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bags, 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 like dreams as they heaped the treasure up.
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There was nothing for the dogs to do, save the hauling in of meat now and
again that Thornton killed, and Buck spent long hours musing by the fire. The
vision of the short-legged hairy man came to him more frequently, now that
there was little work to be done; and often, blinking by the fire, Buck
wandered with him in that other world which he remembered.
The salient thing of this other world seemed fear. When he watched the hairy
man sleeping by the fire, head between his knees and hands clasped above, Buck
saw that he slept restlessly, with many starts and awakenings, at which times
he would peer fearfully into the darkness and fling more wood upon the fire.
Did they walk by the beach of a sea, where the hairy man gathered shell-fish
and ate them as he gathered, it was with eyes that roved everywhere for hidden
danger and with legs prepared to run like the wind at its first appearance.
Through the forest they crept noiselessly, Buck at the hairy man's heels; and
they were alert and vigilant, the pair of them, ears twitching and moving and
nostrils quivering, for the man heard and smelled as keenly as Buck. The hairy
man could spring up into the trees and travel ahead as fast as on the ground,
swinging by the arms from limb to limb, sometimes a dozen feet apart, letting
go and catching, never falling, never missing his grip. In fact, he seemed as
much at home among the trees as on the ground; and Buck had memories of nights
of vigil spent beneath trees wherein the hairy man roosted, holding on tightly
as he slept.
And closely akin to the visions of the hairy man was the call still sounding
in the depths of the forest. It filled him with a great unrest and strange
desires. It caused him to feel a vague, sweet gladness, and he was aware of
wild yearnings and stirring for he knew not what. Sometimes he pursued the
call into the forest, looking for it as though it were a tangible thing,
barking softly or defiantly, as the mood might dictate. He would thrust his
nose into the cool wood moss, or into the black soil where long grasses grew,
and snort joy at the fat earth smells; or he would crouch for hours, as if in
concealment, behind fungus-covered trunks of fallen trees, wide-eyed and
wide-eared to all that moved and sounded about him. It might be, lying thus,
that he hoped to surprise this call he could not understand. But he did not
know why he did these various things. He was impelled to do them, and did not
reason about them at all.
Irresistible impulses seized him. He would be lying in camp, dozing lazily in
the heat of the day, when suddenly his head would lift and his ears cock up,
intent and listening, and he would spring to his feet and dash away, and on
and on, for hours, through the forest aisles and across the open spaces where
the niggerheads bunched. He loved to run down dry water-courses, and to creep
and spy upon the bird life in the woods. For a day at a time he would lie in
the underbrush where he could watch the partridges drumming and strutting up
and down. But especially he loved to run in the dim twilight of the summer
midnights, listening to the subdued and sleepy murmurs of the forest, reading
signs and sounds as man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterious
something that called called, waking or sleeping, at all times, for him to
come.
One night he sprang from sleep with a start, eager-eyed, nostrils quivering
and scenting, his mane bristling in recurrent waves. From the forest came the
call (or one note of it, for the call was many noted), distinct and definite
as never before, a long-drawn howl, like, yet unlike, any noise made by husky
dog. And he knew it, in the old familiar way, as a sound heard before. He
sprang through the sleeping camp and in swift silence dashed through the
woods. As he drew closer to the cry he went more slowly, with caution in every
movement, till he came to an open place among the trees, and looking out saw,
erect on haunches, with nose pointed to the sky, a long, lean, timber wolf.
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He had made no noise, yet it ceased from its howling and tried to sense his
presence. Buck stalked into the open, half crouching, body gathered compactly
together, tail straight and stiff, feet falling with unwonted care. Every
movement advertised commingled threatening and overture of friendliness. It
was the menacing truce that marks the meeting of wild beasts that prey. But
the wolf fled at sight of him. He followed, with wild leapings, in a frenzy to
overtake. He ran him into a blind channel, in the bed of the creek, where a
timber jam barred the way. The wolf whirled about, pivoting on his hind legs
after the fashion of Joe and of all cornered husky dogs, snarling and
bristling, clipping his teeth together in a continuous and rapid succession of
snaps.
Buck did not attack, but circled him about and hedged him in with friendly
advances. The wolf was suspicious and afraid; for Buck made three of him in
weight, while his head barely reached Buck's shoulder. Watching his chance, he
darted away, and the chase resumed. Time and again he was cornered, and the
thing repeated, though he was in poor condition, or Buck could not so easily
have 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 first
opportunity.
But in the end Buck's pertinacity was rewarded; for the wolf, finding that no
harm was intended, finally sniffed noses with him. Then they became friendly,
and played about in the nervous, half-coy way with which fierce beasts belie
their fierceness. After some time of this the wolf started off at an easy lope
in a manner that plainly showed he was going somewhere. He made it clear to
Buck that he was to come, and they ran side by side through the sombre
twilight, straight up the creek bed, into the gorge from which it issued, and
across the bleak divide where it took its rise.
On the opposite slope of the watershed they came down into a level country
where were great stretches of forest and many streams, and through these great
stretches they ran steadily, hour after hour, the sun rising higher and the
day growing warmer. Buck was wildly glad. He knew he was at last answering the
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