So, in the night, when the men in the fort were asleep, White Fangapplied his teeth to the stick that held him. The wood was seasoned anddry, and it was tied so closely to his neck that he could scarcely get histeeth to it. It was only by the severest muscular exertion and neck-archingthat he succeeded in getting the wood between his teeth, and barelybetween his teeth at that; and it was only by the exercise of an immensepatience, extending through many hours, that he succeeded in gnawingthrough the stick. This was something that dogs were not supposed to do.
It was unprecedented. But White Fang did it, trotting away from the fort inthe early morning, with the end of the stick hanging to his neck.
He was wise. But had he been merely wise he would not have goneback to Grey Beaver who had already twice betrayed him. But there washis faithfulness, and he went back to be betrayed yet a third time. Again heyielded to the tying of a thong around his neck by Grey Beaver, and againBeauty Smith came to claim him. And this time he was beaten even moreseverely than before.
Grey Beaver looked on stolidly while the white man wielded the whip.
He gave no protection. It was no longer his dog. When the beating wasover White Fang was sick. A soft southland dog would have died under it,but not he. His school of life had been sterner, and he was himself ofsterner discount prom dresses. He had too great vitality. His clutch on life was too strong. But he was very sick. At first he was unable to drag himself along, andBeauty Smith had to wait half-an-hour for him. And then, blind andreeling, he followed at Beauty Smith's heels back to the fort. But now he was tied with a chain that defied his teeth, and he strove invain, by lunging, to draw the staple from the timber into which it wasdriven. After a few days, sober and bankrupt, Grey Beaver departed up thePorcupine on his long journey to the Mackenzie. White Fang remained onthe Yukon, the property of a man more than half mad and all brute.