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and lusts。
He was always a little demon of fury when he chanced upon a stray
ptarmigan。 Never did he fail to respond savagely to the chatter of the
squirrel he had first met on the blasted pine。 While the sight of a moose…
bird almost invariably put him into the wildest of rages； for he never
forgot the peck on the nose he had received from the first of that ilk he
encountered。
But there were times when even a moose…bird failed to affect him； and
those were times when he felt himself to be in danger from some other
prowling meat hunter。 He never forgot the hawk； and its moving shadow
always sent him crouching into the nearest thicket。 He no longer sprawled
and straddled； and already he was developing the gait of his mother；
slinking and furtive； apparently without exertion； yet sliding along with a
swiftness that was as deceptive as it was imperceptible。
In the matter of meat； his luck had been all in the beginning。 The seven
ptarmigan chicks and the baby weasel represented the sum of his killings。
His desire to kill strengthened with the days； and he cherished hungry
ambitions for the squirrel that chattered so volubly and always informed
all wild creatures that the wolf…cub was approaching。 But as birds flew in
the air； squirrels could climb trees； and the cub could only try to crawl
unobserved upon the squirrel when it was on the ground。
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The cub entertained a great respect for his mother。 She could get meat；
and she never failed to bring him his share。 Further； she was unafraid of
things。 It did not occur to him that this fearlessness was founded upon
experience and knowledge。 Its effect on him was that of an impression of
power。 His mother represented power； and as he grew older he felt this
power in the sharper admonishment of her paw； while the reproving nudge
of her nose gave place to the slash of her fangs。 For this； likewise； he
respected his mother。 She compelled obedience from him； and the older he
grew the shorter grew her temper。
Famine came again； and the cub with clearer consciousness knew once
more the bite of hunger。 The she…wolf ran herself thin in the quest for meat。
She rarely slept any more in the cave； spending most of her time on the
meat…trail； and spending it vainly。 This famine was not a long one； but it
was severe while it lasted。 The cub found no more milk in his mother's
breast； nor did he get one mouthful of meat for himself。
Before； he had hunted in play； for the sheer joyousness of it； now he
hunted in deadly earnestness； and found nothing。 Yet the failure of it
accelerated his development。 He studied the habits of the squirrel with
greater carefulness； and strove with greater craft to steal upon it and
surprise it。 He studied the wood…mice and tried to dig them out of their
burrows； and he learned much about the ways of moose…birds and
woodpeckers。 And there came a day when the hawk's shadow did not drive
him crouching into the bushes。 He had grown stronger and wiser； and
more confident。 Also； he was desperate。 So he sat on his haunches；
conspicuously in an open space； and challenged the hawk down out of the
sky。 For he knew that there； floating in the blue above him； was meat； the
meat his stomach yearned after so insistently。 But the hawk refused to
come down and give battle； and the cub crawled away into a thicket and
whimpered his disappointment and hunger。
The famine broke。 The she…wolf brought home meat。 It was strange
meat； different from any she had ever brought before。 It was a lynx kitten；
partly grown； like the cub； but not so large。 And it was all for him。 His
mother had satisfied her hunger elsewhere； though he did not know that it
was the rest of the lynx litter that had gone to satisfy her。 Nor did he know
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White Fang
the desperateness of her deed。 He knew only that the velvet…furred kitten
was meat； and he ate and waxed happier with every mouthful。
A full stomach conduces to inaction； and the cub lay in the cave；
sleeping against his mother's side。 He was aroused by her snarling。 Never
had he heard her snarl so terribly。 Possibly in her whole life it was the
most terrible snarl she ever gave。 There was reason for it； and none knew
it better than she。 A lynx's lair is not despoiled with impunity。 In the full
glare of the afternoon light； crouching in the entrance of the cave； the cub
saw the lynx… mother。 The hair rippled up along his back at the sight。 Here
was fear； and it did not require his instinct to tell him of it。 And if sight
alone were not sufficient； the cry of rage the intruder gave； beginning with
a snarl and rushing abruptly upward into a hoarse screech； was convincing
enough in itself。
The cub felt the prod of the life that was in him； and stood up and
snarled valiantly by his mother's side。 But she thrust him ignominiously
away and behind her。 Because of the low…roofed entrance the lynx could
not leap in； and when she made a crawling rush of it the she…wolf sprang
upon her and pinned her down。 The cub saw little of the battle。 There was
a tremendous snarling and spitting and screeching。 The two animals
threshed about； the lynx ripping and tearing with her claws and using her
teeth as well； while the she…wolf used her teeth alone。
Once； the cub sprang in and sank his teeth into the hind leg of the lynx。
He clung on； growling savagely。 Though he did not know it； by the weight
of his body he clogged the action of the leg and thereby saved his mother
much damage。 A change in the battle crushed him under both their bodies
and wrenched loose his hold。 The next moment the two mothers separated；
and； before they rushed together again； the lynx lashed out at the cub with
a huge fore…paw that ripped his shoulder open to the bone and sent him
hurtling sidewise against the wall。 Then was added to the uproar the cub's
shrill yelp of pain and fright。 But the fight lasted so long that he had time
to cry himself out and to experience a second burst of courage； and the end
of the battle found him again clinging to a hind…leg and furiously growling
between his teeth。
T