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1He was beaten (he knew that); but he was not broken. He saw, once for all, that he stood no chance against a man with a
2club. He had learned the lesson, and in all his after life he never forgot it. That club was a revelation. It was his
3introduction to the reign of primitive law, and he met the introduction halfway. The facts of life took on a fiercer
4aspect; and while he faced that aspect uncowed, he faced it with all the latent cunning of his nature aroused. As the
5days went by, other dogs came, in crates and at the ends of ropes, some docilely, and some raging and roaring as he had
6come; and, one and all, he watched them pass under the dominion of the man in the red sweater. Again and again, as he
7looked at each brutal performance, the lesson was driven home to Buck: a man with a club was a lawgiver, a master to be
8obeyed, though not necessarily conciliated. Of this last Buck was never guilty, though he did see beaten dogs that
9fawned upon the man, and wagged their tails, and licked his hand. Also he saw one dog, that would neither conciliate nor
10obey, finally killed in the struggle for mastery. Now and again men came, strangers, who talked excitedly, wheedlingly,
11and in all kinds of fashions to the man in the red sweater. And at such times that money passed between them the
12strangers took one or more of the dogs away with them. Buck wondered where they went, for they never came back; but the
13fear of the future was strong upon him, and he was glad each time when he was not selected. Yet his time came, in the
14end, in the form of a little weazened man who spat broken English and many strange and uncouth exclamations which Buck
15could not understand. "Sacredam!" he cried, when his eyes lit upon Buck. "Dat one dam bully dog! Eh? How moch?" "Three
16hundred, and a present at that," was the prompt reply of the man in the red sweater. "And seem' it's government money,
17you ain't got no kick coming, eh, Perrault?" Perrault grinned. Considering that the price of dogs had been boomed
18skyward by the unwonted demand, it was not an unfair sum for so fine an animal. The Canadian Government would be no
19loser, nor would its despatches travel the slower. Perrault knew dogs, and when he looked at Buck he knew that he was
20one in a thousand--"One in ten t'ousand," he commented mentally. Buck saw money pass between them, and was not surprised
21when Curly, a good-natured Newfoundland, and he were led away by the little weazened man. That was the last he saw of
22the man in the red sweater, and as Curly and he looked at receding Seattle from the deck of the Narwhal, it was the last
23he saw of the warm Southland. Curly and he were taken below by Perrault and turned over to a black-faced giant called
24François. Perrault was a French-Canadian, and swarthy; but François was a French-Canadian half-breed, and twice as
25swarthy. They were a new kind of men to Buck (of which he was destined to see many more), and while he developed no
26affection for them, he none the less grew honestly to respect them. He speedily learned that Perrault and François were
27fair men, calm and impartial in administering justice, and too wise in the way of dogs to be fooled by dogs. In the
28'tween-decks of the Narwhal, Buck and Curly joined two other dogs. One of them was a big, snow-white fellow from
29Spitzbergen who had been brought away by a whaling captain, and who had later accompanied a Geological Survey into the
30Barrens. He was friendly, in a treacherous sort of way, smiling into one's face the while he meditated some underhand
31trick, as, for instance, when he stole from Buck's food at the first meal. As Buck sprang to punish him, the lash of
32François's whip sang through the air, reaching the culprit first; and nothing remained to Buck but to recover the bone.
33That was fair of François, he decided, and the half-breed began his rise in Buck's estimation. The other dog made no
34advances, nor received any; also, he did not attempt to steal from the newcomers. He was a gloomy, morose fellow, and he
35showed Curly plainly that all he desired was to be left alone, and further, that there would be trouble if he were not
36left alone. "Dave" he was called, and he ate and slept, or yawned between times, and took interest in nothing, not even
37when the Narwhal crossed Queen Charlotte Sound and rolled and pitched and bucked like a thing possessed. When Buck and
38Curly grew excited, half wild with fear, he raised his head as though annoyed, favored them with an incurious glance,
39yawned, and went to sleep again. Day and night the ship throbbed to the tireless pulse of the propeller, and though one
40day was very like another, it was apparent to Buck that the weather was steadily growing colder. At last, one morning,
41the propeller was quiet, and the Narwhal was pervaded with an atmosphere of excitement. He felt it, as did the other
42dogs, and knew that a change was at hand. François leashed them and brought them on deck. At the first step upon the
43cold surface, Buck's feet sank into a white mushy something very like mud. He sprang back with a snort. More of this
44white stuff was falling through the air. He shook himself, but more of it fell upon him. He sniffed it curiously, then
45licked some up on his tongue. It bit like fire, and the next instant was gone. This puzzled him. He tried it again, with
46the same result. The onlookers laughed uproariously, and he felt ashamed, he knew not why, for it was his first snow.
47Chapter II. The Law of Club and Fang Buck's first day on the Dyea beach was like a nightmare. Every hour was filled with
48shock and surprise. He had been suddenly jerked from the heart of civilization and flung into the heart of things
49primordial. No lazy, sun-kissed life was this, with nothing to do but loaf and be bored. Here was neither peace, nor
50rest, nor a moment's safety. All was confusion and action, and every moment life and limb were in peril. There was
51imperative need to be constantly alert; for these dogs and men were not town dogs and men. They were savages, all of
52them, who knew no law but the law of club and fang. He had never seen dogs fight as these wolfish creatures fought, and
53his first experience taught him an unforgetable lesson. It is true, it was a vicarious experience, else he would not
54have lived to profit by it. Curly was the victim. They were camped near the log store, where she, in her friendly way,
55made advances to a husky dog the size of a full-grown wolf, though not half so large as she. There was no warning, only
56a leap in like a flash, a metallic clip of teeth, a leap out equally swift, and Curly's face was ripped open from eye to
57jaw. It was the wolf manner of fighting, to strike and leap away; but there was more to it than this. Thirty or forty
58huskies ran to the spot and surrounded the combatants in an intent and silent circle. Buck did not comprehend that
59silent intentness, nor the eager way with which they were licking their chops. Curly rushed her antagonist, who struck
60again and leaped aside. He met her next rush with his chest, in a peculiar fashion that tumbled her off her feet. She
61never regained them. This was what the onlooking huskies had waited for. They closed in upon her, snarling and yelping,
62and she was buried, screaming with agony, beneath the bristling mass of bodies.
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