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    The Call of the Wild
    The Call of the Wild
    The Call of the Wild
    Ebook176 pages2 hours

    The Call of the Wild

    By Jack London

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    HarperCollins is proud to present its new range of best-loved, essential classics.

    ‘Deep in the forest a call was sounding, and . . . he felt compelled to turn his back upon the fire, and to plunge into the forest.’

    Half St. Bernard, half sheepdog, Buck is stolen away from his comfortable life as a pet in California and sold to dog traders. He soon finds himself aboard a ship, on its way to Northern Canada. Surrounded by cruelty, Buck’s natural instincts and behaviour begin to emerge as he works as a mail carrying sled dog, scavenging for food, protecting himself against other dogs and sleeping out in the cold snow.

    Sold to a group of American gold hunters who are inexperienced living in the wilderness, the dogs are treated badly and as misfortune besets them, Buck is saved by John Thornton. Indebted to his new master, Buck remains by Thornton’s side, saving him from drowning and protecting him with fierce loyalty throughout their time together. However, Buck can not deny the strong lure of the wilderness around him.

    Exciting and action-packed, Call of the Wild explores the timeless relationship between man and dog, and the inevitable draw of primitive instincts that pull Buck away from civilization and humanity towards the lawless and harsh wilderness.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins UK
    Release dateMay 31, 2012
    ISBN9780007480708
    Author

    Jack London

    Jack London was born in San Francisco in 1876, and was a prolific and successful writer until his death in 1916. During his lifetime he wrote novels, short stories and essays, and is best known for ‘The Call of the Wild’ and ‘White Fang’.

    Read more from Jack London

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    Reviews for The Call of the Wild

    4/5

    3,640 ratings114 reviews

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    • 3/5
      When I initially read this American classic, I was in either elementary or high school. It had all the elements to entice a young boy. It is an adventure which occurs during the Yukon gold rush. The story's protagonist is Buck, an 140 lb St. Bernard and Scotch Collie mix, who is abducted from an easy life as the pet in St. Clara, California, and sold to dog traders who eventually sells him to mail couriers as a sled dog in the Yukon Territory. Buck will need to tap in to his more primeval instincts if he is to survive the harsh northern conditions. The third reason I chose this book is that it was short at less than 100 pages. I had recently read Moby Dick and I needed a break!It has been good revisiting some of the classics I read as a youth. They become more enjoyable when you understand better literary themes and metaphors.
    • 2/5
      Believe it or not, I've never read The Call of the Wild (1903) by Jack London, which one would think is a requirement of being a kid in America. And I still haven't read it, although on a whim I listened to my library's audiobook copy, albeit not very carefully. Narrated in an appropriately macho fashion by Frank Muller, The Call of the Wild tells the story of Buck a farm dog who is kidnapped from Northern California and forced to pull sleds for for miners in the Yukon gold rush. A cushy pet learns to fight for food and compete for leadership of the pack through fighting and violence, and eventually becomes alpha dog in a wild wolf pack after his owner dies.Yes friends, before I read this book I knew it had something to do with Alaska and dogs, but I had no idea that the entire book is about a dog from a dog's point of view. Granted, the book is very symbolic in that we humans sit very tenuously on the edge of civilization and brutality and savageness (and London wrote this before the World Wars, the Holocaust, and all the horrors of the 20th century that tested humanity). Still, as a book about dogs it's a very good and accurate look at what may be going on in a dog's mind.
    • 5/5
      Great book. Everyone should read it.
    • 1/5
      Maybe it's because I'm not a dog, but I just don't find it interesting being in the mind of Buck. I was very excited to read this because so many people raved about it, but it just didn't hold my interest even as a child.
    • 5/5
      It's pretty hard to find fault with this story or the way it's told. It was particularly engaging to read while my family is in the process of rehabilitating a very fearful rescue dog. Jack London is among the go-to authors for perspective on how we think when you pare away frivolous comforts - and that's exemplified in CotW.
    • 4/5
      Synopsis.......The story takes place in the extreme conditions of the Yukon during the 19th-century Klondike Gold Rush, where strong sled dogs were in high demand. After Buck, a domesticated dog, is snatched from a pastoral ranch in California, he is sold into a brutal life as a sled dog. The novella details Buck's struggle to adjust and survive the cruel treatment he receives from humans, other dogs, and nature. He eventually sheds the veneer of civilization altogether and instead relies on primordial instincts and the lessons he has learned to become a respected and feared leader in the wild.Published back in 1903 after the author had spent sometime in the aforementioned Yukon.I was looking for something a little bit different and quick to read after getting bogged down by another book which I wasn't enjoying. I had previously heard of this book, hasn't everyone(?) but can't recall reading it ever during my near half-century of years, not even in the dim and distant days of school. Glad I made the effort though.Gripping, exciting, moving.......a testament of an indomitable spirit, bravery, determination, loyalty, fearlessness, and probably another dozen or so admirable attributes. Sad in places, but ultimately an uplifting and rewarding read.I wouldn't put it past me finding more from London in the future.4 from 5Down-loaded free from the internet.
    • 4/5
      I read this book a few pages at a time (distracted by Facebook, Instagram & Twitter - the usual suspects). When I finally finished it I felt I had read a wonderful, though quite violent, story. Yes, despite flaws, a great tale.
    • 4/5
      Trust, betrayal, loyalty and animal cruelty. A heart wrenching story about the life of dogs during the gold rush from an animal POV. I am not always a fan of such an approach but it worked well here. Highly engaging (worked well for an audiobook) but not black and white, as I could relate even to the most "evil" characters. I guess that's why it's a "classic" (mental note: "Read more classics"=).
    • 4/5
      Great book!
    • 1/5
      Horrid book.
    • 3/5
      It's hard to believe, that with 82 years of reading all sorts of books, this the first American Classic from an American Classic author that I''ve read. I'll try more of the classics but this work is no where near the top of my list of books. Yes, it is quite an adventure for this dog and he certainly had very many experiences but I can't get to the level of classical literature.
    • 5/5
      Both of these tales (White Fang & Call of the Wild), one of a civilized dog who embraces the wild after he is stolen and one of a wild dog tamed by the love of a man...are both masterpieces that embrace the animal and flawed humanity in man and the the beasts that show us so and brave so much. Both are raw, emotional tales told in sparse, beautiful language that gnaw at you long after you put them down. First read at age 12, and enjoyed again as much at 41.
    • 3/5
      The story is written from the perspective of Buck, the dog. He is large, he is faithful and pragmatic, and he is kidnapped by a worker on the ranch he lives on, and sold to a trader who sends him north to run with a team dragging sleds. Poor Buck is mistreated, and faces a hard run. It is not just humans who are cruel to him, other dogs resent his size and presence, and battles for position as alpha male take place. The dog team are run to the ground, and Bucks saving grace is his size, strength and stamina. He is passed to and from inept and cruel owners until he finally meets an owner he can trust and bond with.It's a nice, if somewhat violent, story. Nothing too deep, but a read that carries you along.
    • 4/5
      The Call of the Wild by Jack London is a book I have long wanted to read, somehow missing this classic as a younger reader. Now that I have read it, I am glad that this was missed in my younger days as I don’t know if I would have been able to handle the animal cruelty that plays such a large part of this story. Maybe we were tougher years ago as many of the great animal classic stories like this one, Black Beauty and Beautiful Joe have many scenes that today would not be accepted in a children’s story.The story of Buck, being snatched from his easy life in California and being taken to work in the gold fields, shows him to be a special dog, dominant and intelligent, and, after finding out how cruel man can be, he learns to read both people and the situations that arise in his life. The story follows Buck as he is passed through various owners, some cruel, some indifferent and one that Buck learns to love. All the while, deep inside Buck comes a call, a desire to run free in the wilderness.At my much advanced age, I can now appreciate Jack London’s writing, especially when describing the Alaskan wilderness. The story is fast paced with excellent action sequences and overall I would class this a great read, if, and it’s a big if, you can face the brutality of what Buck goes through. The themes of like natured beasts calling out to each other, and the luring back to the primordial life that exists deep in memory are a little dated but overall this is a compelling read. London uses language like a poet, simple, at times savage but always rich in imagery.
    • 4/5
      I enjoyed this story. The writing was clever and well-crafted, the dog's story was interesting, and the themes of the power of instinct and love - in nature and in between a human and an animal - this was all well-done. It was a very different book from what I usually read. The voices and the characters are all male; the story seems to be targeted at young men or boys. It certainly wasn't a favourite. Even so, it is hard to deny that this is a classic, and I am glad I took the time to read it.
    • 4/5
      A terrific dog story, though hard to read at times because of all that Buck endures. I read it in the Library of America edition. Had never read it as a child as far as I recall; I note that some film versions are geared towards children and I can only assume (hope?) they have been bowdlerized; I wouldn't recommend this for children under 10 or 11 no matter their reading level.
    • 4/5
      Very enjoyable. I felt like Buck's dreaming of prehistoric man was unnecessary and I think it would have been better without that.
    • 4/5
      Another one of those books that seems to have gotten past me in my school days, I just recently read The Call of the Wild for the first time. Like many of these books that I'm discovering pretty much everyone else has read except me, I think I'm glad that I came at them as an adult, as I don't think I would have revisited them had I read them earlier, and I don't think I would have taken away as much when I was younger. Jack London's story about Buck, a St. Bernard-Scotch Shepherd who is kidnapped from his idyllic southern California home to be a sled dog in the 1890s Klondike Gold Rush is a powerful tale. We follow Buck's journey as he discovers that not all men are kind like his previous owners, learns to navigate the ins and outs of the sled dog's pack pecking order, and finally as he discovers the primal nature of his being as he eventually starts to venture out into the wilderness on his own. The imagery that London uses in describing Buck's discovery of that primal nature is remarkable; I think of anything else in the book, I enjoyed these sequences best.
    • 4/5
      It's great juvenile literature, however, adults could also enjoy it for its so many fine qualities. Dog lovers and nature lovers in general will share more than one state of mind with Buck and the general description of the wilderness. Highly recommended.
    • 3/5
      3.5 stars.This is the story of Buck, a dog who lives with a family, but is then taken and sold and trained to work alongside sled-dogs in the Yukon during the gold rush. Buck is sold a few times to masters who all treat him differently, some kindly, some not-so-kindly. The story is told from Buck’s point of view. The edition I read has a foreword by Jean Craighead George, who wrote the Julie of the Wolves trilogy. There is an “About the author” at the end as well. It took me a little bit to get into the book, but once I did I quite enjoyed it. I like reading the dog’s perspective. The information about Jack London I also enjoyed – it seems he had an interesting life.
    • 5/5
      I wan't sure I was going to like a book like this but ended up reading it in one day. I'm still amazed how he wrote this incredible yet credible story which felt pretty much from the dog's POV and yet, not. The omniscient. I learned quite a bit from this story about mushing, the dogs, Alaska, and the period. Society conveniently forgets that our dogs descended from wolves and even though Buck was violently deprived of his posh former life, his regression to the wild was spiritually liberating. It was a gruesome story and I hate suffering in animals but I still appreciated it for the brilliant writing and look forward to more of London's writing.
    • 2/5
      being a cat person it might have been a mistake to read a book about a dog. the dog was terrorized by a man in a red sweater? i thought dogs cannot see red. and do dogs really think so much? and fight ti dead to lead a sledge? not sure why this is a classic.
    • 5/5
      One of those classics that's definitely no chore, and one assessable even when I read it as a child. I'm not about to forget Buck, a dog who hears the call of the wild. And as is the case with a friend who also loves this book, the sledge hauling contest is indelibly impressed into my mind. How many books can you say leave that kind of impression decades later? One of those stories that can make an animal protagonist come alive. (And the same can be said for London's other novel with a dog protagonist--White Fang).
    • 5/5
      This is a timeless classic that should be a must read for everyone. It's on the list of books my children will read and one of those I make sure the local library has a good copy of. The author knows what he's writing about and it shows as you read through a touching story about a dog growing up and the troubles he endures.
    • 4/5
      I followed up my recent reading of 'White Fang' with rereading of this earlier Jack London novel, and they made an interesting comparison. There was something slightly more anthropomorphic about 'Call of the Wild' and certainly more emphasis on the bond between Buck and his various human owners (especially his last owner John Thornton). The climax of this novel, where Buck finally answers the 'call' and joins the wild wolves, anticipates the 'White Fang' story which is darker and closer to nature. I would say that the writing is richer and more mature in 'White Fang' but some of the set-piece incidents here - such as Thornton's wager that Buck could singlehandedly break out a thousand pound sled load and pull it one hundred yards - are as exciting as I remember them as a boy reader.
    • 4/5
      The Call of the WildYamamoto, MitsuAR Quiz # 30529 EN FICTIONIL: MG - BL: 5.5 AR Points 2.0AR Quiz Types RP, VPThoroughly enjoyed this retelling of the classic Jack London novel about Buck, part St. Bernard, part wolf and part super hero. I give it 4 stars and would recommend this book to all students and adults alike.I thought the graphics on each page were well done and helped readers visualize the rugged and difficult life Buck is thrown into without warning. He is abducted from a world of comfort on Judge Miller's farm, to a world where his survival depends on his instincts, guile and ability to adapt quickly to his changing circumstances.Fascinating that Mr. London could have written this novel in the early 1900's and the novel remains so timeless. I would hope that students today can still relate to such a beloved dog and the people and animals he meets along his journey to finding his true nature. It was fun to reread this inspirational story once again.I love the way good and evil are portrayed through both men and animals. I particularly liked watching Buck overcome these evils through both patience and his persistence until ultimately becoming a leader among the sled dogs.When Buck is befriended by John Thornton, we get lulled into a false sense of security thinking Buck will now be forever protected by this great man. But the greatest test of Buck's life is yet to come, and in the final climactic chapters, Bucks true superhero nature comes out as he defends his companion to the end.
    • 3/5
      This is one of those books that I might have read before and forgotten about it. This was a pretty good book, I think my favorite part was that I picked up a new vocabulary word because the author over used it... "virility."
    • 4/5
      A sad, wonderful tale.
    • 3/5
      I read Call of the Wild. In the book, Buck (the main character), was a domesticated dog who lived on a farm. He was sold to be a sled dog and his life changed forever. Buck was put in a cage for many days until someone would buy him. He was beaten to show that the master had power over him. When someone bought him he was hooked up on the sled. Buck and Spitz (another sled dog) didn't get along from the beginning. When Buck became stronger and more powerful, Spitz was afraid that Buck would overpower him. When they had enough of each other Buck killed Spitz and took the role of lead dog. Then three people bought all of the dogs from the other owners. The three people didn't bring enough food for all of the dogs so the dogs became tired and couldn't pull the sled. Eventually Buck gave up and Jonathan (one of the men) was stabbed. They were left and on the side of the road while the sled left them. The sled broke through the ice and all the dogs and men died. Buck and Jonathan became good friends and went on many adventures together. Buck wanted to go with wolves but loved his new owner too much. When Jonathan died, Buck left and joined the wolves.The book was rated a four. I would rate this book a three because for me it was hard to understand. I couldn't tell if it was being told from the dogs view or third person but about the dog. I would recommend it because it is a classic, but not for young kids. I definitely think it is a good book. I thought the ending was good because throughout the book he said that the wild was calling for him. I watched the movie and it was nothing like the book. I would recommend the book over the movie any day.
    • 4/5
      Stolen from his home and sold to dog sled outfitters, Buck hears his call and is forever changed…for his better. Makes one think about his personal callings and decisions.

    Book preview

    The Call of the Wild - Jack London

    THE CALL OF THE WILD

    Jack London

    CONTENTS

    Cover

    Title Page

    Chapter 1 Into the Primitive

    Chapter 2 The Law of Club and Fang

    Chapter 3 The Dominant Primordial Beast

    Chapter 4 Who has won to Mastership

    Chapter 5 The Toil of Trace and Trail

    Chapter 6 For the Love of a Man

    Chapter 7 The Sounding of the Call

    Classic Literature: Words and Phrases Adapted from the Collins English Dictionary

    About the Author

    History of Collins

    Copyright

    About the Publisher

    CHAPTER 1

    Into the Primitive

    ‘Old longings nomadic leap,

    Chafing at custom’s chain;

    Again from its brumal sleep

    Wakens the ferine strain.’

    Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tide-water dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego. Because men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal, and because steamship and transportation companies were booming the find, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted dogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by which to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the frost.

    Buck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley. Judge Miller’s place, it was called. It stood back from the road, half hidden among the trees, through which glimpses could be caught of the wide cool veranda that ran around its four sides. The house was approached by gravelled drive-ways which wound about through wide-spreading lawns and under the interlacing boughs of tall poplars. At the rear things were on even a more spacious scale than at the front. There were great stables, where a dozen grooms and boys held forth, rows of vine-clad servants’ cottages, an endless and orderly array of outhouses, long grape arbors, green pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then there was the pumping plant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where Judge Miller’s boys took their morning plunge and kept cool in the hot afternoon.

    And over this great demesne Buck ruled. Here he was born, and here he had lived the four years of his life. It was true, there were other dogs. There could not but be other dogs on so vast a place, but they did not count. They came and went, resided in the populous kennels, or lived obscurely in the recesses of the house after the fashion of Toots, the Japanese pug, or Ysabel, the Mexican hairless,—strange creatures that rarely put nose out of doors or set foot to ground. On the other hand, there were the fox terriers, a score of them at least, who yelped fearful promises at Toots and Ysabel looking out of the windows at them and protected by a legion of housemaids armed with brooms and mops.

    But Buck was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The whole realm was his. He plunged into the swimming tank or went hunting with the Judge’s sons; he escorted Mollie and Alice, the Judge’s daughters, on long twilight or early morning rambles; on wintry nights he lay at the Judge’s feet before the roaring library fire; he carried the Judge’s grandsons on his back, or rolled them in the grass, and guarded their footsteps through wild adventures down to the fountain in the stable yard, and even beyond, where the paddocks were, and the berry patches. Among the terriers he stalked imperiously, and Toots and Ysabel he utterly ignored, for he was king,—king over all creeping, crawling, flying things of Judge Miller’s place, humans included.

    His father, Elmo, a huge St. Bernard, had been the Judge’s inseparable companion, and Buck bid fair to follow in the way of his father. He was not so large,—he weighed only one hundred and forty pounds,—for his mother, Shep, had been a Scotch shepherd dog. Nevertheless, one hundred and forty pounds, to which was added the dignity that comes of good living and universal respect, enabled him to carry himself in right royal fashion. During the four years since his puppyhood he had lived the life of a sated aristocrat; he had a fine pride in himself, was even a trifle egotistical, as country gentlemen sometimes become because of their insular situation. But he had saved himself by not becoming a mere pampered house-dog. Hunting and kindred outdoor delights had kept down the fat and hardened his muscles; and to him, as to the cold-tubbing races, the love of water had been a tonic and a health preserver.

    And this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, when the Klondike strike dragged men from all the world into the frozen North. But Buck did not read the newspapers, and he did not know that Manuel, one of the gardener’s helpers, was an undesirable acquaintance. Manuel had one besetting sin. He loved to play Chinese lottery. Also, in his gambling, he had one besetting weakness—faith in a system; and this made his damnation certain. For to play a system requires money, while the wages of a gardener’s helper do not lap over the needs of a wife and numerous progeny.

    The Judge was at a meeting of the Raisin Growers Association, and the boys were busy organizing an athletic club, on the memorable night of Manuel’s treachery. No one saw him and Buck go off through the orchard on what Buck imagined was merely a stroll. And with the exception of a solitary man, no one saw them arrive at the little flag station known as College Park. This man talked with Manuel, and money chinked between them.

    ‘You might wrap up the goods before you deliver ’m,’ the stranger said gruffly, and Manuel doubled a piece of stout rope around Buck’s neck under the collar.

    ‘Twist it, an’ you’ll choke ’m plentee,’ said Manuel, and the stranger grunted a ready affirmative.

    Buck had accepted the rope with quiet dignity. To be sure, it was an unwonted performance: but he had learned to trust in men he knew, and to give them credit for a wisdom that outreached his own. But when the ends of the rope were placed in the stranger’s hands, he growled menacingly. He had merely intimated his displeasure, in his pride believing that to intimate was to command. But to his surprise the rope tightened around his neck, shutting off his breath. In quick rage he sprang at the man, who met him halfway, grappled him close by the throat, and with a deft twist threw him over on his back. Then the rope tightened mercilessly, while Buck struggled in a fury, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his great chest panting futilely. Never in all his life had he been so vilely treated, and never in all his life had he been so angry. But his strength ebbed, his eyes glazed, and he knew nothing when the train was flagged and the two men threw him into the baggage car.

    The next he knew, he was dimly aware that his tongue was hurting and that he was being jolted along in some kind of a conveyance. The hoarse shriek of a locomotive whistling a crossing told him where he was. He had travelled too often with the Judge not to know the sensation of riding in a baggage car. He opened his eyes, and into them came the unbridled anger of a kidnapped king. The man sprang for his throat, but Buck was too quick for him. His jaws closed on the hand, nor did they relax till his senses were choked out of him once more.

    ‘Yep, has fits,’ the man said, hiding his mangled hand from the baggageman, who had been attracted by the sounds of struggle. ‘I’m takin’ ’m up for the boss to ’Frisco. A crack dog-doctor there thinks that he can cure ’m.’

    Concerning that night’s ride, the man spoke most eloquently for himself, in a little shed back of a saloon on the San Francisco water front.

    ‘All I get is fifty for it,’ he grumbled; ‘an’ I wouldn’t do it over for a thousand, cold cash.’

    His hand was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief, and the right trouser leg was ripped from knee to ankle.

    ‘How much did the other mug get?’ the saloon-keeper demanded.

    ‘A hundred,’ was the reply. ‘Wouldn’t take a sou less, so help me.’

    ‘That makes a hundred and fifty,’ the saloon-keeper calculated; ‘and he’s worth it, or I’m a squarehead.’

    The kidnapper undid the bloody wrappings and looked at his lacerated hand. ‘If I don’t get the hydrophoby—’

    ‘It’ll be because you was born to hang,’ laughed the saloon-keeper. ‘Here, lend me a hand before you pull your freight,’ he added.

    Dazed, suffering intolerable pain from throat and tongue, with the life half throttled out of him, Buck attempted to face his tormentors. But he was thrown down and choked repeatedly, till they succeeded in filing the heavy brass collar from off his neck. Then the rope was removed, and he was flung into a cagelike crate.

    There he lay for the remainder of the weary night, nursing his wrath and wounded pride. He could not understand what it all meant. What did they want with him, these strange men? Why were they keeping him pent up in this narrow crate? He did not know why, but he felt oppressed by the vague sense of impending calamity. Several times during the night he sprang to his feet when the shed door rattled open, expecting to see the Judge, or the boys at least. But each time it was the bulging face of the saloon-keeper that peered in at him by the sickly light of a tallow candle. And each time the joyful bark that trembled in Buck’s throat was twisted into a savage growl.

    But the saloon-keeper let him alone, and in the morning four men entered and picked up the crate. More tormentors, Buck decided, for they were evil-looking creatures, ragged and unkempt; and he stormed and raged at them through the bars. They only laughed and poked sticks at him, which he promptly assailed with his teeth till he realized that that was what they wanted. Whereupon he lay down sullenly and allowed the crate to be lifted into a wagon. Then he, and the crate in which he was imprisoned, began a passage through many hands. Clerks in the express office took charge of him; he was carted about in another wagon; a truck carried him, with an assortment of boxes and parcels, upon a ferry steamer; he was trucked off the steamer into a great railway depot, and finally he was deposited in an express car.

    For two days and nights this express car was dragged along at the tail of shrieking locomotives; and for two days and nights Buck neither ate nor drank. In his anger he had met the first advances of the express messengers with growls, and they had retaliated by teasing him. When he flung himself against the bars, quivering and frothing, they laughed at him and taunted him. They growled and barked like detestable dogs, mewed, and flapped their arms and crowed. It was all very silly, he knew; but therefore the more outrage to his dignity, and his anger waxed and waxed. He did not mind the hunger so much, but the lack of water caused him severe suffering and fanned his wrath to fever-pitch. For that matter, high-strung and finely sensitive, the ill treatment had flung him into a fever, which was fed by the inflammation of his parched and swollen throat and tongue.

    He was glad for one thing: the rope was off his neck. That had given them an unfair advantage; but now that it was off, he would show them. They would never get another rope around his neck. Upon that he was resolved. For two days and nights he neither ate nor drank, and during those two days and nights of torment, he accumulated a fund of wrath that boded ill for whoever first fell foul of him. His eyes turned blood-shot, and he was metamorphosed into a raging fiend. So changed was he that the Judge himself would not have recognized him; and the express messengers breathed with relief when they bundled him off the train at Seattle.

    Four men gingerly carried the crate from the wagon into a small, high-walled back yard. A stout man, with a red sweater that sagged generously at the neck, came out and signed the book for the driver. That was the man, Buck divined, the next tormentor, and he hurled himself savagely against the bars. The man smiled grimly, and brought a hatchet and a club.

    ‘You ain’t going to take him out now?’ the driver asked.

    ‘Sure,’ the man replied, driving the hatchet into the crate for a pry.

    There was an instantaneous scattering of the four men who had carried it in, and from safe perches on top the wall they prepared to watch the performance.

    Buck rushed at the splintering wood, sinking his teeth into it, surging and wrestling with it. Wherever the hatchet fell on the outside, he was there on the inside, snarling and growling, as furiously anxious to get out as the man in the red sweater was calmly intent on getting him out.

    ‘Now, you red-eyed devil,’ he said, when he had made an opening sufficient for the passage of Buck’s body. At the same time he dropped the hatchet and shifted the club to his right hand.

    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 bloodshot eyes. Straight at the man he launched his one hundred and forty pounds of fury, surcharged with the pent passion of two days and nights. In mid air, just as his jaws were about to close on the man, he received a shock that checked his body and brought his teeth together with an agonizing clip. He whirled over, fetching the ground on his back and side. He had never been struck by a club in his life, and did not understand. With a snarl that was part bark and more scream he was again on his feet and launched into the air. And again the shock came and he was brought crushingly to the ground. This time he was aware that it was the club, but his madness knew no caution. A dozen times he charged, and as often the club broke the charge and smashed him down.

    After a

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