-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джек Лондон
-
- Зов предков
-
- Стр. 40/42
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
From
then
on
,
night
and
day
,
Buck
never
left
his
prey
,
never
gave
it
a
moment
's
rest
,
never
permitted
it
to
browse
the
leaves
of
trees
or
the
shoots
of
young
birch
and
willow
.
Nor
did
he
give
the
wounded
bull
opportunity
to
slake
his
burning
thirst
in
the
slender
trickling
streams
they
crossed
.
Often
,
in
desperation
,
he
burst
into
long
stretches
of
flight
.
At
such
times
Buck
did
not
attempt
to
stay
him
,
but
loped
easily
at
his
heels
,
satisfied
with
the
way
the
game
was
played
,
lying
down
when
the
moose
stood
still
,
attacking
him
fiercely
when
he
strove
to
eat
or
drink
.
The
great
head
drooped
more
and
more
under
its
tree
of
horns
,
and
the
shambling
trot
grew
weak
and
weaker
.
He
took
to
standing
for
long
periods
,
with
nose
to
the
ground
and
dejected
ears
dropped
limply
;
and
Buck
found
more
time
in
which
to
get
water
for
himself
and
in
which
to
rest
.
At
such
moments
,
panting
with
red
lolling
tongue
and
with
eyes
fixed
upon
the
big
bull
,
it
appeared
to
Buck
that
a
change
was
coming
over
the
face
of
things
.
He
could
feel
a
new
stir
in
the
land
.
As
the
moose
were
coming
into
the
land
,
other
kinds
of
life
were
coming
in
.
Forest
and
stream
and
air
seemed
palpitant
with
their
presence
.
The
news
of
it
was
borne
in
upon
him
,
not
by
sight
,
or
sound
,
or
smell
,
but
by
some
other
and
subtler
sense
.
He
heard
nothing
,
saw
nothing
,
yet
knew
that
the
land
was
somehow
different
;
that
through
it
strange
things
were
afoot
and
ranging
;
and
he
resolved
to
investigate
after
he
had
finished
the
business
in
hand
.
At
last
,
at
the
end
of
the
fourth
day
,
he
pulled
the
great
moose
down
.
For
a
day
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
John
Thornton
.
He
broke
into
the
long
easy
lope
,
and
went
on
,
hour
after
hour
,
never
at
loss
for
the
tangled
way
,
heading
straight
home
through
strange
country
with
a
certitude
of
direction
that
put
man
and
his
magnetic
needle
to
shame
.
As
he
held
on
he
became
more
and
more
conscious
of
the
new
stir
in
the
land
.
There
was
life
abroad
in
it
different
from
the
life
which
had
been
there
throughout
the
summer
.
No
longer
was
this
fact
borne
in
upon
him
in
some
subtle
,
mysterious
way
.
The
birds
talked
of
it
,
the
squirrels
chattered
about
it
,
the
very
breeze
whispered
of
it
.
Several
times
he
stopped
and
drew
in
the
fresh
morning
air
in
great
sniffs
,
reading
a
message
which
made
him
leap
on
with
greater
speed
.
He
was
oppressed
with
a
sense
of
calamity
happening
,
if
it
were
not
calamity
already
happened
;
and
as
he
crossed
the
last
watershed
and
dropped
down
into
the
valley
toward
camp
,
he
proceeded
with
greater
caution
.
Three
miles
away
he
came
upon
a
fresh
trail
that
sent
his
neck
hair
rippling
and
bristling
.
It
led
straight
toward
camp
and
John
Thornton
.
Buck
hurried
on
,
swiftly
and
stealthily
,
every
nerve
straining
and
tense
,
alert
to
the
multitudinous
details
which
told
a
story
--
all
but
the
end
.
His
nose
gave
him
a
varying
description
of
the
passage
of
the
life
on
the
heels
of
which
he
was
travelling
.
He
remarked
the
pregnant
silence
of
the
forest
.
The
bird
life
had
flitted
.
The
squirrels
were
in
hiding
.
One
only
he
saw
--
a
sleek
gray
fellow
,
flattened
against
a
gray
dead
limb
so
that
he
seemed
a
part
of
it
,
a
woody
excrescence
upon
the
wood
itself
.
As
Buck
slid
along
with
the
obscureness
of
a
gliding
shadow
,
his
nose
was
jerked
suddenly
to
the
side
as
though
a
positive
force
had
gripped
and
pulled
it
.
He
followed
the
new
scent
into
a
thicket
and
found
Nig
.
He
was
lying
on
his
side
,
dead
where
he
had
dragged
himself
,
an
arrow
protruding
,
head
and
feathers
,
from
either
side
of
his
body
.
A
hundred
yards
farther
on
,
Buck
came
upon
one
of
the
sled-dogs
Thornton
had
bought
in
Dawson
.
This
dog
was
thrashing
about
in
a
death-struggle
,
directly
on
the
trail
,
and
Buck
passed
around
him
without
stopping
.
From
the
camp
came
the
faint
sound
of
many
voices
,
rising
and
falling
in
a
sing-song
chant
.
Bellying
forward
to
the
edge
of
the
clearing
,
he
found
Hans
,
lying
on
his
face
,
feathered
with
arrows
like
a
porcupine
.
At
the
same
instant
Buck
peered
out
where
the
spruce-bough
lodge
had
been
and
saw
what
made
his
hair
leap
straight
up
on
his
neck
and
shoulders
.
A
gust
of
overpowering
rage
swept
over
him
.
He
did
not
know
that
he
growled
,
but
he
growled
aloud
with
a
terrible
ferocity
.
For
the
last
time
in
his
life
he
allowed
passion
to
usurp
cunning
and
reason
,
and
it
was
because
of
his
great
love
for
John
Thornton
that
he
lost
his
head
.
