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- Джек Лондон
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- Стр. 92/119
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"
Holy
smoke
!
"
Matt
exclaimed
.
"
Look
at
'
m
wag
his
tail
!
"
Weedon
Scott
strode
half
across
the
room
toward
him
,
at
the
same
time
calling
him
.
White
Fang
came
to
him
,
not
with
a
great
bound
,
yet
quickly
.
He
was
awakened
from
self-consciousness
,
but
as
he
drew
near
,
his
eyes
took
on
a
strange
expression
.
Something
,
an
incommunicable
vastness
of
feeling
,
rose
up
into
his
eyes
as
a
light
and
shone
forth
.
"
He
never
looked
at
me
that
way
all
the
time
you
was
gone
!
"
Matt
commented
.
Weedon
Scott
did
not
hear
.
He
was
squatting
down
on
his
heels
,
face
to
face
with
White
Fang
and
petting
him
--
rubbing
at
the
roots
of
the
ears
,
making
long
caressing
strokes
down
the
neck
to
the
shoulders
,
tapping
the
spine
gently
with
the
balls
of
his
fingers
.
And
White
Fang
was
growling
responsively
,
the
crooning
note
of
the
growl
more
pronounced
than
ever
.
But
that
was
not
all
.
What
of
his
joy
,
the
great
love
in
him
,
ever
surging
and
struggling
to
express
itself
,
succeeding
in
finding
a
new
mode
of
expression
.
He
suddenly
thrust
his
head
forward
and
nudged
his
way
in
between
the
master
's
arm
and
body
.
And
here
,
confined
,
hidden
from
view
all
except
his
ears
,
no
longer
growling
,
he
continued
to
nudge
and
snuggle
.
The
two
men
looked
at
each
other
.
Scott
's
eyes
were
shining
.
"
Gosh
!
"
said
Matt
in
an
awe-stricken
voice
.
A
moment
later
,
when
he
had
recovered
himself
,
he
said
,
"
I
always
insisted
that
wolf
was
a
dog
.
Look
at
'
m
!
"
With
the
return
of
the
love-master
,
White
Fang
's
recovery
was
rapid
.
Two
nights
and
a
day
he
spent
in
the
cabin
.
Then
he
sallied
forth
.
The
sled-dogs
had
forgotten
his
prowess
.
They
remembered
only
the
latest
,
which
was
his
weakness
and
sickness
.
At
the
sight
of
him
as
he
came
out
of
the
cabin
,
they
sprang
upon
him
.
"
Talk
about
your
rough-houses
,
"
Matt
murmured
gleefully
,
standing
in
the
doorway
and
looking
on
.
