-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джек Лондон
-
- Белый клык
-
- Стр. 59/119
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
They
quickly
learned
to
leave
him
alone
,
neither
venturing
hostile
acts
nor
making
overtures
of
friendliness
.
If
they
left
him
alone
,
he
left
them
alone
--
a
state
of
affairs
that
they
found
,
after
a
few
encounters
,
to
be
pre-eminently
desirable
.
In
midsummer
White
Fang
had
an
experience
.
Trotting
along
in
his
silent
way
to
investigate
a
new
tepee
which
had
been
erected
on
the
edge
of
the
village
while
he
was
away
with
the
hunters
after
moose
,
he
came
full
upon
Kiche
.
He
paused
and
looked
at
her
.
He
remembered
her
vaguely
,
but
he
remembered
her
,
and
that
was
more
than
could
be
said
for
her
.
She
lifted
her
lip
at
him
in
the
old
snarl
of
menace
,
and
his
memory
became
clear
.
His
forgotten
cubhood
,
all
that
was
associated
with
that
familiar
snarl
,
rushed
back
to
him
.
Before
he
had
known
the
gods
,
she
had
been
to
him
the
centre-pin
of
the
universe
.
The
old
familiar
feelings
of
that
time
came
back
upon
him
,
surged
up
within
him
.
He
bounded
towards
her
joyously
,
and
she
met
him
with
shrewd
fangs
that
laid
his
cheek
open
to
the
bone
.
He
did
not
understand
.
He
backed
away
,
bewildered
and
puzzled
.
But
it
was
not
Kiche
's
fault
.
A
wolf-mother
was
not
made
to
remember
her
cubs
of
a
year
or
so
before
.
So
she
did
not
remember
White
Fang
.
He
was
a
strange
animal
,
an
intruder
;
and
her
present
litter
of
puppies
gave
her
the
right
to
resent
such
intrusion
.
One
of
the
puppies
sprawled
up
to
White
Fang
.
They
were
half-brothers
,
only
they
did
not
know
it
.
White
Fang
sniffed
the
puppy
curiously
,
whereupon
Kiche
rushed
upon
him
,
gashing
his
face
a
second
time
.
He
backed
farther
away
.
All
the
old
memories
and
associations
died
down
again
and
passed
into
the
grave
from
which
they
had
been
resurrected
.
He
looked
at
Kiche
licking
her
puppy
and
stopping
now
and
then
to
snarl
at
him
.
She
was
without
value
to
him
.
He
had
learned
to
get
along
without
her
.
Her
meaning
was
forgotten
.
There
was
no
place
for
her
in
his
scheme
of
things
,
as
there
was
no
place
for
him
in
hers
.
He
was
still
standing
,
stupid
and
bewildered
,
the
memories
forgotten
,
wondering
what
it
was
all
about
,
when
Kiche
attacked
him
a
third
time
,
intent
on
driving
him
away
altogether
from
the
vicinity
.
And
White
Fang
allowed
himself
to
be
driven
away
.
This
was
a
female
of
his
kind
,
and
it
was
a
law
of
his
kind
that
the
males
must
not
fight
the
females
.
He
did
not
know
anything
about
this
law
,
for
it
was
no
generalisation
of
the
mind
,
not
a
something
acquired
by
experience
of
the
world
.
He
knew
it
as
a
secret
prompting
,
as
an
urge
of
instinct
--
of
the
same
instinct
that
made
him
howl
at
the
moon
and
stars
of
nights
,
and
that
made
him
fear
death
and
the
unknown
.
The
months
went
by
.
White
Fang
grew
stronger
,
heavier
,
and
more
compact
,
while
his
character
was
developing
along
the
lines
laid
down
by
his
heredity
and
his
environment
.
His
heredity
was
a
life-stuff
that
may
be
likened
to
clay
.
It
possessed
many
possibilities
,
was
capable
of
being
moulded
into
many
different
forms
.
Environment
served
to
model
the
clay
,
to
give
it
a
particular
form
.
Thus
,
had
White
Fang
never
come
in
to
the
fires
of
man
,
the
Wild
would
have
moulded
him
into
a
true
wolf
.
But
the
gods
had
given
him
a
different
environment
,
and
he
was
moulded
into
a
dog
that
was
rather
wolfish
,
but
that
was
a
dog
and
not
a
wolf
.
And
so
,
according
to
the
clay
of
his
nature
and
the
pressure
of
his
surroundings
,
his
character
was
being
moulded
into
a
certain
particular
shape
.
There
was
no
escaping
it
.
He
was
becoming
more
morose
,
more
uncompanionable
,
more
solitary
,
more
ferocious
;
while
the
dogs
were
learning
more
and
more
that
it
was
better
to
be
at
peace
with
him
than
at
war
,
and
Grey
Beaver
was
coming
to
prize
him
more
greatly
with
the
passage
of
each
day
.
White
Fang
,
seeming
to
sum
up
strength
in
all
his
qualities
,
nevertheless
suffered
from
one
besetting
weakness
.
He
could
not
stand
being
laughed
at
.
The
laughter
of
men
was
a
hateful
thing
.
They
might
laugh
among
themselves
about
anything
they
pleased
except
himself
,
and
he
did
not
mind
.
But
the
moment
laughter
was
turned
upon
him
he
would
fly
into
a
most
terrible
rage
.
Grave
,
dignified
,
sombre
,
a
laugh
made
him
frantic
to
ridiculousness
.
It
so
outraged
him
and
upset
him
that
for
hours
he
would
behave
like
a
demon
.
And
woe
to
the
dog
that
at
such
times
ran
foul
of
him
.
He
knew
the
law
too
well
to
take
it
out
of
Grey
Beaver
;
behind
Grey
Beaver
were
a
club
and
godhead
.
But
behind
the
dogs
there
was
nothing
but
space
,
and
into
this
space
they
flew
when
White
Fang
came
on
the
scene
,
made
mad
by
laughter
.
In
the
third
year
of
his
life
there
came
a
great
famine
to
the
Mackenzie
Indians
.
In
the
summer
the
fish
failed
.
In
the
winter
the
cariboo
forsook
their
accustomed
track
.
Moose
were
scarce
,
the
rabbits
almost
disappeared
,
hunting
and
preying
animals
perished
.
Denied
their
usual
food-supply
,
weakened
by
hunger
,
they
fell
upon
and
devoured
one
another
.
Only
the
strong
survived
.
White
Fang
's
gods
were
always
hunting
animals
.
The
old
and
the
weak
of
them
died
of
hunger
.
There
was
wailing
in
the
village
,
where
the
women
and
children
went
without
in
order
that
what
little
they
had
might
go
into
the
bellies
of
the
lean
and
hollow-eyed
hunters
who
trod
the
forest
in
the
vain
pursuit
of
meat
.
