Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers

Help / FAQ



<- Previous | First | Next ->
PinkMonkey.com Digital Library - PinkMonkey.com - Call Of The Wild by Jack London
CHAPTER ONE

Into the Primitive

Old longings nomadic leap, Chafing at customís chain; Again from
its brumal sleep Wakens the ferine strain.

BUCK DID NOT READ THE newspapers, or he would have
known that trouble was brewing not alone for himself, but for
every tide-water dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair,
from Puget Sound to San Diego. Because men, groping in the
Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal, and because steamship
and transportation companies were booming the find, thousands of
men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted dogs,
and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles
by which to toil and furry coats to protect them from the frost.

Buck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley.
Judge Millerís place, it was called. It stood back from the road, half
hidden among the trees, through which glimpses could be caught
of the wide cool veranda that ran around its four sides. The house
was approached by gravelled driveways which wound about
through wide spreading lawns and under the interlacing boughs of
tall poplars. At the rear things were on even a more spacious scale
than at the front. There were great stables, where a dozen grooms
and boys held forth, rows of vine-clad servantsí cottages, an
endless and orderly array of out-houses, long grape arbours, green
pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then there was the pumping
plant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where Judge
Millerís boys took their morning plunge and kept cool in the hot
afternoon.

And over this great demesne Buck ruled. Here he was born, and
here he had lived the four years of his life. It was true, there were
other dogs. There could not but be other dogs on so vast a place,
but they did not count. They came and went, resided in the
populous kennels, or lived obscurely in the recesses of the house
after the fashion of Toots, the Japanese pug, or Ysabel, the Mexican
hairlessstrange creatures that rarely put nose out of doors or set
foot to ground. On the other hand, there were the fox terriers, a
score of them at least, who yelped fearful promises at Toots and
Ysabel looking out of the windows at them and protected by a
legion of housemaids armed with brooms and mops.

But Buck was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The whole realm
was his.
<- Previous | First | Next ->
PinkMonkey.com Digital Library - PinkMonkey.com - Call Of The Wild by Jack London



All Contents Copyright © All rights reserved.
Further Distribution Is Strictly Prohibited.

About Us | Advertising | Contact Us | Privacy Policy | Home Page


Search:
Keywords:
In Association with Amazon.com