Поклик предків
The Sounding of the Call
Asthedayworealongandthesundroppedtoitsbedinthenorthwest(thedarknesshadcomebackandthefallnightsweresixhourslong),theyoungbullsretracedtheirstepsmoreandmorereluctantlytotheaidoftheirbesetleader. Thedown-comingwinterwasharryingthemontothelowerlevels,anditseemedtheycouldnevershakeoffthistirelesscreaturethatheldthemback. Besides,itwasnotthelifeoftheherd,oroftheyoungbulls,thatwasthreatened. Thelifeofonlyonememberwasdemanded,whichwasaremoterinterestthantheirlives,andintheendtheywerecontenttopaythetoll.
Astwilightfelltheoldbullstoodwithloweredhead,watchinghismates—thecowshehadknown,thecalveshehadfathered,thebullshehadmastered—astheyshambledonatarapidpacethroughthefadinglight. Hecouldnotfollow,forbeforehisnoseleapedthemercilessfangedterrorthatwouldnotlethimgo. Threehundredweightmorethanhalfatonheweighed;hehadlivedalong,stronglife,fulloffightandstruggle,andattheendhefaceddeathattheteethofacreaturewhoseheaddidnotreachbeyondhisgreatknuckledknees.
Fromthenon,nightandday,Buckneverlefthisprey,nevergaveitamoment’srest,neverpermittedittobrowsetheleavesoftreesortheshootsofyoungbirchandwillow. Nordidhegivethewoundedbullopportunitytoslakehisburningthirstintheslendertricklingstreamstheycrossed. Often,indesperation,heburstintolongstretchesofflight.
