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1And closely akin to the visions of the hairy man was the call still sounding in the depths of the forest. It filled him
2with a great unrest and strange desires. It caused him to feel a vague, sweet gladness, and he was aware of wild
3yearnings and stirrings for he knew not what. Sometimes he pursued the call into the forest, looking for it as though it
4were a tangible thing, barking softly or defiantly, as the mood might dictate. He would thrust his nose into the cool
5wood moss, or into the black soil where long grasses grew, and snort with joy at the fat earth smells; or he would
6crouch for hours, as if in concealment, behind fungus-covered trunks of fallen trees, wide-eyed and wide-eared to all
7that moved and sounded about him. It might be, lying thus, that he hoped to surprise this call he could not understand.
8But he did not know why he did these various things. He was impelled to do them, and did not reason about them at all.
9Irresistible impulses seized him. He would be lying in camp, dozing lazily in the heat of the day, when suddenly his
10head would lift and his ears cock up, intent and listening, and he would spring to his feet and dash away, and on and
11on, for hours, through the forest aisles and across the open spaces where the niggerheads bunched. He loved to run down
12dry watercourses, and to creep and spy upon the bird life in the woods. For a day at a time he would lie in the
13underbrush where he could watch the partridges drumming and strutting up and down. But especially he loved to run in the
14dim twilight of the summer midnights, listening to the subdued and sleepy murmurs of the forest, reading signs and
15sounds as man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterious something that called--called, waking or sleeping, at all
16times, for him to come. One night he sprang from sleep with a start, eager-eyed, nostrils quivering and scenting, his
17mane bristling in recurrent waves. From the forest came the call (or one note of it, for the call was many noted),
18distinct and definite as never before,--a long-drawn howl, like, yet unlike, any noise made by husky dog. And he knew
19it, in the old familiar way, as a sound heard before. He sprang through the sleeping camp and in swift silence dashed
20through the woods. As he drew closer to the cry he went more slowly, with caution in every movement, till he came to an
21open place among the trees, and looking out saw, erect on haunches, with nose pointed to the sky, a long, lean, timber
22wolf. He had made no noise, yet it ceased from its howling and tried to sense his presence. Buck stalked into the open,
23half crouching, body gathered compactly together, tail straight and stiff, feet falling with unwonted care. Every
24movement advertised commingled threatening and overture of friendliness. It was the menacing truce that marks the
25meeting of wild beasts that prey. But the wolf fled at sight of him. He followed, with wild leapings, in a frenzy to
26overtake. He ran him into a blind channel, in the bed of the creek where a timber jam barred the way. The wolf whirled
27about, pivoting on his hind legs after the fashion of Joe and of all cornered husky dogs, snarling and bristling,
28clipping his teeth together in a continuous and rapid succession of snaps. Buck did not attack, but circled him about
29and hedged him in with friendly advances. The wolf was suspicious and afraid; for Buck made three of him in weight,
30while his head barely reached Buck's shoulder. Watching his chance, he darted away, and the chase was resumed. Time and
31again he was cornered, and the thing repeated, though he was in poor condition, or Buck could not so easily have
32overtaken him. He would run till Buck's head was even with his flank, when he would whirl around at bay, only to dash
33away again at the first opportunity. But in the end Buck's pertinacity was rewarded; for the wolf, finding that no harm
34was intended, finally sniffed noses with him. Then they became friendly, and played about in the nervous, half-coy way
35with which fierce beasts belie their fierceness. After some time of this the wolf started off at an easy lope in a
36manner that plainly showed he was going somewhere. He made it clear to Buck that he was to come, and they ran side by
37side through the sombre twilight, straight up the creek bed, into the gorge from which it issued, and across the bleak
38divide where it took its rise. On the opposite slope of the watershed they came down into a level country where were
39great stretches of forest and many streams, and through these great stretches they ran steadily, hour after hour, the
40sun rising higher and the day growing warmer. Buck was wildly glad. He knew he was at last answering the call, running
41by the side of his wood brother toward the place from where the call surely came. Old memories were coming upon him
42fast, and he was stirring to them as of old he stirred to the realities of which they were the shadows. He had done this
43thing before, somewhere in that other and dimly remembered world, and he was doing it again, now, running free in the
44open, the unpacked earth underfoot, the wide sky overhead. They stopped by a running stream to drink, and, stopping,
45Buck remembered John Thornton. He sat down. The wolf started on toward the place from where the call surely came, then
46returned to him, sniffing noses and making actions as though to encourage him. But Buck turned about and started slowly
47on the back track. For the better part of an hour the wild brother ran by his side, whining softly. Then he sat down,
48pointed his nose upward, and howled. It was a mournful howl, and as Buck held steadily on his way he heard it grow faint
49and fainter until it was lost in the distance. John Thornton was eating dinner when Buck dashed into camp and sprang
50upon him in a frenzy of affection, overturning him, scrambling upon him, licking his face, biting his hand--"playing the
51general tom-fool," as John Thornton characterized it, the while he shook Buck back and forth and cursed him lovingly.
52For two days and nights Buck never left camp, never let Thornton out of his sight. He followed him about at his work,
53watched him while he ate, saw him into his blankets at night and out of them in the morning. But after two days the call
54in the forest began to sound more imperiously than ever. Buck's restlessness came back on him, and he was haunted by
55recollections of the wild brother, and of the smiling land beyond the divide and the run side by side through the wide
56forest stretches. Once again he took to wandering in the woods, but the wild brother came no more; and though he
57listened through long vigils, the mournful howl was never raised. He began to sleep out at night, staying away from camp
58for days at a time; and once he crossed the divide at the head of the creek and went down into the land of timber and
59streams. There he wandered for a week, seeking vainly for fresh sign of the wild brother, killing his meat as he
60travelled and travelling with the long, easy lope that seems never to tire. He fished for salmon in a broad stream that
61emptied somewhere into the sea, and by this stream he killed a large black bear, blinded by the mosquitoes while
62likewise fishing, and raging through the forest helpless and terrible. Even so, it was a hard fight, and it aroused the
63last latent remnants of Buck's ferocity. And two days later, when he returned to his kill and found a dozen wolverenes
64quarrelling over the spoil, he scattered them like chaff; and those that fled left two behind who would quarrel no more.
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