第 24 节
作者:
摄氏0度 更新:2022-11-23 12:12 字数:9321
such a fight was a signal for all the young dogs in camp to come running
and pitch upon him。
Out of this pack…persecution he learned two important things: how to
take care of himself in a mass…fight against him … and how; on a single dog;
to inflict the greatest amount of damage in the briefest space of time。 To
keep one's feet in the midst of the hostile mass meant life; and this he
learnt well。 He became cat… like in his ability to stay on his feet。 Even
grown dogs might hurtle him backward or sideways with the impact of
their heavy bodies; and backward or sideways he would go; in the air or
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sliding on the ground; but always with his legs under him and his feet
downward to the mother earth。
When dogs fight; there are usually preliminaries to the actual combat …
snarlings and bristlings and stiff…legged struttings。 But White Fang learned
to omit these preliminaries。 Delay meant the coming against him of all the
young dogs。 He must do his work quickly and get away。 So he learnt to
give no warning of his intention。 He rushed in and snapped and slashed on
the instant; without notice; before his foe could prepare to meet him。 Thus
he learned how to inflict quick and severe damage。 Also he learned the
value of surprise。 A dog; taken off its guard; its shoulder slashed open or
its ear ripped in ribbons before it knew what was happening; was a dog
half whipped。
Furthermore; it was remarkably easy to overthrow a dog taken by
surprise; while a dog; thus overthrown; invariably exposed for a moment
the soft underside of its neck … the vulnerable point at which to strike for
its life。 White Fang knew this point。 It was a knowledge bequeathed to
him directly from the hunting generation of wolves。 So it was that White
Fang's method when he took the offensive; was: first to find a young dog
alone; second; to surprise it and knock it off its feet; and third; to drive in
with his teeth at the soft throat。
Being but partly grown his jaws had not yet become large enough nor
strong enough to make his throat…attack deadly; but many a young dog
went around camp with a lacerated throat in token of White Fang's
intention。 And one day; catching one of his enemies alone on the edge of
the woods; he managed; by repeatedly overthrowing him and attacking the
throat; to cut the great vein and let out the life。 There was a great row that
night。 He had been observed; the news had been carried to the dead dog's
master; the squaws remembered all the instances of stolen meat; and Grey
Beaver was beset by many angry voices。 But he resolutely held the door of
his tepee; inside which he had placed the culprit; and refused to permit the
vengeance for which his tribespeople clamoured。
White Fang became hated by man and dog。 During this period of his
development he never knew a moment's security。 The tooth of every dog
was against him; the hand of every man。 He was greeted with snarls by his
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kind; with curses and stones by his gods。 He lived tensely。 He was always
keyed up; alert for attack; wary of being attacked; with an eye for sudden
and unexpected missiles; prepared to act precipitately and coolly; to leap
in with a flash of teeth; or to leap away with a menacing snarl。
As for snarling he could snarl more terribly than any dog; young or old;
in camp。 The intent of the snarl is to warn or frighten; and judgment is
required to know when it should be used。 White Fang knew how to make
it and when to make it。 Into his snarl he incorporated all that was vicious;
malignant; and horrible。 With nose serrulated by continuous spasms; hair
bristling in recurrent waves; tongue whipping out like a red snake and
whipping back again; ears flattened down; eyes gleaming hatred; lips
wrinkled back; and fangs exposed and dripping; he could compel a pause
on the part of almost any assailant。 A temporary pause; when taken off his
guard; gave him the vital moment in which to think and determine his
action。 But often a pause so gained lengthened out until it evolved into a
complete cessation from the attack。 And before more than one of the
grown dogs White Fang's snarl enabled him to beat an honourable retreat。
An outcast himself from the pack of the part…grown dogs; his
sanguinary methods and remarkable efficiency made the pack pay for its
persecution of him。 Not permitted himself to run with the pack; the curious
state of affairs obtained that no member of the pack could run outside the
pack。 White Fang would not permit it。 What of his bushwhacking and
waylaying tactics; the young dogs were afraid to run by themselves。 With
the exception of Lip…lip; they were compelled to hunch together for mutual
protection against the terrible enemy they had made。 A puppy alone by the
river bank meant a puppy dead or a puppy that aroused the camp with its
shrill pain and terror as it fled back from the wolf…cub that had waylaid it。
But White Fang's reprisals did not cease; even when the young dogs
had learned thoroughly that they must stay together。 He attacked them
when he caught them alone; and they attacked him when they were
bunched。 The sight of him was sufficient to start them rushing after him; at
which times his swiftness usually carried him into safety。 But woe the dog
that outran his fellows in such pursuit! White Fang had learned to turn
suddenly upon the pursuer that was ahead of the pack and thoroughly to
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rip him up before the pack could arrive。 This occurred with great
frequency; for; once in full cry; the dogs were prone to forget themselves
in the excitement of the chase; while White Fang never forgot himself。
Stealing backward glances as he ran; he was always ready to whirl around
and down the overzealous pursuer that outran his fellows。
Young dogs are bound to play; and out of the exigencies of the
situation they realised their play in this mimic warfare。 Thus it was that the
hunt of White Fang became their chief game … a deadly game; withal; and
at all times a serious game。 He; on the other hand; being the fastest…footed;
was unafraid to venture anywhere。 During the period that he waited vainly
for his mother to come back; he led the pack many a wild chase through
the adjacent woods。 But the pack invariably lost him。 Its noise and outcry
warned him of its presence; while he ran alone; velvet…footed; silently; a
moving shadow among the trees after the manner of his father and mother
before him。 Further he was more directly connected with the Wild than
they; and he knew more of its secrets and stratagems。 A favourite trick of
his was to lose his trail in running water and then lie quietly in a near…by
thicket while their baffled cries arose around him。
Hated by his kind and by mankind; indomitable; perpetually warred
upon and himself waging perpetual war; his development was rapid and
one…sided。 This was no soil for kindliness and affection to blossom in。 Of
such things he had not the faintest glimmering。 The code he learned was to
obey the strong and to oppress the weak。 Grey Beaver was a god; and
strong。 Therefore White Fang obeyed him。 But the dog younger or smaller
than himself was weak; a thing to be destroyed。 His development was in
the direction of power。 In order to face the constant danger of hurt and
even of destruction; his predatory and protective faculties were unduly
developed。 He became quicker of movement than the other dogs; swifter
of foot; craftier; deadlier; more lithe; more lean with ironlike muscle and
sinew; more enduring; more cruel; more ferocious; and more intelligent。
He had to become all these things; else he would not have held his own
nor survive the hostile environment in which he found himself。
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