsides were timid and frightened, the Insides without confidence in theirmasters.Buck feltvaguely that therewasnodependingupon these twomenand the

woman. They did not know how to do anything, and as the days went by itbecameapparentthattheycouldnotlearn.Theywereslackinallthings,withoutorderordiscipline.Ittookthemhalfthenighttopitchaslovenlycamp,andhalfthemorning tobreak thatcampandget the sled loaded in fashionso slovenlythat for therestof theday theywereoccupied instoppingandrearranging theload.Somedaystheydidnotmaketenmiles.Onotherdaystheywereunabletogetstartedatall.Andonnodaydidtheysucceedinmakingmorethanhalfthedistanceusedbythemenasabasisintheirdog-foodcomputation.Itwasinevitablethattheyshouldgoshortondog-food.Buttheyhastenedit

byoverfeeding, bringing the daynearerwhenunderfeedingwould commence.TheOutsidedogs,whosedigestionshadnotbeen trainedbychronicfamine tomakethemostof little,hadvoraciousappetites.Andwhen, inadditionto this,theworn-outhuskiespulledweakly,Haldecidedthattheorthodoxrationwastoosmall.Hedoubledit.Andtocapitall,whenMercedes,withtearsinherprettyeyesandaquaver inher throat,couldnotcajolehim intogiving thedogsstillmore,shestolefromthefish-sacksandfedthemslyly.ButitwasnotfoodthatBuckandthehuskiesneeded,butrest.Andthoughtheyweremakingpoortime,theheavyloadtheydraggedsappedtheirstrengthseverely.Thencametheunderfeeding.Halawokeonedaytothefactthathisdog-food

was half gone and the distance only quarter covered; further, that for love ormoney no additional dog-food was to be obtained. So he cut down even theorthodoxrationandtriedto increasetheday’s travel.Hissisterandbrother-in-lawsecondedhim;buttheywerefrustratedbytheirheavyoutfitandtheirownincompetence. It was a simple matter to give the dogs less food; but it wasimpossibletomakethedogstravelfaster,whiletheirowninabilitytogetunderway earlier in the morning prevented them from travelling longer hours. Notonlydidtheynotknowhowtoworkdogs,buttheydidnotknowhowtoworkthemselves.The first to gowasDub. Poor blundering thief that hewas, always getting

caughtandpunished,hehadnonethelessbeenafaithfulworker.Hiswrenchedshoulder-blade,untreatedandunrested,wentfrombadtoworse,tillfinallyHalshothimwiththebigColt’srevolver.ItisasayingofthecountrythatanOutsidedog starves todeathon the rationof thehusky, so the sixOutsidedogsunderBuck could do no less than die on half the ration of the husky. TheNewfoundlandwent first, followed by the three short-haired pointers, the two

mongrelshangingmoregrittilyontolife,butgoingintheend.By this time all the amenities and gentlenesses of the Southland had fallen

away from the three people. Shorn of its glamour and romance, Arctic travelbecame to them a reality too harsh for their manhood and womanhood.Mercedesceasedweepingoverthedogs,beingtoooccupiedwithweepingoverherself andwith quarrellingwith her husband and brother.To quarrelwas theone thing theywerenever tooweary todo.Their irritabilityaroseoutof theirmisery, increased with it, doubled upon it, outdistanced it. The wonderfulpatience of the trail which comes to men who toil hard and suffer sore, andremain sweet of speech and kindly, did not come to these two men and thewoman.They had no inkling of such a patience. Theywere stiff and in pain;theirmusclesached,theirbonesached,theirveryheartsached;andbecauseofthistheybecamesharpofspeech,andhardwordswerefirstontheirlipsinthemorningandlastatnight.CharlesandHalwrangledwheneverMercedesgavethemachance.Itwasthe

cherishedbeliefofeachthathedidmorethanhisshareofthework,andneitherforboretospeakthisbeliefateveryopportunity.SometimesMercedessidedwithher husband, sometimes with her brother. The result was a beautiful andunendingfamilyquarrel.Startingfromadisputeastowhichshouldchopafewsticks for the fire (adisputewhichconcernedonlyCharlesandHal),presentlywould be lugged in the rest of the family, fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,people thousandsofmilesaway,andsomeof themdead.ThatHal’sviewsonart,orthesortofsocietyplayshismother’sbrotherwrote,shouldhaveanythingto do with the chopping of a few sticks of firewood, passes comprehension;neverthelessthequarrelwasaslikelytotendinthatdirectionasinthedirectionofCharles’spoliticalprejudices.AndthatCharles’ssister’s tale-bearingtongueshould be relevant to the building of a Yukon fire, was apparent only toMercedes, who disburdened herself of copious opinions upon that topic, andincidentally upon a few other traits unpleasantly peculiar to her husband’sfamily.Inthemeantimethefireremainedunbuilt,thecamphalfpitched,andthedogsunfed.Mercedes nursed a special grievance—the grievance of sex. Shewas pretty

and soft, and had been chivalrously treated all her days. But the presenttreatmentbyherhusbandandbrotherwaseverythingsavechivalrous.Itwashercustomtobehelpless.Theycomplained.Uponwhich impeachmentofwhat toher was hermost essential sex-prerogative, shemade their lives unendurable.She no longer considered the dogs, and because she was sore and tired, shepersisted in riding on the sled. Shewas pretty and soft, but sheweighed one

hundredandtwentypounds—alustylaststrawtotheloaddraggedbytheweakandstarvinganimals.Sherodefordays, till theyfell in the tracesandthesledstood still.Charles andHal beggedher to get off andwalk, pleadedwith her,entreated, the while she wept and importuned Heaven with a recital of theirbrutality.Ononeoccasiontheytookheroffthesledbymainstrength.Theyneverdidit

again.She let her legsgo limp like a spoiled child, and satdownon the trail.Theywent on theirway, but she did notmove.After they had travelled threemilestheyunloadedthesled,camebackforher,andbymainstrengthputheronthesledagain.In theexcessof theirownmisery theywerecallous to thesufferingof their

animals. Hal’s theory, which he practised on others, was that one must gethardened.Hehadstartedoutpreachingittohissisterandbrother-in-law.Failingthere,hehammereditintothedogswithaclub.AttheFiveFingersthedog-foodgaveout,andatoothlessoldsquawofferedtotradethemafewpoundsoffrozenhorse-hide for the Colt’s revolver that kept the big hunting-knife company atHal’ship.Apoorsubstituteforfoodwasthishide, justas ithadbeenstrippedfromthestarvedhorsesof thecattlemensixmonthsback. In its frozenstate itwas more like strips of galvanized iron, and when a dog wrestled it into hisstomachit thawedintothinandinnutritiousleatherystringsandintoamassofshorthair,irritatingandindigestible.And through it all Buck staggered along at the head of the team as in a

nightmare.Hepulledwhenhecould;whenhecouldnolongerpull,hefelldownandremaineddowntillblowsfromwhiporclubdrovehimtohisfeetagain.Allthe stiffness andglosshadgoneout ofhisbeautiful furry coat.Thehair hungdown, limp and draggled, or matted with dried blood where Hal’s club hadbruisedhim.Hismuscleshadwastedawaytoknottystrings,andthefleshpadshad disappeared, so that each rib and every bone in his frame were outlinedcleanly through the loosehide thatwaswrinkled in foldsof emptiness. Itwasheartbreaking,onlyBuck’sheartwasunbreakable.Theman in the redsweaterhadprovedthat.As it was with Buck, so was it with his mates. They were perambulating

skeletons. There were seven all together, including him. In their very greatmisery they had become insensible to the bite of the lash or the bruise of theclub.Thepainof thebeatingwasdullanddistant, justas the things theireyessawandtheirearsheardseemeddullanddistant.Theywerenothalfliving,orquarterliving.Theyweresimplysomanybagsofbonesinwhichsparksoflifefluttered faintly.When a haltwasmade, they dropped down in the traces like

deaddogs,andthesparkdimmedandpaledandseemedtogoout.Andwhenthecluborwhipfelluponthem, thesparkflutteredfeeblyup,and they tottered totheirfeetandstaggeredon.TherecameadaywhenBillee,thegood-natured,fellandcouldnotrise.Hal

hadtradedoffhisrevolver,sohetooktheaxeandknockedBilleeontheheadashelayinthetraces,thencutthecarcassoutoftheharnessanddraggedittooneside.Bucksaw,andhismatessaw,andtheyknewthatthisthingwasveryclosetothem.OnthenextdayKoonawent,andbutfiveofthemremained:Joe,toofargonetobemalignant;Pike,crippledandlimping,onlyhalfconsciousandnotconsciousenoughlongertomalinger;Sol-leks,theone-eyed,stillfaithfultothetoiloftraceandtrail,andmournfulinthathehadsolittlestrengthwithwhichtopull; Teek,who had not travelled so far thatwinter andwhowas now beatenmorethantheothersbecausehewasfresher;andBuck,stillat theheadof theteam, but no longer enforcing discipline or striving to enforce it, blind withweaknesshalfthetimeandkeepingthetrailbytheloomofitandbythedimfeelofhisfeet.Itwasbeautifulspringweather,butneitherdogsnorhumanswereawareofit.

Eachdaythesunroseearlierandsetlater.Itwasdawnbythreeinthemorning,and twilight lingered till nine at night. The whole long day was a blaze ofsunshine.Theghostlywintersilencehadgivenwaytothegreatspringmurmurofawakeninglife.Thismurmurarosefromalltheland,fraughtwiththejoyofliving. It came from the things that lived andmoved again, thingswhich hadbeenasdeadandwhichhadnotmovedduringthelongmonthsoffrost.Thesapwasrisinginthepines.Thewillowsandaspenswereburstingoutinyoungbuds.Shrubs and vines were putting on fresh garbs of green. Crickets sang in thenights,andinthedaysallmannerofcreeping,crawlingthingsrustledforthintothesun.Partridgesandwoodpeckerswereboomingandknockingintheforest.Squirrels were chattering, birds singing, and overhead honked the wild-fowldrivingupfromthesouthincunningwedgesthatsplittheair.Fromeveryhillslopecamethetrickleofrunningwater,themusicofunseen

fountains.Allthingswerethawing,bending,snapping.TheYukonwasstrainingtobreakloosetheicethatbounditdown.Itateawayfrombeneath;thesunatefrom above. Air-holes formed, fissures sprang and spread apart, while thinsections of ice fell through bodily into the river. And amid all this bursting,rending,throbbingofawakeninglife,undertheblazingsunandthroughthesoft-sighingbreezes,likewayfarerstodeath,staggeredthetwomen,thewoman,andthehuskies.With the dogs falling, Mercedes weeping and riding, Hal swearing

innocuously, and Charles’s eyes wistfully watering, they staggered into JohnThornton’s camp at the mouth of White River. When they halted, the dogsdroppeddownasthoughtheyhadallbeenstruckdead.Mercedesdriedhereyesand looked at JohnThornton.Charles sat downon a log to rest.He sat downvery slowly and painstakinglywhat of his great stiffness.Hal did the talking.John Thornton was whittling the last touches on an axe-handle he had madefromastickofbirch.Hewhittledandlistened,gavemonosyllabicreplies,and,whenitwasasked, terseadvice.Heknewthebreed,andhegavehisadviceinthecertaintythatitwouldnotbefollowed.“Theytoldusupabovethatthebottomwasdroppingoutofthetrailandthat

thebestthingforustodowastolayover,”HalsaidinresponsetoThornton’swarning to takenomorechanceson the rotten ice. “They tolduswecouldn’tmakeWhiteRiver,andhereweare.”Thislastwithasneeringringoftriumphinit.“And they toldyou true,” JohnThornton answered. “Thebottom’s likely to

drop out at anymoment.Only fools,with the blind luck of fools, could havemadeit.Itellyoustraight,Iwouldn’triskmycarcassonthaticeforallthegoldinAlaska.”“That’sbecauseyou’renotafool,Isuppose,”saidHal.“Allthesame,we’ll

goontoDawson.”Heuncoiledhiswhip.“Getupthere,Buck!Hi!Getupthere!Mushon!”Thorntonwentonwhittling.Itwasidle,heknew,togetbetweenafoolandhis

folly;whiletwoorthreefoolsmoreorlesswouldnotaltertheschemeofthings.Buttheteamdidnotgetupatthecommand.Ithadlongsincepassedintothe

stage where blows were required to rouse it. The whip flashed out, here andthere,onitsmercilesserrands.JohnThorntoncompressedhislips.Sol-lekswasthe first tocrawl tohis feet.Teek followed. Joecamenext,yelpingwithpain.Pikemade painful efforts. Twice he fell over, when half up, and on the thirdattempt managed to rise. Buck made no effort. He lay quietly where he hadfallen. The lash bit into him again and again, but he neither whined norstruggled.Several timesThornton started, as though to speak,but changedhismind.Amoisturecameintohiseyes,and,as thewhippingcontinued,hearoseandwalkedirresolutelyupanddown.Thiswas the first timeBuckhad failed, in itself a sufficient reason todrive

Halintoarage.Heexchangedthewhipforthecustomaryclub.Buckrefusedtomoveundertherainofheavierblowswhichnowfelluponhim.Likehismates,hewasbarelyabletogetup,but,unlikethem,hehadmadeuphismindnotto

getup.Hehadavaguefeelingofimpendingdoom.Thishadbeenstronguponhimwhenhepulledinto thebank,andithadnotdepartedfromhim.Whatofthethinandrottenicehehadfeltunderhisfeetallday,itseemedthathesenseddisastercloseathand,outthereaheadontheicewherehismasterwastryingtodrivehim.Herefusedtostir.Sogreatlyhadhesuffered,andsofargonewashe,that theblowsdidnothurtmuch.Andas theycontinued to falluponhim, thesparkoflifewithinflickeredandwentdown.Itwasnearlyout.Hefeltstrangelynumb.Asthoughfromagreatdistance,hewasawarethathewasbeingbeaten.The last sensations of pain left him. He no longer felt anything, though veryfaintlyhecouldheartheimpactoftheclubuponhisbody.Butitwasnolongerhisbody,itseemedsofaraway.Andthen,suddenly,withoutwarning,utteringacrythatwasinarticulateand

morelikethecryofananimal,JohnThorntonspranguponthemanwhowieldedtheclub.Halwashurledbackward,asthoughstruckbyafallingtree.Mercedesscreamed.Charleslookedonwistfully,wipedhiswateryeyes,butdidnotgetupbecauseofhisstiffness.JohnThorntonstoodoverBuck,strugglingtocontrolhimself,tooconvulsed

withragetospeak.“If you strike that dog again, I’ll kill you,” he at lastmanaged to say in a

chokingvoice.“It’smydog,”Halreplied,wipingthebloodfromhismouthashecameback.

“Getoutofmyway,orI’llfixyou.I’mgoingtoDawson.”Thornton stood between him andBuck, and evinced no intention of getting

out of the way. Hal drew his long hunting-knife. Mercedes screamed, cried,laughed,andmanifestedthechaoticabandonmentofhysteria.ThorntonrappedHal’sknuckleswiththeaxe-handle,knockingtheknifetotheground.Herappedhis knuckles again as he tried to pick it up. Then he stooped, picked it uphimself,andwithtwostrokescutBuck’straces.Halhadnofightleftinhim.Besides,hishandswerefullwithhissister,orhis

arms, rather;whileBuckwas tooneardead tobeof furtheruse inhauling thesled.Afewminuteslatertheypulledoutfromthebankanddowntheriver.Buckheardthemgoandraisedhisheadtosee,Pikewasleading,Sol-lekswasatthewheel, and between were Joe and Teek. They were limping and staggering.Mercedeswas riding the loaded sled.Hal guided at the gee-pole, andCharlesstumbledalongintherear.As Buckwatched them, Thornton knelt beside him andwith rough, kindly

handssearchedforbrokenbones.Bythetimehissearchhaddisclosednothing

morethanmanybruisesandastateofterriblestarvation,thesledwasaquarterofamileaway.Dogandmanwatcheditcrawlingalongovertheice.Suddenly,they saw its back end drop down, as into a rut, and the gee-pole, with Halclingingtoit,jerkintotheair.Mercedes’sscreamcametotheirears.TheysawCharlesturnandmakeonesteptorunback,andthenawholesectionoficegiveway and dogs and humans disappear. A yawning hole was all that was to beseen.Thebottomhaddroppedoutofthetrail.JohnThorntonandBucklookedateachother.“Youpoordevil,”saidJohnThornton,andBucklickedhishand.

ChapterVI.FortheLoveofaMan

WhenJohnThorntonfrozehisfeetinthepreviousDecemberhispartnershadmadehimcomfortableandlefthimtogetwell,goingonthemselvesuptherivertogetoutaraftofsaw-logsforDawson.HewasstilllimpingslightlyatthetimeherescuedBuck,butwiththecontinuedwarmweathereventheslightlimplefthim.Andhere, lyingby theriverbankthroughthe longspringdays,watchingtherunningwater, listening lazily to thesongsofbirdsand thehumofnature,Buckslowlywonbackhisstrength.A rest comesverygood after one has travelled three thousandmiles, and it

must be confessed that Buck waxed lazy as his wounds healed, his musclesswelledout, and the fleshcameback to coverhisbones.For thatmatter, theywere all loafing,—Buck, John Thornton, and Skeet andNig,—waiting for theraft to come thatwas to carry them down toDawson. Skeetwas a little IrishsetterwhoearlymadefriendswithBuck,who,inadyingcondition,wasunabletoresentherfirstadvances.Shehadthedoctor traitwhichsomedogspossess;and as a mother cat washes her kittens, so she washed and cleansed Buck’swounds. Regularly, each morning after he had finished his breakfast, sheperformedherself-appointed task, tillhecame to look forherministrationsasmuchashedidforThornton’s.Nig,equallyfriendly,thoughlessdemonstrative,was a huge black dog, half bloodhound and half deerhound, with eyes thatlaughedandaboundlessgoodnature.To Buck’s surprise these dogs manifested no jealousy toward him. They

seemed toshare thekindlinessand largenessofJohnThornton.AsBuckgrewstrongertheyenticedhimintoallsortsofridiculousgames,inwhichThorntonhimselfcouldnotforbear to join;andin thisfashionBuckrompedthroughhisconvalescenceandintoanewexistence.Love,genuinepassionatelove,washisfor thefirst time.ThishehadneverexperiencedatJudgeMiller’sdowninthesun-kissedSantaClaraValley.With the Judge’s sons,huntingand tramping, ithadbeenaworkingpartnership;withtheJudge’sgrandsons,asortofpompousguardianship;andwiththeJudgehimself,astatelyanddignifiedfriendship.Butlovethatwasfeverishandburning,thatwasadoration,thatwasmadness,ithad

takenJohnThorntontoarouse.Thismanhad savedhis life,whichwas something; but, further, hewas the

idealmaster.Othermensaw to thewelfareof theirdogs froma senseofdutyandbusinessexpediency;hesaw to thewelfareofhisas if theywerehisownchildren, because he could not help it.And he saw further.He never forgot akindlygreetingor a cheeringword, and to sit down for a long talkwith them(“gas”hecalled it)wasasmuchhisdelightas theirs.Hehadawayof takingBuck’sheadroughlybetweenhishands,andrestinghisownheaduponBuck’s,ofshakinghimbackandforth,thewhilecallinghimillnamesthattoBuckwerelovenames.Buckknewnogreaterjoythanthatroughembraceandthesoundofmurmuredoaths,andateachjerkbackandforthitseemedthathisheartwouldbeshakenoutofhisbodysogreatwasitsecstasy.Andwhen,released,hesprangto his feet, his mouth laughing, his eyes eloquent, his throat vibrant withunutteredsound,andinthatfashionremainedwithoutmovement,JohnThorntonwouldreverentlyexclaim,“God!youcanallbutspeak!”Buck had a trick of love expression that was akin to hurt. Hewould often

seizeThornton’shandinhismouthandclosesofiercelythatthefleshboretheimpressofhisteethforsometimeafterward.AndasBuckunderstoodtheoathstobelovewords,sothemanunderstoodthisfeignedbiteforacaress.Forthemostpart,however,Buck’slovewasexpressedinadoration.Whilehe

wentwildwithhappinesswhenThorntontouchedhimorspoketohim,hedidnot seek these tokens. Unlike Skeet, who was wont to shove her nose underThornton’s hand andnudge andnudge till petted, orNig,whowould stalk upand rest his great head on Thornton’s knee, Buck was content to adore at adistance.Hewould lieby thehour, eager, alert, atThornton’s feet, lookingupintohisface,dwellinguponit,studyingit,followingwithkeenestinteresteachfleetingexpression,everymovementorchangeoffeature.Or,aschancemighthaveit,hewouldliefartheraway,tothesideorrear,watchingtheoutlinesoftheman and the occasional movements of his body. And often, such was thecommunion inwhich they lived, thestrengthofBuck’sgazewoulddrawJohnThornton’sheadaround,andhewouldreturnthegaze,withoutspeech,hisheartshiningoutofhiseyesasBuck’sheartshoneout.Foralongtimeafterhisrescue,BuckdidnotlikeThorntontogetoutofhis

sight.Fromthemomentheleftthetenttowhenheentereditagain,Buckwouldfollowathisheels.HistransientmasterssincehehadcomeintotheNorthlandhadbred inhima fear that nomaster couldbepermanent.Hewas afraid thatThorntonwouldpassoutofhislifeasPerraultandFrançoisandtheScotchhalf-breedhadpassedout.Eveninthenight, inhisdreams,hewashauntedbythis

fear.Atsuchtimeshewouldshakeoffsleepandcreepthroughthechill to theflap of the tent,where hewould stand and listen to the sound of hismaster’sbreathing.But in spite of this great love he bore John Thornton, which seemed to

bespeak the soft civilizing influence, the strain of the primitive, which theNorthland had aroused in him, remained alive and active. Faithfulness anddevotion,thingsbornoffireandroof,werehis;yetheretainedhiswildnessandwiliness. He was a thing of the wild, come in from the wild to sit by JohnThornton’sfire,ratherthanadogofthesoftSouthlandstampedwiththemarksofgenerationsofcivilization.Becauseofhisverygreatlove,hecouldnotstealfromthisman,butfromanyotherman,inanyothercamp,hedidnothesitateaninstant;whilethecunningwithwhichhestoleenabledhimtoescapedetection.His faceandbodywerescoredby the teethofmanydogs,andhefoughtas

fiercely as ever andmore shrewdly. Skeet andNigwere too good-natured forquarrelling,—besides, theybelongedtoJohnThornton;but thestrangedog,nomatter what the breed or valor, swiftly acknowledged Buck’s supremacy orfound himself struggling for life with a terrible antagonist. And Buck wasmerciless.Hehadlearnedwellthelawofclubandfang,andheneverforewentanadvantageordrewbackfromafoehehadstartedon theway toDeath.HehadlessonedfromSpitz,andfromthechieffightingdogsofthepoliceandmail,andknewtherewasnomiddlecourse.Hemustmasterorbemastered;whiletoshowmercywasaweakness.Mercydidnotexist intheprimordial life.Itwasmisunderstoodforfear,andsuchmisunderstandingsmadefordeath.Killorbekilled,eatorbeeaten,wasthelaw;andthismandate,downoutofthedepthsofTime,heobeyed.Hewas older than the days he had seen and the breaths he had drawn.He

linked thepastwith thepresent, and theeternitybehindhim throbbed throughhiminamightyrhythmtowhichheswayedasthetidesandseasonsswayed.HesatbyJohnThornton’sfire,abroad-breasteddog,white-fangedandlong-furred;but behind himwere the shades of all manner of dogs, half-wolves andwildwolves,urgentandprompting,tastingthesavorofthemeatheate,thirstingforthewaterhedrank, scenting thewindwithhim, listeningwithhimand tellinghimthesoundsmadebythewildlifeintheforest,dictatinghismoods,directinghisactions,lyingdowntosleepwithhimwhenhelaydown,anddreamingwithhimandbeyondhimandbecomingthemselvesthestuffofhisdreams.Soperemptorilydidtheseshadesbeckonhim,thateachdaymankindandthe

claims of mankind slipped farther from him. Deep in the forest a call wassounding,andasoftenasheheardthiscall,mysteriouslythrillingandluring,he

feltcompelledtoturnhisbackuponthefireandthebeateneartharoundit,andtoplungeintotheforest,andonandon,heknewnotwhereorwhy;nordidhewonderwhereorwhy,thecallsoundingimperiously,deepintheforest.Butasoftenashegainedthesoftunbrokenearthandthegreenshade,theloveforJohnThorntondrewhimbacktothefireagain.Thornton alone held him. The rest of mankind was as nothing. Chance

travellersmightpraiseorpethim;buthewascoldunder itall,andfromatoodemonstrativemanhewouldgetupandwalkaway.WhenThornton’spartners,HansandPete,arrivedonthelong-expectedraft,BuckrefusedtonoticethemtillhelearnedtheywereclosetoThornton;afterthathetoleratedtheminapassivesortofway,acceptingfavorsfromthemasthoughhefavoredthembyaccepting.TheywereofthesamelargetypeasThornton,livingclosetotheearth,thinkingsimplyandseeingclearly;anderetheyswungtheraftintothebigeddybythesaw-millatDawson,theyunderstoodBuckandhisways,anddidnotinsistuponanintimacysuchasobtainedwithSkeetandNig.ForThornton,however,hisloveseemedtogrowandgrow.He,aloneamong

men,couldputapackuponBuck’sbackinthesummertravelling.NothingwastoogreatforBucktodo,whenThorntoncommanded.Oneday(theyhadgrub-staked themselves from theproceedsof the raftand leftDawson for thehead-watersoftheTanana)themenanddogsweresittingonthecrestofacliffwhichfell away, straight down, to naked bed-rock three hundred feet below. JohnThorntonwas sittingnear the edge,Buck at his shoulder.A thoughtlesswhimseizedThornton,andhedrewtheattentionofHansandPetetotheexperimenthehadinmind.“Jump,Buck!”hecommanded,sweepinghisarmoutandoverthechasm.Thenext instanthewasgrapplingwithBuckon theextremeedge,whileHansandPeteweredraggingthembackintosafety.“It’suncanny,”Petesaid,afteritwasoverandtheyhadcaughttheirspeech.Thornton shookhis head. “No, it is splendid, and it is terrible, too.Doyou

know,itsometimesmakesmeafraid.”“I’mnothankeringtobethemanthatlayshandsonyouwhilehe’saround,”

Peteannouncedconclusively,noddinghisheadtowardBuck.“PyJingo!”wasHans’scontribution.“Notmineselfeither.”It was at Circle City, ere the year was out, that Pete’s apprehensions were

realized.“Black”Burton,amanevil-temperedandmalicious,hadbeenpickingaquarrel with a tenderfoot at the bar, when Thornton stepped good-naturedlybetween. Buck, as was his custom, was lying in a corner, head on paws,watchinghismaster’severyaction.Burtonstruckout,withoutwarning,straight

fromtheshoulder.Thorntonwassentspinning,andsavedhimself fromfallingonlybyclutchingtherailofthebar.Those who were looking on heard what was neither bark nor yelp, but a

somethingwhichisbestdescribedasaroar,andtheysawBuck’sbodyriseupinthe air as he left the floor for Burton’s throat. The man saved his life byinstinctively throwing out his arm, butwas hurled backward to the floorwithBuckontopofhim.Buckloosedhisteethfromthefleshofthearmanddroveinagainforthethroat.Thistimethemansucceededonlyinpartlyblocking,andhisthroatwastornopen.ThenthecrowdwasuponBuck,andhewasdrivenoff;butwhile a surgeon checked the bleeding, he prowled up and down, growlingfuriously, attempting to rush in, and being forced back by an array of hostileclubs. A “miners’ meeting,” called on the spot, decided that the dog hadsufficientprovocation,andBuckwasdischarged.Buthisreputationwasmade,andfromthatdayhisnamespreadthrougheverycampinAlaska.Lateron,inthefalloftheyear,hesavedJohnThornton’slifeinquiteanother

fashion.The threepartnerswere lining a long andnarrowpoling-boatdownabadstretchofrapidsontheForty-MileCreek.HansandPetemovedalongthebank, snubbing with a thin Manila rope from tree to tree, while Thorntonremained in the boat, helping its descent by means of a pole, and shoutingdirectionstotheshore.Buck,onthebank,worriedandanxious,keptabreastoftheboat,hiseyesneveroffhismaster.Ataparticularlybadspot,wherealedgeofbarelysubmergedrocksjuttedout

intotheriver,Hanscastofftherope,and,whileThorntonpoledtheboatoutintothestream,randownthebankwiththeendinhishandtosnubtheboatwhenithadcleared the ledge.This it did, andwas flyingdown-stream in a current asswift as a mill-race, when Hans checked it with the rope and checked toosuddenly. The boat flirted over and snubbed in to the bank bottom up, whileThornton,flungsheeroutofit,wascarrieddown-streamtowardtheworstpartoftherapids,astretchofwildwaterinwhichnoswimmercouldlive.Buckhadsprunginontheinstant;andattheendofthreehundredyards,amid

amadswirlofwater,heoverhauledThornton.Whenhefelthimgrasphistail,Buck headed for the bank, swimming with all his splendid strength. But theprogressshorewardwasslow;theprogressdown-streamamazinglyrapid.Frombelowcamethefatalroaringwherethewildcurrentwentwilderandwasrentinshredsandspraybytherockswhichthrustthroughliketheteethofanenormouscomb.Thesuckofthewaterasittookthebeginningofthelaststeeppitchwasfrightful, and Thornton knew that the shore was impossible. He scrapedfuriouslyoverarock,bruisedacrossasecond,andstruckathirdwithcrushing

force.Heclutched its slippery topwithbothhands, releasingBuck,andabovetheroarofthechurningwatershouted:“Go,Buck!Go!”Buck could not hold his own, and swept on down-stream, struggling

desperately, but unable to win back. When he heard Thornton’s commandrepeated,hepartlyrearedoutofthewater,throwinghisheadhigh,asthoughfora last look, then turned obediently toward the bank.He swampowerfully andwasdraggedashorebyPeteandHansattheverypointwhereswimmingceasedtobepossibleanddestructionbegan.Theyknewthat the timeamancouldcling toaslippery rock in the faceof

thatdrivingcurrentwasamatterofminutes,andtheyranasfastastheycouldupthebanktoapointfarabovewhereThorntonwashangingon.Theyattachedthe line with which they had been snubbing the boat to Buck’s neck andshoulders, being careful that it should neither strangle him nor impede hisswimming, and launched him into the stream. He struck out boldly, but notstraight enough into the stream. He discovered the mistake too late, whenThorntonwasabreastofhimandabarehalf-dozenstrokesawaywhilehewasbeingcarriedhelplesslypast.Hanspromptlysnubbedwiththerope,asthoughBuckwereaboat.Therope

thus tightening on him in the sweep of the current, he was jerked under thesurface,andunderthesurfaceheremainedtillhisbodystruckagainstthebankand he was hauled out. He was half drowned, and Hans and Pete threwthemselvesuponhim,poundingthebreathintohimandthewateroutofhim.Hestaggeredtohisfeetandfelldown.ThefaintsoundofThornton’svoicecametothem,andthoughtheycouldnotmakeoutthewordsofit,theyknewthathewasin his extremity. Hismaster’s voice acted on Buck like an electric shock,Hesprang to his feet and ran up the bank ahead of the men to the point of hispreviousdeparture.Againtheropewasattachedandhewaslaunched,andagainhestruckout,but

thistimestraightintothestream.Hehadmiscalculatedonce,buthewouldnotbeguiltyofitasecondtime.Hanspaidouttherope,permittingnoslack,whilePete kept it clear of coils. Buck held on till he was on a line straight aboveThornton; thenhe turned,andwith thespeedofanexpress trainheadeddownuponhim.Thorntonsawhimcoming,and,asBuckstruckhimlikeabatteringram,withthewholeforceofthecurrentbehindhim,hereachedupandclosedwithbotharmsaroundtheshaggyneck.Hanssnubbedtheropearoundthetree,and Buck and Thornton were jerked under the water. Strangling, suffocating,sometimes one uppermost and sometimes the other, dragging over the jaggedbottom,smashingagainstrocksandsnags,theyveeredintothebank.

Thornton came to, belly downward and being violently propelled back andforth across a drift logbyHans andPete.His first glancewas forBuck, overwhoselimpandapparentlylifelessbodyNigwassettingupahowl,whileSkeetwas licking the wet face and closed eyes. Thornton was himself bruised andbattered, and hewent carefully over Buck’s body,when he had been broughtaround,findingthreebrokenribs.“Thatsettlesit,”heannounced.“Wecamprighthere.”Andcamptheydid,till

Buck’sribsknittedandhewasabletotravel.That winter, at Dawson, Buck performed another exploit, not so heroic,

perhaps, but one that put his namemany notches higher on the totem-pole ofAlaskanfame.Thisexploitwasparticularlygratifyingtothethreemen;fortheystoodinneedoftheoutfitwhichitfurnished,andwereenabledtomakealong-desired trip into the virgin East, where miners had not yet appeared. It wasbroughtaboutbyaconversation in theEldoradoSaloon, inwhichmenwaxedboastfulof their favoritedogs.Buck,becauseofhis record,was the target forthesemen,andThorntonwasdrivenstoutlytodefendhim.Attheendofhalfanhouronemanstatedthathisdogcouldstartasledwithfivehundredpoundsandwalkoffwith it; a secondbragged sixhundred forhisdog; anda third, sevenhundred.“Pooh!pooh!”saidJohnThornton;“Buckcanstartathousandpounds.”“And break it out? and walk off with it for a hundred yards?” demanded

Matthewson,aBonanzaKing,heofthesevenhundredvaunt.“Andbreakitout,andwalkoffwith it forahundredyards,”JohnThornton

saidcoolly.“Well,”Matthewsonsaid,slowlyanddeliberately,sothatallcouldhear,“I’ve

gotathousanddollarsthatsayshecan’t.Andthereitis.”Sosaying,heslammedasackofgolddustofthesizeofabolognasausagedownuponthebar.Nobodyspoke.Thornton’sbluff,ifbluffitwas,hadbeencalled.Hecouldfeel

aflushofwarmbloodcreepinguphisface.Histonguehadtrickedhim.Hedidnot know whether Buck could start a thousand pounds. Half a ton! Theenormousnessofitappalledhim.HehadgreatfaithinBuck’sstrengthandhadoften thought him capable of starting such a load; but never, as now, had hefaced thepossibilityof it, theeyesofadozenmen fixeduponhim, silent andwaiting.Further,hehadnothousanddollars;norhadHansorPete.“I’vegotasledstandingoutsidenow,withtwentyfiftypoundsacksofflouron

it,”Matthewsonwentonwithbrutaldirectness;“sodon’tletthathinderyou.”Thorntondidnotreply.Hedidnotknowwhattosay.Heglancedfromfaceto

faceintheabsentwayofamanwhohaslostthepowerofthoughtandisseekingsomewhere to find the thing that will start it going again. The face of JimO’Brien,aMastodonKingandold-timecomrade,caughthiseyes. Itwasasacuetohim,seemingtorousehimtodowhathewouldneverhavedreamedofdoing.“Canyoulendmeathousand?”heasked,almostinawhisper.“Sure,” answered O’Brien, thumping down a plethoric sack by the side of

Matthewson’s.“Thoughit’slittlefaithI’mhaving,John,thatthebeastcandothetrick.”TheEldoradoemptieditsoccupantsintothestreettoseethetest.Thetables

weredeserted,andthedealersandgamekeeperscameforthtoseetheoutcomeofthewagerandtolayodds.Severalhundredmen,furredandmittened,bankedaroundthesledwithineasydistance.Matthewson’ssled,loadedwithathousandpoundsofflour,hadbeenstandingforacoupleofhours,andintheintensecold(itwas sixtybelowzero) the runnershad frozen fast to thehard-packedsnow.MenofferedoddsoftwotoonethatBuckcouldnotbudgethesled.Aquibblearoseconcerning thephrase“breakout.”O’Briencontended itwasThornton’sprivilegetoknocktherunnersloose,leavingBuckto“breakitout”fromadeadstandstill. Matthewson insisted that the phrase included breaking the runnersfromthefrozengripofthesnow.Amajorityofthemenwhohadwitnessedthemakingofthebetdecidedinhisfavor,whereattheoddswentuptothreetooneagainstBuck.Therewerenotakers.Notamanbelievedhimcapableofthefeat.Thornton

hadbeenhurriedintothewager,heavywithdoubt;andnowthathelookedatthesleditself, theconcretefact,withtheregularteamoftendogscurledupinthesnow before it, the more impossible the task appeared. Matthewson waxedjubilant.“Three toone!”heproclaimed.“I’ll layyouanother thousandat that figure,

Thornton.Whatd’yesay?”Thornton’sdoubtwasstronginhisface,buthisfightingspiritwasaroused—

thefightingspiritthatsoarsaboveodds,failstorecognizetheimpossible,andisdeaf to all save the clamor for battle. He calledHans and Pete to him. Theirsackswere slim, andwithhis own the threepartners could rake together onlytwohundreddollars.Intheebboftheirfortunes,thissumwastheirtotalcapital;yettheylaiditunhesitatinglyagainstMatthewson’ssixhundred.Theteamoftendogswasunhitched,andBuck,withhisownharness,wasput

intothesled.Hehadcaughtthecontagionoftheexcitement,andhefeltthatin

somewayhemustdoagreatthingforJohnThornton.Murmursofadmirationathissplendidappearancewentup.Hewasinperfectcondition,withoutanounceofsuperfluousflesh,andtheonehundredandfiftypoundsthatheweighedweresomanypoundsofgritandvirility.Hisfurrycoatshonewiththesheenofsilk.Down the neck and across the shoulders, his mane, in repose as it was, halfbristledandseemedtoliftwitheverymovement,asthoughexcessofvigormadeeachparticularhairaliveandactive.Thegreatbreastandheavyforelegswerenomorethaninproportionwiththerestofthebody,wherethemusclesshowedin tight rollsunderneath theskin.Menfelt thesemusclesandproclaimedthemhardasiron,andtheoddswentdowntotwotoone.“Gad, sir!Gad, sir!” stuttered amemberof the latest dynasty, a kingof the

SkookumBenches.“Iofferyoueighthundred forhim, sir,before the test, sir;eighthundredjustashestands.”ThorntonshookhisheadandsteppedtoBuck’sside.“Youmuststandofffromhim,”Matthewsonprotested.“Freeplayandplenty

ofroom.”Thecrowdfellsilent;onlycouldbeheard thevoicesof thegamblersvainly

offering two toone.EverybodyacknowledgedBuckamagnificentanimal,buttwenty fifty-pound sacks of flour bulked too large in their eyes for them toloosentheirpouch-strings.ThorntonkneltdownbyBuck’sside.Hetookhisheadinhistwohandsand

rested cheek on cheek. He did not playfully shake him, as was his wont, ormurmursoftlovecurses;buthewhisperedinhisear.“Asyouloveme,Buck.Asyouloveme,”waswhathewhispered.Buckwhinedwithsuppressedeagerness.The crowd was watching curiously. The affair was growing mysterious. It

seemedlikeaconjuration.AsThorntongottohisfeet,Buckseizedhismittenedhand between his jaws, pressing in with his teeth and releasing slowly, half-reluctantly. It was the answer, in terms, not of speech, but of love. Thorntonsteppedwellback.“Now,Buck,”hesaid.Bucktightenedthetraces,thenslackedthemforamatterofseveralinches.It

wasthewayhehadlearned.“Gee!”Thornton’svoicerangout,sharpinthetensesilence.Buckswung to the right,ending themovement inaplunge that tookup the

slackandwithasuddenjerkarrestedhisonehundredandfiftypounds.Theloadquivered,andfromundertherunnersaroseacrispcrackling.

“Haw!”Thorntoncommanded.Buckduplicatedthemanœuvre,thistimetotheleft.Thecracklingturnedinto

asnapping,thesledpivotingandtherunnersslippingandgratingseveralinchestotheside.Thesledwasbrokenout.Menwereholdingtheirbreaths,intenselyunconsciousofthefact.“Now,MUSH!”Thornton’s command cracked out like a pistol-shot. Buck threw himself

forward,tighteningthetraceswithajarringlunge.Hiswholebodywasgatheredcompactlytogetherinthetremendouseffort,themuscleswrithingandknottinglike live thingsunder the silky fur.Hisgreat chestwas low to theground,hisheadforwardanddown,whilehisfeetwereflyinglikemad,theclawsscarringthehard-packedsnowinparallelgrooves.Thesledswayedandtrembled,half-startedforward.Oneofhisfeetslipped,andonemangroanedaloud.Then thesledlurchedaheadinwhatappearedarapidsuccessionofjerks,thoughitneverreallycametoadeadstopagain...halfaninch...aninch...twoinches...Thejerksperceptiblydiminished;asthesledgainedmomentum,hecaughtthemup,tillitwasmovingsteadilyalong.Mengaspedandbegantobreatheagain,unawarethatforamomenttheyhad

ceasedtobreathe.Thorntonwasrunningbehind,encouragingBuckwithshort,cheerywords.Thedistancehadbeenmeasuredoff,andashenearedthepileoffirewoodwhichmarkedtheendofthehundredyards,acheerbegantogrowandgrow,whichburstintoaroarashepassedthefirewoodandhaltedatcommand.Everymanwastearinghimselfloose,evenMatthewson.Hatsandmittenswereflying in the air.Menwere shaking hands, it did notmatter with whom, andbubblingoverinageneralincoherentbabel.ButThornton fellonhiskneesbesideBuck.Headwasagainsthead,andhe

wasshakinghimbackandforth.ThosewhohurriedupheardhimcursingBuck,andhecursedhimlongandfervently,andsoftlyandlovingly.“Gad, sir! Gad, sir!” spluttered the Skookum Bench king. “I’ll give you a

thousandforhim,sir,athousand,sir—twelvehundred,sir.”Thorntonrosetohisfeet.Hiseyeswerewet.Thetearswerestreamingfrankly

downhischeeks.“Sir,”hesaidtotheSkookumBenchking,“no,sir.Youcangotohell,sir.It’sthebestIcandoforyou,sir.”BuckseizedThornton’shandinhisteeth.Thorntonshookhimbackandforth.

As though animated by a common impulse, the onlookers drew back to arespectfuldistance;norweretheyagainindiscreetenoughtointerrupt.

ChapterVII.TheSoundingoftheCall

WhenBuckearnedsixteenhundreddollarsinfiveminutesforJohnThornton,hemadeitpossibleforhismastertopayoffcertaindebtsandtojourneywithhispartnersintotheEastafterafabledlostmine,thehistoryofwhichwasasoldasthehistoryofthecountry.Manymenhadsoughtit;fewhadfoundit;andmorethanafewtherewerewhohadneverreturnedfromthequest.Thislostminewassteepedintragedyandshroudedinmystery.Nooneknewofthefirstman.Theoldesttraditionstoppedbeforeitgotbacktohim.Fromthebeginningtherehadbeenan ancient and ramshackle cabin.Dyingmenhad sworn to it, and to themine the site of which it marked, clinching their testimonywith nuggets thatwereunlikeanyknowngradeofgoldintheNorthland.But no livingman had looted this treasure house, and the deadwere dead;

whereforeJohnThorntonandPeteandHans,withBuckandhalfadozenotherdogs,facedintotheEastonanunknowntrailtoachievewheremenanddogsasgoodasthemselveshadfailed.TheysleddedseventymilesuptheYukon,swungtotheleftintotheStewartRiver,passedtheMayoandtheMcQuestion,andheldon until the Stewart itself became a streamlet, threading the upstanding peakswhichmarkedthebackboneofthecontinent.JohnThorntonaskedlittleofmanornature.Hewasunafraidofthewild.With

a handful of salt and a rifle he could plunge into the wilderness and farewhereverhepleasedandaslongashepleased.Beinginnohaste,Indianfashion,hehuntedhisdinnerinthecourseoftheday’stravel;andifhefailedtofindit,liketheIndian,hekeptontravelling,secureintheknowledgethatsoonerorlaterhewouldcometoit.So,onthisgreatjourneyintotheEast,straightmeatwasthebilloffare,ammunitionandtoolsprincipallymadeuptheloadonthesled,andthetime-cardwasdrawnuponthelimitlessfuture.To Buck it was boundless delight, this hunting, fishing, and indefinite

wandering through strange places. For weeks at a time they would hold onsteadily,dayafterday;andforweeksuponendtheywouldcamp,hereandthere,thedogsloafingandthemenburningholesthroughfrozenmuckandgravelandwashing countless pans of dirt by the heat of the fire. Sometimes they went

hungry, sometimes they feasted riotously, all according to the abundance ofgameandthefortuneofhunting.Summerarrived,anddogsandmenpackedontheir backs, rafted across blue mountain lakes, and descended or ascendedunknownriversinslenderboatswhipsawedfromthestandingforest.The months came and went, and back and forth they twisted through the

unchartedvastness,wherenomenwereandyetwheremenhadbeeniftheLostCabinweretrue.Theywentacrossdividesinsummerblizzards,shiveredunderthemidnight sun on nakedmountains between the timber line and the eternalsnows,droppedintosummervalleysamidswarminggnatsandflies,andintheshadowsofglacierspickedstrawberriesandflowersasripeandfairasanytheSouthland could boast. In the fall of the year they penetrated a weird lakecountry,sadandsilent,wherewildfowlhadbeen,butwherethentherewasnolife nor sign of life—only the blowing of chill winds, the forming of ice inshelteredplaces,andthemelancholyripplingofwavesonlonelybeaches.And through anotherwinter theywandered on the obliterated trails ofmen

whohadgonebefore.Once,theycameuponapathblazedthroughtheforest,anancientpath,andtheLostCabinseemedverynear.Butthepathbegannowhereandendednowhere,and it remainedmystery,as themanwhomade itand thereasonhemadeitremainedmystery.Anothertimetheychanceduponthetime-gravenwreckageofahuntinglodge,andamidtheshredsofrottedblanketsJohnThornton found a long-barrelled flint-lock. He knew it for a Hudson BayCompanygunoftheyoungdaysintheNorthwest,whensuchagunwasworthitsheight inbeaverskinspackedflat,And thatwasall—nohintas to themanwhoinanearlydayhadrearedthelodgeandleftthegunamongtheblankets.Springcameononcemore,andattheendofalltheirwanderingtheyfound,

nottheLostCabin,butashallowplacerinabroadvalleywherethegoldshowedlikeyellowbutteracrossthebottomofthewashing-pan.Theysoughtnofarther.Each day they worked earned them thousands of dollars in clean dust andnuggets,andtheyworkedeveryday.Thegoldwassackedinmoose-hidebags,fifty pounds to the bag, and piled like so much firewood outside the spruce-bough lodge. Like giants they toiled, days flashing on the heels of days likedreamsastheyheapedthetreasureup.Therewasnothing for thedogs todo, save thehauling inofmeatnowand

again thatThorntonkilled,andBuckspent longhoursmusingby thefire.Thevision of the short-legged hairy man came to him more frequently, now thattherewaslittleworktobedone;andoften,blinkingbythefire,Buckwanderedwithhiminthatotherworldwhichheremembered.Thesalientthingofthisotherworldseemedfear.Whenhewatchedthehairy

mansleepingbythefire,headbetweenhiskneesandhandsclaspedabove,Bucksawthathesleptrestlessly,withmanystartsandawakenings,atwhichtimeshewouldpeer fearfully into thedarknessandflingmorewoodupon the fire.Didtheywalkbythebeachofasea,wherethehairymangatheredshellfishandatethemashegathered,itwaswitheyesthatrovedeverywhereforhiddendangerandwithlegspreparedtorunlikethewindatitsfirstappearance.Throughtheforesttheycreptnoiselessly,Buckatthehairyman’sheels;andtheywerealertandvigilant,thepairofthem,earstwitchingandmovingandnostrilsquivering,forthemanheardandsmelledaskeenlyasBuck.Thehairymancouldspringupinto the trees and travel aheadas fast ason theground, swingingby thearmsfromlimbtolimb,sometimesadozenfeetapart,lettinggoandcatching,neverfalling,nevermissinghisgrip.Infact,heseemedasmuchathomeamongthetreesasontheground;andBuckhadmemoriesofnightsofvigilspentbeneathtreeswhereinthehairymanroosted,holdingontightlyasheslept.Andcloselyakintothevisionsofthehairymanwasthecallstillsoundingin

thedepthsof theforest. It filledhimwithagreatunrestandstrangedesires. Itcausedhimtofeelavague,sweetgladness,andhewasawareofwildyearningsandstirringsforheknewnotwhat.Sometimeshepursuedthecallintotheforest,lookingfor itas though itwerea tangible thing,barkingsoftlyordefiantly,asthemoodmightdictate.Hewould thrusthisnose into thecoolwoodmoss,orinto theblacksoilwhere longgrassesgrew,andsnortwith joyat the fatearthsmells; or he would crouch for hours, as if in concealment, behind fungus-coveredtrunksoffallentrees,wide-eyedandwide-earedtoall thatmovedandsoundedabouthim.Itmightbe,lyingthus,thathehopedtosurprisethiscallhecouldnotunderstand.Buthedidnotknowwhyhedidthesevariousthings.Hewasimpelledtodothem,anddidnotreasonaboutthematall.Irresistibleimpulsesseizedhim.Hewouldbelyingincamp,dozinglazilyin

the heat of the day,when suddenly his headwould lift and his ears cock up,intentandlistening,andhewouldspringtohisfeetanddashaway,andonandon, for hours, through the forest aisles and across the open spaces where theniggerheadsbunched.Helovedtorundowndrywatercourses,andtocreepandspy upon the bird life in the woods. For a day at a time he would lie in theunderbrushwherehecouldwatchthepartridgesdrummingandstruttingupanddown. But especially he loved to run in the dim twilight of the summermidnights, listening to the subdued and sleepymurmurs of the forest, readingsigns and sounds as man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterioussomethingthatcalled—called,wakingorsleeping,atalltimes,forhimtocome.Onenighthesprangfromsleepwithastart,eager-eyed,nostrilsquiveringand

scenting,hismanebristlinginrecurrentwaves.Fromtheforestcamethecall(oronenoteofit,forthecallwasmanynoted),distinctanddefiniteasneverbefore,—a long-drawnhowl, like, yet unlike, any noisemade by husky dog.Andheknewit,intheoldfamiliarway,asasoundheardbefore.Hesprangthroughthesleepingcampandinswiftsilencedashedthroughthewoods.Ashedrewclosertothecryhewentmoreslowly,withcautionineverymovement,tillhecametoan open place among the trees, and looking out saw, erect on haunches,withnosepointedtothesky,along,lean,timberwolf.Hehadmadenonoise,yet itceased from itshowlingand tried tosensehis

presence.Buckstalkedintotheopen,halfcrouching,bodygatheredcompactlytogether,tailstraightandstiff,feetfallingwithunwontedcare.Everymovementadvertised commingled threatening and overture of friendliness. It was themenacingtrucethatmarksthemeetingofwildbeaststhatprey.Butthewolffledatsightofhim.Hefollowed,withwildleapings,inafrenzytoovertake.Heranhimintoablindchannel,inthebedofthecreekwhereatimberjambarredtheway.Thewolfwhirledabout,pivotingonhishindlegsafterthefashionofJoeandofallcorneredhuskydogs,snarlingandbristling,clippinghisteethtogetherinacontinuousandrapidsuccessionofsnaps.Buckdidnot attack,but circledhimabout andhedgedhim inwith friendly

advances.Thewolfwas suspicious andafraid; forBuckmade threeofhim inweight,whilehisheadbarelyreachedBuck’sshoulder.Watchinghischance,hedartedaway,andthechasewasresumed.Timeandagainhewascornered,andthethingrepeated,thoughhewasinpoorcondition,orBuckcouldnotsoeasilyhave overtaken him. He would run till Buck’s head was even with his flank,when he would whirl around at bay, only to dash away again at the firstopportunity.ButintheendBuck’spertinacitywasrewarded;forthewolf,findingthatno

harmwas intended, finallysniffednoseswithhim.Then theybecamefriendly,and played about in the nervous, half-coywaywithwhich fierce beasts belietheirfierceness.Aftersometimeofthisthewolfstartedoffataneasylopeinamannerthatplainlyshowedhewasgoingsomewhere.HemadeitcleartoBuckthat he was to come, and they ran side by side through the sombre twilight,straight up the creek bed, into the gorge fromwhich it issued, and across thebleakdividewhereittookitsrise.Ontheoppositeslopeof thewatershedtheycamedownintoalevelcountry

whereweregreatstretchesofforestandmanystreams,andthroughthesegreatstretches they ran steadily, hour after hour, the sun rising higher and the daygrowingwarmer.Buckwaswildlyglad.Heknewhewasat lastansweringthe

call, runningby thesideofhiswoodbrother toward theplace fromwhere thecallsurelycame.Oldmemorieswerecominguponhimfast,andhewasstirringtothemasofoldhestirredtotherealitiesofwhichtheyweretheshadows.Hehad done this thing before, somewhere in that other and dimly rememberedworld,andhewasdoing itagain,now,runningfree in theopen, theunpackedearthunderfoot,thewideskyoverhead.Theystoppedbyarunningstreamtodrink,and,stopping,Buckremembered

JohnThornton.Hesatdown.Thewolfstartedontowardtheplacefromwherethecallsurelycame,thenreturnedtohim,sniffingnosesandmakingactionsasthoughtoencouragehim.ButBuckturnedaboutandstartedslowlyonthebacktrack. For the better part of an hour thewild brother ran by his side,whiningsoftly. Then he sat down, pointed his nose upward, and howled. It was amournfulhowl,andasBuckheldsteadilyonhiswayhehearditgrowfaintandfainteruntilitwaslostinthedistance.John Thorntonwas eating dinnerwhenBuck dashed into camp and sprang

uponhiminafrenzyofaffection,overturninghim,scramblinguponhim,lickinghis face, biting his hand—“playing the general tom-fool,” as John Thorntoncharacterized it, the while he shook Buck back and forth and cursed himlovingly.FortwodaysandnightsBuckneverleftcamp,neverletThorntonoutofhis

sight.He followedhimaboutathiswork,watchedhimwhileheate, sawhimintohisblanketsatnightandoutoftheminthemorning.Butaftertwodaysthecallintheforestbegantosoundmoreimperiouslythanever.Buck’srestlessnesscamebackonhim,andhewashauntedbyrecollectionsofthewildbrother,andofthesmilinglandbeyondthedivideandtherunsidebysidethroughthewideforest stretches. Once again he took to wandering in the woods, but the wildbrothercamenomore;andthoughhelistenedthroughlongvigils,themournfulhowlwasneverraised.Hebegantosleepoutatnight,stayingawayfromcampfordaysatatime;and

oncehecrossedthedivideattheheadofthecreekandwentdownintothelandof timberandstreams.Therehewanderedforaweek,seekingvainlyforfreshsignofthewildbrother,killinghismeatashetravelledandtravellingwiththelong,easylopethatseemsnevertotire.Hefishedforsalmoninabroadstreamthatemptiedsomewhereintothesea,andbythisstreamhekilledalargeblackbear,blindedby themosquitoeswhile likewisefishing,andraging through theforesthelplessandterrible.Evenso,itwasahardfight,anditarousedthelastlatentremnantsofBuck’sferocity.Andtwodayslater,whenhereturnedtohiskillandfoundadozenwolverenesquarrellingoverthespoil,hescatteredthem

likechaff;andthosethatfledlefttwobehindwhowouldquarrelnomore.Theblood-longingbecamestrongerthaneverbefore.Hewasakiller,athing

thatpreyed,livingonthethingsthatlived,unaided,alone,byvirtueofhisownstrength and prowess, surviving triumphantly in a hostile environment whereonly the strong survived. Because of all this he became possessed of a greatpride in himself, which communicated itself like a contagion to his physicalbeing.Itadvertiseditselfinallhismovements,wasapparentintheplayofeverymuscle, spoke plainly as speech in the way he carried himself, andmade hisglorious furry coat if anythingmore glorious. But for the stray brown on hismuzzle and above his eyes, and for the splash ofwhite hair that ranmidmostdown his chest, hemightwell have beenmistaken for a giganticwolf, largerthan the largestof thebreed.FromhisSt.Bernardfatherhehad inheritedsizeandweight,butitwashisshepherdmotherwhohadgivenshapetothatsizeandweight.Hismuzzlewas the longwolfmuzzle, save that itwas larger than themuzzleof anywolf; andhishead, somewhatbroader,was thewolf headon amassivescale.Hiscunningwaswolfcunning,andwildcunning;his intelligence, shepherd

intelligenceandSt.Bernardintelligence;andallthis,plusanexperiencegainedinthefiercestofschools,madehimasformidableacreatureasanythatroamedthe wild. A carnivorous animal living on a straight meat diet, he was in fullflower, at the high tide of his life, overspilling with vigor and virility.WhenThornton passed a caressing hand along his back, a snapping and cracklingfollowed the hand, each hair discharging its pent magnetism at the contact.Every part, brain and body, nerve tissue and fibre, was keyed to the mostexquisite pitch; and between all the parts there was a perfect equilibrium oradjustment.Tosightsandsoundsandeventswhichrequiredaction,herespondedwith lightning-like rapidity.Quicklyasahuskydogcould leap todefend fromattack or to attack, he could leap twice as quickly.He saw themovement, orheardsound,and responded in less time thananotherdogrequired tocompassthemereseeingorhearing.Heperceivedanddeterminedandrespondedin thesame instant. Inpointof fact the threeactionsofperceiving,determining, andresponding were sequential; but so infinitesimal were the intervals of timebetween them that they appeared simultaneous. His muscles were surchargedwith vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel springs. Life streamedthroughhim insplendid flood,gladand rampant,until it seemed that itwouldbursthimasunderinsheerecstasyandpourforthgenerouslyovertheworld.“Neverwas there such a dog,” said JohnThornton one day, as the partners

watchedBuckmarchingoutofcamp.

“Whenhewasmade,themouldwasbroke,”saidPete.“Pyjingo!It’inksomineself,”Hansaffirmed.They saw himmarching out of camp, but they did not see the instant and

terribletransformationwhichtookplaceassoonashewaswithinthesecrecyoftheforest.Henolongermarched.Atoncehebecameathingofthewild,stealingalongsoftly,cat-footed,apassingshadowthatappearedanddisappearedamongthe shadows.He knewhow to take advantage of every cover, to crawl on hisbellylikeasnake,andlikeasnaketoleapandstrike.Hecouldtakeaptarmiganfrom its nest, kill a rabbit as it slept, and snap inmid air the little chipmunksfleeingasecondtoolateforthetrees.Fish,inopenpools,werenottooquickforhim;norwerebeaver,mendingtheirdams,toowary.Hekilledtoeat,notfromwantonness;buthepreferredtoeatwhathekilledhimself.Soalurkinghumorran through his deeds, and it was his delight to steal upon the squirrels, and,whenheallbuthadthem,toletthemgo,chatteringinmortalfeartothetreetops.As the fall of the year came on, themoose appeared in greater abundance,

movingslowlydowntomeet thewinter inthelowerandlessrigorousvalleys.Buckhadalreadydraggeddownastraypart-growncalf;buthewishedstronglyfor larger and more formidable quarry, and he came upon it one day on thedivideattheheadofthecreek.Abandoftwentymoosehadcrossedoverfromthelandofstreamsandtimber,andchiefamongthemwasagreatbull.Hewasin a savage temper, and, standing over six feet from the ground, was asformidable an antagonist as even Buck could desire. Back and forth the bulltossed his great palmated antlers, branching to fourteen points and embracingsevenfeetwithinthetips.Hissmalleyesburnedwithaviciousandbitterlight,whileheroaredwithfuryatsightofBuck.From thebull’s side, just forwardof the flank,protrudeda featheredarrow-

end,which accounted for his savageness.Guided by that instinctwhich camefrom theoldhuntingdaysof theprimordialworld,Buckproceeded to cut thebulloutfromtheherd.Itwasnoslighttask.Hewouldbarkanddanceaboutinfrontof thebull, justoutof reachof thegreatantlersandof the terrible splayhoofswhichcouldhavestampedhislifeoutwithasingleblow.Unabletoturnhis back on the fanged danger and go on, the bull would be driven intoparoxysmsof rage.At suchmomentshe chargedBuck,who retreated craftily,luringhimonbyasimulatedinabilitytoescape.Butwhenhewasthusseparatedfrom his fellows, two or three of the younger bulls would charge back uponBuckandenablethewoundedbulltorejointheherd.Thereisapatienceofthewild—dogged,tireless,persistentaslifeitself—that

holdsmotionlessforendlesshoursthespiderinitsweb,thesnakeinitscoils,the

panther in itsambuscade; thispatiencebelongspeculiarly to lifewhenithuntsits living food; and it belonged to Buck as he clung to the flank of the herd,retardingitsmarch,irritatingtheyoungbulls,worryingthecowswiththeirhalf-growncalves,anddrivingthewoundedbullmadwithhelplessrage.Forhalfadaythiscontinued.Buckmultipliedhimself,attackingfromallsides,envelopingtheherdinawhirlwindofmenace,cuttingouthisvictimasfastasitcouldrejoinitsmates,wearingout thepatienceofcreaturespreyedupon,which isa lesserpatiencethanthatofcreaturespreying.As thedayworealongand the sundropped to itsbed in thenorthwest (the

darknesshadcomebackandthefallnightsweresixhourslong),theyoungbullsretraced their stepsmore andmore reluctantly to the aid of their beset leader.The down-coming winter was harrying them on to the lower levels, and itseemed they could never shake off this tireless creature that held them back.Besides,itwasnotthelifeoftheherd,oroftheyoungbulls,thatwasthreatened.Thelifeofonlyonememberwasdemanded,whichwasaremoterinterestthantheirlives,andintheendtheywerecontenttopaythetoll.Astwilightfelltheoldbullstoodwithloweredhead,watchinghismates—the

cowshehadknown, thecalveshehadfathered, thebullshehadmastered—astheyshambledonatarapidpacethroughthefadinglight.Hecouldnotfollow,forbeforehisnoseleapedthemercilessfangedterrorthatwouldnotlethimgo.Three hundredweight more than half a ton he weighed; he had lived a long,stronglife,fulloffightandstruggle,andattheendhefaceddeathattheteethofacreaturewhoseheaddidnotreachbeyondhisgreatknuckledknees.From then on, night and day, Buck never left his prey, never gave it a

moment’srest,neverpermittedit tobrowsetheleavesoftreesortheshootsofyoungbirchandwillow.Nordidhegivethewoundedbullopportunitytoslakehis burning thirst in the slender trickling streams they crossed. Often, indesperation, he burst into long stretches of flight.At such timesBuck did notattempttostayhim,butlopedeasilyathisheels,satisfiedwiththewaythegamewasplayed,lyingdownwhenthemoosestoodstill,attackinghimfiercelywhenhestrovetoeatordrink.The great head drooped more and more under its tree of horns, and the

shamblingtrotgrewweakandweaker.Hetooktostandingforlongperiods,withnosetothegroundanddejectedearsdroppedlimply;andBuckfoundmoretimeinwhichtogetwaterforhimselfandinwhichtorest.Atsuchmoments,pantingwith red lolling tongue and with eyes fixed upon the big bull, it appeared toBuckthatachangewascomingoverthefaceofthings.Hecouldfeelanewstirin the land.As themoosewere coming into the land,otherkindsof lifewere

comingin.Forestandstreamandairseemedpalpitantwiththeirpresence.Thenewsofitwasborneinuponhim,notbysight,orsound,orsmell,butbysomeotherandsubtlersense.Heheardnothing,sawnothing,yetknewthat the landwas somehowdifferent; that through it strange thingswere afoot and ranging;andheresolvedtoinvestigateafterhehadfinishedthebusinessinhand.Atlast,attheendofthefourthday,hepulledthegreatmoosedown.Foraday

and a night he remained by the kill, eating and sleeping, turn and turn about.Then, rested, refreshed and strong, he turned his face toward camp and JohnThornton.Hebrokeintothelongeasylope,andwenton,hourafterhour,neveratlossforthetangledway,headingstraighthomethroughstrangecountrywithacertitudeofdirectionthatputmanandhismagneticneedletoshame.Asheheldonhebecamemoreandmoreconsciousofthenewstirintheland.

There was life abroad in it different from the life which had been therethroughout the summer. No longer was this fact borne in upon him in somesubtle,mysteriousway.Thebirdstalkedofit,thesquirrelschatteredaboutit,thevery breeze whispered of it. Several times he stopped and drew in the freshmorning air in great sniffs, reading amessage whichmade him leap onwithgreaterspeed.Hewasoppressedwithasenseofcalamityhappening,ifitwerenotcalamityalreadyhappened;andashecrossedthelastwatershedanddroppeddownintothevalleytowardcamp,heproceededwithgreatercaution.Threemilesawayhecameupona fresh trail thatsenthisneckhair rippling

andbristling, It ledstraight towardcampandJohnThornton.Buckhurriedon,swiftlyandstealthily,everynervestrainingandtense,alerttothemultitudinousdetails which told a story—all but the end. His nose gave him a varyingdescriptionofthepassageofthelifeontheheelsofwhichhewastravelling.Heremarked the pregnant silence of the forest. The bird life had flitted. Thesquirrelswereinhiding.Oneonlyhesaw,—asleekgrayfellow,flattenedagainstagraydeadlimbsothatheseemedapartofit,awoodyexcrescenceuponthewooditself.AsBuck slid alongwith theobscurenessof a gliding shadow,his nosewas

jerkedsuddenlytothesideasthoughapositiveforcehadgrippedandpulledit.He followed the new scent into a thicket and foundNig.Hewas lyingonhisside, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow protruding, head andfeathers,fromeithersideofhisbody.Ahundredyards fartheron,Buckcameupononeof thesled-dogsThornton

had bought in Dawson. This dog was thrashing about in a death-struggle,directly on the trail, andBuck passed around himwithout stopping. From thecamp came the faint sound of many voices, rising and falling in a sing-song

chant.Bellyingforwardtotheedgeoftheclearing,hefoundHans,lyingonhisface, featheredwith arrows like aporcupine.At the same instantBuckpeeredoutwhere the spruce-bough lodge had been and sawwhatmade his hair leapstraightuponhisneckandshoulders.Agustofoverpoweringragesweptoverhim. He did not know that he growled, but he growled aloud with a terribleferocity. For the last time in his life he allowed passion to usurp cunning andreason,and itwasbecauseofhisgreat love for JohnThornton thathe losthishead.The Yeehats were dancing about the wreckage of the spruce-bough lodge

whentheyheardafearfulroaringandsawrushinguponthemananimalthelikeof which they had never seen before. It was Buck, a live hurricane of fury,hurlinghimselfupontheminafrenzytodestroy.Hesprangattheforemostman(itwasthechiefoftheYeehats),rippingthethroatwideopentilltherentjugularspoutedafountainofblood.Hedidnotpausetoworrythevictim,butrippedinpassing,withthenextboundtearingwidethethroatofasecondman.Therewasno withstanding him. He plunged about in their very midst, tearing, rending,destroying, in constant and terrific motion which defied the arrows theydischargedathim. In fact, so inconceivablyrapidwerehismovements,andsocloselywere the Indians tangled together, that they shot one anotherwith thearrows; and one young hunter, hurling a spear at Buck in mid air, drove itthroughthechestofanotherhunterwithsuchforcethatthepointbrokethroughtheskinofthebackandstoodoutbeyond.ThenapanicseizedtheYeehats,andtheyfledinterrortothewoods,proclaimingastheyfledtheadventoftheEvilSpirit.And trulyBuckwas the Fiend incarnate, raging at their heels and dragging

themdownlikedeerastheyracedthroughthetrees.ItwasafatefuldayfortheYeehats.Theyscatteredfarandwideoverthecountry,anditwasnottillaweeklaterthatthelastofthesurvivorsgatheredtogetherinalowervalleyandcountedtheir losses.AsforBuck,wearyingof thepursuit,hereturned to thedesolatedcamp. He found Pete where he had been killed in his blankets in the firstmoment of surprise. Thornton’s desperate struggle was fresh-written on theearth,andBuckscentedeverydetailofitdowntotheedgeofadeeppool.Bytheedge,headandforefeetinthewater,laySkeet,faithfultothelast.Thepoolitself, muddy and discolored from the sluice boxes, effectually hid what itcontained,anditcontainedJohnThornton;forBuckfollowedhistraceintothewater,fromwhichnotraceledaway.AlldayBuckbroodedbythepoolorroamedrestlesslyaboutthecamp.Death,

as a cessation ofmovement, as a passing out and away from the lives of the

living,heknew,andheknewJohnThorntonwasdead.Itleftagreatvoidinhim,somewhat akin to hunger, but a voidwhich ached and ached, andwhich foodcould not fill, At times, when he paused to contemplate the carcasses of theYeehats,heforgotthepainofit;andatsuchtimeshewasawareofagreatprideinhimself,—apridegreaterthananyhehadyetexperienced.Hehadkilledman,thenoblestgameofall,andhehadkilledinthefaceofthelawofclubandfang.Hesniffedthebodiescuriously.Theyhaddiedsoeasily.Itwashardertokillahuskydogthanthem.Theywerenomatchatall,wereitnotfortheirarrowsandspearsandclubs.Thenceforwardhewouldbeunafraidofthemexceptwhentheyboreintheirhandstheirarrows,spears,andclubs.Nightcameon,andafullmoonrosehighoverthetreesintothesky,lighting

the land till it lay bathed in ghostly day. And with the coming of the night,broodingandmourningbythepool,Buckbecamealivetoastirringofthenewlife in the forest other than that which the Yeehats had made, He stood up,listeningandscenting.Fromfarawaydriftedafaint,sharpyelp,followedbyachorusofsimilarsharpyelps.Asthemomentspassedtheyelpsgrewcloserandlouder. Again Buck knew them as things heard in that other world whichpersistedinhismemory.Hewalkedtothecentreoftheopenspaceandlistened.Itwas the call, themany-noted call, soundingmore luringly and compellinglythaneverbefore.Andasneverbefore,hewasreadytoobey.JohnThorntonwasdead.Thelasttiewasbroken.Manandtheclaimsofmannolongerboundhim.Huntingtheirlivingmeat,astheYeehatswerehuntingit,ontheflanksofthe

migratingmoose,thewolfpackhadatlastcrossedoverfromthelandofstreamsand timber and invaded Buck’s valley. Into the clearing where the moonlightstreamed,theypouredinasilveryflood;andinthecentreoftheclearingstoodBuck,motionlessasastatue,waitingtheircoming.Theywereawed,sostillandlargehestood,andamoment’spausefell,tilltheboldestoneleapedstraightforhim. Like a flash Buck struck, breaking the neck. Then he stood, withoutmovement, as before, the stricken wolf rolling in agony behind him. Threeothers tried it in sharp succession; and one after the other they drew back,streamingbloodfromslashedthroatsorshoulders.This was sufficient to fling the whole pack forward, pell-mell, crowded

together, blockedand confusedby its eagerness topull down theprey.Buck’smarvellousquicknessandagilitystoodhimingoodstead.Pivotingonhishindlegs,andsnappingandgashing,hewaseverywhereatonce,presentinga frontwhichwasapparentlyunbrokensoswiftlydidhewhirlandguardfromsidetoside.But toprevent them fromgettingbehindhim,hewas forcedback,downpast the pool and into the creek bed, till he brought up against a high gravel

bank.Heworkedalongtoarightangleinthebankwhichthemenhadmadeinthecourseofmining,andinthisanglehecametobay,protectedonthreesidesandwithnothingtodobutfacethefront.And sowell didhe face it, that at the endof half anhour thewolvesdrew

back discomfited. The tongues of all were out and lolling, the white fangsshowing cruelly white in the moonlight. Some were lying down with headsraised and earspricked forward;others stoodon their feet,watchinghim; andstillotherswerelappingwaterfromthepool.Onewolf,longandleanandgray,advancedcautiously,inafriendlymanner,andBuckrecognizedthewildbrotherwithwhom he had run for a night and a day.Hewaswhining softly, and, asBuckwhined,theytouchednoses.Thenanoldwolf,gauntandbattle-scarred,cameforward.Buckwrithedhis

lipsintothepreliminaryofasnarl,butsniffednoseswithhim,Whereupontheoldwolfsatdown,pointednoseatthemoon,andbrokeoutthelongwolfhowl.The others sat down and howled. And now the call came to Buck inunmistakableaccents.He,too,satdownandhowled.Thisover,hecameoutofhisangleandthepackcrowdedaroundhim,sniffinginhalf-friendly,half-savagemanner.Theleadersliftedtheyelpofthepackandsprangawayintothewoods.Thewolvesswunginbehind,yelpinginchorus.AndBuckranwiththem,sidebysidewiththewildbrother,yelpingasheran.

AndheremaywellendthestoryofBuck.TheyearswerenotmanywhentheYeehatsnotedachangeinthebreedoftimberwolves;forsomewereseenwithsplashesofbrownonheadandmuzzle,andwithariftofwhitecentringdownthechest.Butmore remarkable than this, theYeehats tellofaGhostDog thatruns at the head of the pack. They are afraid of this Ghost Dog, for it hascunninggreater than they, stealing from their camps in fiercewinters, robbingtheirtraps,slayingtheirdogs,anddefyingtheirbravesthunters.Nay, the talegrowsworse.Hunters therearewhofail toreturn to thecamp,

and hunters there have beenwhom their tribesmen foundwith throats slashedcruellyopenandwithwolfprintsabouttheminthesnowgreaterthantheprintsof anywolf. Each fall,when theYeehats follow themovement of themoose,there is a certain valley which they never enter. And women there are whobecome sadwhen theword goes over the fire of how theEvil Spirit came toselectthatvalleyforanabiding-place.

In the summers there is one visitor, however, to that valley, of which theYeehatsdonotknow.Itisagreat,gloriouslycoatedwolf,like,andyetunlike,allotherwolves.Hecrosses alone from the smiling timber landandcomesdowninto an open space among the trees. Here a yellow stream flows from rottedmoose-hidesacksandsinksintotheground,withlonggrassesgrowingthroughit andvegetablemouldoverrunning it andhiding itsyellow from the sun;andherehemusesforatime,howlingonce,longandmournfully,erehedeparts.But he is not always alone.When the longwinter nights come on and the

wolvesfollowtheirmeatintothelowervalleys,hemaybeseenrunningatthehead of the pack through the pale moonlight or glimmering borealis, leapinggigantic above his fellows, his great throat a-bellow as he sings a songof theyoungerworld,whichisthesongofthepack.

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