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- Джек Лондон
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To
such
extremity
were
the
gods
driven
that
they
ate
the
soft-tanned
leather
of
their
mocassins
and
mittens
,
while
the
dogs
ate
the
harnesses
off
their
backs
and
the
very
whip-lashes
.
Also
,
the
dogs
ate
one
another
,
and
also
the
gods
ate
the
dogs
.
The
weakest
and
the
more
worthless
were
eaten
first
.
The
dogs
that
still
lived
,
looked
on
and
understood
.
A
few
of
the
boldest
and
wisest
forsook
the
fires
of
the
gods
,
which
had
now
become
a
shambles
,
and
fled
into
the
forest
,
where
,
in
the
end
,
they
starved
to
death
or
were
eaten
by
wolves
.
In
this
time
of
misery
,
White
Fang
,
too
,
stole
away
into
the
woods
.
He
was
better
fitted
for
the
life
than
the
other
dogs
,
for
he
had
the
training
of
his
cubhood
to
guide
him
.
Especially
adept
did
he
become
in
stalking
small
living
things
.
He
would
lie
concealed
for
hours
,
following
every
movement
of
a
cautious
tree-squirrel
,
waiting
,
with
a
patience
as
huge
as
the
hunger
he
suffered
from
,
until
the
squirrel
ventured
out
upon
the
ground
.
Even
then
,
White
Fang
was
not
premature
.
He
waited
until
he
was
sure
of
striking
before
the
squirrel
could
gain
a
tree-refuge
.
Then
,
and
not
until
then
,
would
he
flash
from
his
hiding
~
place
,
a
grey
projectile
,
incredibly
swift
,
never
failing
its
mark
--
the
fleeing
squirrel
that
fled
not
fast
enough
.
Successful
as
he
was
with
squirrels
,
there
was
one
difficulty
that
prevented
him
from
living
and
growing
fat
on
them
.
There
were
not
enough
squirrels
.
So
he
was
driven
to
hunt
still
smaller
things
.
So
acute
did
his
hunger
become
at
times
that
he
was
not
above
rooting
out
wood-mice
from
their
burrows
in
the
ground
.
Nor
did
he
scorn
to
do
battle
with
a
weasel
as
hungry
as
himself
and
many
times
more
ferocious
.
In
the
worst
pinches
of
the
famine
he
stole
back
to
the
fires
of
the
gods
.
But
he
did
not
go
into
the
fires
.
He
lurked
in
the
forest
,
avoiding
discovery
and
robbing
the
snares
at
the
rare
intervals
when
game
was
caught
.
He
even
robbed
Grey
Beaver
's
snare
of
a
rabbit
at
a
time
when
Grey
Beaver
staggered
and
tottered
through
the
forest
,
sitting
down
often
to
rest
,
what
of
weakness
and
of
shortness
of
breath
.
One
day
While
Fang
encountered
a
young
wolf
,
gaunt
and
scrawny
,
loose-jointed
with
famine
.
Had
he
not
been
hungry
himself
,
White
Fang
might
have
gone
with
him
and
eventually
found
his
way
into
the
pack
amongst
his
wild
brethren
.
As
it
was
,
he
ran
the
young
wolf
down
and
killed
and
ate
him
.
Fortune
seemed
to
favour
him
.
Always
,
when
hardest
pressed
for
food
,
he
found
something
to
kill
.
Again
,
when
he
was
weak
,
it
was
his
luck
that
none
of
the
larger
preying
animals
chanced
upon
him
.
Thus
,
he
was
strong
from
the
two
days
'
eating
a
lynx
had
afforded
him
when
the
hungry
wolf-pack
ran
full
tilt
upon
him
.
It
was
a
long
,
cruel
chase
,
but
he
was
better
nourished
than
they
,
and
in
the
end
outran
them
.
And
not
only
did
he
outrun
them
,
but
,
circling
widely
back
on
his
track
,
he
gathered
in
one
of
his
exhausted
pursuers
.
After
that
he
left
that
part
of
the
country
and
journeyed
over
to
the
valley
wherein
he
had
been
born
.
Here
,
in
the
old
lair
,
he
encountered
Kiche
.
Up
to
her
old
tricks
,
she
,
too
,
had
fled
the
inhospitable
fires
of
the
gods
and
gone
back
to
her
old
refuge
to
give
birth
to
her
young
.
Of
this
litter
but
one
remained
alive
when
White
Fang
came
upon
the
scene
,
and
this
one
was
not
destined
to
live
long
.
Young
life
had
little
chance
in
such
a
famine
.
Kiche
's
greeting
of
her
grown
son
was
anything
but
affectionate
.
But
White
Fang
did
not
mind
.
He
had
outgrown
his
mother
.
So
he
turned
tail
philosophically
and
trotted
on
up
the
stream
.
At
the
forks
he
took
the
turning
to
the
left
,
where
he
found
the
lair
of
the
lynx
with
whom
his
mother
and
he
had
fought
long
before
.
Here
,
in
the
abandoned
lair
,
he
settled
down
and
rested
for
a
day
.
