Белый клык
The Trail of the Gods
Hiswildflightceasedabruptly. Therewasnoplacetowhichtoflee. Heslunkforlornlythroughthedesertedcamp,smellingtherubbish-heapsandthediscardedragsandtagsofthegods. Hewouldhavebeengladfortherattleofstonesabouthim,flungbyanangrysquaw,gladforthehandofGreyBeaverdescendinguponhiminwrath; whilehewouldhavewelcomedwithdelightLip-lipandthewholesnarling,cowardlypack.
HecametowhereGreyBeaver’stepeehadstood. Inthecentreofthespaceithadoccupied,hesatdown.Hepointedhisnoseatthemoon. Histhroatwasafflictedbyrigidspasms,hismouthopened,andinaheart~brokencrybubbleduphislonelinessandfear,hisgriefforKiche,allhispastsorrowsandmiseriesaswellashisapprehensionofsufferingsanddangerstocome. Itwasthelongwolf-howl,full-throatedandmournful,thefirsthowlhehadeveruttered.
Thecomingofdaylightdispelledhisfearsbutincreasedhisloneliness. Thenakedearth,whichsoshortlybeforehadbeensopopulous;thrusthislonelinessmoreforciblyuponhim. Itdidnottakehimlongtomakeuphismind. Heplungedintotheforestandfollowedtheriverbankdownthestream. Alldayheran.Hedidnotrest. Heseemedmadetorunonforever. Hisiron-likebodyignoredfatigue. Andevenafterfatiguecame,hisheritageofendurancebracedhimtoendlessendeavourandenabledhimtodrivehiscomplainingbodyonward.
Wheretheriverswunginagainstprecipitousbluffs,heclimbedthehighmountainsbehind. Riversandstreamsthatenteredthemainriverhefordedorswam. Oftenhetooktotherim-icethatwasbeginningtoform,andmorethanoncehecrashedthroughandstruggledforlifeintheicycurrent. Alwayshewasonthelookoutforthetrailofthegodswhereitmightleavetheriverandproceedinland.
