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Born in the wilds of the freezing cold Yukon, White Fang – half-dog, half-wolf – is the only animal in the litter to survive. He soon learns the harsh laws of nature, yet buried deep inside him are the distant memories of affection and love. Will this fiercely independent creature of the wild learn to trust man again?
Richard Adams, prize-winning author of Watership Down, introduces this chilling, beautiful tale of the wild.
of every fibre of his body, the life that was the very substance of his body and that was apart from his own personal life, had yearned toward this light, and urged his body toward it in the same way that the cunning chemistry of a plant urges it toward the sun. Always, in the beginning, before his conscious life dawned, he had crawled toward the mouth of the cave. And in this his brothers and sisters were one with him. Never, in that period, did any of them crawl toward the dark corners of the
mountain. A great fear came upon him. This was more of the terrible unknown. He crouched down on the lip of the cave and gazed out on the world. He was very much afraid. Because it was unknown, it was hostile to him. Therefore the hair stood up on end along his back, and his lips wrinkled weakly in an attempt at a ferocious and intimidating snarl. Out of his puniness and fright he challenged and menaced the whole wide world. Nothing happened. He continued to gaze, and in his interest he forgot
sounded the deeps of White Fang’s nature and brought up to the surface all manner of kindly qualities. But these things had not been so. The clay of White Fang had been moulded until he became what he was – morose and lonely, unloving and ferocious, the enemy of all his kind. 2 The Mad God A small number of white men lived in Fort Yukon. These men had been long in the country. They called themselves Sour-doughs, and took great pride in so classifying themselves. For other men, new in
door was slammed shut behind him. White Fang had never seen such a dog (it was a mastiff); but the size and fierce aspect of the intruder did not deter him. Here was something, not wood nor iron, upon which to wreak his hate. He leaped in with a flash of fangs that ripped down the side of the mastiffs neck. The mastiff shook his head, growled hoarsely, and plunged at White Fang. But White Fang was here, there, and everywhere, always evading and eluding, and always leaping in and slashing with his
safer distance. ‘I’ve hearn sailors talk of sharks followin’ a ship,’ Bill remarked, as he crawled back into the blankets after one such replenishing of the fire. ‘Well, them wolves is land sharks. They know their business better ’n we do, an’ they ain’t a-holdin’ our trail this way for their health. They’re goin’ to get us. They’re sure goin’ to get us, Henry.’ ‘They’ve half got you a’ready, a-talkin’ like that,’ Henry retorted sharply. ‘A man’s half licked when he says he is. An’ you’re half