<h3>CHAPTER V—THE COVENANT</h3>
<p>When December was well along, Grey Beaver went on a journey up the
Mackenzie. Mit-sah and Kloo-kooch went with him. One sled
he drove himself, drawn by dogs he had traded for or borrowed.
A second and smaller sled was driven by Mit-sah, and to this was harnessed
a team of puppies. It was more of a toy affair than anything else,
yet it was the delight of Mit-sah, who felt that he was beginning to
do a man’s work in the world. Also, he was learning to drive
dogs and to train dogs; while the puppies themselves were being broken
in to the harness. Furthermore, the sled was of some service,
for it carried nearly two hundred pounds of outfit and food.</p>
<p>White Fang had seen the camp-dogs toiling in the harness, so that
he did not resent overmuch the first placing of the harness upon himself.
About his neck was put a moss-stuffed collar, which was connected by
two pulling-traces to a strap that passed around his chest and over
his back. It was to this that was fastened the long rope by which
he pulled at the sled.</p>
<p>There were seven puppies in the team. The others had been born
earlier in the year and were nine and ten months old, while White Fang
was only eight months old. Each dog was fastened to the sled by
a single rope. No two ropes were of the same length, while the
difference in length between any two ropes was at least that of a dog’s
body. Every rope was brought to a ring at the front end of the
sled. The sled itself was without runners, being a birch-bark
toboggan, with upturned forward end to keep it from ploughing under
the snow. This construction enabled the weight of the sled and
load to be distributed over the largest snow-surface; for the snow was
crystal-powder and very soft. Observing the same principle of
widest distribution of weight, the dogs at the ends of their ropes radiated
fan-fashion from the nose of the sled, so that no dog trod in another’s
<p>There was, furthermore, another virtue in the fan-formation.
The ropes of varying length prevented the dogs attacking from the rear
those that ran in front of them. For a dog to attack another,
it would have to turn upon one at a shorter rope. In which case
it would find itself face to face with the dog attacked, and also it
would find itself facing the whip of the driver. But the most
peculiar virtue of all lay in the fact that the dog that strove to attack
one in front of him must pull the sled faster, and that the faster the
sled travelled, the faster could the dog attacked run away. Thus,
the dog behind could never catch up with the one in front. The
faster he ran, the faster ran the one he was after, and the faster ran
all the dogs. Incidentally, the sled went faster, and thus, by
cunning indirection, did man increase his mastery over the beasts.</p>
<p>Mit-sah resembled his father, much of whose grey wisdom he possessed.
In the past he had observed Lip-lip’s persecution of White Fang;
but at that time Lip-lip was another man’s dog, and Mit-sah had
never dared more than to shy an occasional stone at him. But now
Lip-lip was his dog, and he proceeded to wreak his vengeance on him
by putting him at the end of the longest rope. This made Lip-lip
the leader, and was apparently an honour! but in reality it took away
from him all honour, and instead of being bully and master of the pack,
he now found himself hated and persecuted by the pack.</p>
<p>Because he ran at the end of the longest rope, the dogs had always
the view of him running away before them. All that they saw of
him was his bushy tail and fleeing hind legs—a view far less ferocious
and intimidating than his bristling mane and gleaming fangs. Also,
dogs being so constituted in their mental ways, the sight of him running
away gave desire to run after him and a feeling that he ran away from
<p>The moment the sled started, the team took after Lip-lip in a chase
that extended throughout the day. At first he had been prone to
turn upon his pursuers, jealous of his dignity and wrathful; but at
such times Mit-sah would throw the stinging lash of the thirty-foot
cariboo-gut whip into his face and compel him to turn tail and run on.
Lip-lip might face the pack, but he could not face that whip, and all
that was left him to do was to keep his long rope taut and his flanks
ahead of the teeth of his mates.</p>
<p>But a still greater cunning lurked in the recesses of the Indian
mind. To give point to unending pursuit of the leader, Mit-sah
favoured him over the other dogs. These favours aroused in them
jealousy and hatred. In their presence Mit-sah would give him
meat and would give it to him only. This was maddening to them.
They would rage around just outside the throwing-distance of the whip,
while Lip-lip devoured the meat and Mit-sah protected him. And
when there was no meat to give, Mit-sah would keep the team at a distance
and make believe to give meat to Lip-lip.</p>
<p>White Fang took kindly to the work. He had travelled a greater
distance than the other dogs in the yielding of himself to the rule
of the gods, and he had learned more thoroughly the futility of opposing
their will. In addition, the persecution he had suffered from
the pack had made the pack less to him in the scheme of things, and
man more. He had not learned to be dependent on his kind for companionship.
Besides, Kiche was well-nigh forgotten; and the chief outlet of expression
that remained to him was in the allegiance he tendered the gods he had
accepted as masters. So he worked hard, learned discipline, and
was obedient. Faithfulness and willingness characterised his toil.
These are essential traits of the wolf and the wild-dog when they have
become domesticated, and these traits White Fang possessed in unusual
<p>A companionship did exist between White Fang and the other dogs,
but it was one of warfare and enmity. He had never learned to
play with them. He knew only how to fight, and fight with them
he did, returning to them a hundred-fold the snaps and slashes they
had given him in the days when Lip-lip was leader of the pack.
But Lip-lip was no longer leader—except when he fled away before
his mates at the end of his rope, the sled bounding along behind.
In camp he kept close to Mit-sah or Grey Beaver or Kloo-kooch.
He did not dare venture away from the gods, for now the fangs of all
dogs were against him, and he tasted to the dregs the persecution that
had been White Fang’s.</p>
<p>With the overthrow of Lip-lip, White Fang could have become leader
of the pack. But he was too morose and solitary for that.
He merely thrashed his team-mates. Otherwise he ignored them.
They got out of his way when he came along; nor did the boldest of them
ever dare to rob him of his meat. On the contrary, they devoured
their own meat hurriedly, for fear that he would take it away from them.
White Fang knew the law well: <i>to oppress the weak and obey the strong</i>.
He ate his share of meat as rapidly as he could. And then woe
the dog that had not yet finished! A snarl and a flash of fangs,
and that dog would wail his indignation to the uncomforting stars while
White Fang finished his portion for him.</p>
<p>Every little while, however, one dog or another would flame up in
revolt and be promptly subdued. Thus White Fang was kept in training.
He was jealous of the isolation in which he kept himself in the midst
of the pack, and he fought often to maintain it. But such fights
were of brief duration. He was too quick for the others.
They were slashed open and bleeding before they knew what had happened,
were whipped almost before they had begun to fight.</p>
<p>As rigid as the sled-discipline of the gods, was the discipline maintained
by White Fang amongst his fellows. He never allowed them any latitude.
He compelled them to an unremitting respect for him. They might
do as they pleased amongst themselves. That was no concern of
his. But it <i>was</i> his concern that they leave him alone in
his isolation, get out of his way when he elected to walk among them,
and at all times acknowledge his mastery over them. A hint of
stiff-leggedness on their part, a lifted lip or a bristle of hair, and
he would be upon them, merciless and cruel, swiftly convincing them
of the error of their way.</p>
<p>He was a monstrous tyrant. His mastery was rigid as steel.
He oppressed the weak with a vengeance. Not for nothing had he
been exposed to the pitiless struggles for life in the day of his cubhood,
when his mother and he, alone and unaided, held their own and survived
in the ferocious environment of the Wild. And not for nothing
had he learned to walk softly when superior strength went by.
He oppressed the weak, but he respected the strong. And in the
course of the long journey with Grey Beaver he walked softly indeed
amongst the full-grown dogs in the camps of the strange man-animals
<p>The months passed by. Still continued the journey of Grey Beaver.
White Fang’s strength was developed by the long hours on trail
and the steady toil at the sled; and it would have seemed that his mental
development was well-nigh complete. He had come to know quite
thoroughly the world in which he lived. His outlook was bleak
and materialistic. The world as he saw it was a fierce and brutal
world, a world without warmth, a world in which caresses and affection
and the bright sweetnesses of the spirit did not exist.</p>
<p>He had no affection for Grey Beaver. True, he was a god, but
a most savage god. White Fang was glad to acknowledge his lordship,
but it was a lordship based upon superior intelligence and brute strength.
There was something in the fibre of White Fang’s being that made
his lordship a thing to be desired, else he would not have come back
from the Wild when he did to tender his allegiance. There were
deeps in his nature which had never been sounded. A kind word,
a caressing touch of the hand, on the part of Grey Beaver, might have
sounded these deeps; but Grey Beaver did not caress, nor speak kind
words. It was not his way. His primacy was savage, and savagely
he ruled, administering justice with a club, punishing transgression
with the pain of a blow, and rewarding merit, not by kindness, but by
withholding a blow.</p>
<p>So White Fang knew nothing of the heaven a man’s hand might
contain for him. Besides, he did not like the hands of the man-animals.
He was suspicious of them. It was true that they sometimes gave
meat, but more often they gave hurt. Hands were things to keep
away from. They hurled stones, wielded sticks and clubs and whips,
administered slaps and clouts, and, when they touched him, were cunning
to hurt with pinch and twist and wrench. In strange villages he
had encountered the hands of the children and learned that they were
cruel to hurt. Also, he had once nearly had an eye poked out by
a toddling papoose. From these experiences he became suspicious
of all children. He could not tolerate them. When they came
near with their ominous hands, he got up.</p>
<p>It was in a village at the Great Slave Lake, that, in the course
of resenting the evil of the hands of the man-animals, he came to modify
the law that he had learned from Grey Beaver: namely, that the unpardonable
crime was to bite one of the gods. In this village, after the
custom of all dogs in all villages, White Fang went foraging, for food.
A boy was chopping frozen moose-meat with an axe, and the chips were
flying in the snow. White Fang, sliding by in quest of meat, stopped
and began to eat the chips. He observed the boy lay down the axe
and take up a stout club. White Fang sprang clear, just in time
to escape the descending blow. The boy pursued him, and he, a
stranger in the village, fled between two tepees to find himself cornered
against a high earth bank.</p>
<p>There was no escape for White Fang. The only way out was between
the two tepees, and this the boy guarded. Holding his club prepared
to strike, he drew in on his cornered quarry. White Fang was furious.
He faced the boy, bristling and snarling, his sense of justice outraged.
He knew the law of forage. All the wastage of meat, such as the
frozen chips, belonged to the dog that found it. He had done no
wrong, broken no law, yet here was this boy preparing to give him a
beating. White Fang scarcely knew what happened. He did
it in a surge of rage. And he did it so quickly that the boy did
not know either. All the boy knew was that he had in some unaccountable
way been overturned into the snow, and that his club-hand had been ripped
wide open by White Fang’s teeth.</p>
<p>But White Fang knew that he had broken the law of the gods.
He had driven his teeth into the sacred flesh of one of them, and could
expect nothing but a most terrible punishment. He fled away to
Grey Beaver, behind whose protecting legs he crouched when the bitten
boy and the boy’s family came, demanding vengeance. But
they went away with vengeance unsatisfied. Grey Beaver defended
White Fang. So did Mit-sah and Kloo-kooch. White Fang, listening
to the wordy war and watching the angry gestures, knew that his act
was justified. And so it came that he learned there were gods
and gods. There were his gods, and there were other gods, and
between them there was a difference. Justice or injustice, it
was all the same, he must take all things from the hands of his own
gods. But he was not compelled to take injustice from the other
gods. It was his privilege to resent it with his teeth.
And this also was a law of the gods.</p>
<p>Before the day was out, White Fang was to learn more about this law.
Mit-sah, alone, gathering firewood in the forest, encountered the boy
that had been bitten. With him were other boys. Hot words
passed. Then all the boys attacked Mit-sah. It was going
hard with him. Blows were raining upon him from all sides.
White Fang looked on at first. This was an affair of the gods,
and no concern of his. Then he realised that this was Mit-sah,
one of his own particular gods, who was being maltreated. It was
no reasoned impulse that made White Fang do what he then did.
A mad rush of anger sent him leaping in amongst the combatants.
Five minutes later the landscape was covered with fleeing boys, many
of whom dripped blood upon the snow in token that White Fang’s
teeth had not been idle. When Mit-sah told the story in camp,
Grey Beaver ordered meat to be given to White Fang. He ordered
much meat to be given, and White Fang, gorged and sleepy by the fire,
knew that the law had received its verification.</p>
<p>It was in line with these experiences that White Fang came to learn
the law of property and the duty of the defence of property. From
the protection of his god’s body to the protection of his god’s
possessions was a step, and this step he made. What was his god’s
was to be defended against all the world—even to the extent of
biting other gods. Not only was such an act sacrilegious in its
nature, but it was fraught with peril. The gods were all-powerful,
and a dog was no match against them; yet White Fang learned to face
them, fiercely belligerent and unafraid. Duty rose above fear,
and thieving gods learned to leave Grey Beaver’s property alone.</p>
<p>One thing, in this connection, White Fang quickly learnt, and that
was that a thieving god was usually a cowardly god and prone to run
away at the sounding of the alarm. Also, he learned that but brief
time elapsed between his sounding of the alarm and Grey Beaver coming
to his aid. He came to know that it was not fear of him that drove
the thief away, but fear of Grey Beaver. White Fang did not give
the alarm by barking. He never barked. His method was to
drive straight at the intruder, and to sink his teeth in if he could.
Because he was morose and solitary, having nothing to do with the other
dogs, he was unusually fitted to guard his master’s property;
and in this he was encouraged and trained by Grey Beaver. One
result of this was to make White Fang more ferocious and indomitable,
and more solitary.</p>
<p>The months went by, binding stronger and stronger the covenant between
dog and man. This was the ancient covenant that the first wolf
that came in from the Wild entered into with man. And, like all
succeeding wolves and wild dogs that had done likewise, White Fang worked
the covenant out for himself. The terms were simple. For
the possession of a flesh-and-blood god, he exchanged his own liberty.
Food and fire, protection and companionship, were some of the things
he received from the god. In return, he guarded the god’s
property, defended his body, worked for him, and obeyed him.</p>
<p>The possession of a god implies service. White Fang’s
was a service of duty and awe, but not of love. He did not know
what love was. He had no experience of love. Kiche was a
remote memory. Besides, not only had he abandoned the Wild and
his kind when he gave himself up to man, but the terms of the covenant
were such that if ever he met Kiche again he would not desert his god
to go with her. His allegiance to man seemed somehow a law of
his being greater than the love of liberty, of kind and kin.</p>
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