Джек Лондон - The Call of the Wild / Зов предков

“‘Answers to the name of Buck,’” the man read, quoting from the saloon-keeper’s letter which had described the cage and contents. “Well, Buck, my boy,” he went on in a kind voice, “You’ve learnt your place, and I know mine. Be a good dog and all will go well. Be a bad dog, and I’ll crash you. Understand?”

As he spoke he fearlessly touched the head he had hit, and though Buck’s hair involuntarily bristled under his hand, he did not protest. When the man brought him water he drank eagerly, and later ate a portion of raw meat from the man’s hand.

He was beaten (he knew that); but he was not broken. He saw that he stood no chance against [8] to stand no chance against somebody – не иметь возможности противостоять кому-либо a man with a club. He had learnt the lesson, and he never forgot it. That club was a revelation. It was his introduction to the primitive law, and he understood it quickly. As the days went by, other dogs came, in cages and at the ends of ropes, some calmly, and some raging as he had come; and he watched them pass under the reign of the man in the red sweater. The lesson was simple: a man with a club was a master to be obeyed, though not necessarily tolerated. This last Buck never did, though he saw beaten dogs that wagged their tails, [9] to wag one’s tail – вилять хвостом and licked his hand. Also he saw one dog, that neither tolerated nor obeyed, finally killed in the fight for mastery.

Now and again men came, who talked to the man in the red sweater. And at such times money passed between them and the strangers took one or more of the dogs away with them. Buck wondered where they went, for they never came back; but the fear of the future was strong upon him, and he was glad each time when he was not chosen.

Yet his time came, in the end, in the form of a little wizened man who spoke broken English and had many strange exclamations.

“Sacredam!” he cried, when he saw Buck. “That one bully dog! Eh? How much?”

“Three hundred,” answered the man in the red sweater. “And as it’s government money, you can spend it safely, eh, Perrault?”

Perrault smiled. Considering that the price of dogs had been raised high by the demand, it was not an unfair sum for so fine an animal. The Canadian Government would be no loser. Perrault knew dogs, and when he looked at Buck he knew that he was one in ten thousands.

Buck saw money pass between them, and was not surprised when Curly, a good-natured Newfoundland, [10] a good-natured Newfoundland – добродушный ньюфаундленд and he were led away by the little wizened man. That was the last he saw of [11] to see the last of something – видеть что-либо в последний раз the man in the red sweater. And as Curly and he looked at Seattle from the deck of the ship, it was the last he saw of the warm Southland. Curly and he were taken below by Perrault and given to a black-faced giant called Francois. Perrault was a French-Canadian, and swarthy; but Francois was a French-Canadian half-breed, and twice as swarthy. They were a new kind of men to Buck, and, though he had no affection for them, he honestly respected them. He quickly learnt that Perrault and Francois were fair men, calm and objective, and too wise to be fooled by dogs.

On the ship, Buck and Curly joined two other dogs. One of them was a big, snow-white fellow from Spitzbergen who had been brought away by a whaling captain, [12] a whaling captain – капитан китобойного судна and who had later accompanied a Geological Survey into the Barrens. He was friendly, in a treacherous sort of way, smiling into one’s face the while he planned some trick. The other dog showed plainly that all he desired was to be left alone, [13] to leave alone – оставить в покое and further, that there would be trouble if he were not left alone. “Dave” he was called, and he ate and slept, and took interest in nothing, not even when the ship was caught in a storm. When Buck and Curly were half wild with fear, he raised his head as though annoyed, looked at them, yawned, and went to sleep again.

Though one day was very like another, it was clear that the weather was slowly becoming colder. At last, one morning, there was the atmosphere of excitement on the ship. Francois brought them on deck. At the first step upon the cold surface, Buck’s feet sank into a white something very like mud. He sprang back with a snort. More of this white thing was falling through the air. He shook himself, but more of it fell upon him. He sniffed it curiously, then licked it with his tongue. It bit like fire, and the next instant was gone. This puzzled him. He tried it again, with the same result. Those who looked laughed loudly, and he felt ashamed, he knew not why, for it was his first snow.

Buck’s first day on the Dyea beach was like a nightmare. Every hour was filled with shock. He had been suddenly taken from the heart of civilization and thrown into the heart of primordial things. Here was neither peace, nor rest, nor a moment’s safety, for these dogs and men were not town dogs and men. They were cruel, all of them, and knew no law but the law of club and fang.

He had never seen dogs fight as these wolfish creatures fought, and his first experience taught him an unforgettable lesson. It was not he but Curly who was the victim. She, in her friendly way, approached a husky dog, big, though not half so large as she. There was no warning, only a leap, a metallic clip of teeth, and Curly’s face was ripped open [14] to ripe open – порвать, разодрать from eye to jaw.

It was the wolf manner of fighting, to strike and leap away. Thirty or forty huskies surrounded the fighters. Buck did not understand that, nor the eager way with which they were licking their chops. [15] to lick one’s chops – облизываться Curly rushed at her antagonist, who struck again and leaped aside. He met her next rush with his chest, which threw her off her feet. She never stood up again. This was what the huskies had waited for. They closed in upon her, [16] to close in upon somebody – сомкнуться над кем-то, навалиться, наброситься snarling and yelping, and she was buried, screaming with agony, beneath the mass of bodies.

Buck was shocked. He saw Spitz run out his scarlet tongue as if laughing; and he saw Francois, with an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men with clubs were helping him. Two minutes from the time Curly went down, all dogs were clubbed off. But she lay there lifeless in the bloody snow, practically torn to pieces, the swarthy half-breed standing over her and cursing horribly. The scene often came back to Buck to trouble him in his sleep. So that was the way. No fair play. Once down, that was the end of you. Well, he would see to it [17] to see to something – убедиться, проследить за чем-либо that he never went down. Spitz ran out his tongue and laughed again, and from that moment Buck hated him.

Before he had recovered from the shock, he received another one. Francois fastened upon him a harness, such as he had seen people put on the horses at home. So he was set to work. He was hurt by being made a draught animal, [18] a draught animal – тягловое животное but he was too wise to protest. He did his best, though it was all new and strange. Francois demanded instant obedience – and with his whip received instant obedience. Buck learnt easily, and under the combined tuition of Dave and Spitz – experienced sled-dogs and cruel teachers – and Francois made remarkable progress. Soon he knew enough to stop at “ho,” to go ahead at “mush,” to turn and to keep clear when the sled went downhill.