Brown Wolf and Other Jack London Stories | Page 7

debated with himself, though this time aloud, at the
same time running his gaze in a judicial way over the mooted animal.
"He was a good worker. He's done a heap of work for me. He never
loafed on me, an' he was a joe-dandy at hammerin' a raw team into
shape. He's got a head on him. He can do everything but talk. He
knows what you say to him. Look at 'm now. He knows we're talkin'
about him."
The dog was lying at Skiff Miller's feet, head close down on paws, ears
erect and listening, and eyes that were quick and eager to follow the
sound of speech as it fell from the lips of first one and then the other.
"An' there's a lot of work in 'm yet. He's good for years to come. An' I
do like him."
Once or twice after that Skiff Miller opened his mouth and closed it
again without speaking. Finally he said:
"I'll tell you what I'll do. Your remarks, ma'am, has some weight in
them. The dog's worked hard, and maybe he's earned a soft berth an'
has got a right to choose. Anyway, we'll leave it up to him. Whatever
he says, goes. You people stay right here settin' down. I'll say good-by
and walk off casual-like. If he wants to stay, he can stay. If he wants to
come with me, let 'm come. I won't call 'm to come an' don't you call 'm
to come back."
He looked with sudden suspicion at Madge, and added, "Only you must
play fair. No persuadin' after my back is turned."
"We'll play fair," Madge began, but Skiff Miller broke in on her
assurances.

"I know the ways of women," he announced. "Their hearts is soft.
When their hearts is touched they're likely to stack the cards, look at the
bottom of the deck, an' lie--beggin' your pardon, ma'am. I'm only
discoursin' about women in general."
"I don't know how to thank you," Madge quavered.
"I don't see as you've got any call to thank me," he replied. "Brown ain't
decided yet. Now you won't mind if I go away slow! It's no more'n fair,
seein' I'll be out of sight inside a hundred yards."
Madge agreed, and added, "And I promise you faithfully that we won't
do anything to influence him."
"Well, then, I might as well he gettin' along," Skiff Miller said in the
ordinary tones of one departing.
At this change in his voice, Wolf lifted his head quickly, and still more
quickly got to his feet when the man and woman shook hands. He
sprang up on his hind legs, resting his fore paws on her hip and at the
same time licking Skiff Miller's hand. When the latter shook hands with
Walt, Wolf repeated his act, resting his weight on Walt and licking both
men's hands.
"It ain't no picnic, I can tell you that," were the Klondiker's last words,
as he turned and went slowly up the trail.
For the distance of twenty feet Wolf watched him go, himself all
eagerness and expectancy, as though waiting for the man to turn and
retrace his steps. Then, with a quick low whine, Wolf sprang after him,
overtook him, caught his hand between his teeth with reluctant
tenderness, and strove gently to make him pause.
Failing in this, Wolf raced back to where Walt Irvine sat, catching his
coat sleeve in his teeth and trying vainly to drag him after the retreating
man.
Wolf's perturbation began to wax. He desired ubiquity. He wanted to be
in two places at the same time, with the old master and the new, and
steadily the distance between them was increasing. He sprang about
excitedly, making short nervous leaps and twists, now toward one, now
toward the other, in painful indecision, not knowing his own mind,
desiring both and unable to choose, uttering quick sharp whines and
beginning to pant.
He sat down abruptly on his haunches, thrusting his nose upward, the
mouth opening and closing with jerking movements, each time opening

wider. These jerking movements were in unison with the recurrent
spasms that attacked the throat, each spasm severer and more intense
than the preceding one. And in accord with jerks and spasms the larynx
began to vibrate, at first silently, accompanied by the rush of air
expelled from the lungs, then sounding a low, deep note, the lowest in
the register of the human ear. All this was the nervous and muscular
preliminary to howling.
But just as the howl was on the verge of bursting from the full throat,
the wide-opened mouth was closed, the paroxysms ceased, and he
looked long and steadily at the retreating man. Suddenly Wolf turned
his head, and over his shoulder just