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strange god's foot lifted。 He was beginning the ascent。
Then it was that White Fang struck。 He gave no warning； with no snarl
anticipated his own action。 Into the air he lifted his body in the spring that
landed him on the strange god's back。 White Fang clung with his fore…
paws to the man's shoulders； at the same time burying his fangs into the
back of the man's neck。 He clung on for a moment； long enough to drag
the god over backward。 Together they crashed to the floor。 White Fang
leaped clear； and； as the man struggled to rise； was in again with the
slashing fangs。
Sierra Vista awoke in alarm。 The noise from downstairs was as that of
a score of battling fiends。 There were revolver shots。 A man's voice
screamed once in horror and anguish。 There was a great snarling and
growling； and over all arose a smashing and crashing of furniture and
glass。
But almost as quickly as it had arisen； the commotion died away。 The
struggle had not lasted more than three minutes。 The frightened household
clustered at the top of the stairway。 From below； as from out an abyss of
blackness； came up a gurgling sound； as of air bubbling through water。
Sometimes this gurgle became sibilant； almost a whistle。 But this； too；
quickly died down and ceased。 Then naught came up out of the blackness
save a heavy panting of some creature struggling sorely for air。
Weedon Scott pressed a button； and the staircase and downstairs hall
were flooded with light。 Then he and Judge Scott； revolvers in hand；
cautiously descended。 There was no need for this caution。 White Fang had
done his work。 In the midst of the wreckage of overthrown and smashed
furniture； partly on his side； his face hidden by an arm； lay a man。 Weedon
Scott bent over； removed the arm and turned the man's face upward。 A
gaping throat explained the manner of his death。
〃Jim Hall；〃 said Judge Scott； and father and son looked significantly at
each other。
Then they turned to White Fang。 He； too； was lying on his side。 His
eyes were closed； but the lids slightly lifted in an effort to look at them as
they bent over him； and the tail was perceptibly agitated in a vain effort to
wag。 Weedon Scott patted him； and his throat rumbled an acknowledging
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White Fang
growl。 But it was a weak growl at best； and it quickly ceased。 His eyelids
drooped and went shut； and his whole body seemed to relax and flatten out
upon the floor。
〃He's all in； poor devil；〃 muttered the master。
〃We'll see about that；〃 asserted the Judge； as he started for the
telephone。
〃Frankly； he has one chance in a thousand；〃 announced the surgeon；
after he had worked an hour and a half on White Fang。
Dawn was breaking through the windows and dimming the electric
lights。 With the exception of the children； the whole family was gathered
about the surgeon to hear his verdict。
〃One broken hind…leg；〃 he went on。 〃Three broken ribs； one at least of
which has pierced the lungs。 He has lost nearly all the blood in his body。
There is a large likelihood of internal injuries。 He must have been jumped
upon。 To say nothing of three bullet holes clear through him。 One chance
in a thousand is really optimistic。 He hasn't a chance in ten thousand。〃
〃But he mustn't lose any chance that might be of help to him；〃 Judge
Scott exclaimed。 〃Never mind expense。 Put him under the X… ray …
anything。 Weedon； telegraph at once to San Francisco for Doctor Nichols。
No reflection on you； doctor； you understand； but he must have the
advantage of every chance。〃
The surgeon smiled indulgently。 〃Of course I understand。 He deserves
all that can be done for him。 He must be nursed as you would nurse a
human being； a sick child。 And don't forget what I told you about
temperature。 I'll be back at ten o'clock again。〃
White Fang received the nursing。 Judge Scott's suggestion of a trained
nurse was indignantly clamoured down by the girls； who themselves
undertook the task。 And White Fang won out on the one chance in ten
thousand denied him by the surgeon。
The latter was not to be censured for his misjudgment。 All his life he
had tended and operated on the soft humans of civilisation； who lived
sheltered lives and had descended out of many sheltered generations。
Compared with White Fang； they were frail and flabby； and clutched life
without any strength in their grip。 White Fang had come straight from the
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White Fang
Wild； where the weak perish early and shelter is vouchsafed to none。 In
neither his father nor his mother was there any weakness； nor in the
generations before them。 A constitution of iron and the vitality of the Wild
were White Fang's inheritance； and he clung to life； the whole of him and
every part of him； in spirit and in flesh； with the tenacity that of old
belonged to all creatures。
Bound down a prisoner； denied even movement by the plaster casts
and bandages； White Fang lingered out the weeks。 He slept long hours and
dreamed much； and through his mind passed an unending pageant of
Northland visions。 All the ghosts of the past arose and were with him。
Once again he lived in the lair with Kiche； crept trembling to the knees of
Grey Beaver to tender his allegiance； ran for his life before Lip…lip and all
the howling bedlam of the puppy…pack。
He ran again through the silence； hunting his living food through the
months of famine； and again he ran at the head of the team； the gut…whips
of Mit…sah and Grey Beaver snapping behind； their voices crying 〃Ra！
Raa！〃 when they came to a narrow passage and the team closed together
like a fan to go through。 He lived again all his days with Beauty Smith and
the fights he had fought。 At such times he whimpered and snarled in his
sleep； and they that looked on said that his dreams were bad。
But there was one particular nightmare from which he suffered … the
clanking； clanging monsters of electric cars that were to him colossal
screaming lynxes。 He would lie in a screen of bushes； watching for a
squirrel to venture far enough out on the ground from its tree…refuge。 Then；
when he sprang out upon it； it would transform itself into an electric car；
menacing and terrible； towering over him like a mountain； screaming and
clanging and spitting fire at him。 It was the same when he challenged the
hawk down out of the sky。 Down out of the blue it would rush； as it
dropped upon him changing itself into the ubiquitous electric car。 Or again；
he would be in the pen of Beauty Smith。 Outside the pen； men would be
gathering； and he knew that a fight was on。 He watched the door for his
antagonist to enter。 The door would open； and thrust in upon him would
come the awful electric car。 A thousand times this occurred； and each time
the terror it inspired was as vivid and great as ever。
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Then came the day when the last bandage and the last plaster cast were
taken off。 It was a gala day。 All Sierra Vista was gathered around。 The
master rubbed his ears； and he crooned his love…growl。 The master's wife
called him the 〃Blessed Wolf；〃 which name was taken up with acclaim and
all the women called him the Blessed Wolf。
He tried to rise to his feet； and after several attempts fell down from
weakness。 He had lain so long that his muscles had lost their cunning； and
all the strength had gone out of them。 He felt a little shame because of his
weakness； as though； forsooth； he were failing the gods in the service he
owed them。 Because of this he made heroic efforts to arise and at last he
stood on his four legs； tottering and swaying back and forth。
〃The Blessed Wolf！〃 chorused the women。
Judge Scott su