White Fang Page 3

  CHAPTER III--THE HUNGER CRY

  The day began auspiciously. They had lost no dogs during the night, andthey swung out upon the trail and into the silence, the darkness, and thecold with spirits that were fairly light. Bill seemed to have forgottenhis forebodings of the previous night, and even waxed facetious with thedogs when, at midday, they overturned the sled on a bad piece of trail.

  It was an awkward mix-up. The sled was upside down and jammed between atree-trunk and a huge rock, and they were forced to unharness the dogs inorder to straighten out the tangle. The two men were bent over the sledand trying to right it, when Henry observed One Ear sidling away.

  "Here, you, One Ear!" he cried, straightening up and turning around onthe dog.

  But One Ear broke into a run across the snow, his traces trailing behindhim. And there, out in the snow of their back track, was the she-wolfwaiting for him. As he neared her, he became suddenly cautious. Heslowed down to an alert and mincing walk and then stopped. He regardedher carefully and dubiously, yet desirefully. She seemed to smile athim, showing her teeth in an ingratiating rather than a menacing way. Shemoved toward him a few steps, playfully, and then halted. One Ear drewnear to her, still alert and cautious, his tail and ears in the air, hishead held high.

  He tried to sniff noses with her, but she retreated playfully and coyly.Every advance on his part was accompanied by a corresponding retreat onher part. Step by step she was luring him away from the security of hishuman companionship. Once, as though a warning had in vague ways flittedthrough his intelligence, he turned his head and looked back at theoverturned sled, at his team-mates, and at the two men who were callingto him.

  But whatever idea was forming in his mind, was dissipated by theshe-wolf, who advanced upon him, sniffed noses with him for a fleetinginstant, and then resumed her coy retreat before his renewed advances.

  In the meantime, Bill had bethought himself of the rifle. But it wasjammed beneath the overturned sled, and by the time Henry had helped himto right the load, One Ear and the she-wolf were too close together andthe distance too great to risk a shot.

  Too late One Ear learned his mistake. Before they saw the cause, the twomen saw him turn and start to run back toward them. Then, approaching atright angles to the trail and cutting off his retreat they saw a dozenwolves, lean and grey, bounding across the snow. On the instant, the she-wolf's coyness and playfulness disappeared. With a snarl she sprang uponOne Ear. He thrust her off with his shoulder, and, his retreat cut offand still intent on regaining the sled, he altered his course in anattempt to circle around to it. More wolves were appearing every momentand joining in the chase. The she-wolf was one leap behind One Ear andholding her own.

  "Where are you goin'?" Henry suddenly demanded, laying his hand on hispartner's arm.

  Bill shook it off. "I won't stand it," he said. "They ain't a-goin' toget any more of our dogs if I can help it."

  Gun in hand, he plunged into the underbrush that lined the side of thetrail. His intention was apparent enough. Taking the sled as the centreof the circle that One Ear was making, Bill planned to tap that circle ata point in advance of the pursuit. With his rifle, in the broaddaylight, it might be possible for him to awe the wolves and save thedog.

  "Say, Bill!" Henry called after him. "Be careful! Don't take nochances!"

  Henry sat down on the sled and watched. There was nothing else for himto do. Bill had already gone from sight; but now and again, appearingand disappearing amongst the underbrush and the scattered clumps ofspruce, could be seen One Ear. Henry judged his case to be hopeless. Thedog was thoroughly alive to its danger, but it was running on the outercircle while the wolf-pack was running on the inner and shorter circle.It was vain to think of One Ear so outdistancing his pursuers as to beable to cut across their circle in advance of them and to regain thesled.

  The different lines were rapidly approaching a point. Somewhere outthere in the snow, screened from his sight by trees and thickets, Henryknew that the wolf-pack, One Ear, and Bill were coming together. All tooquickly, far more quickly than he had expected, it happened. He heard ashot, then two shots, in rapid succession, and he knew that Bill'sammunition was gone. Then he heard a great outcry of snarls and yelps.He recognised One Ear's yell of pain and terror, and he heard a wolf-crythat bespoke a stricken animal. And that was all. The snarls ceased.The yelping died away. Silence settled down again over the lonely land.

  He sat for a long while upon the sled. There was no need for him to goand see what had happened. He knew it as though it had taken placebefore his eyes. Once, he roused with a start and hastily got the axeout from underneath the lashings. But for some time longer he sat andbrooded, the two remaining dogs crouching and trembling at his feet.

  At last he arose in a weary manner, as though all the resilience had goneout of his body, and proceeded to fasten the dogs to the sled. He passeda rope over his shoulder, a man-trace, and pulled with the dogs. He didnot go far. At the first hint of darkness he hastened to make a camp,and he saw to it that he had a generous supply of firewood. He fed thedogs, cooked and ate his supper, and made his bed close to the fire.

  But he was not destined to enjoy that bed. Before his eyes closed thewolves had drawn too near for safety. It no longer required an effort ofthe vision to see them. They were all about him and the fire, in anarrow circle, and he could see them plainly in the firelight lying down,sitting up, crawling forward on their bellies, or slinking back andforth. They even slept. Here and there he could see one curled up inthe snow like a dog, taking the sleep that was now denied himself.

  He kept the fire brightly blazing, for he knew that it alone intervenedbetween the flesh of his body and their hungry fangs. His two dogsstayed close by him, one on either side, leaning against him forprotection, crying and whimpering, and at times snarling desperately whena wolf approached a little closer than usual. At such moments, when hisdogs snarled, the whole circle would be agitated, the wolves coming totheir feet and pressing tentatively forward, a chorus of snarls and eageryelps rising about him. Then the circle would lie down again, and hereand there a wolf would resume its broken nap.

  But this circle had a continuous tendency to draw in upon him. Bit bybit, an inch at a time, with here a wolf bellying forward, and there awolf bellying forward, the circle would narrow until the brutes werealmost within springing distance. Then he would seize brands from thefire and hurl them into the pack. A hasty drawing back always resulted,accompanied by angry yelps and frightened snarls when a well-aimed brandstruck and scorched a too daring animal.

  Morning found the man haggard and worn, wide-eyed from want of sleep. Hecooked breakfast in the darkness, and at nine o'clock, when, with thecoming of daylight, the wolf-pack drew back, he set about the task he hadplanned through the long hours of the night. Chopping down youngsaplings, he made them cross-bars of a scaffold by lashing them high upto the trunks of standing trees. Using the sled-lashing for a heavingrope, and with the aid of the dogs, he hoisted the coffin to the top ofthe scaffold.

  "They got Bill, an' they may get me, but they'll sure never get you,young man," he said, addressing the dead body in its tree-sepulchre.

  Then he took the trail, the lightened sled bounding along behind thewilling dogs; for they, too, knew that safety lay open in the gaining ofFort McGurry. The wolves were now more open in their pursuit, trottingsedately behind and ranging along on either side, their red tongueslolling out, their lean sides showing the undulating ribs with everymovement. They were very lean, mere skin-bags stretched over bonyframes, with strings for muscles--so lean that Henry found it in his mindto marvel that they still kept their feet and did not collapse forthrightin the snow.

  He did not dare travel until dark. At midday, not only did the sun warmthe southern horizon, but it even thrust its upper rim, pale and golden,above the sky-line. He received it as a sign. The days were growinglonger. The sun was returning. But scarcely had the cheer of it
s lightdeparted, than he went into camp. There were still several hours of greydaylight and sombre twilight, and he utilised them in chopping anenormous supply of fire-wood.

  With night came horror. Not only were the starving wolves growingbolder, but lack of sleep was telling upon Henry. He dozed despitehimself, crouching by the fire, the blankets about his shoulders, the axebetween his knees, and on either side a dog pressing close against him.He awoke once and saw in front of him, not a dozen feet away, a big greywolf, one of the largest of the pack. And even as he looked, the brutedeliberately stretched himself after the manner of a lazy dog, yawningfull in his face and looking upon him with a possessive eye, as if, intruth, he were merely a delayed meal that was soon to be eaten.

  This certitude was shown by the whole pack. Fully a score he couldcount, staring hungrily at him or calmly sleeping in the snow. Theyreminded him of children gathered about a spread table and awaitingpermission to begin to eat. And he was the food they were to eat! Hewondered how and when the meal would begin.

  As he piled wood on the fire he discovered an appreciation of his ownbody which he had never felt before. He watched his moving muscles andwas interested in the cunning mechanism of his fingers. By the light ofthe fire he crooked his fingers slowly and repeatedly now one at a time,now all together, spreading them wide or making quick gripping movements.He studied the nail-formation, and prodded the finger-tips, now sharply,and again softly, gauging the while the nerve-sensations produced. Itfascinated him, and he grew suddenly fond of this subtle flesh of histhat worked so beautifully and smoothly and delicately. Then he wouldcast a glance of fear at the wolf-circle drawn expectantly about him, andlike a blow the realisation would strike him that this wonderful body ofhis, this living flesh, was no more than so much meat, a quest ofravenous animals, to be torn and slashed by their hungry fangs, to besustenance to them as the moose and the rabbit had often been sustenanceto him.

  He came out of a doze that was half nightmare, to see the red-hued she-wolf before him. She was not more than half a dozen feet away sitting inthe snow and wistfully regarding him. The two dogs were whimpering andsnarling at his feet, but she took no notice of them. She was looking atthe man, and for some time he returned her look. There was nothingthreatening about her. She looked at him merely with a greatwistfulness, but he knew it to be the wistfulness of an equally greathunger. He was the food, and the sight of him excited in her thegustatory sensations. Her mouth opened, the saliva drooled forth, andshe licked her chops with the pleasure of anticipation.

  A spasm of fear went through him. He reached hastily for a brand tothrow at her. But even as he reached, and before his fingers had closedon the missile, she sprang back into safety; and he knew that she wasused to having things thrown at her. She had snarled as she sprang away,baring her white fangs to their roots, all her wistfulness vanishing,being replaced by a carnivorous malignity that made him shudder. Heglanced at the hand that held the brand, noticing the cunning delicacy ofthe fingers that gripped it, how they adjusted themselves to all theinequalities of the surface, curling over and under and about the roughwood, and one little finger, too close to the burning portion of thebrand, sensitively and automatically writhing back from the hurtful heatto a cooler gripping-place; and in the same instant he seemed to see avision of those same sensitive and delicate fingers being crushed andtorn by the white teeth of the she-wolf. Never had he been so fond ofthis body of his as now when his tenure of it was so precarious.

  All night, with burning brands, he fought off the hungry pack. When hedozed despite himself, the whimpering and snarling of the dogs arousedhim. Morning came, but for the first time the light of day failed toscatter the wolves. The man waited in vain for them to go. Theyremained in a circle about him and his fire, displaying an arrogance ofpossession that shook his courage born of the morning light.

  He made one desperate attempt to pull out on the trail. But the momenthe left the protection of the fire, the boldest wolf leaped for him, butleaped short. He saved himself by springing back, the jaws snappingtogether a scant six inches from his thigh. The rest of the pack was nowup and surging upon him, and a throwing of firebrands right and left wasnecessary to drive them back to a respectful distance.

  Even in the daylight he did not dare leave the fire to chop fresh wood.Twenty feet away towered a huge dead spruce. He spent half the dayextending his campfire to the tree, at any moment a half dozen burningfaggots ready at hand to fling at his enemies. Once at the tree, hestudied the surrounding forest in order to fell the tree in the directionof the most firewood.

  The night was a repetition of the night before, save that the need forsleep was becoming overpowering. The snarling of his dogs was losing itsefficacy. Besides, they were snarling all the time, and his benumbed anddrowsy senses no longer took note of changing pitch and intensity. Heawoke with a start. The she-wolf was less than a yard from him.Mechanically, at short range, without letting go of it, he thrust a brandfull into her open and snarling mouth. She sprang away, yelling withpain, and while he took delight in the smell of burning flesh and hair,he watched her shaking her head and growling wrathfully a score of feetaway.

  But this time, before he dozed again, he tied a burning pine-knot to hisright hand. His eyes were closed but few minutes when the burn of theflame on his flesh awakened him. For several hours he adhered to thisprogramme. Every time he was thus awakened he drove back the wolves withflying brands, replenished the fire, and rearranged the pine-knot on hishand. All worked well, but there came a time when he fastened the pine-knot insecurely. As his eyes closed it fell away from his hand.

  He dreamed. It seemed to him that he was in Fort McGurry. It was warmand comfortable, and he was playing cribbage with the Factor. Also, itseemed to him that the fort was besieged by wolves. They were howling atthe very gates, and sometimes he and the Factor paused from the game tolisten and laugh at the futile efforts of the wolves to get in. Andthen, so strange was the dream, there was a crash. The door was burstopen. He could see the wolves flooding into the big living-room of thefort. They were leaping straight for him and the Factor. With thebursting open of the door, the noise of their howling had increasedtremendously. This howling now bothered him. His dream was merging intosomething else--he knew not what; but through it all, following him,persisted the howling.

  And then he awoke to find the howling real. There was a great snarlingand yelping. The wolves were rushing him. They were all about him andupon him. The teeth of one had closed upon his arm. Instinctively heleaped into the fire, and as he leaped, he felt the sharp slash of teeththat tore through the flesh of his leg. Then began a fire fight. Hisstout mittens temporarily protected his hands, and he scooped live coalsinto the air in all directions, until the campfire took on the semblanceof a volcano.

  But it could not last long. His face was blistering in the heat, hiseyebrows and lashes were singed off, and the heat was becoming unbearableto his feet. With a flaming brand in each hand, he sprang to the edge ofthe fire. The wolves had been driven back. On every side, wherever thelive coals had fallen, the snow was sizzling, and every little while aretiring wolf, with wild leap and snort and snarl, announced that onesuch live coal had been stepped upon.

  Flinging his brands at the nearest of his enemies, the man thrust hissmouldering mittens into the snow and stamped about to cool his feet. Histwo dogs were missing, and he well knew that they had served as a coursein the protracted meal which had begun days before with Fatty, the lastcourse of which would likely be himself in the days to follow.

  "You ain't got me yet!" he cried, savagely shaking his fist at the hungrybeasts; and at the sound of his voice the whole circle was agitated,there was a general snarl, and the she-wolf slid up close to him acrossthe snow and watched him with hungry wistfulness.

  He set to work to carry out a new idea that had come to him. He extendedthe fire into a large circle. Inside this circle he crouched, hissleeping outfit under
him as a protection against the melting snow. Whenhe had thus disappeared within his shelter of flame, the whole pack camecuriously to the rim of the fire to see what had become of him. Hithertothey had been denied access to the fire, and they now settled down in aclose-drawn circle, like so many dogs, blinking and yawning andstretching their lean bodies in the unaccustomed warmth. Then the she-wolf sat down, pointed her nose at a star, and began to howl. One by onethe wolves joined her, till the whole pack, on haunches, with nosespointed skyward, was howling its hunger cry.

  Dawn came, and daylight. The fire was burning low. The fuel had runout, and there was need to get more. The man attempted to step out ofhis circle of flame, but the wolves surged to meet him. Burning brandsmade them spring aside, but they no longer sprang back. In vain hestrove to drive them back. As he gave up and stumbled inside his circle,a wolf leaped for him, missed, and landed with all four feet in thecoals. It cried out with terror, at the same time snarling, andscrambled back to cool its paws in the snow.

  The man sat down on his blankets in a crouching position. His bodyleaned forward from the hips. His shoulders, relaxed and drooping, andhis head on his knees advertised that he had given up the struggle. Nowand again he raised his head to note the dying down of the fire. Thecircle of flame and coals was breaking into segments with openings inbetween. These openings grew in size, the segments diminished.

  "I guess you can come an' get me any time," he mumbled. "Anyway, I'mgoin' to sleep."

  Once he awakened, and in an opening in the circle, directly in front ofhim, he saw the she-wolf gazing at him.

  Again he awakened, a little later, though it seemed hours to him. Amysterious change had taken place--so mysterious a change that he wasshocked wider awake. Something had happened. He could not understand atfirst. Then he discovered it. The wolves were gone. Remained only thetrampled snow to show how closely they had pressed him. Sleep waswelling up and gripping him again, his head was sinking down upon hisknees, when he roused with a sudden start.

  There were cries of men, and churn of sleds, the creaking of harnesses,and the eager whimpering of straining dogs. Four sleds pulled in fromthe river bed to the camp among the trees. Half a dozen men were aboutthe man who crouched in the centre of the dying fire. They were shakingand prodding him into consciousness. He looked at them like a drunkenman and maundered in strange, sleepy speech.

  "Red she-wolf. . . . Come in with the dogs at feedin' time. . . . Firstshe ate the dog-food. . . . Then she ate the dogs. . . . An' after thatshe ate Bill. . . . "

  "Where's Lord Alfred?" one of the men bellowed in his ear, shaking himroughly.

  He shook his head slowly. "No, she didn't eat him. . . . He's roostin'in a tree at the last camp."

  "Dead?" the man shouted.

  "An' in a box," Henry answered. He jerked his shoulder petulantly awayfrom the grip of his questioner. "Say, you lemme alone. . . . I'm jes'plump tuckered out. . . . Goo' night, everybody."

  His eyes fluttered and went shut. His chin fell forward on his chest.And even as they eased him down upon the blankets his snores were risingon the frosty air.

  But there was another sound. Far and faint it was, in the remotedistance, the cry of the hungry wolf-pack as it took the trail of othermeat than the man it had just missed.