第 21 节
作者:摄氏0度      更新:2022-11-23 12:12      字数:9322
  Kiche   licked   White   Fang   soothingly   with   her   tongue;   and   tried        to
  prevail upon him to remain with her。 But his curiosity was rampant; and
  several   minutes   later   he   was   venturing   forth   on   a   new   quest。   He   came
  upon   one   of   the   man…animals;   Grey   Beaver;   who   was   squatting   on   his
  hams and doing something with sticks and dry moss spread before him on
  the ground。 White Fang came near to him and watched。 Grey Beaver made
  mouth…noises which White Fang interpreted as not hostile; so he came still
  nearer。
  Women and children were carrying more sticks and branches to Grey
  Beaver。 It was evidently an affair of moment。 White Fang came in until he
  touched Grey Beaver's knee; so curious was he; and already forgetful that
  this was a terrible man…animal。 Suddenly he saw a strange thing like mist
  beginning to arise from the sticks and moss beneath Grey Beaver's hands。
  Then; amongst the sticks themselves; appeared a live thing; twisting and
  turning; of a colour like the colour of the sun in the sky。 White Fang knew
  nothing about fire。 It drew him as the light; in the mouth of the cave had
  drawn him in his early puppyhood。 He crawled the several steps toward
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  the   flame。   He   heard   Grey   Beaver   chuckle   above   him;   and   he   knew   the
  sound was not hostile。 Then his nose touched the flame; and at the same
  instant his little tongue went out to it。
  For a moment he was paralysed。 The unknown; lurking in the midst of
  the    sticks   and   moss;    was    savagely    clutching     him    by   the  nose。    He
  scrambled backward; bursting out in an astonished explosion of ki… yi's。 At
  the sound; Kiche leaped snarling to the end of her stick; and there raged
  terribly because she could not come to his aid。 But Grey Beaver laughed
  loudly; and slapped his thighs; and told the happening to all the rest of the
  camp; till everybody was laughing uproariously。 But White Fang sat on his
  haunches and ki… yi'd and ki…yi'd; a forlorn and pitiable little figure in the
  midst of the man…animals。
  It was the worst hurt he had ever known。 Both nose and tongue had
  been   scorched   by  the   live   thing;   sun…coloured;   that   had   grown   up   under
  Grey   Beaver's   hands。   He   cried   and   cried   interminably;   and   every   fresh
  wail was greeted by bursts of laughter on the part of the man…animals。 He
  tried to soothe his nose with his tongue; but the tongue was burnt too; and
  the two hurts coming together produced greater hurt; whereupon he cried
  more hopelessly and helplessly than ever。
  And then shame came to him。 He knew laughter and the meaning of it。
  It   is   not   given   us to   know   how   some   animals   know   laughter;   and   know
  when they are being laughed at; but it was this same way that White Fang
  knew it。 And he felt shame that the man…animals should be laughing at him。
  He   turned   and   fled   away;   not   from   the   hurt   of   the   fire;   but   from   the
  laughter that sank even deeper; and hurt in the spirit of him。 And he fled to
  Kiche; raging at the end of her stick like an animal gone mad … to Kiche;
  the one creature in the world who was not laughing at him。
  Twilight   drew   down   and   night   came   on;   and  White   Fang   lay   by   his
  mother's side。 His nose and tongue still   hurt; but he was perplexed by  a
  greater trouble。 He was homesick。 He felt a vacancy in him; a need for the
  hush and quietude of the stream and the cave in the cliff。 Life had become
  too populous。 There were so many of the man…animals; men; women; and
  children; all making noises and irritations。 And there were the dogs; ever
  squabbling   and bickering; bursting   into   uproars   and   creating   confusions。
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  The restful loneliness of the only life he had known was gone。 Here the
  very    air  was   palpitant   with   life。  It  hummed      and   buzzed    unceasingly。
  Continually      changing      its  intensity   and   abruptly     variant   in  pitch;   it
  impinged   on   his   nerves   and   senses;   made   him   nervous   and   restless   and
  worried him with a perpetual imminence of happening。
  He watched the man…animals coming and going and moving about the
  camp。   In   fashion   distantly   resembling   the   way   men   look   upon   the   gods
  they create; so looked White Fang upon the man…animals before him。 They
  were superior creatures; of a verity; gods。 To his dim comprehension they
  were as much wonder…workers as gods are to men。 They were creatures of
  mastery;   possessing      all   manner   of   unknown   and   impossible   potencies;
  overlords of the alive and the not alive … making obey that which moved;
  imparting   movement   to   that   which   did   not   move;   and   making   life;   sun…
  coloured and biting life; to grow out of dead moss and wood。 They were
  fire…makers! They were gods。
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  CHAPTER II … THE BONDAGE
  The days were thronged with experience for White Fang。 During the
  time   that   Kiche   was   tied   by   the   stick;   he   ran   about   over   all   the   camp;
  inquiring; investigating; learning。 He quickly came to know much of the
  ways   of   the   man…animals;   but   familiarity   did   not   breed   contempt。   The
  more he   came to   know them; the   more   they vindicated   their   superiority;
  the more they displayed their mysterious powers; the greater loomed their
  god…likeness。
  To man has been given the grief; often; of seeing his gods overthrown
  and his altars crumbling; but to the wolf and the wild dog that have come
  in to crouch at man's feet; this grief has never come。 Unlike man; whose
  gods are of the unseen and the overguessed; vapours and mists of fancy
  eluding the garmenture of reality; wandering wraiths of desired goodness
  and power; intangible out…croppings of self into the realm of spirit … unlike
  man;   the   wolf   and   the   wild   dog   that   have   come   in   to   the   fire   find   their
  gods   in   the   living   flesh;   solid   to   the   touch;   occupying   earth…space   and
  requiring time   for   the   accomplishment   of their   ends   and   their   existence。
  No effort of faith is necessary to believe in such a god; no effort of will
  can possibly induce disbelief in such a god。 There is no getting away from
  it。 There it stands; on its two hind…legs; club in hand; immensely potential;
  passionate      and    wrathful    and    loving;   god    and   mystery     and    power     all
  wrapped   up   and   around   by   flesh   that   bleeds   when   it   is   torn   and   that   is
  good to eat like any flesh。
  And      so   it  was    with   White     Fang。     The    man…animals       were     gods
  unmistakable   and   unescapable。   As   his   mother;   Kiche;   had   rendered   her
  allegiance   to   them   at   the   first   cry   of   her   name;   so   he   was   beginning   to
  render   his   allegiance。   He   gave   them   the   trail   as   a   privilege   indubitably
  theirs。 When they walked; he got out of their way。 When they called; he
  came。 When they threatened; he   cowered down。 When they  commanded
  him   to   go;   he   went   away   hurriedly。   For   behind   any   wish   of   theirs   was
  power to enforce that wish; power that hurt; power that expressed itself in
  clouts and clubs; in flying stones and stinging lashes of whips。
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  He belonged to them as all dogs belonged to them。 His actions were
  theirs to command。 His body was theirs to maul; to stamp upon; to tolerate。
  Such   was   the  lesson   that   was   quickly   borne   in   upon   him。   It   came   hard;
  going as it did; counter to much that was strong and dominant in his own
  nature; and; while he disliked it in the learning of it; unknown to himself
  he was learning to like it。 It was a placing of his destiny in another's hands;
  a    shifting   of   the   responsibilities     of   existence。     This    in  itself   was
  compensation;  for  it   is   always   easier   to lean   upon   another   than   to   stand
  alone。
  But it did not all happen in a day; this giving over of himself; body and
  soul;    to  the  man…animals。       He   could   not   immediately      forego    his  wild
  heritage and his memories of the Wild。 There were days when he crept to
  the edge of the forest and stood and listened to s