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- Джек Лондон
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- Стр. 94/119
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Matt
helped
the
man
to
his
feet
.
As
he
arose
he
lowered
his
crossed
arms
,
exposing
the
bestial
face
of
Beauty
Smith
.
The
dog-musher
let
go
of
him
precipitately
,
with
action
similar
to
that
of
a
man
who
has
picked
up
live
fire
.
Beauty
Smith
blinked
in
the
lamplight
and
looked
about
him
.
He
caught
sight
of
White
Fang
and
terror
rushed
into
his
face
.
At
the
same
moment
Matt
noticed
two
objects
lying
in
the
snow
.
He
held
the
lamp
close
to
them
,
indicating
them
with
his
toe
for
his
employer
's
benefit
--
a
steel
dog-chain
and
a
stout
club
.
Weedon
Scott
saw
and
nodded
.
Not
a
word
was
spoken
.
The
dog-musher
laid
his
hand
on
Beauty
Smith
's
shoulder
and
faced
him
to
the
right
about
.
No
word
needed
to
be
spoken
.
Beauty
Smith
started
.
In
the
meantime
the
love-master
was
patting
White
Fang
and
talking
to
him
.
"
Tried
to
steal
you
,
eh
?
And
you
would
n't
have
it
!
Well
,
well
,
he
made
a
mistake
,
did
n't
he
?
"
"
Must
'
a
'
thought
he
had
hold
of
seventeen
devils
,
"
the
dog-musher
sniggered
.
White
Fang
,
still
wrought
up
and
bristling
,
growled
and
growled
,
the
hair
slowly
lying
down
,
the
crooning
note
remote
and
dim
,
but
growing
in
his
throat
.
It
was
in
the
air
.
White
Fang
sensed
the
coming
calamity
,
even
before
there
was
tangible
evidence
of
it
.
In
vague
ways
it
was
borne
in
upon
him
that
a
change
was
impending
.
He
knew
not
how
nor
why
,
yet
he
got
his
feel
of
the
oncoming
event
from
the
gods
themselves
.
In
ways
subtler
than
they
knew
,
they
betrayed
their
intentions
to
the
wolf-dog
that
haunted
the
cabin-stoop
,
and
that
,
though
he
never
came
inside
the
cabin
,
knew
what
went
on
inside
their
brains
.
"
Listen
to
that
,
will
you
!
"
the
dug-musher
exclaimed
at
supper
one
night
.
Weedon
Scott
listened
.
Through
the
door
came
a
low
,
anxious
whine
,
like
a
sobbing
under
the
breath
that
had
just
grown
audible
.
Then
came
the
long
sniff
,
as
White
Fang
reassured
himself
that
his
god
was
still
inside
and
had
not
yet
taken
himself
off
in
mysterious
and
solitary
flight
.
