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Kiche licked White Fang soothingly with her tongue； and tried to
prevail upon him to remain with her。 But his curiosity was rampant； and
several minutes later he was venturing forth on a new quest。 He came
upon one of the man…animals； Grey Beaver； who was squatting on his
hams and doing something with sticks and dry moss spread before him on
the ground。 White Fang came near to him and watched。 Grey Beaver made
mouth…noises which White Fang interpreted as not hostile； so he came still
nearer。
Women and children were carrying more sticks and branches to Grey
Beaver。 It was evidently an affair of moment。 White Fang came in until he
touched Grey Beaver's knee； so curious was he； and already forgetful that
this was a terrible man…animal。 Suddenly he saw a strange thing like mist
beginning to arise from the sticks and moss beneath Grey Beaver's hands。
Then； amongst the sticks themselves； appeared a live thing； twisting and
turning； of a colour like the colour of the sun in the sky。 White Fang knew
nothing about fire。 It drew him as the light； in the mouth of the cave had
drawn him in his early puppyhood。 He crawled the several steps toward
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the flame。 He heard Grey Beaver chuckle above him； and he knew the
sound was not hostile。 Then his nose touched the flame； and at the same
instant his little tongue went out to it。
For a moment he was paralysed。 The unknown； lurking in the midst of
the sticks and moss； was savagely clutching him by the nose。 He
scrambled backward； bursting out in an astonished explosion of ki… yi's。 At
the sound； Kiche leaped snarling to the end of her stick； and there raged
terribly because she could not come to his aid。 But Grey Beaver laughed
loudly； and slapped his thighs； and told the happening to all the rest of the
camp； till everybody was laughing uproariously。 But White Fang sat on his
haunches and ki… yi'd and ki…yi'd； a forlorn and pitiable little figure in the
midst of the man…animals。
It was the worst hurt he had ever known。 Both nose and tongue had
been scorched by the live thing； sun…coloured； that had grown up under
Grey Beaver's hands。 He cried and cried interminably； and every fresh
wail was greeted by bursts of laughter on the part of the man…animals。 He
tried to soothe his nose with his tongue； but the tongue was burnt too； and
the two hurts coming together produced greater hurt； whereupon he cried
more hopelessly and helplessly than ever。
And then shame came to him。 He knew laughter and the meaning of it。
It is not given us to know how some animals know laughter； and know
when they are being laughed at； but it was this same way that White Fang
knew it。 And he felt shame that the man…animals should be laughing at him。
He turned and fled away； not from the hurt of the fire； but from the
laughter that sank even deeper； and hurt in the spirit of him。 And he fled to
Kiche； raging at the end of her stick like an animal gone mad … to Kiche；
the one creature in the world who was not laughing at him。
Twilight drew down and night came on； and White Fang lay by his
mother's side。 His nose and tongue still hurt； but he was perplexed by a
greater trouble。 He was homesick。 He felt a vacancy in him； a need for the
hush and quietude of the stream and the cave in the cliff。 Life had become
too populous。 There were so many of the man…animals； men； women； and
children； all making noises and irritations。 And there were the dogs； ever
squabbling and bickering； bursting into uproars and creating confusions。
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The restful loneliness of the only life he had known was gone。 Here the
very air was palpitant with life。 It hummed and buzzed unceasingly。
Continually changing its intensity and abruptly variant in pitch； it
impinged on his nerves and senses； made him nervous and restless and
worried him with a perpetual imminence of happening。
He watched the man…animals coming and going and moving about the
camp。 In fashion distantly resembling the way men look upon the gods
they create； so looked White Fang upon the man…animals before him。 They
were superior creatures； of a verity； gods。 To his dim comprehension they
were as much wonder…workers as gods are to men。 They were creatures of
mastery； possessing all manner of unknown and impossible potencies；
overlords of the alive and the not alive … making obey that which moved；
imparting movement to that which did not move； and making life； sun…
coloured and biting life； to grow out of dead moss and wood。 They were
fire…makers！ They were gods。
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CHAPTER II … THE BONDAGE
The days were thronged with experience for White Fang。 During the
time that Kiche was tied by the stick； he ran about over all the camp；
inquiring； investigating； learning。 He quickly came to know much of the
ways of the man…animals； but familiarity did not breed contempt。 The
more he came to know them； the more they vindicated their superiority；
the more they displayed their mysterious powers； the greater loomed their
god…likeness。
To man has been given the grief； often； of seeing his gods overthrown
and his altars crumbling； but to the wolf and the wild dog that have come
in to crouch at man's feet； this grief has never come。 Unlike man； whose
gods are of the unseen and the overguessed； vapours and mists of fancy
eluding the garmenture of reality； wandering wraiths of desired goodness
and power； intangible out…croppings of self into the realm of spirit … unlike
man； the wolf and the wild dog that have come in to the fire find their
gods in the living flesh； solid to the touch； occupying earth…space and
requiring time for the accomplishment of their ends and their existence。
No effort of faith is necessary to believe in such a god； no effort of will
can possibly induce disbelief in such a god。 There is no getting away from
it。 There it stands； on its two hind…legs； club in hand； immensely potential；
passionate and wrathful and loving； god and mystery and power all
wrapped up and around by flesh that bleeds when it is torn and that is
good to eat like any flesh。
And so it was with White Fang。 The man…animals were gods
unmistakable and unescapable。 As his mother； Kiche； had rendered her
allegiance to them at the first cry of her name； so he was beginning to
render his allegiance。 He gave them the trail as a privilege indubitably
theirs。 When they walked； he got out of their way。 When they called； he
came。 When they threatened； he cowered down。 When they commanded
him to go； he went away hurriedly。 For behind any wish of theirs was
power to enforce that wish； power that hurt； power that expressed itself in
clouts and clubs； in flying stones and stinging lashes of whips。
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He belonged to them as all dogs belonged to them。 His actions were
theirs to command。 His body was theirs to maul； to stamp upon； to tolerate。
Such was the lesson that was quickly borne in upon him。 It came hard；
going as it did； counter to much that was strong and dominant in his own
nature； and； while he disliked it in the learning of it； unknown to himself
he was learning to like it。 It was a placing of his destiny in another's hands；
a shifting of the responsibilities of existence。 This in itself was
compensation； for it is always easier to lean upon another than to stand
alone。
But it did not all happen in a day； this giving over of himself； body and
soul； to the man…animals。 He could not immediately forego his wild
heritage and his memories of the Wild。 There were days when he crept to
the edge of the forest and stood and listened to s