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was nothing but space； and into this space they flew when White Fang
came on the scene； made mad by laughter。
In the third year of his life there came a great famine to the Mackenzie
Indians。 In the summer the fish failed。 In the winter the cariboo forsook
their accustomed track。 Moose were scarce； the rabbits almost disappeared；
hunting and preying animals perished。 Denied their usual food…supply；
weakened by hunger； they fell upon and devoured one another。 Only the
strong survived。 White Fang's gods were always hunting animals。 The old
and the weak of them died of hunger。 There was wailing in the village；
where the women and children went without in order that what little they
had might go into the bellies of the lean and hollow…eyed hunters who trod
the forest in the vain pursuit of meat。
To such extremity were the gods driven that they ate the soft… tanned
leather of their mocassins and mittens； while the dogs ate the harnesses off
their backs and the very whip…lashes。 Also； the dogs ate one another； and
also the gods ate the dogs。 The weakest and the more worthless were eaten
first。 The dogs that still lived； looked on and understood。 A few of the
boldest and wisest forsook the fires of the gods； which had now become a
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shambles； and fled into the forest； where； in the end； they starved to death
or were eaten by wolves。
In this time of misery； White Fang； too； stole away into the woods。 He
was better fitted for the life than the other dogs； for he had the training of
his cubhood to guide him。 Especially adept did he become in stalking
small living things。 He would lie concealed for hours； following every
movement of a cautious tree…squirrel； waiting； with a patience as huge as
the hunger he suffered from； until the squirrel ventured out upon the
ground。 Even then； White Fang was not premature。 He waited until he was
sure of striking before the squirrel could gain a tree…refuge。 Then； and not
until then； would he flash from his hiding…place； a grey projectile；
incredibly swift； never failing its mark … the fleeing squirrel that fled not
fast enough。
Successful as he was with squirrels； there was one difficulty that
prevented him from living and growing fat on them。 There were not
enough squirrels。 So he was driven to hunt still smaller things。 So acute
did his hunger become at times that he was not above rooting out wood…
mice from their burrows in the ground。 Nor did he scorn to do battle with a
weasel as hungry as himself and many times more ferocious。 In the worst
pinches of the famine he stole back to the fires of the gods。 But he did not
go into the fires。 He lurked in the forest； avoiding discovery and robbing
the snares at the rare intervals when game was caught。 He even robbed
Grey Beaver's snare of a rabbit at a time when Grey Beaver staggered and
tottered through the forest； sitting down often to rest； what of weakness
and of shortness of breath。
One day While Fang encountered a young wolf； gaunt and scrawny；
loose…jointed with famine。 Had he not been hungry himself； White Fang
might have gone with him and eventually found his way into the pack
amongst his wild brethren。 As it was； he ran the young wolf down and
killed and ate him。
Fortune seemed to favour him。 Always； when hardest pressed for food；
he found something to kill。 Again； when he was weak； it was his luck that
none of the larger preying animals chanced upon him。 Thus； he was strong
from the two days' eating a lynx had afforded him when the hungry wolf…
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pack ran full tilt upon him。 It was a long； cruel chase； but he was better
nourished than they； and in the end outran them。 And not only did he
outrun them； but； circling widely back on his track； he gathered in one of
his exhausted pursuers。
After that he left that part of the country and journeyed over to the
valley wherein he had been born。 Here； in the old lair； he encountered
Kiche。 Up to her old tricks； she； too； had fled the inhospitable fires of the
gods and gone back to her old refuge to give birth to her young。 Of this
litter but one remained alive when White Fang came upon the scene； and
this one was not destined to live long。 Young life had little chance in such
a famine。
Kiche's greeting of her grown son was anything but affectionate。 But
White Fang did not mind。 He had outgrown his mother。 So he turned tail
philosophically and trotted on up the stream。 At the forks he took the
turning to the left； where he found the lair of the lynx with whom his
mother and he had fought long before。 Here； in the abandoned lair； he
settled down and rested for a day。
During the early summer； in the last days of the famine； he met Lip…lip；
who had likewise taken to the woods； where he had eked out a miserable
existence。
White Fang came upon him unexpectedly。 Trotting in opposite
directions along the base of a high bluff； they rounded a corner of rock and
found themselves face to face。 They paused with instant alarm； and looked
at each other suspiciously。
White Fang was in splendid condition。 His hunting had been good； and
for a week he had eaten his fill。 He was even gorged from his latest kill。
But in the moment he looked at Lip…lip his hair rose on end all along his
back。 It was an involuntary bristling on his part； the physical state that in
the past had always accompanied the mental state produced in him by Lip…
lip's bullying and persecution。 As in the past he had bristled and snarled at
sight of Lip…lip； so now； and automatically； he bristled and snarled。 He did
not waste any time。 The thing was done thoroughly and with despatch。
Lip…lip essayed to back away； but White Fang struck him hard； shoulder to
shoulder。 Lip…lip was overthrown and rolled upon his back。 White Fang's
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teeth drove into the scrawny throat。 There was a death…struggle； during
which White Fang walked around； stiff… legged and observant。 Then he
resumed his course and trotted on along the base of the bluff。
One day； not long after； he came to the edge of the forest； where a
narrow stretch of open land sloped down to the Mackenzie。 He had been
over this ground before； when it was bare； but now a village occupied it。
Still hidden amongst the trees； he paused to study the situation。 Sights and
sounds and scents were familiar to him。 It was the old village changed to a
new place。 But sights and sounds and smells were different from those he
had last had when he fled away from it。 There was no whimpering nor
wailing。 Contented sounds saluted his ear； and when he heard the angry
voice of a woman he knew it to be the anger that proceeds from a full
stomach。 And there was a smell in the air of fish。 There was food。 The
famine was gone。 He came out boldly from the forest and trotted into
camp straight to Grey Beaver's tepee。 Grey Beaver was not there； but
Kloo…kooch welcomed him with glad cries and the whole of a fresh…caught
fish； and he lay down to wait Grey Beaver's coming。
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PART IV
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CHAPTER I … THE ENEMY OF HIS KIND
Had there been in White Fang's nature any possibility； no matter how
remote； of his ever coming to fraternise with his kind； such possibility was
irretrievably destroyed when he was made leader of the sled…team。 For
now the dogs hated him … hated him for the extra meat bestowed upon him
by Mit…sah； hated him for all the real and fancied favours he received；
hated him for that he fled always at the head of the team； his waving brush