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Updated: June 27, 2025
They remembered only the latest, which was his weakness and sickness. At the sight of him as he came out of the cabin, they sprang upon him. "Talk about your rough-houses," Matt murmured gleefully, standing in the doorway and looking on. "Give 'm hell, you wolf! Give 'm hell! an' then some!" White Fang did not need the encouragement. The return of the love-master was enough.
Scott's eyes were shining. "Gosh!" said Matt in an awe-stricken voice. A moment later, when he had recovered himself, he said, "I always insisted that wolf was a dog. Look at 'm!" With the return of the love-master, White Fang's recovery was rapid. Two nights and a day he spent in the cabin. Then he sallied forth. The sled- dogs had forgotten his prowess.
In a way he was prepared to do this. As Mit-sah and Kloo-kooch had belonged to Grey Beaver, sharing his food, his fire, and his blankets, so now, at Sierra Vista, belonged to the love-master all the denizens of the house. But in this matter there was a difference, and many differences. Sierra Vista was a far vaster affair than the tepee of Grey Beaver. There were many persons to be considered.
This expression of abandon and surrender, of absolute trust, he reserved for the master alone. In fact, he never regarded the members of the family in any other light than possessions of the love-master. Also White Fang had early come to differentiate between the family and the servants of the household. The latter were afraid of him, while he merely refrained from attacking them.
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