-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джек Лондон
-
- Белый клык
-
- Стр. 50/119
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Impelled
by
the
blows
that
rained
upon
him
,
now
from
this
side
,
now
from
that
,
White
Fang
swung
back
and
forth
like
an
erratic
and
jerky
pendulum
.
Varying
were
the
emotions
that
surged
through
him
.
At
first
,
he
had
known
surprise
.
Then
came
a
momentary
fear
,
when
he
yelped
several
times
to
the
impact
of
the
hand
.
But
this
was
quickly
followed
by
anger
.
His
free
nature
asserted
itself
,
and
he
showed
his
teeth
and
snarled
fearlessly
in
the
face
of
the
wrathful
god
.
This
but
served
to
make
the
god
more
wrathful
.
The
blows
came
faster
,
heavier
,
more
shrewd
to
hurt
.
Grey
Beaver
continued
to
beat
,
White
Fang
continued
to
snarl
.
But
this
could
not
last
for
ever
.
One
or
the
other
must
give
over
,
and
that
one
was
White
Fang
.
Fear
surged
through
him
again
.
For
the
first
time
he
was
being
really
man-handled
.
The
occasional
blows
of
sticks
and
stones
he
had
previously
experienced
were
as
caresses
compared
with
this
.
He
broke
down
and
began
to
cry
and
yelp
.
For
a
time
each
blow
brought
a
yelp
from
him
;
but
fear
passed
into
terror
,
until
finally
his
yelps
were
voiced
in
unbroken
succession
,
unconnected
with
the
rhythm
of
the
punishment
.
At
last
Grey
Beaver
withheld
his
hand
.
White
Fang
,
hanging
limply
,
continued
to
cry
.
This
seemed
to
satisfy
his
master
,
who
flung
him
down
roughly
in
the
bottom
of
the
canoe
.
In
the
meantime
the
canoe
had
drifted
down
the
stream
.
Grey
Beaver
picked
up
the
paddle
.
White
Fang
was
in
his
way
.
He
spurned
him
savagely
with
his
foot
.
In
that
moment
White
Fang
's
free
nature
flashed
forth
again
,
and
he
sank
his
teeth
into
the
moccasined
foot
.
The
beating
that
had
gone
before
was
as
nothing
compared
with
the
beating
he
now
received
.
Grey
Beaver
's
wrath
was
terrible
;
likewise
was
White
Fang
's
fright
.
Not
only
the
hand
,
but
the
hard
wooden
paddle
was
used
upon
him
;
and
he
was
bruised
and
sore
in
all
his
small
body
when
he
was
again
flung
down
in
the
canoe
.
Again
,
and
this
time
with
purpose
,
did
Grey
Beaver
kick
him
.
White
Fang
did
not
repeat
his
attack
on
the
foot
.
He
had
learned
another
lesson
of
his
bondage
.
Never
,
no
matter
what
the
circumstance
,
must
he
dare
to
bite
the
god
who
was
lord
and
master
over
him
;
the
body
of
the
lord
and
master
was
sacred
,
not
to
be
defiled
by
the
teeth
of
such
as
he
.
That
was
evidently
the
crime
of
crimes
,
the
one
offence
there
was
no
condoning
nor
overlooking
.
When
the
canoe
touched
the
shore
,
White
Fang
lay
whimpering
and
motionless
,
waiting
the
will
of
Grey
Beaver
.
It
was
Grey
Beaver
's
will
that
he
should
go
ashore
,
for
ashore
he
was
flung
,
striking
heavily
on
his
side
and
hurting
his
bruises
afresh
.
He
crawled
tremblingly
to
his
feet
and
stood
whimpering
.
Lip-lip
,
who
had
watched
the
whole
proceeding
from
the
bank
,
now
rushed
upon
him
,
knocking
him
over
and
sinking
his
teeth
into
him
.
White
Fang
was
too
helpless
to
defend
himself
,
and
it
would
have
gone
hard
with
him
had
not
Grey
Beaver
's
foot
shot
out
,
lifting
Lip-lip
into
the
air
with
its
violence
so
that
he
smashed
down
to
earth
a
dozen
feet
away
.
This
was
the
man-animal
's
justice
;
and
even
then
,
in
his
own
pitiable
plight
,
White
Fang
experienced
a
little
grateful
thrill
.
At
Grey
Beaver
's
heels
he
limped
obediently
through
the
village
to
the
tepee
.
And
so
it
came
that
White
Fang
learned
that
the
right
to
punish
was
something
the
gods
reserved
for
themselves
and
denied
to
the
lesser
creatures
under
them
.
That
night
,
when
all
was
still
,
White
Fang
remembered
his
mother
and
sorrowed
for
her
.
He
sorrowed
too
loudly
and
woke
up
Grey
Beaver
,
who
beat
him
.
After
that
he
mourned
gently
when
the
gods
were
around
.
But
sometimes
,
straying
off
to
the
edge
of
the
woods
by
himself
,
he
gave
vent
to
his
grief
,
and
cried
it
out
with
loud
whimperings
and
wailings
.
It
was
during
this
period
that
he
might
have
harkened
to
the
memories
of
the
lair
and
the
stream
and
run
back
to
the
Wild
.
But
the
memory
of
his
mother
held
him
.
As
the
hunting
man-animals
went
out
and
came
back
,
so
she
would
come
back
to
the
village
some
time
.
So
he
remained
in
his
bondage
waiting
for
her
.
But
it
was
not
altogether
an
unhappy
bondage
.
There
was
much
to
interest
him
.
Something
was
always
happening
.
There
was
no
end
to
the
strange
things
these
gods
did
,
and
he
was
always
curious
to
see
.
Besides
,
he
was
learning
how
to
get
along
with
Grey
Beaver
.
Obedience
,
rigid
,
undeviating
obedience
,
was
what
was
exacted
of
him
;
and
in
return
he
escaped
beatings
and
his
existence
was
tolerated
.
Nay
,
Grey
Beaver
himself
sometimes
tossed
him
a
piece
of
meat
,
and
defended
him
against
the
other
dogs
in
the
eating
of
it
.
And
such
a
piece
of
meat
was
of
value
.
It
was
worth
more
,
in
some
strange
way
,
then
a
dozen
pieces
of
meat
from
the
hand
of
a
squaw
.
Grey
Beaver
never
petted
nor
caressed
.
Perhaps
it
was
the
weight
of
his
hand
,
perhaps
his
justice
,
perhaps
the
sheer
power
of
him
,
and
perhaps
it
was
all
these
things
that
influenced
White
Fang
;
for
a
certain
tie
of
attachment
was
forming
between
him
and
his
surly
lord
.
