and forth, the while calling him ill names that to Buck were love
names. Buck knew no greater joy than that rough embrace and the sound
of murmured oaths, and at each jerk back and forth it seemed that his
heart would be shaken out of his body so great was its ecstasy. And
when, released, he sprang to his feet, his mouth laughing, his eyes
eloquent, his throat vibrant with unuttered sound, and in that fashion
remained without movement, John Thornton would reverently exclaim,
God! you can all but speak!
Buck had a trick of love expression that was akin to hurt. He would
often seize Thornton s hand in his mouth and close so fiercely that the
flesh bore the impress of his teeth for some time afterward. And as
Buck understood the oaths to be love words, so the man understood this
feigned bite for a caress.
For the most part, however, Buck s love was expressed in adoration.
While he went wild with happiness when Thornton touched him or spoke to
him, he did not seek these tokens. Unlike Skeet, who was wont to shove
her nose under Thornton s hand and nudge and nudge till petted, or Nig,
who would stalk up and rest his great head on Thornton s knee, Buck was
content to adore at a distance. He would lie by the hour, eager, alert,
at Thornton s feet, looking up into his face, dwelling upon it,
studying it, following with keenest interest each fleeting expression,
every movement or change of feature. Or, as chance might have it, he
would lie farther away, to the side or rear, watching the outlines of
the man and the occasional movements of his body. And often, such was
the communion in which they lived, the strength of Buck s gaze would
draw John Thornton s head around, and he would return the gaze, without
speech, his heart shining out of his eyes as Buck s heart shone out.
For a long time after his rescue, Buck did not like Thornton to get out
of his sight. From the moment he left the tent to when he entered it
again, Buck would follow at his heels. His transient masters since he
had come into the Northland had bred in him a fear that no master could
be permanent. He was afraid that Thornton would pass out of his life as
Perrault and Francois and the Scotch half-breed had passed out. Even in
the night, in his dreams, he was haunted by this fear. At such times he
would shake off sleep and creep through the chill to the flap of the
tent, where he would stand and listen to the sound of his master s
breathing.
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