Білий ікол

           "Oh,shutup!"Scottcriedoutthroughthedarkness. "Younagworsethanawoman." 

           "I’magreein’withyou,"thedog-musheranswered,andWeedonScottwasnotquitesurewhetherornottheotherhadsnickered. 

           ThenextdayWhiteFang’sanxietyandrestlessnesswereevenmorepronounced. Hedoggedhismaster’sheelswheneverheleftthecabin,andhauntedthefrontstoopwhenheremainedinside. Throughtheopendoorhecouldcatchglimpsesoftheluggageonthefloor. Thegriphadbeenjoinedbytwolargecanvasbagsandabox. Mattwasrollingthemaster’sblanketsandfurrobeinsideasmalltarpaulin. WhiteFangwhinedashewatchedtheoperation. 

           LaterontwoIndiansarrived. HewatchedthemcloselyastheyshoulderedtheluggageandwereledoffdownthehillbyMatt,whocarriedthebeddingandthegrip.ButWhiteFangdidnotfollowthem.Themasterwasstillinthecabin. Afteratime,Mattreturned. ThemastercametothedoorandcalledWhiteFanginside. 

           "Youpoordevil,"hesaidgently,rubbingWhiteFang’searsandtappinghisspine. "I’mhittingthelongtrail,oldman,whereyoucannotfollow. Nowgivemeagrowl—thelast,good,good-byegrowl." 

           ButWhiteFangrefusedtogrowl. Instead,andafterawistful,searchinglook,hesnuggledin,burrowinghisheadoutofsightbetweenthemaster’sarmandbody. 

           "Theresheblows!"Mattcried. FromtheYukonarosethehoarsebellowingofariversteamboat. "You’vegottocutitshort. Besureandlockthefrontdoor. I’llgoouttheback. Getamoveon!"