had destroyed the solidarity of the team. It no longer was as one dog
leaping in the traces. The encouragement Buck gave the rebels led them
into all kinds of petty misdemeanors. No more was Spitz a leader
greatly to be feared. The old awe departed, and they grew equal to
challenging his authority. Pike robbed him of half a fish one night,
and gulped it down under the protection of Buck. Another night Dub and
Joe fought Spitz and made him forego the punishment they deserved. And
even Billee, the good-natured, was less good-natured, and whined not
half so placatingly as in former days. Buck never came near Spitz
without snarling and bristling menacingly. In fact, his conduct
approached that of a bully, and he was given to swaggering up and down
before Spitz s very nose.
The breaking down of discipline likewise affected the dogs in their
relations with one another. They quarrelled and bickered more than ever
among themselves, till at times the camp was a howling bedlam. Dave and
Sol-leks alone were unaltered, though they were made irritable by the
unending squabbling. Francois swore strange barbarous oaths, and
stamped the snow in futile rage, and tore his hair. His lash was always
singing among the dogs, but it was of small avail. Directly his back
was turned they were at it again. He backed up Spitz with his whip,
while Buck backed up the remainder of the team. Francois knew he was
behind all the trouble, and Buck knew he knew; but Buck was too clever
ever again to be caught red-handed. He worked faithfully in the
harness, for the toil had become a delight to him; yet it was a greater
delight slyly to precipitate a fight amongst his mates and tangle the
traces.
At the mouth of the Tahkeena, one night after supper, Dub turned up a
snowshoe rabbit, blundered it, and missed. In a second the whole team
was in full cry. A hundred yards away was a camp of the Northwest
Police, with fifty dogs, huskies all, who joined the chase. The rabbit
sped down the river, turned off into a small creek, up the frozen bed
of which it held steadily. It ran lightly on the surface of the snow,
while the dogs ploughed through by main strength. Buck led the pack,
sixty strong, around bend after bend, but he could not gain. He lay
down low to the race, whining eagerly, his splendid body flashing
forward, leap by leap, in the wan white moonlight. And leap by leap,
like some pale frost wraith, the snowshoe rabbit flashed on ahead.
27