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Call Wild

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Call Wild

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CALICO Jack London’s CLASSICS

The Call of the Wild

A DA P T E D BY : I L L U ST R AT E D BY :
Lisa Mullarkey Anthony VanArsdale
CALICO Jack London’s CLASSICS

A dapted by: Lisa Mullarkey


Illustrated by: Anthony VanArsdale
visit us at www.abdopublishing.com

Published by Magic Wagon, a division of the ABDO Group,


8000 West 78th Street, Edina, Minnesota 55439. Copyright
© 2011 by Abdo Consulting Group, Inc. International copyrights
reserved in all countries. All rights reserved. No part of this
book may be reproduced in any form without written permission
from the publisher.

Calico Chapter Books™ is a trademark and logo of Magic Wagon.

Printed in the United States of America, Melrose Park, Illinois.


042010
092010
This book contains at least 10% recycled materials.

Original text by Jack London


Adapted by Lisa Mullarkey
Illustrated by Anthony VanArsdale
Edited by Stephanie Hedlund and Rochelle Baltzer
Cover and interior design by Abbey Fitzgerald

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Mullarkey, Lisa.
Jack London's The call of the wild / adapted by Lisa Mullarkey ;
illustrated by Anthony VanArsdale.
p. cm. -- (Calico illustrated classics)
ISBN 978-1-60270-742-9
1. Dogs--Juvenile fiction. [1. Dogs--Fiction. 2. Wolves--Fiction. 3.
Yukon--Fiction.] I. VanArsdale, Anthony, ill. II. London, Jack, 1876-
1916. Call of the wild. III. Title. IV. Title: Call of the wild.
PZ7.M91148Cal 2010
[Fic]--dc22
2010003918
Table of Contents

CHAPTER 1: Kidnapped . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4

CHAPTER 2: Lesson Learned . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12

CHAPTER 3: The Law of Club and Fang . . . . 21

CHAPTER 4: The Invaders . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32

CHAPTER 5: A Fight to the End . . . . . . . . . . 37

CHAPTER 6: A New Leader . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45

CHAPTER 7: New Masters . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56

CHAPTER 8: John Thornton . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68

CHAPTER 9: Devoted Friends . . . . . . . . . . . . 77

CHAPTER 10: An Amazing Feat . . . . . . . . . . . 84

CHAPTER 11: A Wolf Brother . . . . . . . . . . . . 96

CHAPTER 12: Buck Answers the Call


of the Wild . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
1
Kidnapped

Buck did not read the newspapers. If he did,


he would have known that trouble was brewing
from Puget Sound to San Diego. Not only for
himself, but for every dog that was strong of
muscle with warm, long hair.
Men in the Arctic had found a yellow metal
that was worth a lot of money. They had found
gold. Steamships rushed thousands of men into
the Northland.
These men wanted dogs—heavy dogs with
strong muscles to work. They needed dogs with
furry coats to protect them from the frost.
Buck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed
Santa Clara Valley in California. Judge Miller’s
place, as it was called, stood back from the road.

4
It was half hidden among the trees. If you
looked closely, you could catch a glimpse of the
porch that ran around its four sides. It sat upon
wide-spreading lawns adorned with tall trees.
The back of the property was even bigger than
the front.
There were great stables, rows of vine-
covered servants’ cottages, and an array of
outhouses. Long grape arbors, green pastures,
orchards, and berry patches dotted the land.
There was a pumping plant for the well and a
big cement tank. It was in this tank that the
Miller boys took their morning plunge and kept
cool in the hot afternoon.
Buck ruled over all of it. He had been born
here, and he had lived here for all four years of
his life. There were other dogs, of course. But
they didn’t count. They came and went. Some
lived in the kennels and others, like Toots, the
Japanese pug, and Ysabel, the Mexican hairless,
stayed indoors. They rarely put a paw down on
the ground.
5
On the other hand, there were scores of fox
terriers who yelped at Toots and Ysabel
whenever they poked their eyes up at the
window. The house dogs were protected by the
housemaids, who were armed with brooms and
mops.
But Buck was neither a house dog nor a
kennel dog. The whole land was his. He
plunged into the swimming tank with the
Judge’s sons. He escorted Mollie and Alice, the
Judge’s daughters, on walks. On wintry days,
he’d lay at the Judge’s feet before the roaring
fire. He’d carry the Judge’s grandsons on his
back or roll them in the grass. He guarded their
footsteps through wild adventures down to the
fountain and berry patches.
Among the terriers, Buck talked in a bossy
manner. He ignored Toots and Ysabel, for he
was king over all creeping, crawling, flying
things of Judge Miller’s place. Humans
included.

6
7
His father, Elmo, was a St. Bernard and had
been the Judge’s constant companion. Buck
planned to follow in his footsteps. He wasn’t
as large as his father. He only weighed 140
pounds thanks to his mother. She had been a
Scotch Shepherd dog. Nevertheless, his size
was great enough.
Buck lived the life of a noble beast and felt,
perhaps, too much pride in himself. But he
saved himself by not becoming a mere
pampered house dog. Hunting and outdoor life
had kept him trim with hardened muscles.
This was the way in which Buck lived in
1897, when the Klondike strike dragged men
from all over the world into the frozen North.
But Buck did not read the newspapers.
Buck also did not know that Manuel, one of
the gardener’s helpers, was a bad man. Manuel
had a love for gambling. But gambling requires
money. Money is not something Manuel had a
lot of. After supporting his wife and children,
there was none left for him.
8
One night, the Judge was at a meeting of the
Raisin Growers’ Association. On this same
evening, the boys were busy with their sporting
games. As luck would have it, this also
happened to be the night of Manuel’s betrayal.
No one saw Manuel and Buck go off through
the orchard on what Buck thought was just a
stroll. With the exception of a man, no one saw
them arrive at the little train station known as
College Park. This man talked with Manuel and
money exchanged hands.
“You may want to wrap up the goods before
you deliver him,” said the stranger.
Manuel doubled a piece of rope around
Buck’s neck under his collar. “Twist it and you’ll
choke him plenty.”
Buck accepted the rope with dignity. He
didn’t want it around his neck but he had
learned to trust men that he knew. But when
the rope was placed in the stranger’s hand, he
growled. To his surprise, the rope tightened
around his neck and shut off his breath.
9
In a quick rage, Buck ran at the man. The
man grabbed him and threw him over on his
back. The rope tightened mercilessly and Buck
struggled to breathe. His chest heaved with
each breath. He had never been treated so
poorly! He had never felt such anger. But his
strength dimmed as the two men threw him
into the baggage car.
Buck had traveled enough with the Judge to
know he was on a moving train. He opened his
eyes and saw a fury of anger as he stared at his
kidnapper. The man sprang for his throat but
Buck was too quick for him. His jaws closed on
the man’s hand, and he didn’t release it until
his breath was choked out of him once again.
“He has fits,” said the man, hiding his
mangled hand from the baggage man who came
to see about the noise. “I’m taking him to San
Francisco. A doctor there thinks he can cure
him.”
When the train stopped, the man took Buck
off the train. They went to a little shed in the
10
back of a saloon on the San Francisco
waterfront.
“All I get is fifty for it,” he grumbled. “I
wouldn’t do it again for a thousand cash.” His
hand was mangled and his left pant leg was
ripped from knee to ankle.
“How much did the other guy get?” the
saloon keeper asked.
“A hundred,” was the reply. “Wouldn’t take
a penny less to help me.”
“That makes $150,” said the saloon keeper.
“He’s worth it.”
Buck listened to all this while suffering. He
attempted to face them but was thrown down
and choked repeatedly until they filed the
heavy brass collar off his neck.
After the rope was removed, Buck was flung
into a crate that looked like a cage. He lay there
for the rest of the night nursing his anger and
wounded pride. Why did these strange men
want him?

11
2
Lesson Learned

Several times throughout the night Buck


sprang to his feet when the door rattled open.
He expected to see the Judge or the boys. But
each time it was the bulging face of the saloon
keeper that peered in over the light of a candle.
And each time, the joyful bark that filled Buck’s
throat was twisted into a savage growl.
In the morning, four men entered and picked
up the crate. Buck decided they were evil
creatures. He growled and snarled at them
through the crate’s bars.
The men laughed at him and poked him
with sticks. He clamped down on those sticks
until he realized that was exactly what they
wanted. He lay down and started on a long

12
passage between many hands. He ventured by
wagon, truck, ferry steamer, and railway car.
For two days and nights, the car was dragged
along by other locomotives. Buck was given no
food or water. He didn’t mind the hunger so
much, but the lack of water made his anger
reach a frenzy. The bad treatment was only
made worse by his thirst.
The men didn’t care. They teased him. They
barked and growled at him, which caused him
to react.
He was glad for one thing. The rope was off
his neck. Now that it was off, he would show
them! They would never get another rope
around his neck. Ever. He was certain.
Buck spent those two days of torment
preparing for the first body that approached
him. His eyes turned bloodshot and he turned
into a raging beast. He was so changed that the
Judge himself would not have recognized him.
The train messengers breathed a sigh of relief
when they unloaded Buck from the train in
13
Seattle. Then, four men carefully carried the
crate from the wagon into a small yard. A short
man wearing a red sweater came out and signed
the receipt book for the driver.
That was the man, Buck decided, that would
be his next tormentor. He hurled himself
savagely against the bars. The man smiled
grimly. Then he fetched a hatchet and a club.
“You ain’t going to take him out now?” the
driver asked.
“Sure,” the man replied. He drove the
hatchet into the crate.
The four men scattered and jumped up on a
wall. They prepared to watch the performance
from safety.
Buck rushed at the splintering wood, sinking
his teeth into it. He surged and wrestled with
it. Wherever the hatchet fell on the outside, he
was there inside, snarling and growling. He was
just as anxious to get out as the man in the red
sweater was to get him out.

14
“You red-eyed devil,” said the man when he
made an opening big enough for Buck to get
out. He quickly dropped the hatchet and
shifted the club to his right hand.
Buck truly was a red-eyed devil. He drew
himself together, mouth foaming, hair bristling.
He had a mad glitter in his eyes. All 140 pounds
of him with the memories of the last few nights
surged ahead as he launched at the man.
In midair, just as his jaws were about to close
on the man, Buck received a shock. It brought
his teeth together in an agonizing clip. He
whirled to the ground. He had never been
struck by a club in his life and didn’t understand
what had happened.
With a snarl, Buck was again on his feet. He
launched once more into the air. Again, shock
came to his body as he was brought crushingly
to the ground. He was aware it was the club,
but his madness knew no caution. A dozen
times he charged and a dozen times the club
smashed him down.
15
After one particularly bad blow, Buck
crawled to his feet. He was too dazed to lunge
again. Blood flowed from his nose, mouth, and
ears. His beautiful coat was flecked with blood.
Once steady on his feet, the man came
toward him and hit him with all his force upon
the nose. The agony was greater than any pain
Buck had endured up until now.
With a roar, Buck hurled himself at the man
once more. But the man, shifting the club from
right to left, coolly caught him under the jaw
and jammed him to the floor.
The man’s last blow was the worst of all.
With it, Buck crumpled and was knocked out.
“He’s a hard dog to break,” said one of the
men on the wall.
Buck’s senses came back to him but not his
strength. He lay where he had fallen and
watched the man in the red sweater.
The man looked over the saloon keeper’s
letter. “He answers to the name of Buck. Well,
Buck, my boy, we’ve had our little fight. Best
16
we can do is let it go. You learned your place
and I know mine. Be a good dog and we’ll get
along well. Be a bad dog and I’ll whale the
stuffin’ out of you.”
As he spoke, he fearlessly patted the head he
had just pounded. Buck didn’t protest.
When the man brought water, Buck drank it
eagerly. Later, he ate a slab of meat, chunk by
chunk, from the man’s hand.

17
Buck was beaten but not broken. He knew
he had no chance against this man with the
club. He would never forget the lesson.
Days passed and other dogs came. He
watched as the man repeated the brutal fight
with each one. All dogs eventually knew their
place except one dog. That dog was killed in
the struggle for power.
Many men came and left after passing
money to the man in the red sweater. Each
time money was exchanged, the strangers took
a dog or two away with them. They never came
back and Buck feared for his future. He was
glad each time the strangers passed him over.
Yet, his time came. A small man with broken
English bought him. For $300, the man called
Perrault got Buck and Curly, a good-natured
Newfoundland. That was the last Buck saw of
the man in the red sweater.
Buck and Curly were taken on a ship and
turned over to a giant named Francois.

18
Although Buck developed no affection toward
Perrault and Francois, he grew to respect them.
On the decks of the ship, Buck and Curly
joined two other dogs, Dave and Spitz. Dave
simply ate and slept and didn’t bother much
with anyone. Spitz, on the other hand, was
always up to something. The first time he met
Buck, he smiled in a friendly manner while
stealing the food from Buck’s bowl.
Each day was like the one before except each
day grew colder. At last, the propeller grew
quiet. The Narwhal was filled with chatter and
excitement. Buck knew change was coming.
Francois leashed the dogs and brought them on
deck.
At the first step upon the cold surface,
Buck’s feet sank into a white, mushy something.
He sprang back with a snort.
More of the white stuff was falling through
the air. He sniffed it curiously. He licked some.
It bit like fire and was gone in an instant. This

19
puzzled him. He tried it again with the same
result. The men laughed and Buck felt
ashamed. This was his first snow and he had
no idea what it was.

20
3
The Law of Club and Fang

Buck’s first day in the North was like a


nightmare. Every second was filled with shock
and surprise. He had been jerked from
civilization and thrust into the wild. It was a
confusing and busy place to be.
Buck felt his life was at risk. He needed to
be alert at all times. For these men and dogs
were not proper men and dogs. They were
savages. All of them. They knew no law except
the law of club and fang.
Soon, Buck learned a lesson on how these
wolfish creatures fought. Curly, in her friendly
way, approached a husky dog the size of a wolf.
Without warning, the dog leaped up and sank
her teeth into Curly’s face.

21
This was the wolf’s way of fighting. Strike
and leap away. But there was more to it than
that. Thirty to forty huskies ran to them and
surrounded them in a silent circle. Buck made
nothing of the eager way they licked their
chops.
Curly rushed toward her attacker, who
struck again and leaped aside. Curly tumbled
off her feet and never again stood. This was
what the other huskies waited for. They closed
in around her as they snarled and yelped. She
was soon buried while screaming in agony
beneath their bodies.
It was so sudden. Buck stood in shock. In a
moment, Spitz ran out and looked as though he
had been laughing. Francois, carrying an ax,
approached the dogs. Two minutes from the
time Curly went down to the time the last dog
was clubbed off, she lay there dead, her body
torn to pieces. This scene often came back to
haunt Buck in his sleep.

22
So that is the way, thought Buck. No fair
play. Once down, that was the end of you. Buck
would see to it that he never went down. Spitz
ran by, mocking him with his tongue out. From
that moment on, Buck despised Spitz and felt
nothing but hatred for him.
Before Buck could recover from Curly’s
brutal killing, he received another shock.
Francois fastened a harness on him. Buck had
seen harnesses fastened to horses at Judge
Miller’s. He knew what would happen next.
He was to work.
Buck set out to drive Francois on the sled
through the forest and returned hauling a load
of firewood. His dignity was hurt, but he was
too wise to rebel. He did his best and made
remarkable progress in a short time. By the
time he returned to camp, he knew to stop at
“ho” and rush ahead at “mush.”
“That Buck learned quick. He pulled hard
and is quick as anything,” said Francois to
Perrault.
23
By evening, Perrault had returned with three
more dogs. Billee was a dog of good nature. His
brother, Joe, just wanted to be left alone, much
like the third dog brought in, Sol-leks.
Buck was happy to go to sleep that night.
When he entered the glowing tent for rest,
Perrault and Francois cursed and threw cooking
utensils at him. He fled to the outside once
again. Although he attempted to lie down and

24
sleep, the snow-covered ground drove him
shivering to his feet.
Miserable, he wandered among the tents. It
was no use. One place was as cold as the next.
He decided to see where the others had settled
down and circled the tent looking for them.
Suddenly, the snow gave way and something
wiggled beneath his feet. He jumped back
frightened at the unknown. But a friendly yelp
reassured him, so Buck went to investigate. It
was Billie curled up like a ball under the snow.
Another lesson. So this is how they do it?
Buck selected a spot, dug a hole, and soon the
space was heated by his body. He fell asleep
quickly, though he wrestled with bad dreams.
The next day, three more huskies were
added to the team. It wasn’t long before they
were harnessed and set out swinging up the trail
toward Dyea Canyon.
Buck was glad to be gone from the camp.
Although the work was hard, he didn’t hate it

25
at all. He was surprised at how all the dogs
came to life once the harness was on them.
This was true especially of Dave and Sol-leks.
Dave was the wheeler. He was the dog
nearest the sled. Buck pulled in front of him
and then came Sol-leks. The rest of the team
was strung out ahead, single file, to the leader,
which was Spitz.
Buck had been placed between Dave and
Sol-leks for good reason. They were fair
teachers and helped Buck learn the ropes. If
Buck made a mistake, they saw to it that he
didn’t make the same mistake again. By the end
of the day, Francois’s whip snapped less as the
dogs stayed on course and remained tangle free.
It had been a hard day’s run. They went up
the canyon, through Sheep Camp, and across
glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of feet deep.
Then, they passed over the great Chilcoot
Divide, which separates the salt water from the
fresh and guards the North. By nightfall, they
had made forty miles.
26
When it was time to rest for the evening, the
team pulled into a huge camp at the head of
Lake Bennett. Thousands of gold seekers were
building boats and preparing for the breakup of
the ice in the spring.
The team made poorer time from that day
on. It was hard work, and Buck was exhausted
at the end of each day. Perrault and Francois
would pitch camp after dark and eat their bits
of fish. Then the dogs would crawl into snowy
holes.
Buck was starving, and the salmon he got
each night didn’t fill him. At first, he was a
dainty eater. But his mates would rob him of
his food before he had the chance to finish it.
He couldn’t defend it. While he’d try to fend
off one or two dogs, more would be waiting to
have his fish disappear down their throats.
He learned yet another lesson. He must eat
as fast as his peers. He also learned to take what
didn’t belong to him. After seeing Pike, one of

27
the new dogs, steal bacon from Perrault’s plate,
Buck learned to do the same.
This first theft marked Buck as fit to survive
in the hostile Northland environment. He was
able to adapt and change to the conditions
around him. If he didn’t adjust his ways, he
knew it would mean certain death. His high
morals were compromised.
In the Southland, Buck was taught to respect
private property and personal feelings under
the laws of love. But under the law of club and
fang, those who attempted to follow those laws
would likely die. The man in the red sweater
had taught him that.
Buck had reasoned that this was what he
now must do to survive. He never again ran
from a fight. He didn’t steal for the joy in it
but because his stomach told him to. He didn’t
rob openly. Instead, he was sly about it out of
respect for club and fang. In short, the way he
acted was because it was easier to do these
things than to not do them.
28
The change in Buck happened quickly. His
muscles became hard as iron. He didn’t feel
ordinary pain. He could eat anything no matter
how loathsome it appeared. His senses of sight
and smell became keen. His hearing developed
so that he could hear the faintest sound in his
sleep and know if his life was at risk.
When ice collected between his toes, he
learned to bite it out with his teeth. When
thirsty, he broke the ice over the water hole by
first standing on his hind legs. Then, with all
his strength, he smashed down on the ice with
his front legs.
Buck’s instincts, long dead, were awakened
once again. The domesticated generations fell
from him. It was easy for him to learn to fight
with the quick wolf snap. His ancestors had
fought this way and now it was time for him to
do the same. These ways came back to him as
if they had never been completely lost. They
stirred the old life within him.

29
30
On cold nights, Buck pointed his nose at a
star and howled like a wolf. Those nights it was
as if his ancestors were pointing their noses at a
star and howling down through the centuries
through him.
Buck returned to the way nature meant him
to be. All because a man had found yellow
metal in the North and Manuel was a gardener’s
helper whose wages did not meet his gambling
needs.

31
4
The Invaders

Although Buck gained confidence, he didn’t


want the others to know. Not only did he not
pick fights with other dogs, but he avoided
them whenever possible. He was a patient,
smart dog. Although he didn’t like Spitz, he
worked hard to keep that a secret from Spitz.
On the other hand, Spitz never backed away.
His teeth were always ready to bite Buck. He
went out of his way to bully Buck and start a
fight with him. Both knew the fight would end
only in death of one or the other.
At the end of a certain day, they made camp
on the shore of Lake LeBarge. Driving snow
and darkness forced them to grope for their
campsite. The back of their camp was a wall,

32
which forced them to make campfire on the
edge of the lake itself. The fire soon thawed
down through the ice itself, leaving them in
complete darkness to eat.
Buck made his nest under the sheltering
rock. It was so snug and warm that he hated to
leave it to fetch the food from Francois’s hand.
After eating, Buck returned to his sleeping spot
only to find Spitz had settled there.
Until now, Buck had avoided trouble with
his enemy. But this was too much. The beast
in Buck roared. He sprang upon Spitz with a
fury that surprised them both.
Francois was surprised, too. He went to
settle the dogs down as they both circled each
other, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Then the unexpected happened. Out of the
darkness came a cry from Perrault. The sound
of a club pounding an animal could be heard.
The camp came alive with the shadows of
sulking forms.

33
Starving huskies were attacking! There were
four or five in all. Lured by the smell of food,
they had crept in while Spitz and Buck fought.
The two men sprang into action.
But the dogs, showing their teeth, were
overcome with hunger and crazed. Perrault
attacked the one with his head buried in the
grub box. The box overturned and it was clear
the animal was hurt, but he didn’t stop
scrambling for the bacon and bread on the
ground.
Clubs fell on the wild dogs. They yelped and
howled under the blows but struggled madly
until every crumb had been found and eaten.
Never had Buck seen such dogs! It seemed
as though their bones would burst through
what skin was left. They were mere skeletons.
Although smaller than Buck, their crazed
hunger and blazing eyes made them terrifying.
There was no opposing them.
The sled dogs were swept back against the
cliff. Three huskies went for Buck and his head
34
and shoulders were ripped and slashed. Buck
fell back as the others did.
Pike overcame a husky and Dave and Sol-
leks fought bravely by his side. Buck managed
to sink his teeth into his enemy’s throat. Blood
sprayed Buck and it caused greater fierceness in
him. As he flung himself against another
invader, he felt teeth sinking into his own neck.
It was Spitz attacking from the side.
Perrault and Francois hurried to save their
sled dogs. The wild beasts rolled back a bit
allowing Buck to run away. Pike and Dave
followed as did the rest of the team.
Later the nine-dog team gathered together
and sought shelter in the forest. They were a
sorry bunch. All were wounded in four or five
places. Dolly, the last dog to join the team, had
a severe throat injury. Joe had lost an eye.
Billie’s ear was chewed and shredded. Despite
their injuries, they managed to limp back to
camp the next day.

35
The invaders were nowhere to be seen.
Only Perrault and Francois were left. Both men
were miserable. Every last bit of food was
stolen from them. Nothing had escaped the
wild beasts. They had even eaten a pair of
Perrault’s moose-hide moccasins and two feet
from the end of Francois’s whip.
Francois looked the dogs up and down.
“Maybe some of those bites will make mad
dogs out of ours.”
Perrault shook his head. “They’ll be fine.
They have to be fine.”
With 400 miles still ahead, they couldn’t
afford to have madness break out among the
dogs.
Two hours later, the harness was fixed and
the wounded dogs took their places. Once
again, they were under way. The hardest part
of the trail was before them.

36
5
A Fight to the End

The Thirty Mile River was wide open. Its


wild water defied the frost. Six days were
required to cover the thirty terrible miles. Each
foot traveled risked the life of man and dog.
Perrault broke through the ice at least a
dozen times only to be saved by the long pole
he carried. Each time he fell through, they’d
have to stop to dry his clothes by a fire. Doing
all this at nearly fifty below zero was an almost
impossible task.
Nothing scared Perrault, which is why he
was chosen by the government as a courier. He
took great risks each time he led the team over
the thin parts of the ice. If a dog fell through,
he wouldn’t hesitate to rescue it.

37
Another time, Spitz broke through and
dragged the whole team up to Buck in with
him. Buck strained backward with all his
might. Behind Buck, Dave did the same. The
rim ice broke behind Francois and there was no
way to escape but up a cliff.
Perrault scaled the cliff and, by some miracle,
all dogs were hoisted one by one to the crest.
By nightfall, they had found a spot to go back
down to the river’s edge. The whole day only
saw a quarter mile gain.
By the time they made it to good ice, Buck
was exhausted. His feet were not as hard as the
huskies’ feet. They had softened in time from
the previous generations.
Buck limped about each day. Once camp
was made, he lay down like a dead dog. It was
too painful to move. Francois had to bring food
to Buck. Buck couldn’t walk to get it.
Francois took to rubbing Buck’s feet for a
half hour each evening after supper. He

38
sacrificed his own moccasins to make four
moccasins for Buck. Perrault had a good laugh
one evening when Francois forgot the
moccasins. Buck lay on his back, four feet
waving in the air. He refused to budge without
them.

Later his feet grew hard on the trail and the


worn-out shoes were tossed aside.

39
At the river one morning, Dolly suddenly
went mad. She let out a long, heartbreaking
wolf howl that spread fear in all the dogs. She
sprang straight for Buck.
Although Buck had never seen a mad dog, it
was quite clear he needed to run away from this
horror. He fled as Dolly, frothing and panting,
chased him. He ran what seemed like a great
distance.
Finally, he heard Francois calling him and ran
toward him. Francois was ready with ax in
hand. As Buck ran past, so did Dolly. As Dolly
did, the ax came down upon her head. Francois
had no other choice.
Buck staggered over to Francois’s sled.
Panting and exhausted, he sobbed for breath.
This was the opportunity Spitz had longed for.
He sprang on Buck and tore into his skin.
Francois came to Buck’s rescue once more. His
lash whipped about and Buck had the
satisfaction of seeing Spitz get his worst
whipping yet.
40
From then on, it was war between Spitz and
Buck. Spitz felt his leadership threatened by
Buck. All the other Southland dogs Spitz had
known were too weak for the trail. Yet Buck
was different. Spitz knew Buck matched him in
strength, savagery, and sneaky ways.
The clash for leadership couldn’t be avoided.
All the dogs knew that there would be a fight to
see who would lead the team. Buck wanted it.
His pride was strong and he knew he had
worked hard on the trail.
Indeed, Spitz was in charge of the dogs and
he felt he worked just as hard. As leader, it was
his job to punish those that couldn’t keep up.
This is why he feared Buck. Buck was strong,
and now he challenged Spitz’s leadership at
every turn. The two began to fight every
chance they got.
Buck started to cause fights between Spitz
and the others only so he could come in and get
between them. Buck was smart about it. He
would only do it when Francois wasn’t around.
41
One day, when chasing a rabbit through the
snow, Buck and Spitz came to blows once again.
In a flash, Buck knew that the time had come.
It would be a fight to the death.
As they circled about, they snarled with their
ears back, each watched for an advantage. Buck
sensed a feeling of familiarity. It was in the
white woods, the moonlight, and the thrill of
battle. Buck felt this scene had happened
before. It was the way it was and the way it
should be.
Spitz was a practiced fighter. Bitter, but not
blind, rage was his. He never rushed until he
was prepared to receive a rush. He never
attacked until he first defended an attack.
In vain, Buck tried to sink his teeth into
Spitz’s neck. His fangs were met with Spitz’s
fangs. Lips were cut and blood sprayed. Buck
took to rushing, but it didn’t work. Each time,
Spitz would leap away.

42
Spitz wasn’t hurt, yet Buck was bleeding and
panting. As Buck panted, Spitz took to rushing.
The fight was growing desperate and a wolfish
circle had gathered to attack whoever fell first.
Buck had something that Spitz didn’t—
imagination. He fought by instinct but could
also outsmart his enemy. He rushed Spitz but
at the last second, swept low to the snow.
Buck’s teeth closed on Spitz’s left front leg.
There was a crunch of breaking bone. Buck
repeated his trick, this time breaking the bones
of the right front leg. Despite the pain, Spitz
struggled madly to keep up.
Then he noticed the silent circle, the
gleaming eyes, and dangling tongues. He had
been a part of these circles many times.
However, this time, he was the one the others
waited for to fall.
There was no hope for Spitz. Buck was
unstoppable. He would show no mercy. One

43
last move from Buck was all it took. The circle
moved in and Spitz disappeared from view.
Buck stood and looked on. He defeated his
enemy and proved to be the strongest among
them. It felt good.

44
6
A New Leader

The next day, Francois saw Buck’s wounds


and noticed Spitz was missing. “Look here,
Perrault. That Spitz is tough. Look at Buck’s
neck.”
Perrault looked at the cuts. “Buck is stronger.
That’s why Spitz isn’t here.”
Francois nodded. “We’ll make good time
now. No more Spitz means no more trouble.”
Francois got up to harness the dogs. Buck
trotted to the front where Spitz would have
been. Francois, not noticing him, had brought
Sol-leks up to the front. Buck sprang on Sol-
leks in a fury, driving him back.
“Go away, Buck,” said Francois. “Sol-leks is
the lead dog now.”

45
Francois took Buck by the scruff of his neck
and dragged him to the side. When he turned
his back, Buck once again went to the front of
the line and nudged Sol-leks out of position.
Francois was angry. “I’ll fix you, Buck!” He
moved forward holding a club.
Buck remembered the man in the red
sweater. He slowly backed away as he snarled
with rage. He never took his eyes off the club.
This time, he knew better.
When at last they called Buck to take his
usual place, Buck refused to come forward. He
wanted the leadership. He had earned it and
he wouldn’t be happy until he got it.
Buck darted about the camp, always careful
to stay far from the club. For an hour, Perrault
and Francois chased Buck. He didn’t try to run
away. He was letting them know that he would
settle for nothing but the position he’d earned.
Perrault looked at his watch. “We’re losing
time. We should have been on the trail an hour
ago.”
46
Francois snorted and walked over to Sol-leks.
He unfastened the harness and put him back in
his old place. Then, he called to Buck. Buck
trotted over and swung around into position at
the head of the team. His harness was fastened,
the sled broke out, and with both men running,
they dashed out on to the river trail.
In no time, Buck proved to be superior to
Spitz. This surprised Francois and Perrault. He

47
immediately worked the dogs who had become
lazy under Spitz. Dave and Sol-leks didn’t
mind the change of leadership. They just cared
about the work. Buck had to lick the rest of
them into shape.
The general tone of the team shaped up
immediately. Once again, the dogs worked as
one. Soon, two more dogs, Teek and Koona,
were added. Buck broke them in with great
speed. Perrault and Francois had never
witnessed such speed before.
“He’s worth every penny we paid for him,”
said Francois.
Perrault disagreed. “Nah, he’s worth more
than that. Much, much more.”
Perrault was especially pleased with the gains
his team made each day. The Thirty Mile River,
which had taken them ten days to cross on the
way in, now took just one day. Amazing! They
ran with record speed.
Each day for forty days they averaged forty
miles. When they finally stopped to rest and
48
brag about their team, the men got orders that
would send them on without the dogs.
Francois threw his arms around Buck and
wept over him. That was the last Buck ever saw
of Francois and Perrault. Like other men, they
left Buck’s life for good.
A Scottish man took charge of Buck and his
teammates. With a dozen other dog teams by
his side, they started back over the trail to
Dawson.
There was no light running now. Record
times would be impossible, for now each day
had a heavy load in the sled. This sled was filled
with letter upon letter that carried news from
the world to the men who searched for gold.
Although Buck did not like it, he did his
work well. The work was boring. Each day was
the same. There was never any change. Buck
would wake up as the fires were being built, eat
breakfast, and then a man would harness him.
All this happened quickly and they’d be on
their way before dawn.
49
At night, they would make camp again.
While some pitched tents and others started
fires, the dogs were fed. The dogs loved this
part of the day. They’d all gather, eat, and then
lie around together.
During this time, there was lots of fighting.
After winning several fights, Buck proved to be
the strongest of them all. He was so feared that
when he showed his teeth, the others got out of
his way. That was the way he liked it.
But most of all, Buck loved to lie near the
fire and dream of the past. Sometimes he
thought of his days at Judge Miller’s house. He
thought fondly of the swimming tank and
Ysabel and Toots.
But more often, Buck thought about the
man in the red sweater, the death of Curly, and
his great fight with Spitz. He was not homesick
though. Such memories had no power of him.
What did have a strange power over him
were the instincts he felt in the wild. They

50
were growing stronger as each day passed. They
made him feel alive again.
It was a hard trip. The heavy work wore the
dogs down. They were weak and thin when
they arrived in Dawson. Due to the difficult
journey, they should have rested a week.
Maybe even ten days.
However, just two days later, they were off
down the Yukon River loaded with letters again.
The drivers grumbled. The dogs were
exhausted. To make matters worse, it snowed
every day. The soft snow meant the dogs had to
work harder to pull the sled.
As hard as the trip was, the drivers were fair
and did their best for the animals. Each night,
the dogs were looked after first. They ate
before the drivers ate. No man was allowed to
sleep until he had looked after the feet of the
dogs he drove. Still, the dogs grew weaker.
Since the beginning of winter, they had
traveled 1,800 miles, dragging sleds the whole

51
distance. Eighteen hundred miles is tough for
even the strongest of dogs. Billie cried and
whimpered in his sleep each night. Joe was
meaner than ever.
But it was Dave who suffered most of all.
He became angrier and sadder. Once he was
fed each night, he didn’t get back on his feet
until he was harnessed the next morning. He
would cry out in pain while running. The driver
examined him but couldn’t find anything
wrong.
By the time they reached their next stop,
Dave was so weak that he fell repeatedly in the
harness. The Scot had no choice but to take
him out of the team. Sol-leks would now move
to his spot.
The Scottish man wanted to let Dave rest
and have him run free behind the sled. Sick as
he was, Dave resented this. He whimpered,
grunted, and growled as his harness was
unfastened. Seeing Sol-leks in the position he

52
had held and served in for so long broke his
heart. He couldn’t bear that another dog would
be doing his work.
When the sled started up again, Dave ran in
the snow barking at Sol-leks. He tried pushing
him out of the way. The driver tried to keep
Dave away from Sol-leks but couldn’t. Dave
insisted on running in the soft snow where the
going was more difficult. He fought hard but
finally collapsed. He lay there and howled as
the other sleds sped past them.
The driver paused for a moment to get a
light for his pipe from the man behind them.
When he came back and started the dogs, the
dogs ran ahead and then stopped suddenly.
Each one looked surprised and confused. The
driver was confused and surprised, too. The
sled had not moved.
The driver called the other men over to see
what had happened. Dave had bitten through
the harness that connected Sol-leks to the other

53
dogs and the sled. He stood right in front of
the sled.
Dave pleaded with his eyes to stay there.
The driver didn’t know what to do. His friends
warned him that a dog’s heart could break if
denied work. They spoke of dogs they knew
who had been unharnessed due to age or injury
and had died soon after.
It was decided that Dave should return to
the harness. The men knew he didn’t have
much time left. They wanted his last days to be
spent harnessed and happy.
When Dave was put back in with the dogs,
he pulled hard though the snow. Yet, he
continued to cry out in pain. Several times he
fell down and the sled rode over him. He held
out until the camp was reached. His driver
made a place for him by the fire.
When morning came, Dave was too weak to
travel. At harness time, he tried to crawl to his
driver but couldn’t. His strength had left him.

54
The last Buck saw of Dave was as he lay gasping
in the snow. But the team could hear his sad
howling until it passed beyond the river.

55
7
New Masters

Thirty days after they left Dawson, the team


arrived in Skaguay. They carried the Salt Water
mail. The dogs were in horrible shape. They
were worn out and worn down.
Buck’s weight had gone from 140 to 115
pounds. There wasn’t a dog that wasn’t
footsore and limping. There was no spring or
bounce in any of them. Every muscle and
every cell was tired.
In less than five months they had traveled
2,500 miles. With only five days rest over the
last 1,800 miles, they could barely move. When
they arrived in Skaguay, they were on their last
legs. They could barely pull the sled.

56
The drivers were certain they’d get a long
rest. They were wrong. The mail was
overflowing and couldn’t wait. While many
men rushed to search for gold in the Klondike,
many wives and children were left behind.
That meant mail. Lots of it.
The men received their orders: continue on
with the mail. They received new dogs to take
the place of their tired team. Orders came
down that the old team should be sold.
The dogs rested for three days. On the
fourth, two men bought them, harness and all.
The men called each other Charles and Hal.
Charles was a middle-aged man and had
weak, watery eyes. His black mustache twisted
up at the ends. Hal was about nineteen or
twenty and carried a gun and a hunting knife
strapped to his belt. Both men looked out of
place here and many wondered why they had
come.
Buck saw the men talking and noticed
money pass between them. He knew that the
57
Scottish man and the drivers were passing out
of his life, just like Perrault and Francois and the
others had done before.
When the team arrived at their camp, Buck
saw dirty dishes everywhere. The tent was only
half stretched. It was a mess. He also saw a
woman named Mercedes. She was Charles’s
wife and Hal’s sister.
Buck watched them as the men took down
the tent and loaded the sled. It was a chaotic
scene. They rolled the tent into a bundle three
times as large as it should have been. They
packed the tin dishes as they were—dirty.
The three talked and argued constantly.
Mercedes would direct them to put a load on
the back of the sled. Once done, she’d change
her mind and have the men move it to the
front. She’d often have them rearrange the load
a third time.
Three men from a nearby tent came over.
They grinned and smirked.

58
59
“I wouldn’t bring that tent along,” said a man.
Mercedes screeched. “How would I manage
without it?”
“It’s springtime. The cold weather is behind
us,” said the man.
Mercedes ignored him and directed Hal and
Charles to load it on top.
“Think it will ride?” asked another man.
“Why shouldn’t it?” demanded Charles.
“It seems a little top heavy, that’s all,” said
the man.
“Of course,” said the first man, “the dogs
can’t hike all day with that load behind them.”
Charles grew angry. To prove them wrong,
he yelled out, “Mush!”
The dogs rushed forward, strained for a few
minutes, and then relaxed. They couldn’t move
the sled.
“The lazy dogs!” Hal shouted. He raised his
whip. “I’ll show them!”
Mercedes cried out, “Hal! You mustn’t!” She
grabbed hold of the whip.
60
“You don’t know anything about these dogs,”
said Hal. “I need to whip them to get anything
out of them. That’s their way.”
“They’re weak for water,” said one of the
men. “Tuckered out. They need a rest.”
Again Hal’s whip fell on the dogs. Still, after
much effort, the sled wouldn’t move.
Mercedes dropped down on her knees next
to Buck. “You poor, poor dears. Why don’t you
pull harder? Then you wouldn’t be whipped.”
Buck didn’t like her at all.
One of the men who had been clenching his
teeth spoke up. “It’s not that I care what
happens to you, but for the sake of those dogs,
help them by breaking out the sled. The
runners are frozen. Throw your weight against
the gee pole, right and left, and break it out.”
Following this advice, Hal broke out the
runners. The overloaded sled forged ahead.
Buck and the dogs struggled under Hal’s mean
treatment. A hundred yards ahead, the path
turned and sloped toward the main street. Hal
61
didn’t know how to keep the top-heavy sled
from tipping over. As the dogs ran around the
bend, the sled spilled over.
Hal cried out for them to stop, but they were
filled with rage and continued running. Hal
tumbled out of the sled and landed on his
shoulder. The dogs dashed up the street,
scattering the rest of the load along the way.
Some friendly villagers caught the dogs and
gathered the scattered belongings. They also
advised Hal and Charles, “If you expect to reach
Dawson, you need half the load and twice the
number of dogs you have now.”
Although the grumpy men didn’t want to,
they pitched the tent and went through their
belongings. Canned goods were thrown away
first.
“Canned foods on a trail?” said one man. “No
wonder you’re so top heavy.” The men laughed.
Blankets were thrown on the ground next.
The men chuckled again. “Blankets are for
hotels!”
62
The men urged Charles, Hal, and Mercedes
to do away with tents and dishes. “Who’s going
to wash those dishes anyway?” they asked. “Do
you think you’re traveling on a fancy train?”
Mercedes cried when her clothes were
dumped. She cried when the men dumped
their clothes, too. She pleaded with the men. It
didn’t help. Finally, she wiped her tears and, in
spite, started to throw away what little clothes
they actually needed!
Although lessened, it was still an incredible
load. Charles and Hal bought six dogs that
evening. They now had fourteen in all. But not
all dogs are made for pulling sleds. These
newcomers were weak on the trail even though
they had been trained.
Buck and the rest of the dogs did not like the
new dogs. Buck quickly taught the dogs what
they should not do, but he couldn’t teach them
what they should do. These dogs were
frightened of the strange environment and the
treatment they received.
63
With fourteen worn-out dogs and lots of trail
to cover, the outlook was grim. The two men,
however, were cheerful. They were quite proud
that they had fourteen dogs. They took great
satisfaction in themselves when they noticed
that they had more dogs than any other sled on
the trail!
There was a reason the others did not have
fourteen dogs dragging their sleds. A sled could
not carry the food fourteen dogs needed. But
Charles and Hal did not know this. They had
figured everything out on paper. They planned
the amount of food they thought they’d need.
It all seemed so simple to them.
Late the next morning, Buck led the long
team up the street. There was nothing lively
about them. They were starting out dead tired.
Buck had covered this trail four times already.
He knew what was ahead and felt bitter and
angry. His heart was no longer in his work.
None of the dogs’ hearts was. The new dogs

64
were shy and scared, and the old team had no
confidence in their drivers.
Buck knew that they could not depend on
these three people. They could not do anything
and it was obvious that they could not learn.
They were lazy and disorganized. It took them
half the night to set up camp and half the
morning to take it down.
Charles and Hal rushed to load the sled so
much that they’d often have to stop and
rearrange the load. Some days, they never
made it out of camp. On most days, they never
made ten miles. They were behind schedule.
The dog food was running low.
When the dogs slowed down, Hal and
Charles fed them more. Hal felt they weren’t
eating enough and didn’t pay attention to how
much food was left for the long journey. Even
Mercedes stole fish and fed them when no one
was looking.

65
It wasn’t food that the dogs needed. They
needed rest, for the load sapped every last bit of
their energy and strength.
When Hal finally realized that the dog food
was already half gone so early into the trip, he
cut down the rations. At the same time, he
tried to increase the miles each day. It was easy
to give them less food. However, no one could
make them travel faster.

66
Charles, Hal, and Mercedes fought, which
often delayed their travels each day. Not only
did these people not know how to work dogs,
they didn’t know how to work themselves.
Since the new dogs needed more food than
the huskies, Hal and Charles got rid of them one
by one. The realities of Arctic travel became
too harsh for them.
Mercedes no longer cared for any dog. She
cared only for herself. No matter how tired she
was, she was never too tired to argue.
The men lost all patience with Mercedes and
with each other. They were sore and stiff. The
more their bodies ached, the harsher they
treated one another.

67
8
John Thornton

Mercedes insisted on riding in the sled at all


times. She weighed 120 pounds, and the
weight added to the struggles of the dogs.
Finally, the dogs fell down and couldn’t move
another inch.
“Get off that sled,” said Hal.
Mercedes wouldn’t budge.
“The dogs can’t carry your load,"
complained Charles.
Again, Mercedes wouldn’t budge.
Hal and Charles picked Mercedes up and
put her down on the trail. Still, she didn’t
budge.
They decided to teach her a lesson and left
her there. Still, she refused to move.

68
Finally, after the men traveled three miles,
they turned around, found her, and placed her
back on the sled.
From this point on, they did nothing but
treat each other badly. They treated the dogs
even worse. Hal and Charles took to clubbing
the dogs and whipping them more frequently.
When the food ran out, Hal traded his knife for
some frozen meat. It was a poor substitute for
food and felt like lead in the dog’s stomachs.
Through it all, Buck staggered along at the
head of the team. He felt as if he were in a
nightmare. He pulled when he could. When
he couldn’t, he fell down and remained there
until blows from the whip or club forced him to
his feet again.
The gloss had gone out of Buck’s beautiful
coat. His hair was tangled and covered with
dried blood. He was so skinny that each rib and
bone of his body was outlined through his skin.
It was heartbreaking, but Buck’s heart was
unbreakable.
69
The six other remaining dogs were skeletons
like Buck. And like Buck, none had any
strength or spark left. The pain of their beatings
were dull and distant. It was if they weren’t
even alive. They were simply bags of bones.
When the sled stopped, the dogs dropped
down in their harnesses like dead dogs. Only
when the club fell upon them repeatedly,
would they stagger to their feet and move
forward.
One day, Billie fell and couldn’t rise. Koona
fell the next day. Both were cut out of their
harnesses and left to die. Only five dogs
remained to pull the heavy load.
Buck still led the team, but he no longer
enforced discipline. He was too blind with
weakness and only managed to stay on the trail
by the dim feel of his feet.
Although beautiful spring weather was upon
them, the dogs and humans didn’t notice. Each
day, the sun rose earlier and set later. It was

70
dawn by three in the morning and stayed light
until nine at night. The whole day long was a
blaze of sunshine.
The ghost of winter was awakened. The sap
was rising in the pines. The willows were
bursting out in young buds. Crickets sang in
the night. Creepy, crawling things rustled forth
during the day. Squirrels chattered. Bird sang.
From every hill came the trickle of running
water. All things were thawing, bending, and
snapping.
The Yukon was straining to break the ice
loose. Air holes formed in the frozen ground
and thin sections of ice on the rivers fell
through.
With Mercedes crying, Hal and Charles
fighting, and the dogs falling, they staggered
into John Thornton’s camp.
Thornton’s camp was located at the mouth
of White River. When they stopped, every dog
fell down as if dead.

71
Mercedes dried her eyes and looked at
Thornton. Charles sat on a log to rest. Hal did
all of the talking. Thornton was whittling the
last touches on an ax handle he had made from
a stick of birch. He whittled and listened.
When asked for advice, he gave it knowing
none of them would listen.
“At the last camp, they told us that the ice
was breaking in the trail here. The bottom was
dropping out of the river and the best thing for
us to do would have been to wait,” Hal said.
“But look at us. We made it here to the White
River.” He sneered.
“They were right,” said Thornton. “The
bottom’s likely to drop out at any moment.
Only fools could have made it. You were lucky.
I’ll tell you the truth. I wouldn’t risk my life
on that ice for all the gold in Alaska.”
“That’s because you’re not a fool, I suppose,”
said Hal. “All the same, we’re going on to
Dawson.” He uncoiled his whip. “Get up there,
Buck. Mush on!”
72
Thornton went on whittling. He knew that
getting through to one fool was hard enough.
But these three fools? Impossible!
But Buck and the dogs did not get up. The
whip snapped again and finally Sol-leks was the
first to crawl to his feet. Teek followed. Joe
came next, yelping with pain. Pike made the
effort but fell over twice. It wasn’t until his
third attempt that he stood.
Buck made no effort. He lay quietly where
he had fallen. The whip bit into his skin over
and over again. He didn’t whine or struggle.
Thornton’s eyes moistened.
This was the first time Buck had failed. This
alone was enough to drive Hal into a rage. He
put down his whip and picked up his club.
Although Hal pounded the club into him, Buck
refused to move. He had the feeling of doom.
John Thornton rose and knocked Hal to the
ground. Mercedes screamed. Charles looked
on but stayed on the log. He was too sore and
too lazy to move.
73
Thornton stood over Buck too enraged to
speak. Finally, he choked out, “If you strike that
dog again, I’ll kill you.”
“It’s my dog,” Hal replied as he wiped the
blood from his mouth. “Get out of my way or
I’ll fix you. We’re going to Dawson.”
Thornton stood between Hal and Buck. He
had no intentions of backing away. “Back away,”

74
warned Thornton. “I said I’d kill you and I
meant it. Leave the dog alone.”
Hal took out his hunting knife. Mercedes
screamed when Thornton knocked it out of his
hand with his ax handle. The knife flew to the
ground. Thornton picked up the knife and with
two strokes, cut Buck out of his harness.
Hal had no fight left in him. Besides, he had
enough problems with his sister and Charles.
He figured that Buck was too close to dying to
be of much help anyway. A few minutes later,
Hal, Charles, Mercedes, and the dogs pulled out
of camp and down the river.
Buck heard them go and raised his head.
Pike was leading. Sol-leks was at the wheel and
Joe and Teek were between. They were limping
and staggering. Mercedes was in the sled as
usual. Hal guided with the gee pole while
Charles stumbled along the rear.
As Buck watched them, Thornton knelt
beside him and rubbed his hands over his body.

75
“No broken bones,” said Thornton. “There’s
many bruises and a terrible state of starvation,
but no broken bones.”
Thornton looked in Buck’s direction. The
two watched as the sled crawled along over the
ice. Suddenly, they saw its back end drop down.
Mercedes screamed. They saw Charles turn
and make one last attempt to run back, but the
ice gave way. The bottom dropped out of the
trail. All of them disappeared in a gaping hole.
Thornton and Buck looked at each other.
Buck licked Thornton’s hand to show how
grateful he was.

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9
Devoted Friends

When Thornton’s feet froze the December


before, his partners had made him comfortable
and left him to get well. They traveled up the
river to find a raft headed for Dawson. He was
still limping a little at the time he rescued Buck.
But the limp soon left him as the weather grew
warmer.
Like Thornton, Buck also did his healing in
the warm, sunny weather. After 3,000 miles, a
long rest was what Buck needed. He slowly
won back his strength. His muscles swelled out
and the flesh came back to cover his bones.
Two dogs had joined them on these lazy
days. Skeet was a little Irish Setter who found
Buck at his lowest point. Like a cat who washes

77
her kittens, she cleaned Buck’s wounds each
day. She always kept one eye on Buck. Nig was
a huge, black dog. He was half bloodhound and
half deerhound. Both dogs were good-natured.
To Buck’s surprise, neither dog felt any
jealousy toward him. They seemed to share the
kindness and gentleness of Thornton. Thornton
clearly loved all of these dogs. As Buck grew
stronger, he romped and played with Skeet and
Nig.
Buck felt a genuine love for the first time.
He had never experienced it at Judge Miller’s
down in the Santa Clara Valley. When he
hunted with the Judge’s sons, it felt more like
a partnership. With the grandsons, he felt like
a guardian. With the Judge, he felt friendship.
But with Thornton, Buck felt love.
This man not only saved his life but was an
ideal master. Other men took care of their dogs
due to a sense of duty. It was something they
had to do. Some did it for a business venture.

78
Thornton was different. He did it because he
wanted to. He did it because he looked at the
dogs as if they were his children. He treated
them as such. Their days were filled with long
talks and lots of play.
Thornton had a way of taking Buck’s head
between his hands and resting his own head on
Buck’s. He’d shake Buck back and forth as he
spoke lovingly to him. Buck knew no greater
joy than this rough embrace. With each shake
back and forth, Buck’s heart would shake with
sheer love for his master.
In turn, Buck would clamp his teeth down
on Thornton’s hand. He would bite hard
enough to leave teeth marks behind. This was
how Buck showed his love for Thornton and
that’s exactly how Thornton saw it.
Although Buck went wild with happiness
whenever Thornton touched him, he didn’t go
looking for it. Skeet was different. She would
shove her nose under Thornton’s hand and

79
nudge until petted. Nig would rest his head on
Thornton’s knee until a scratch landed upon it.
Buck, however, was just happy to admire
Thornton at a distance. He could spend hours
staring at Thornton. Thornton would always
sense Buck’s loving gaze and return it.
For a long time after his rescue, Buck never
wanted to let Thornton out of his sight. Buck
followed at his heels wherever he went. Buck
was afraid that he would disappear just like all
the others who had come before him.
Even when he slept, Buck would often have
nightmares of Thornton leaving him. When
this happened, Buck would creep through the
chill of the night to the flap of the tent. He’d
stand over his master and listen to the sound of
his breathing. It was only then could Buck be
sure his master was still with him.
Despite his love for Thornton, Buck’s wild
side continued to call him. He was faithful and
loyal to Thornton, yet he longed to run free.

80
Buck was getting older and becoming more
like a wild dog. It was as if he came in from the
wild to sit around Thornton’s fire. He appeared
before Thornton as a broad-breasted dog, white
fanged and long furred. But always his ways of
half wolves and wild wolves lay near the
surface.
After a while, Buck felt an urge to run into
the forest. He didn’t know where he ran to or
why he felt such a need to run. But he knew he
had to do it. Then, after a time, he would
remember how much he loved John Thornton
and he’d run like the wind back to camp.
His love for Thornton grew each day. He
didn’t care at all for any other man. Travelers
would pet him, but he felt cold under their
touch. He would often just get up and walk
away from those who praised him. Unless the
kind words came from Thornton, Buck paid no
attention.
When Thornton’s partners, Hans and Pete,
arrived on the raft, Buck ignored them. He
81
refused to acknowledge them until he learned
they were friends of Thornton’s. After that, he
simply felt as though he had to put up with
them. His only concern was for his master.
It didn’t take Hans and Pete long to know
where they stood with Buck. They kept their
distance and played with Skeet and Nig instead.
Buck’s love for Thornton grew stronger as
each season passed. He was the only man that
Buck would ever allow to put a pack on his
back when they traveled. Nothing was too
great for Buck to do as long as the command
came from Thornton.
One day, the men and dogs were resting on
a steep cliff. The cliff fell away straight down to
a bedrock at least 300 feet below. Thornton sat
at the edge with Buck at his shoulders.
“How devoted do you think Buck is to me?”
asked Thornton.
“I’ve never seen a dog so loyal. So taken with
his master,” said Hans.

82
Pete nodded in agreement. “I agree. Buck is
yours and yours alone.”
Buck’s eyes never left Thornton. Thornton
swept his arm out over the cliff. “Jump, Buck!”
As Buck started to jump, the three men
pulled him back in.
“It’s scary how he listens to you,” said Pete,
catching his breath.
Thornton looked at Buck. “It is scary and
splendid and terrible all at the same time.”
“I sure wouldn’t want to be the man who
lays a hand on you,” said Pete, nodding his head
toward Buck.
“By jingo!” Hans shouted. “The man who
messes with you is indeed a sorry man.”

83
10
An Amazing Feat

By the year’s end, Pete and Hans’s worries


came true. During their travels, they met an
evil man named Black Burton. He had been
picking a fight with a newcomer at the hotel
bar.
As Buck rested in the corner with his eyes
fixed on his master, Thornton stepped in to
break up the fight. Burton struck out without
warning, and he knocked Thornton to the
ground.
In a flash, Buck was on all fours. No one
heard any barking or yelping. It was a sound
that could only be described as a roar. They saw
Buck rise up in the air and grab Burton’s throat.

84
Buck tore open Burton’s throat and soon the
crowd was upon Buck beating him down. He
was driven off Burton and brought outside
where he prowled up and down. He attempted
to rush in and finish Burton off for good but
was forced down.
A meeting was held. Since all agreed that
Burton started the fight, Buck was allowed to
remain free. From that day on, his name spread
across every camp in Alaska.
In the fall, Buck saved Thornton’s life once
again in a different way. The three partners
were moving a small, narrow boat down a
rough stretch of rapids on the Forty-Mile Creek.
Hans and Pete moved about the bank
holding a rope that was attached to the boat.
Thornton remained in the boat steering and
shouting directions at the men. Buck was on
the bank, and he never took his eyes off of
Thornton. He feared something terrible could
happen at any moment.

85
There was a rough spot where rocks jutted
out into the river. The ropes got caught up in
these rocks and the boat tipped over. Thornton
was thrown into the water and headed
downstream to the worst part of the rapids. It
was in this stretch of rapids that no man could
survive.
Buck sprang into action. He jumped into the
water and managed to catch up with Thornton
some 300 yards away. When he felt Thornton
grasp his tail, Buck started swimming back to
shore. The progress forward was slow because
the rapids were too strong.
Thornton knew the battle that was ahead of
them. He knew he couldn’t make it to shore
so he reached out and caught hold of the
slippery rocks that he had slammed into.
Buck continued downstream. Due to the
strong currents, he was unable to swim back to
his master. He struggled desperately but
couldn’t find his way back. In a few minutes, he

86
87
could hear Thornton’s voice rise above the roar
of the river.
“Swim, Buck. Swim!”
Thornton’s voice gave him the strength he
needed to continue on. He swam toward the
voice but it was too far away. When he looked
to the left, he saw Pete and Hans motioning
him toward them. Buck slowly made his way
over the gushing water. Eventually, Pete and
Hans pulled him ashore.
Pete and Hans knew that Thornton couldn’t
hold on to the slippery rocks much longer.
They ran up to the part of the bank where
Thornton was clinging to the rock. They
attached a rope to Buck.
Buck jumped in and was determined to
succeed in his rescue this time. He swam until
the current pulled him toward Thornton. It
was hard work and more than once, Buck was
pulled under. He questioned his own survival.
But then he heard Thornton’s voice once
again, which acted like an electric shock. Buck
88
swam full force striking Thornton like a
battering ram. Thornton clasped his hands
around the shaggy neck as Pete and Hans pulled
the rope closer to them.
Minutes later, both Buck and Thornton were
upon the dry land. Thornton was bruised and
battered and Buck had three broken ribs.
“That settles it,” said Thornton once he
caught his breath. “We’ll camp right here.”
And camp they did until Buck’s ribs healed
and he was able to travel.

That winter in Dawson, Buck did something


amazing. Perhaps it wasn’t as heroic as saving
his master’s life, but it was something that
would put his name yet higher on the totem
pole of Alaskan fame.
It happened when the men made a trip to
the East where miners had not yet appeared.
The conversation took place in the Eldorado
Saloon. It was here that all men bragged about
their dogs.
89
Many directed their boasting toward John
Thornton after hearing never-ending tales about
Buck. These men didn’t see anything special in
Buck and started arguing with Thornton.
“My dog can start a sled with 500 pounds
and walk off with it,” said one man.
“That’s nothing,” said another man. “My dog
can carry 600 pounds and walk off with it.”
“Big deal,” said Thornton. He looked over at
Buck. “My Buck can pull a sled with 1,000
pounds on it.”
“And break out of the ice and walk with it
for 100 yards?” asked the first man.
Thornton acted coolly. “And break it out and
walk off with it for 100 yards.”
“Well, well,” said a man named Matthewson
for all to hear. “I’ve got $1,000 that says he
can’t.” He slammed a sack of gold dust on the
bar. “Here it is.”
Nobody spoke. Thornton’s bluff had been
called. He felt a flush creeping up his face. His

90
tongue had tricked him. He spoke too fast.
Could Buck walk off with 1,000 pounds? That
was half a ton! He had no idea, but he did have
great faith in Buck’s strength. Still, what he
didn’t have was $1,000. Nor did Hans or Pete.
“I’ve got a sled outside with twenty fifty-
pound sacks of flour on it,” said Matthewson.
“That’s 1,000 pounds.” He glanced around the
room and pointed to Thornton. “What’s he
waiting for? Let’s get started!”
Thornton didn’t answer. He didn’t know
what to say. He glanced from face to face and
stopped when he saw Jim O’Brien, an old
friend. “Can you lend me $1,000?” he asked
almost in a whisper.
“Sure,” answered O’Brien as he plunked
down a sack next to Matthewson’s. “But I don’t
know if I have the faith in your dog.”
The Eldorado emptied out onto the street.
Several hundred men gathered around the sled
in the sixty below zero weather. Matthewson’s

91
sled had been standing for several hours in the
cold and its runners had frozen to the hard-
packed snow.
Men placed bets on whether Buck could
achieve what was promised. Not one man
believed him capable of the feat.
Thornton saw the team of ten dogs curled
up in the snow before the sled. It was then that
Thornton knew just how impossible this task
would be. Although worried, his fighting spirit
was alive.
The team of ten dogs were unhitched and
Buck, in his own harness, was put into the sled.
Buck could feel excitement in the air and knew
he must do something great for Thornton.
The crowd admired the fine shape Buck was
in. He was back up to his 140 pounds and his
coat was furry and shone like silk.
A voice cried out, “I’ll give you $800 for him
right now.”
Thornton shook his head.

92
Matthewson spoke up. “How about we raise
our bet? I got 600 more dollars.”
Thornton got caught up in the excitement.
He, Pete, and Hans got the money.
Thornton stepped to Buck’s side.
“You can’t be near him when he pulls,” said
Matthewson. “Give him plenty of room.”
Thornton knelt down next to Buck. He took
Buck’s head in his hands and rested his cheek
on Buck. He did not playfully shake him.
Instead, he whispered, “As you love me, Buck.
As you love me.”
The crowd noticed a change in Buck. They
saw the commitment in his eyes. Buck grabbed
Thornton’s hand between his jaws and bit
down, leaving teeth marks. It was Buck
showing his love.
Thornton stepped back. “Now, Buck!”
Buck tightened the harness and let it go loose
for several inches. This was the way he had
learned.
“Gee!” Thornton’s voice yelled out.
93
Buck swung to the right and plunged
forward. The load shook and a crackling from
under the runners could be heard.
“Haw!” Thornton commanded.
This time, Buck leaned toward the left. The
crackling turned into snapping. The sled was
broken out! The gathered men held their
breath.
“Mush!”
Thornton’s command cracked like a gunshot.
Buck threw himself forward tightening the
harness straps. His chest was low to the ground.
His head reached forward and hung down
while his feet flew like mad.
The sled lurched forward. One inch. Two
inches. Three inches. The sled gained speed
and soon moved steadily along.
The men gasped as Buck reached 100 yards.
Cheers and chants rose to a steady roar. Buck
stopped at Thornton’s command. Men threw
their hats and mittens into the air as they
rushed toward Buck.
94
“I’ll give you $1,000 for him,” came a distant
shout. “Make that $1,400.”
Thornton took Buck’s head in his hands and
shook him back and forth. Buck never felt so
happy and full of love. He clamped down on
Thornton’s hand leaving teeth marks.

Thornton looked at the men who had


gathered. “I wouldn’t trade Buck for all the
gold in Alaska.”
95
11
AWolf Brother

By winning the bet, Buck made it possible


for his master to pay off debts and travel with
his partners into the East. Thornton was lured
by a fabled lost mine. Many men sought it.
Few found it. Of those few who did, more than
a few never returned from the journey.
Thornton, Hans, Pete, Buck, and half a dozen
other dogs sledded seventy miles up the Yukon.
They swung to the left into the Stewart River
and continued on until the river was nothing
but a stream.
Thornton didn’t need much to survive. As
long as he had a handful of salt and a rifle, he
wasn’t worried about the wild. He wasn’t in
any hurry. Time was on his side. He’d search

96
for his food much like the natives did. If he
failed to find food, he kept looking knowing
that sooner or later it would come to him.
Buck loved the journey. The hunting,
fishing, and wandering about through new
places pleased him. For weeks at a time they
would travel, day after day. Then, for weeks on
end, they would set up camp. The men would
pan for gold while the dogs would laze about.
It was a good life.
Sometimes, they went hungry and other
times, they feasted. Summer came and went
and with fall, they entered a strange lake
country. It was sad and silent. There was no
life at all. Instead, chilly winds greeted them.
Fall turned to winter and they continued
through wondrous trails. Once they were
certain they were close to the lost mine when
they came upon an ancient path. But the path,
they soon found out, began nowhere and ended
nowhere. It remained a mystery.

97
Spring came once again and with it, not the
lost mine but a broad valley where gold
glimmered at the bottom of their washing pans.
The rocks were full of gold! The men looked
no farther and settled on the rich land.
Each day they found thousands of dollars
worth of gold. Each nugget and speckle of dust
went into moose-hide sacks. The men piled
these bags like stacks of firewood outside of the
small cabin they had made.
There was nothing for the dogs to do except
fetch the game that Thornton killed. Besides
that, Buck spent long hours by the roaring fire.
Buck dreamed that he heard something calling
to him from the forest. Although he didn’t
know why, it made him happy.
Sometimes Buck pursued the call from the
forest. He would stick his nose into moss or
into the soil where the grasses grew. At times,
he would crouch for hours behind the trunks
of fallen trees. He didn’t know why he did
these things. He just felt he had to do them.
98
One night, he sprang from his sleep and
looked toward the forest. He was certain that
he heard a call. It was distinct and certain as
never before. He knew in an odd way that it
was a sound that he had heard before.
While everyone slept, he rushed into the
woods and moved cautiously through the
forest. Finally, he came to an open space among
the trees. Looking out, he saw an animal on its
hind legs. Its nose was pointed to the sky. It
was a long, lean timber wolf.
Buck made no noise but the wolf stopped
howling and looked around. He sensed Buck’s
presence. Buck walked into the open and when
the wolf saw him, he fled. Buck followed,
hoping to overtake him. He chased him into a
creek, where the wolf whirled about and
showed his teeth.
Buck did not attack. Instead, he circled him
and tried to engage him in a friendly way. The
wolf was afraid. After all, Buck weighed three
times more. The wolf barely reached Buck’s
99
shoulder. The first chance he got, the wolf
bolted. The chase resumed.
This happened many times that evening but
finally, Buck was rewarded. The wolf came to
understand that no harm would come his way.
He sniffed noses with Buck. They became
friendly and played.
After a while, the wolf started off in a way
that made it clear that Buck was to follow. So
they ran side by side through the twilight,
straight up the creek bed, and into the gorge.
Buck felt wildly happy. He knew he was
answering the call. He was running with his
wood brother toward the place from where the
call surely came. It wasn’t until they stopped to
drink that Buck remembered John Thornton.
Buck sat down while the wolf continued on.
When the wolf didn’t see Buck by his side, he
came back to Buck and urged him forward. But
Buck turned about and started slowly back to
camp.

100
For an hour, the wild brother ran by his side,
whining softly. Then he sat down, pointed his
nose upward, and howled. As Buck continued
on his way, he heard the howl grow fainter until
it could be heard no more.
Thornton was eating dinner when Buck
dashed into camp. Buck jumped on Thornton
with a frenzy of affection. He licked his face
and bit his hand. For two days and two nights,
Buck wouldn’t let Thornton out of his sight.
He refused to leave camp or go anywhere
without Thornton. Buck followed him about
while he worked. He watched him when he
ate and slept.
But at the end of the two days, the call from
the forest called out to him once again. Buck’s
restlessness came back and he thought about
his wild brother. He longed to see him again.
Although he searched, he never found his
brother or heard his mournful howl.
Buck started to sleep away from the camp
each evening. Then, he ventured farther from
101
camp, staying away for a week at a time. He
searched in vain for his wild brother as he
moved from one area to the next. He fished
for salmon, killed a large black bear, and blinded
by mosquitoes, raged through the forest.
It wasn’t long before Buck felt as if he was
the best hunter in the world. Except for the
stray brown on his muzzle and above his eyes
and the splash of white hair that ran down his
chest, he looked like a giant wolf. He acted like
a wolf.

102
12
Buck Answers the Call of
the Wild

“Never was there such a dog,” said Thornton


one day as the partners watched Buck march
out of camp.
“When he was made, the mold was broke,”
said Pete.
“By jingo! I agree,” said Hans.
The men watched Buck march out of camp.
But they didn’t see the instant and terrible
change that took place the second he entered
the forest. He no longer marched. Instead, he
became a thing of the wild. He crawled on his
belly like a snake and like a snake, he lurched
forward to strike.

103
Buck could take a bird from its nest, kill a
rabbit as it slept, and snap chipmunks in midair
as they fled into nearby trees. Buck didn’t kill
for the sake of killing. No, Buck killed to eat.
As fall approached, Buck noticed an increase
of moose in the area. Buck had already killed a
small one but now yearned to take down a
bigger one.
Buck spied a band of twenty moose drinking
from the creek. The one in charge was mean
and had a savage temper. He stood six feet
from the ground. His antlers had fourteen
points and reached seven feet within the tips.
He roared with fury at the sight of Buck.
It took four days, but Buck brought him
down. He first separated the old bull from his
herd. Then, he took him down and had his fill.
After a few days, refreshed and full, Buck
headed back to the camp.
As he traveled, he became aware of a certain
stirring in the air. There was life but what life
it was, Buck didn’t know. The birds talked of it.
104
105
The squirrels chattered about it. The breeze
whispered of it. The closer he got to camp, the
greater sense of danger he felt.
Three miles from camp, he came upon a
fresh trail that sent his neck hair rippling. It led
straight toward camp and Thornton. Buck
hurried on and the dead silence worried him.
As Buck ran, his head jerked at a new smell
off to the side of the road. When Buck
investigated, he found Nig. An arrow had
pierced his body.
A hundred yards farther in, Buck came upon
one of the sled dogs Thornton had brought to
Dawson. The dog thrashed about in a death
struggle. Buck passed around him without
stopping. From the camp straight ahead came
many voices.
At the edge of camp, Buck found Hans lying
on his face. An arrow had pierced him as well.
Buck peered out at where the lodge had been
and saw a sight that enraged him. Because of

106
his great love for Thornton, Buck went wild and
lost his head.
The Yeehats were dancing about the
wreckage when they heard the roar. Buck
hurled himself upon them in a frenzy to
destroy.
Buck sprang at the nearest man, who was the
chief. With his fangs, he ripped his neck open
and a fountain of blood sprayed about. He
didn’t pause to worry about the man. Instead,
he pounded on the next Yeehat and got the
same results. Buck plunged about thrashing and
killing until an arrow sailed by him and into the
back of another hunter.
When that Yeehat fell, a panic seized the rest
of the natives. They fled in terror into the
woods proclaiming that they fled an Evil Spirit.
Buck chased after them dragging many to their
death. When the last one was killed, Buck
returned to an empty camp.
Buck found Pete where he had been killed
in his blankets. Thornton’s desperate struggle
107
was fresh on the earth. Buck followed the scent
down to the edge of a deep pool. By the edge,
head and front feet in the water, was Skeet.
Faithful to the end.
The pool itself, muddied and bloodied, hid
what it contained. For it contained Thornton.
Buck had followed his scent to the water. There
was no trace that led away.
Buck felt a sadness he had never known.
When he passed the dead Yeehats, he forgot his
pain for a minute and took great pride in
himself. He learned how easily he had killed
man. They were much easier to bring down
than he expected. As long as they had no spears
or arrows, they were no match for him.
When night fell, Buck noticed a new stirring
in the woods. He stood up and heard a faint,
sharp yelp from far away. It was quickly
followed by a chorus of similar sharp yelps. As
the minutes passed, the yelps drew closer.

108
Again, Buck knew them as things he had
heard in another world that persisted in his
memory. He walked to the center of the open
space and listened.
It was the call. The call was stronger than it
had ever been. He was finally ready to obey.
John Thornton was dead. The last tie was
broken. Man had no more claims on him and
never would again.
Hunting their living meat, the wolf pack had
at last crossed over from the land of streams and
timber and invaded Buck’s valley. A silvery
flood streamed into the clearing. At the center
of the clearing, Buck stood motionless. He was
waiting for them.
The pack was awed by the sight of him.
Within a minute, the boldest leaped straight for
Buck. Like a flash, Buck struck and broke its
neck. Three others tried attacking before they
realized that Buck was stronger than they were.

109
The wolves drew back. In the moonlight,
Buck could see their white fangs. Some were
lying down with heads raised. Still, others were
lapping water from the pool.
One long, lean gray wolf advanced
cautiously. Buck recognized him instantly. It
was his wild brother with whom he had run
and played. They both whined softly and
touched noses.
Then an old wolf stepped forward. Buck
rubbed noses with him as well. After that, the
older wolf sat down, pointed his nose toward
the moon, and broke out the long wolf howl.
All the others sat down and howled with
him. Buck, too, sat down and howled. The
others yelped in chorus as they sprang away
into the woods. Buck ran with them, side by
side with his wild brother, yelping as he ran.
And here may end the story of Buck. The
years were not many when the Yeehats noted a

110
change in the breed of timber wolves. Some
were seen with splashes of brown on their
heads and muzzles. Others had a patch of
white hair running down the chest.
But more remarkable than this, the Yeehats
tell the story of a Ghost Dog that runs at the
head of the pack. They are afraid of this Ghost
Dog. For it steals from their camps, robs their
traps, slays their dogs, and defies their brave
hunters.
Now the tale grows worse. Many Yeehats
who failed to return to camp were found. They
had their throats slashed and there were wolf
prints around them in the snow. These were
greater than the prints of any wolf.
Each fall, when the Yeehats follow the
movement of the moose, there is one valley
they refuse to enter. They tell stories about
how an evil spirit came one year and decided
to live in that valley.

111
In the summers, there is one animal that
travels out of that valley. It is a great wolf
unlike any others. It crosses alone from the
timberland and comes down to an open space
among the trees. Here, a yellow stream flows
from rotted moose-hide sacks and sinks into the
ground. Long grasses grow through them and
overrun the ground. This wolf stays for a time
dreaming and howling one long, mournful howl
before leaving.

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