Читать «Белый клык / White Fang» онлайн - страница 7

“Where are you going?” Henry asked Bill and tried to stop him.

“I won’t stand it. They won’t get any more of our dogs.”

Henry remained behind after Bill had gone. He judged One Ear’s case to be hopeless. He could not break the circle of his pursuers.

Henry sat on the sled. And too quickly, far more quickly than he had expected, it happened. He heard a shot, then two more shots, and he knew that Bill’s ammunition was gone. Then he heard a great outcry of snarls. He recognised One Ear’s yell of pain and terror, and he heard a wolf-cry of an injured animal. And that was all. The snarls ceased. Silence fell down again on the lonely land.

He sat for a long while upon the sled. There was no need for him to go and see what had happened. He knew it as though it had taken place before his eyes. Once, he roused with a start and quickly got the axe out from the sled. But for some time longer he sat and brooded, the two remaining dogs crouching and trembling at his feet.

At last he arose wearily, as though all the determination had gone out of his body, and fastened the dogs to the sled. He passed a rope over his shoulder, and pulled with the dogs. He did not go far. At the first hint of darkness he made a camp and prepared a generous supply of firewood. He fed the dogs, cooked and ate his supper, and made his bed close to the fire.

But he could not enjoy that bed. The wolves were around him and the fire, in a narrow circle, and he saw them plainly: lying down, sitting up, crawling forward on their bellies, or going around. They even slept. Here and there he could see one curled up in the snow like a dog, taking the sleep that he could not now afford.

He kept the fire blazing, because he knew that it alone was between the flesh of his body and their hungry fangs. His two dogs stayed close by him, one on either side, whimpering and snarling desperately. Bit by bit, an inch at a time, with here a wolf bellying forward, and there a wolf bellying forward, the circle narrowed until the man started taking brands from the fire and throwing them into the brutes.

Morning found him tired and worn. He cooked breakfast in the darkness, and at nine o’clock, when the wolves drew back, he started doing what he had planned through the night. He made a wooden scaffold and fixed it high up to the trunks of trees. With the use of a rope, and with the aid of the dogs, he put the coffin to the top of the scaffold.

“They got Bill, and they may get me, but they’ll never get you, young man,” he said, addressing the dead body in the coffin.

Then he took the trail with the lightened sled. Dogs were willing to pull, for they, too, knew that safety was in Fort McGurry. The wolves were now more open in their pursuit. They were very lean – so lean that Henry wondered how they still kept their feet.

He did not dare travel after dark. In grey daylight and dim twilight he prepared an enormous supply of fire-wood.