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- Джек Лондон
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- Стр. 116/119
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Each
night
,
after
Sierra
Vista
had
gone
to
bed
,
she
rose
and
let
in
White
Fang
to
sleep
in
the
big
hall
.
Now
White
Fang
was
not
a
house-dog
,
nor
was
he
permitted
to
sleep
in
the
house
;
so
each
morning
,
early
,
she
slipped
down
and
let
him
out
before
the
family
was
awake
.
On
one
such
night
,
while
all
the
house
slept
,
White
Fang
awoke
and
lay
very
quietly
.
And
very
quietly
he
smelled
the
air
and
read
the
message
it
bore
of
a
strange
god
's
presence
.
And
to
his
ears
came
sounds
of
the
strange
god
's
movements
.
White
Fang
burst
into
no
furious
outcry
.
It
was
not
his
way
.
The
strange
god
walked
softly
,
but
more
softly
walked
White
Fang
,
for
he
had
no
clothes
to
rub
against
the
flesh
of
his
body
.
He
followed
silently
.
In
the
Wild
he
had
hunted
live
meat
that
was
infinitely
timid
,
and
he
knew
the
advantage
of
surprise
.
The
strange
god
paused
at
the
foot
of
the
great
staircase
and
listened
,
and
White
Fang
was
as
dead
,
so
without
movement
was
he
as
he
watched
and
waited
.
Up
that
staircase
the
way
led
to
the
love-master
and
to
the
love
~
master
's
dearest
possessions
.
White
Fang
bristled
,
but
waited
.
The
strange
god
's
foot
lifted
.
He
was
beginning
the
ascent
.
Then
it
was
that
White
Fang
struck
.
He
gave
no
warning
,
with
no
snarl
anticipated
his
own
action
.
Into
the
air
he
lifted
his
body
in
the
spring
that
landed
him
on
the
strange
god
's
back
.
White
Fang
clung
with
his
fore-paws
to
the
man
's
shoulders
,
at
the
same
time
burying
his
fangs
into
the
back
of
the
man
's
neck
.
He
clung
on
for
a
moment
,
long
enough
to
drag
the
god
over
backward
.
Together
they
crashed
to
the
floor
.
White
Fang
leaped
clear
,
and
,
as
the
man
struggled
to
rise
,
was
in
again
with
the
slashing
fangs
.
Sierra
Vista
awoke
in
alarm
.
The
noise
from
downstairs
was
as
that
of
a
score
of
battling
fiends
.
There
were
revolver
shots
.
A
man
's
voice
screamed
once
in
horror
and
anguish
.
There
was
a
great
snarling
and
growling
,
and
over
all
arose
a
smashing
and
crashing
of
furniture
and
glass
.
But
almost
as
quickly
as
it
had
arisen
,
the
commotion
died
away
.
The
struggle
had
not
lasted
more
than
three
minutes
.
The
frightened
household
clustered
at
the
top
of
the
stairway
.
From
below
,
as
from
out
an
abyss
of
blackness
,
came
up
a
gurgling
sound
,
as
of
air
bubbling
through
water
.
Sometimes
this
gurgle
became
sibilant
,
almost
a
whistle
.
But
this
,
too
,
quickly
died
down
and
ceased
.
Then
naught
came
up
out
of
the
blackness
save
a
heavy
panting
of
some
creature
struggling
sorely
for
air
.
Weedon
Scott
pressed
a
button
,
and
the
staircase
and
downstairs
hall
were
flooded
with
light
.
Then
he
and
Judge
Scott
,
revolvers
in
hand
,
cautiously
descended
.
There
was
no
need
for
this
caution
.
White
Fang
had
done
his
work
.
In
the
midst
of
the
wreckage
of
overthrown
and
smashed
furniture
,
partly
on
his
side
,
his
face
hidden
by
an
arm
,
lay
a
man
.
Weedon
Scott
bent
over
,
removed
the
arm
and
turned
the
man
's
face
upward
.
A
gaping
throat
explained
the
manner
of
his
death
.
"
Jim
Hall
,
"
said
Judge
Scott
,
and
father
and
son
looked
significantly
at
each
other
.
Then
they
turned
to
White
Fang
.
He
,
too
,
was
lying
on
his
side
.
His
eyes
were
closed
,
but
the
lids
slightly
lifted
in
an
effort
to
look
at
them
as
they
bent
over
him
,
and
the
tail
was
perceptibly
agitated
in
a
vain
effort
to
wag
.
Weedon
Scott
patted
him
,
and
his
throat
rumbled
an
acknowledging
growl
.
But
it
was
a
weak
growl
at
best
,
and
it
quickly
ceased
.
His
eyelids
drooped
and
went
shut
,
and
his
whole
body
seemed
to
relax
and
flatten
out
upon
the
floor
.
