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the edge of the forest and stood and listened to something calling him far
and away。 And always he returned； restless and uncomfortable； to
whimper softly and wistfully at Kiche's side and to lick her face with eager；
questioning tongue。
White Fang learned rapidly the ways of the camp。 He knew the
injustice and greediness of the older dogs when meat or fish was thrown
out to be eaten。 He came to know that men were more just； children more
cruel； and women more kindly and more likely to toss him a bit of meat or
bone。 And after two or three painful adventures with the mothers of part…
grown puppies； he came into the knowledge that it was always good
policy to let such mothers alone； to keep away from them as far as
possible； and to avoid them when he saw them coming。
But the bane of his life was Lip…lip。 Larger； older； and stronger； Lip…lip
had selected White Fang for his special object of persecution。 While Fang
fought willingly enough； but he was outclassed。 His enemy was too big。
Lip…lip became a nightmare to him。 Whenever he ventured away from his
mother； the bully was sure to appear； trailing at his heels； snarling at him；
picking upon him； and watchful of an opportunity； when no man…animal
was near； to spring upon him and force a fight。 As Lip…lip invariably won；
he enjoyed it hugely。 It became his chief delight in life； as it became White
Fang's chief torment。
But the effect upon White Fang was not to cow him。 Though he
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suffered most of the damage and was always defeated； his spirit remained
unsubdued。 Yet a bad effect was produced。 He became malignant and
morose。 His temper had been savage by birth； but it became more savage
under this unending persecution。 The genial； playful； puppyish side of him
found little expression。 He never played and gambolled about with the
other puppies of the camp。 Lip…lip would not permit it。 The moment White
Fang appeared near them； Lip…lip was upon him； bullying and hectoring
him； or fighting with him until he had driven him away。
The effect of all this was to rob White Fang of much of his puppyhood
and to make him in his comportment older than his age。 Denied the outlet；
through play； of his energies； he recoiled upon himself and developed his
mental processes。 He became cunning； he had idle time in which to devote
himself to thoughts of trickery。 Prevented from obtaining his share of meat
and fish when a general feed was given to the camp…dogs； he became a
clever thief。 He had to forage for himself； and he foraged well； though he
was oft…times a plague to the squaws in consequence。 He learned to sneak
about camp； to be crafty； to know what was going on everywhere； to see
and to hear everything and to reason accordingly； and successfully to
devise ways and means of avoiding his implacable persecutor。
It was early in the days of his persecution that he played his first really
big crafty game and got there from his first taste of revenge。 As Kiche；
when with the wolves； had lured out to destruction dogs from the camps of
men； so White Fang； in manner somewhat similar； lured Lip…lip into
Kiche's avenging jaws。 Retreating before Lip…lip； White Fang made an
indirect flight that led in and out and around the various tepees of the
camp。 He was a good runner； swifter than any puppy of his size； and
swifter than Lip…lip。 But he did not run his best in this chase。 He barely
held his own； one leap ahead of his pursuer。
Lip…lip； excited by the chase and by the persistent nearness of his
victim； forgot caution and locality。 When he remembered locality； it was
too late。 Dashing at top speed around a tepee； he ran full tilt into Kiche
lying at the end of her stick。 He gave one yelp of consternation； and then
her punishing jaws closed upon him。 She was tied； but he could not get
away from her easily。 She rolled him off his legs so that he could not run；
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while she repeatedly ripped and slashed him with her fangs。
When at last he succeeded in rolling clear of her； he crawled to his feet；
badly dishevelled； hurt both in body and in spirit。 His hair was standing
out all over him in tufts where her teeth had mauled。 He stood where he
had arisen； opened his mouth； and broke out the long； heart…broken puppy
wail。 But even this he was not allowed to complete。 In the middle of it；
White Fang； rushing in； sank his teeth into Lip…lip's hind leg。 There was no
fight left in Lip…lip； and he ran away shamelessly； his victim hot on his
heels and worrying him all the way back to his own tepee。 Here the
squaws came to his aid； and White Fang； transformed into a raging demon；
was finally driven off only by a fusillade of stones。
Came the day when Grey Beaver； deciding that the liability of her
running away was past； released Kiche。 White Fang was delighted with his
mother's freedom。 He accompanied her joyfully about the camp； and； so
long as he remained close by her side； Lip…lip kept a respectful distance。
White…Fang even bristled up to him and walked stiff…legged； but Lip…lip
ignored the challenge。 He was no fool himself； and whatever vengeance he
desired to wreak； he could wait until he caught White Fang alone。
Later on that day； Kiche and White Fang strayed into the edge of the
woods next to the camp。 He had led his mother there； step by step； and
now when she stopped； he tried to inveigle her farther。 The stream； the lair；
and the quiet woods were calling to him； and he wanted her to come。 He
ran on a few steps； stopped； and looked back。 She had not moved。 He
whined pleadingly； and scurried playfully in and out of the underbrush。 He
ran back to her； licked her face； and ran on again。 And still she did not
move。 He stopped and regarded her； all of an intentness and eagerness；
physically expressed； that slowly faded out of him as she turned her head
and gazed back at the camp。
There was something calling to him out there in the open。 His mother
heard it too。 But she heard also that other and louder call； the call of the
fire and of man … the call which has been given alone of all animals to the
wolf to answer； to the wolf and the wild…dog； who are brothers。
Kiche turned and slowly trotted back toward camp。 Stronger than the
physical restraint of the stick was the clutch of the camp upon her。 Unseen
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and occultly； the gods still gripped with their power and would not let her
go。 White Fang sat down in the shadow of a birch and whimpered softly。
There was a strong smell of pine； and subtle wood fragrances filled the air；
reminding him of his old life of freedom before the days of his bondage。
But he was still only a part…grown puppy； and stronger than the call either
of man or of the Wild was the call of his mother。 All the hours of his short
life he had depended upon her。 The time was yet to come for independence。
So he arose and trotted forlornly back to camp； pausing once； and twice； to
sit down and whimper and to listen to the call that still sounded in the
depths of the forest。
In the Wild the time of a mother with her young is short； but under the
dominion of man it is sometimes even shorter。 Thus it was with White
Fang。 Grey Beaver was in the debt of Three Eagles。 Three Eagles was
going away on a trip up the Mackenzie to the Great Slave Lake。 A strip of
scarlet cloth； a bearskin； twenty cartridges； and Kiche； went to pay the
debt。 White Fang saw his mother taken aboard Three Eagles' canoe； and
tried to follow her。 A blow from Three Eagles knocked him backward to
the land。 The canoe shoved off。 He sprang into the water and swam after it；
deaf to the sharp cries of Grey Beaver to return。 Even a man…animal； a god；
White Fang ignored； such was the terror he was in of losing his mother。
But gods are accustomed to being obeyed； and Grey Beaver wrathfully
launched a canoe in pursuit。 When he overtook White Fang； he reached