White Fang

hunting expeditions,the cub had learned well th

imes impressed on him byhis mother's nose and pa

ry through a thousand thousand lives. It was a heritage he hadreceived directly from One Eye and the she-wolf; but to them, in turn, ithad been pass

cepted it as one of the restrictions of life. For hehad already learned that there were such re

appeased of severalfamines, had borne in upon him that all was not freedom in the world, thatto life there was limitations

t and the things that did not hurt. And aftersuch classification he avoided the things that hurt,

n obedience to the law of that unknown and nameless thing, fear, he kept

ng theintervals that he was awake he kept very quiet, suppressing t

embling with itsown daring, and cautiously scenting out the contents of the cave. The cubknew only that the sniff was strange, a som

it bristled silently. Howwas he to know that this

nother instinct - that ofconcealment. The cub was in a frenzy of terror, yet he lay withoutmovement or sound, frozen, petrified into immobility, to all appearancesdead. His mother, coming ho

him to keep awayfrom the white wall. Growth is life, and life is for ever destined to makefor light. So there was no damming up the tide of life that was risingwithin him - rising with ever

th the tender little nose he thrust out tentatively before him. Thesubstance of the wall seemed as permeable and yielding as light. And a

solidity. And ever thelight grew brighter. Fear

y this abrupt and tremendousextension of space. Automatically, his eyes were adjusting themselves tothe brightness, focusing themselves to meet the increased distance ofobjects. At first, the wall had leaped beyond his vision. He now saw itagain; but

on him. This was more

gazed out on the world. Hewas very much afraid

ledweakly in an attempt at a ferocious and intimidating snarl. Out of

while growth had assumed the guise of curiosity. He began tonotice near objects - an open portion of the stream that flashed in the sun,the blasted pine-t

epped boldly out upon the air. His hind-legs still rested on the cave-lip,so he fell forward head downward. The earth struck him a harsh blow on

o wreak upon himsome terrific hurt. Growth was now ro

asingly. This was a different proposition fromcrouching in frozen fear while the unknown lu

ot fear, but terror

to a stop, he gave one lastagonised yell and then a long, whimpering wail. Also, and quite as amatter of course,

world, the unknown had let go its hold of him, and here he was withouthurt. But the first man on Mars would have experienced less unfamiliarity

him, the moss- berry plant justbeyond, and the dead trunk of the blasted pine that stood on the edge of anopen space among the trees. A squirrel, running around the base of thetrunk, c

was his confidence, that when a moose-bird impudently hopped up to him,he reached out at it with a playful paw. The result was a sharp pec

nd had already made anunconscious classificatio

n one place, but the live things moved about, and there was notelling what they migh

overstepped and stubbed his nose. Quite as often he understepped andstubbed his feet. Then there were the pebbles and stones that turned underhim when he trod upon them; and from them he came to know that thething

s learning to calculate his own muscular movements, to know hisphysical limi

blundering that hechanced upon the shrewdly hidden ptarmigan nest. He fell into it. He hadessayed to walk along the trunk of a fallen pine. The rotten bark gave wayunder his feet, and with a desp

ened at them. Then heperceived that they were

re accelerated. This wasa source of enjoyment to

warm blood ran in his mouth. The taste of it wasgood. This was meat, the same as his mother gave him, only it was alivebetween his teeth and therefore better. So he a

rose up, snarling, striking out with hispaws. He sank his tiny teeth into one of the wings and pulled and tuggedsturdily. The ptarmigan struggled against him, showering blows upon himwith her free wing. It was his first battle. He was elat

ppy toknow that he was happy. He was thrilling and exulting in

g and growled between h

ers were flying like a snow-fall. The pitch towhich he was aroused was tremendous. All the fighting blood of his breedwas up in him and surging through him. This was living, though he did notknow it. He was realising his own meaning in the wo

ich by now,what of previous adventures was sore. He winced but held on. She peckedhim again and again. From wincing he went to whimpering. He tried toback away from her, oblivious to the fact that by his hol

g out, his chest heaving and panting, his nose stillhurting him and causing him to continue his wh

nstinctively into the shelter of the bush. As he did so, a draught of a

wn out of the blue,

ttention to the winged bolt of the sky. But the cub saw, and it was awarning and a lesson to him - the swift downward swoop of the hawk, theshort skim of its body just above the ground, the strike of its talons in th

ingslike ptarmigan chicks, and to let alone large live things like ptarmiganhens. Nevertheless he felt a little prick of ambition, a sneaking des

ed good. There were no inequalities of surface. Hestepped boldly out on it; and went down, cr

He had no consciousknowledge of death, but like every animal of the Wild, he possessed theinstinct of death. To him it stood as the greatest of hurts. It was the veryessence of the unkn

e, and the sweet air ru

to swim. The nearbank was a yard away; but he had come up with his back to it, and the firstthing his eyes rested upon was the opp

ool. Here was little chance for swimming. The quiet water had becomesuddenly angry. Sometimes he was under, sometimes on top. At all times

s, from which might have been adduc

aptured by the eddy, hewas gently borne to the b

ut any solidity at all. Hisconclusion was that things were not always what they appeared to be. Thecub's fear of the unknown was an inherited distrust, and it had now beenstrengthened b

an all the rest of the things inthe world. Not only was his body tired with the adventures it hadundergone, but his little brain was equally tired. In all the days he hadlived it had not wo

at his feet, he saw an extremely small livething, only several inches long, a young weasel, that, like himself, haddisobediently gone out adventuring. It tried to retreat before him. Heturned it over with his paw. It made a queer, grating

eth in his neck still hurt, but hisfeelings were hurt more grievously, and he sat down and weaklywhimpered. This mother-weasel was so small and so savage. He was yetto lea

pproached morecautiously, and the cub had full opportunity to observe her lean, snakelikebody, and her head, erect, eage

t, and the lean, yellow body disappeared for a moment out of the fieldof his vis

mper, hisfight a struggle to escape. The weasel never relaxed her hold. She hung on,striving to press down with her teeth to the great v

d have been no story towrite about him, had no

butgetting a hold on the jaw instead. The she- wolf flirted her head like t

s closed on the lean, yellow body,and the w

ater than his joy at beingfound. She nozzled him and caressed him and licked the cuts made in himby the weasel's t