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During
the
early
summer
,
in
the
last
days
of
the
famine
,
he
met
Lip-lip
,
who
had
likewise
taken
to
the
woods
,
where
he
had
eked
out
a
miserable
existence
.
White
Fang
came
upon
him
unexpectedly
.
Trotting
in
opposite
directions
along
the
base
of
a
high
bluff
,
they
rounded
a
corner
of
rock
and
found
themselves
face
to
face
.
They
paused
with
instant
alarm
,
and
looked
at
each
other
suspiciously
.
White
Fang
was
in
splendid
condition
.
His
hunting
had
been
good
,
and
for
a
week
he
had
eaten
his
fill
.
He
was
even
gorged
from
his
latest
kill
.
But
in
the
moment
he
looked
at
Lip-lip
his
hair
rose
on
end
all
along
his
back
.
It
was
an
involuntary
bristling
on
his
part
,
the
physical
state
that
in
the
past
had
always
accompanied
the
mental
state
produced
in
him
by
Lip-lip
's
bullying
and
persecution
.
As
in
the
past
he
had
bristled
and
snarled
at
sight
of
Lip-lip
,
so
now
,
and
automatically
,
he
bristled
and
snarled
.
He
did
not
waste
any
time
.
The
thing
was
done
thoroughly
and
with
despatch
.
Lip-lip
essayed
to
back
away
,
but
White
Fang
struck
him
hard
,
shoulder
to
shoulder
.
Lip-lip
was
overthrown
and
rolled
upon
his
back
.
White
Fang
's
teeth
drove
into
the
scrawny
throat
.
There
was
a
death-struggle
,
during
which
White
Fang
walked
around
,
stiff-legged
and
observant
.
Then
he
resumed
his
course
and
trotted
on
along
the
base
of
the
bluff
.
One
day
,
not
long
after
,
he
came
to
the
edge
of
the
forest
,
where
a
narrow
stretch
of
open
land
sloped
down
to
the
Mackenzie
.
He
had
been
over
this
ground
before
,
when
it
was
bare
,
but
now
a
village
occupied
it
.
Still
hidden
amongst
the
trees
,
he
paused
to
study
the
situation
.
Sights
and
sounds
and
scents
were
familiar
to
him
.
It
was
the
old
village
changed
to
a
new
place
.
But
sights
and
sounds
and
smells
were
different
from
those
he
had
last
had
when
he
fled
away
from
it
.
There
was
no
whimpering
nor
wailing
.
Contented
sounds
saluted
his
ear
,
and
when
he
heard
the
angry
voice
of
a
woman
he
knew
it
to
be
the
anger
that
proceeds
from
a
full
stomach
.
And
there
was
a
smell
in
the
air
of
fish
.
There
was
food
.
The
famine
was
gone
.
He
came
out
boldly
from
the
forest
and
trotted
into
camp
straight
to
Grey
Beaver
's
tepee
.
Grey
Beaver
was
not
there
;
but
Kloo-kooch
welcomed
him
with
glad
cries
and
the
whole
of
a
fresh-caught
fish
,
and
he
lay
down
to
wait
Grey
Beaver
's
coming
.
Had
there
been
in
White
Fang
's
nature
any
possibility
,
no
matter
how
remote
,
of
his
ever
coming
to
fraternise
with
his
kind
,
such
possibility
was
irretrievably
destroyed
when
he
was
made
leader
of
the
sled-team
.
For
now
the
dogs
hated
him
--
hated
him
for
the
extra
meat
bestowed
upon
him
by
Mit-sah
;
hated
him
for
all
the
real
and
fancied
favours
he
received
;
hated
him
for
that
he
fled
always
at
the
head
of
the
team
,
his
waving
brush
of
a
tail
and
his
perpetually
retreating
hind-quarters
for
ever
maddening
their
eyes
.
And
White
Fang
just
as
bitterly
hated
them
back
.
Being
sled-leader
was
anything
but
gratifying
to
him
.
To
be
compelled
to
run
away
before
the
yelling
pack
,
every
dog
of
which
,
for
three
years
,
he
had
thrashed
and
mastered
,
was
almost
more
than
he
could
endure
.
But
endure
it
he
must
,
or
perish
,
and
the
life
that
was
in
him
had
no
desire
to
perish
out
.
The
moment
Mit-sah
gave
his
order
for
the
start
,
that
moment
the
whole
team
,
with
eager
,
savage
cries
,
sprang
forward
at
White
Fang
.
There
was
no
defence
for
him
.
If
he
turned
upon
them
,
Mit-sah
would
throw
the
stinging
lash
of
the
whip
into
his
face
.
Only
remained
to
him
to
run
away
.
He
could
not
encounter
that
howling
horde
with
his
tail
and
hind-quarters
.
These
were
scarcely
fit
weapons
with
which
to
meet
the
many
merciless
fangs
.
So
run
away
he
did
,
violating
his
own
nature
and
pride
with
every
leap
he
made
,
and
leaping
all
day
long
.
One
can
not
violate
the
promptings
of
one
's
nature
without
having
that
nature
recoil
upon
itself
.
Such
a
recoil
is
like
that
of
a
hair
,
made
to
grow
out
from
the
body
,
turning
unnaturally
upon
the
direction
of
its
growth
and
growing
into
the
body
--
a
rankling
,
festering
thing
of
hurt
.
And
so
with
White
Fang
.
Every
urge
of
his
being
impelled
him
to
spring
upon
the
pack
that
cried
at
his
heels
,
but
it
was
the
will
of
the
gods
that
this
should
not
be
;
and
behind
the
will
,
to
enforce
it
,
was
the
whip
of
cariboo-gut
with
its
biting
thirty-foot
lash
.
So
White
Fang
could
only
eat
his
heart
in
bitterness
and
develop
a
hatred
and
malice
commensurate
with
the
ferocity
and
indomitability
of
his
nature
.
