white fang(白牙)-第34节
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
appearance like clumped and wind…blown grain。
In short； Beauty Smith was a monstrosity； and the blame of it lay
elsewhere。 He was not responsible。 The clay of him had been so moulded
in the making。 He did the cooking for the other men in the fort； the dish…
washing and the drudgery。 They did not despise him。 Rather did they
tolerate him in a broad human way； as one tolerates any creature evilly
treated in the making。 Also； they feared him。 His cowardly rages made
them dread a shot in the back or poison in their coffee。 But somebody had
to do the cooking； and whatever else his shortcomings； Beauty Smith
could cook。
This was the man that looked at White Fang； delighted in his ferocious
prowess； and desired to possess him。 He made overtures to White Fang
123
… Page 124…
White Fang
from the first。 White Fang began by ignoring him。 Later on； when the
overtures became more insistent； White Fang bristled and bared his teeth
and backed away。 He did not like the man。 The feel of him was bad。 He
sensed the evil in him； and feared the extended hand and the attempts at
soft…spoken speech。 Because of all this； he hated the man。
With the simpler creatures； good and bad are things simply understood。
The good stands for all things that bring easement and satisfaction and
surcease from pain。 Therefore； the good is liked。 The bad stands for all
things that are fraught with discomfort； menace； and hurt； and is hated
accordingly。 White Fang's feel of Beauty Smith was bad。 From the man's
distorted body and twisted mind； in occult ways； like mists rising from
malarial marshes； came emanations of the unhealth within。 Not by
reasoning； not by the five senses alone； but by other and remoter and
uncharted senses； came the feeling to White Fang that the man was
ominous with evil； pregnant with hurtfulness； and therefore a thing bad；
and wisely to be hated。
White Fang was in Grey Beaver's camp when Beauty Smith first
visited it。 At the faint sound of his distant feet； before he came in sight；
White Fang knew who was coming and began to bristle。 He had been
lying down in an abandon of comfort； but he arose quickly； and； as the
man arrived； slid away in true wolf…fashion to the edge of the camp。 He
did not know what they said； but he could see the man and Grey Beaver
talking together。 Once； the man pointed at him； and White Fang snarled
back as though the hand were just descending upon him instead of being；
as it was； fifty feet away。 The man laughed at this； and White Fang slunk
away to the sheltering woods； his head turned to observe as he glided
softly over the ground。
Grey Beaver refused to sell the dog。 He had grown rich with his
trading and stood in need of nothing。 Besides； White Fang was a valuable
animal； the strongest sled…dog he had ever owned； and the best leader。
Furthermore； there was no dog like him on the Mackenzie nor the Yukon。
He could fight。 He killed other dogs as easily as men killed mosquitoes。
（Beauty Smith's eyes lighted up at this； and he licked his thin lips with an
eager tongue）。 No； White Fang was not for sale at any price。
124
… Page 125…
White Fang
But Beauty Smith knew the ways of Indians。 He visited Grey Beaver's
camp often； and hidden under his coat was always a black bottle or so。
One of the potencies of whisky is the breeding of thirst。 Grey Beaver got
the thirst。 His fevered membranes and burnt stomach began to clamour for
more and more of the scorching fluid； while his brain； thrust all awry by
the unwonted stimulant； permitted him to go any length to obtain it。 The
money he had received for his furs and mittens and moccasins began to go。
It went faster and faster； and the shorter his money…sack grew； the shorter
grew his temper。
In the end his money and goods and temper were all gone。 Nothing
remained to him but his thirst； a prodigious possession in itself that grew
more prodigious with every sober breath he drew。 Then it was that Beauty
Smith had talk with him again about the sale of White Fang； but this time
the price offered was in bottles； not dollars； and Grey Beaver's ears were
more eager to hear。
〃You ketch um dog you take um all right；〃 was his last word。
The bottles were delivered； but after two days。 〃You ketch um dog；〃
were Beauty Smith's words to Grey Beaver。
White Fang slunk into camp one evening and dropped down with a
sigh of content。 The dreaded white god was not there。 For days his
manifestations of desire to lay hands on him had been growing more
insistent； and during that time White Fang had been compelled to avoid
the camp。 He did not know what evil was threatened by those insistent
hands。 He knew only that they did threaten evil of some sort； and that it
was best for him to keep out of their reach。
But scarcely had he lain down when Grey Beaver staggered over to
him and tied a leather thong around his neck。 He sat down beside White
Fang； holding the end of the thong in his hand。 In the other hand he held a
bottle； which； from time to time； was inverted above his head to the
accompaniment of gurgling noises。
An hour of this passed； when the vibrations of feet in contact with the
ground foreran the one who approached。 White Fang heard it first； and he
was bristling with recognition while Grey Beaver still nodded stupidly。
White Fang tried to draw the thong softly out of his master's hand； but the
125
… Page 126…
White Fang
relaxed fingers closed tightly and Grey Beaver roused himself。
Beauty Smith strode into camp and stood over White Fang。 He snarled
softly up at the thing of fear； watching keenly the deportment of the hands。
One hand extended outward and began to descend upon his head。 His soft
snarl grew tense and harsh。 The hand continued slowly to descend； while
he crouched beneath it； eyeing it malignantly； his snarl growing shorter
and shorter as； with quickening breath； it approached its culmination。
Suddenly he snapped； striking with his fangs like a snake。 The hand was
jerked back； and the teeth came together emptily with a sharp click。
Beauty Smith was frightened and angry。 Grey Beaver clouted White Fang
alongside the head； so that he cowered down close to the earth in
respectful obedience。
White Fang's suspicious eyes followed every movement。 He saw
Beauty Smith go away and return with a stout club。 Then the end of the
thong was given over to him by Grey Beaver。 Beauty Smith started to
walk away。 The thong grew taut。 White Fang resisted it。 Grey Beaver
clouted him right and left to make him get up and follow。 He obeyed； but
with a rush； hurling himself upon the stranger who was dragging him
away。 Beauty Smith did not jump away。 He had been waiting for this。 He
swung the club smartly； stopping the rush midway and smashing White
Fang down upon the ground。 Grey Beaver laughed and nodded approval。
Beauty Smith tightened the thong again； and White Fang crawled limply
and dizzily to his feet。
He did not rush a second time。 One smash from the club was sufficient
to convince him that the white god knew how to handle it； and he was too
wise to fight the inevitable。 So he followed morosely at Beauty Smith's
heels； his tail between his legs； yet snarling softly under his breath。 But
Beauty Smith kept a wary eye on him； and the club was held always ready
to strike。
At the fort Beauty Smith left him securely tied and went in to bed。
White Fang waited an hour。 Then he applied his teeth to the thong； and in
the space of ten seconds was free。 He had wasted no time with his teeth。
There had been no useles
