Поклик предків
The Dominant Primordial Beast
Atsoundofthis,thecryofLifeplungingdownfromLife’sapexinthegripofDeath,thefallpackatBuck’sheelsraisedahell’schorusofdelight.
Buckdidnotcryout. Hedidnotcheckhimself,butdroveinuponSpitz,shouldertoshoulder,sohardthathemissedthethroat. Theyrolledoverandoverinthepowderysnow. Spitzgainedhisfeetalmostasthoughhehadnotbeenoverthrown,slashingBuckdowntheshoulderandleapingclear. Twicehisteethclippedtogether,likethesteeljawsofatrap,ashebackedawayforbetterfooting,withleanandliftinglipsthatwrithedandsnarled.
InaflashBuckknewit.Thetimehadcome.Itwastothedeath. Astheycircledabout,snarling,earslaidback,keenlywatchfulfortheadvantage,thescenecametoBuckwithasenseoffamiliarity. Heseemedtorememberitall—thewhitewoods,andearth,andmoonlight,andthethrillofbattle. Overthewhitenessandsilencebroodedaghostlycalm. Therewasnotthefaintestwhisperofair—nothingmoved,notaleafquivered,thevisiblebreathsofthedogsrisingslowlyandlingeringinthefrostyair. Theyhadmadeshortworkofthesnowshoerabbit,thesedogsthatwereill-tamedwolves;andtheywerenowdrawnupinanexpectantcircle. They,too,weresilent,theireyesonlygleamingandtheirbreathsdriftingslowlyupward. ToBuckitwasnothingneworstrange,thissceneofoldtime. Itwasasthoughithadalwaysbeen,thewontedwayofthings.
