第6章 Who Has Won to Mastership 谁成霸主

“Eh? What I say? I speak true when I say dat Buck two devils.”

This was Francois's speech next morning when he discovered Spitz missing and Buck covered with wounds. He drew him to the fire and by its light pointed them out.

“Dat Spitz fight like hell,”said Perrault, as he surveyed the gaping rips and cuts.

“An’dat Buck fight like two hells,”was Francois's answer.“And now we make good time. No more Spitz, no more trouble, sure.”

While Perrault packed the camp outfit and loaded the sled, the dog-driver proceeded to harness the dogs. Buck trotted up to the place Spitz would have occupied as leader; but Francois, not noticing him, brought Sol-leks to the coveted position. In his judgment, Sol-leks was the best lead-dog left. Buck sprang upon Sol-leks in a fury, driving him back and standing in his place.

“Eh? Eh?”Francois cried, slapping his thighs gleefully.“Look at dat Buck. Him kill dat Spitz, him think to take de job.”

“Go 'way, Hook!”he cried, but Buck refused to budge.

He took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled threateningly, dragged him to one side and replaced Sol-leks. The old dog did not like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck. Francois was obdurate, but when he turned his back, Buck again displaced Sol-leks, who was not at all unwilling to go.

Francois was angry.“Now, by Gar, I fix you!”he cried, coming back with a heavy club in his hand.

Buck remembered the man in the red sweater, and retreated slowly; nor did he attempt to charge in when Sol-leks was once more brought forward. But he circled just beyond the range of the club, snarling with bitterness and rage; and while he circled he watched the club so as to dodge it if thrown by Francois, for he was become wise in the way of clubs.

The driver went about his work, and he called to Buck when he was ready to put him in his old place in front of Dave. Buck retreated two or three steps. Francois followed him up, whereupon he again retreated. After some time of this, Francois threw down the club, thinking that Buck feared a thrashing. But Buck was in open revolt. He wanted, not to escape a clubbing, but to have the leadership. It was his by right. He had earned it, and he would not be content with less.

Perrault took a hand. Between them they ran him about for the better part of an hour. They threw clubs at him. He dodged. They cursed him, and his fathers and mothers before him, and all his seed to come after him down to the remotest generation, and every hair on his body and drop of blood in his veins; and he answered curse with snarl and kept out of their reach. He did not try to run away, but retreated around and around the camp, advertising plainly that when his desire was met, he would come in and be good.

Francois sat down and scratched his head. Perrault looked at his watch and swore. Time was flying, and they should have been on the trail an hour gone. Francois scratched his head again. He shook it and grinned sheepishly at the courier, who shrugged his shoulders in sign that they were beaten. Then Francois went up to where Sol-leks stood and called to Buck. Buck laughed, as dogs laugh, yet kept his distance. Francois unfastened Sol-leks's traces and put him back in his old place. The team stood harnessed to the sled in an unbroken line, ready for the trail. There was no place for Buck save at the front. Once more Francois called, and once more Buck laughed and kept away.

“Throw down de club,”Perrault commanded.

Francois complied, whereupon Buck trotted in, laughing triumphantly, and swung around into position at the head of the team. His traces were fastened, the sled broken out, and with both men running they dashed out on to the river trail.

Highly as the dog-driver had forevalued Buck, with his two devils, he found, while the day was yet young, that he had undervalued. At a bound Buck took up the duties of leadership; and where judgment was required, and quick thinking and quick acting, he showed himself the superior even of Spitz, of whom Francois had never seen an equal.

But it was in giving the law and making his mates live up to it, that Buck excelled. Dave and Sol-leks did not mind the change in leadership. It was none of their business. Their business was to toil, and toil mightily, in the traces. So long as that was not interfered with, they did not care what happened. Billee, the good-natured, could lead for all they cared, so long as he kept order. The rest of the team, however, had grown unruly during the last days of Spitz, and their surprise was great now that Buck proceeded to lick them into shape.

Pike, who pulled at Buck's heels, and who never put an ounce more of his weight against the breastband than he was compelled to do, was swiftly and repeatedly shaken for loafing; and ere the first day was done he was pulling more than ever before in his life. The first night in camp, Joe, the sour one, was punished soundly-a thing that Spitz had never succeeded in doing. Buck simply smothered him by virtue of superior weight, and cut him up till he ceased snapping and began to whine for mercy.

The general tone of the team picked up immediately. It recovered its old-time solidarity, and once more the dogs leaped as one dog in the traces. At the Rink Rapids two native huskies, Teek and Koona, were added; and the celerity with which Buck broke them in took away Francois's breath.

“Never such a dog as dat Buck!”he cried.“No, never! Him worth one thousand dollair, by Gar! Eh? What you say, Perrault?”

And Perrault nodded. He was ahead of the record then, and gaining day by day. The trail was in excellent condition, well packed and hard, and there was no new-fallen snow with which to contend. It was not too cold. The temperature dropped to fifty below zero and remained there the whole trip. The men rode and ran by turn, and the dogs were kept on the jump, with but infrequent stop-pages.

The Thirty Mile River was comparatively coated with ice, and they covered in one day going out what had taken them ten days coming in. In one run they made a sixty-mile dash from the foot of Lake LeBarge to the White Horse Rapids. Across Marsh, Tagish, and Bennett (seventy miles of lakes), they flew so fast that the man whose turn it was to run towed behind the sled at the end of a rope. And on the last night of the second week they topped White Pass and dropped down the sea slope with the lights of Skaguay and of the shipping at their feet.

It was a record run. Each day for fourteen days they had averaged forty miles. For three days Perrault and Francois threw chests up and down the main street of Skaguay and were deluged with invitations to drink, while the team was the constant center of a worshipful crowd of dogbusters and mushers. Then three or four western bad men aspired to clean out the town, were riddled like pepperboxes for their pains, and public interest turned to other idols. Next came official orders. Francois called Buck to him, threw his arms around him, wept over him. And that was the last of Francois and Perrault. Like other men, they passed out of Buck's life for good.

A Scotch half-breed took charge of him and his mates, and in company with a dozen other dog-teams he started back over the weary trail to Dawson. It was no light running now, nor record time, but heavy toil each day, with a heavy load behind; for this was the mail train, carrying word from the world to the men who sought gold under the shadow of the Pole.

Buck did not like it, but he bore up well to the work, taking pride in it after the manner of Dave and Sol-leks, and seeing that his mates, whether they prided in it or not, did their fair share. It was a monotonous life, operating with machine-like regularity. One day was very like another. At a certain time each morning the cooks turned out, fires were built, and breakfast was eaten. Then, while some broke camp, others harnessed the dogs, and they were under way an hour or so before the darkness fell which gave warning of dawn. At night, camp was made. Some pitched the tents, others cut firewood and pine boughs for the beds, and still others carried water or ice for the cooks. Also, the dogs were fed. To them, this was the one feature of the day, though it was good to loaf around, after the fish was eaten, for an hour or so with the other dogs, of which there were fivescore and odd. There were fierce fighters among them, but three battles with the fiercest brought Buck to mastery, so that when he bristled and showed his teeth, they got out of his way.

Best of all, perhaps, he loved to lie near the fire, hind legs crouched under him, fore legs stretched out in front, head raised, and eyes blinking drearily at the flames. Sometimes he thought of Judge Miller's big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley, and of the cement swimming tank, and Ysabel, the Mexican hairless, and Toots, the Japanese pug;but oftener he remembered the man in the red sweater, the death of Curly, the great fight with Spitz and the good things he had eaten or would like to eat. He was not homesick. The Sunland was very dim and distant, and such memories had no power over him. Far more potent were the memories of his heredity that gave things he had never seen before a seeming familiarity; the instincts (which were but the memories of his ancestors become habits) which had lapsed in later days, and still later, in him, quickened and became alive again.

Sometimes as he crouched there, blinking dreamily at the flames, it seemed that the flames were of another fire, and that as he crouched by this other fire he saw another and different man from the half-breed cook before him. This other man was shorter of leg and longer of arm, with muscles that were stringy and knotty rather than rounded and swelling. The hair of this man was long and matted, and his head slanted back under it from the eyes. He uttered strange sounds, and seemed very much afraid of the darkness, into which he peered continually, clutching in his hand, which hung midway between knee and foot, a stick with a heavy stone made fast to the end. He was all but naked, a ragged and fire-scorched skin hanging part way down his back, but on his body there was much hair. In some places, across the chest and shoulders and down the outside of the arms and thighs, it was matted into almost a thick fur. He did not stand erect, but with trunk inclined forward from the hips, on legs that bent at the knees. About his body there was a peculiar springiness, or resiliency, almost catlike, and a quick alertness as of one who lived in perpetual fear of things seen and unseen.

At other times this hairy man squatted by the fire with head between his legs and slept. On such occasions his elbows were on his knees, his hands clasped above his head as though to shed rain by the hairy arms. And beyond that fire, in the circling darkness, Buck could see many gleaming coals, two by two, always two by two, which he knew to be the eyes of great beasts of prey. And he could hear the crashing of their bodies through the undergrowth, and the noises they made in the night. And dreaming there by the Yukon bank, with lazy eyes blinking at the fire, these sounds and sights of another world would make the hair to rise along his back and stand on end across his shoulders and up his neck, till he whimpered low and suppressedly, or growled softly, and the half-breed cook shouted at him,“Hey, you Buck, wake up!”Whereupon the other world would vanish and the real world come into his eyes, and he would get up and yawn and stretch as though he had been asleep.

It was a hard trip, with the mail behind them, and the heavy work wore them down. They were short of weight and in poor condition when they made Dawson, and should have had a ten days’or a week's rest at least. But in two days’time they dropped down the Yukon bank from the Barracks, loaded with letters for the outside. The dogs were tired, the drivers grumbling, and to make matters worse, it snowed every day. This meant a soft trail, greater friction on the runners, and heavier pulling for the dogs; yet the drivers were fair through it all, and did their best for the animals.

Each night the dogs were attended to first. They ate before the drivers ate, and no man sought his sleeping-robe till he had seen to the feet of the dogs he drove. Still, their strength went down. Since the beginning of the winter they had traveled eighteen hundred miles, dragging sleds the whole weary distance; and eighteen hundred miles will tell upon life of the toughest. Buck stood it, keeping his mates up to their work and maintaining discipline, though he too was very tired. Billee cried and whimpered regularly in his sleep each night. Joe was sourer than ever, and Sol-leks was unapproachable, blind side or other side.

But it was Dave who suffered most of all. Something had gone wrong with him. He became more morose and irritable, and when camp was pitched at once made his nest, where his driver fed him. Once out of the harness and down, he did not get on his feet again till harness-up time in the morning. Sometimes, in the traces, when jerked by a sudden stoppage of the sled, or by straining to start it, he would cry out with pain. The driver examined him, but could find nothing. All the drivers became interested in his case. They talked it over at meal-time, and over their last pipes before going to bed, and one night they held a consultation. He was brought from his nest to the fire and was pressed and prodded till he cried out many times. Something was wrong inside, but they could locate no broken bones, could not make it out.

By the time Cassiar Bar was reached, he was so weak that he was falling repeatedly in the traces. The Scotch half-breed called a halt and took him out of the team, making the next dog, Sol-leks, fast to the sled. His intention was to rest Dave, letting him run free behind the sled. Sick as he was, Dave resented being taken out, grunting and growling while the traces were unfastened, and whimpering broken-heartedly when he saw Sol-leks in the position he had held and served so long. For the pride of trace and trail was his, and, sick unto death, he could not bear that another dog should do his work.

When the sled started, he floundered in the soft snow alongside the beaten trail, attacking Sol-leks with his teeth, rushing against him and trying to thrust him off into the soft snow on the other side, striving to leap inside his traces and get between him and the sled, and all the while whining and yelping and crying with grief and pain. The half-breed tried to drive him away with the whip; but he paid no heed to the stinging lash, and the man had not the heart to strike harder. Dave refused to run quietly on the trail behind the sled, where the going was easy, but continued to flounder alongside in the soft snow, where the going was most difficult, till exhausted. Then he fell, and lay where he fell, howling lugubriously as the long train of sleds churned by.

With the last remnant of his strength he managed to stagger along behind till the train made another stop, when he floundered past the sleds to his own, where he stood alongside Sol-leks. His driver lingered a moment to get a light for his pipe from the man behind. Then he returned and started his dogs. They swung out on the trail with remarkable lack of exertion, turned their heads uneasily, and stopped in surprise. The driver was surprised, too; the sled had not moved. He called his comrades to witness the sight. Dave had bitten through both of Sol-lek's traces, and was standing directly in front of the sled in his proper place.

He pleaded with his eyes to remain there. The driver was perplexed. His comrades talked of how a dog could break its heart through being denied the work that killed it, and recalled instances they had known, where dogs, too old for the toil, or injured, had died because they were cut out of the traces. Also, they held it a mercy, since Dave was to die anyway, that he should die in the traces, heart-easy and content. So he was harnessed in again, and proudly he pulled as of old, though more than once he cried out involuntarily from the bite of his inward hurt. Several times fell down and was dragged in the traces, and once the sled ran upon him so that he limped thereafter on one of his hind legs.

But he held out till camp was reached, when his driver made a place for him by the fire. Morning found him too weak to travel. At harness-up time he tried to crawl to his driver. By convulsive efforts he got on his feet, staggered, and fell. Then he wormed his way forward slowly toward where the harnesses were being put on his mates. He would advance his fore legs and drag up his body with a sort of hitching movement, when he would advance his fore legs and hitch ahead again for a few more inches. His strength left him, and the last his mates saw of him he lay gasping in the snow and yearning toward them. But they could hear him mournfully howling till they passed out of sight behind a belt of river timber.

Here the train was halted. The Scotch half-breed slowly retraced his steps to the camp they had left. The men ceased talking. A revolver-shot rang out. The man came back hurriedly. The whips snapped, the bells tinkled merrily, the sleds churned along the trail;but Buck knew, and every dog knew, what had taken place behind the belt of river trees.

“呃？我说啥？我说过巴克是双料魔鬼，说得没错。”

这是弗朗索瓦第二天早上说的话，当时它发现斯皮茨不见了踪影，巴克伤痕累累。他将巴克拉到火边，借着火光指出那些伤口。

“那个斯皮茨打得真不要命了。”佩罗一边检查一道道伤口和裂痕，一边说。

“还有那个巴克打得更该死，”弗朗索瓦答道，“现在我们可以快速前进了。没有了斯皮茨，肯定不会再有麻烦了。”

佩罗收拾宿营用具，装上雪橇，赶狗人动手给狗套挽具。巴克小跑到了斯皮茨本来应该占据的领头狗的位置，但是，弗朗索瓦没有理睬它，反而把索尔雷克斯带到了它垂涎欲滴的那个位置。在他看来，索尔雷克斯是剩下的最好的领头狗。巴克狂怒地扑向索尔雷克斯，把它逼退，站在了那个位置。

“呃？呃？”弗朗索瓦开心地拍着大腿喊道，“瞧那个巴克。它以为是自己咬死了斯皮茨，要接手那个工作。”

“走开，笨蛋！”他喊道，但巴克拒绝移动。

他抓住巴克的后脖颈，尽管巴克吼叫威胁，但他还是把它拖到了一边，让索尔雷克斯重新站在了那个位置。这条老狗不喜欢这样，而且明确表示，它害怕巴克。弗朗索瓦毫不让步，但他转过身，巴克便又取代了索尔雷克斯，索尔雷克斯也情愿离开。

弗朗索瓦非常生气。“好了，上帝啊，我要收拾你！”他手里拿着一根粗棍走回来喊道。

巴克想起了那个穿红毛衣的人，然后慢慢后退。当弗朗索瓦又一次把索尔雷克斯带上前时，巴克并没有想冲过去，而是在棍子刚好够不到的地方转圈，痛苦而愤怒地咆哮着，它一边转圈，一边看着棍子，以便弗朗索瓦砸来棍子时躲开，因为它已经明白棍子是怎么回事了。

弗朗索瓦着手工作，冲巴克叫喊，准备把它放在戴夫前面的老位置上。巴克后退了两三步。弗朗索瓦追上它，它又退一下。这样过了一阵，弗朗索瓦将棍子砸了下去，以为巴克会害怕挨打。但是，巴克公然造反。它不是想躲避一顿棒打，而是想拥有领导权。它有权得到那个位置。这是它赢来的，少一点它都不会满足。

佩罗伸出了援手。他们围着巴克追来追去，跑了大半个小时。他们用棍子打它，它避开。他们骂它，骂它之前的祖宗，骂它之后所有的乃至最遥远的子孙，还骂它身上的每一根毛和血管里的每一滴血，而它则以咆哮来回骂，不让他们抓住。它不想逃跑，只是围着营地退来退去，明白告知，只要愿望得到满足，它就会让套上挽具，表现乖乖的。

弗朗索瓦坐下来，挠起了头。佩罗一边看着手表，一边破口大骂。时间过得飞快，他们本该上路一个小时了。弗朗索瓦又挠了挠头，摇了摇头，对佩罗困窘地咧嘴笑了笑。佩罗耸耸肩，表示他们被打败了。于是，弗朗索瓦走到索尔雷克斯站立的地方，对巴克叫喊。巴克发出了狗那样的笑声，但保持着距离。弗朗索瓦解开了索尔雷克斯的缰绳，把它推回了原处。狗队套上雪橇，站成完整的一行，准备上路。前面的位置非巴克莫属。弗朗索瓦又一次叫喊，巴克又一次发出笑声，保持距离。

“扔下棍子。”佩罗命令道。

弗朗索瓦照办，巴克扬扬得意地笑着小跑过来，飞快地转过身，站在了队伍前面的位置。它的缰绳系好后，他们便上路了。它们冲上沿河的雪道，那两个人跑了起来。

尽管赶狗人先前对巴克估价很高，说它是双料魔鬼，但天色还早，他就发现他低估了巴克。巴克一下子承担起了领头狗的职责。凡是需要做出判断，需要思维敏捷和行动迅速的地方，它都表现得甚至比斯皮茨还出色，弗朗索瓦还从来没有见过跟斯皮茨旗鼓相当的狗。

但是，巴克的出色之处在于，它能向同伴发号施令，并使之照办。戴夫和索尔雷克斯对更换领导并不介意。这不关它们的事儿。它们关心的是套着缰绳拉橇，竭尽全力地拉橇。只要拉橇不受到干扰，它们就不在乎发生了什么事儿。就是脾气温和的比勒当领头狗，它们也不在乎，只要它能维持秩序就行了。然而，狗队的其他成员在斯皮茨死前的那些日子就不再安分守己了，现在巴克当了领头狗，让它们规规矩矩，这让它们大吃一惊。

跟在巴克后面拉橇的派克不到迫不得已绝不在胸带上多加一点力，干活懒散，它立马就受到了巴克的惩罚。结果，第一天还没有结束，它拉橇用的劲儿比平生任何时候都大。第一天夜里扎营，巴克又狠狠教训了一顿脾气乖僻的乔——这是斯皮茨从来没有做到过的事儿。巴克仅仅依靠自己的体重优势，就让乔喘不过气来，挫败了它的锐气，不再乱咬，开始呜呜求饶。

狗队的整体状态马上就恢复了。往日的团结一致也恢复了。狗们又步调一致飞跃向前。在林克湍滩，两条当地的爱斯基摩狗蒂克和库纳加入了狗队。巴克制服它们的速度之快，让弗朗索瓦大为惊讶。

“从来没有过巴克这样的狗！”他叫道，“不，从来没有！它真的值一千块！嗯？你说呢，佩罗？”

佩罗点了点头。他当时就打破了纪录，而且与日俱增。路况良好，被踩得结结实实，没有新落的雪需处理。天不是太冷。气温下降到了零下五十度，整个行程中都保持不变。那两个人轮流驾橇和跑路，狗队则一直在奔跑，路上很少停留。

“三十英里”河结的冰比较厚，所以它们一天就跑完了来时十天跑的路。它们一口气跑了六十英里，从勒·巴格湖畔一直跑到白马滩，雪橇飞驰，经过了马什、塔杰斯和贝内特（七十英里湖），人落在雪橇后面，被绳子拽着向前跑。第二周的最后一天夜里，它们到达白渡口，一路下坡来到海边，坡底已亮起斯卡格的灯光和海运船的灯光。

这是一次打破纪录的赛跑。他们跑了十四天，平均每天四十英里。佩罗和弗朗索瓦一连三天都沿着斯卡格镇的大街挺胸行走，不断有人请他们喝酒，狗队持续成为一群驯狗人和赶橇人崇拜的中心。后来，三四个西部坏蛋想在镇上称王称霸，结果浑身被打得像虻眼皮革一样，大家的兴趣才转到了其他偶像的身上。接下来传来了正式通知。弗朗索瓦将巴克叫到身边，两臂抱住它哭泣。这是巴克最后一次见到弗朗索瓦和佩罗。像其他人一样，他们从巴克的生活中永远消失了。

一个苏格兰混血儿接管了巴克和它的队友，它们和另外十几支狗队结伴同行，又踏上了前往道森的疲惫旅途。现在跑路不轻松了，也创不了记录了，而是每天后面拖着沉重的雪橇艰难跋涉，因为这次拉的是邮车，要把世界各地的消息送给那些在北极阴影下淘金的人。

巴克并不喜欢这样，但它坚持好好工作，学着戴夫和索尔雷克斯的样子为此而自豪，也看到它的队友们不管自豪不自豪，都各尽其职。这是一种单调的生活，天天像机器一样规律运转。一天和另一天完全一样。每天早晨的某个时间，厨师出来生火做饭，然后便是吃早饭。接下来，有人拔营，有人给狗套雪橇，他们上路一个小时左右，黑暗的天空才露出晨光。夜里安营扎寨。有人扎营，有人砍柴火和砍铺床用的松枝，还有人帮厨师打水或取冰。同时，还要喂狗。对它们来说，这是一天里的一大特色，尽管吃过鱼后跟其他狗四处游荡一个小时左右也不错，这些狗有一百多条。其中也有凶猛的斗士，但即使最凶猛的狗，三个回合下来，就会俯首帖耳。因此，只要它毛发倒竖、龇牙咧嘴，它们就会纷纷避开。

它最喜欢的也许就是卧在火边，后腿蜷缩在身下，前腿伸向前，头抬起来，对着那些火焰睡意矇胧地眨着眼睛。有时，它想起阳光亲吻的圣克拉拉山谷里米勒法官的大房子，想起那个水泥游泳池，想起墨西哥秃头狗伊莎贝尔和日本哈巴狗托茨，但是，它更常常想起那个穿红毛衣的人、柯利之死、跟斯皮茨的那场大战，以及他已经吃过或喜欢吃的那些好东西。他不想家。那片阳光充足的地方模糊而遥远，而且这些记忆对它没有什么威力。更有力的是它那些遗传下来的记忆，这些记忆使那些它以前从来没有见过的东西变得似曾相识。还有那些本能（它们不过是它对祖先相应习惯的回忆），这些本能后来已消失，但近来已在它身上苏醒复活了。

有时，当它蜷缩在那里，睡眼蒙眬地对着那些火焰眨动时，那些火焰好像来自另一堆火，而且当它蜷缩在另一堆火边时，它看到眼前那个混血儿厨师成了另外一个不同的人。另外这个人腿较短，胳膊较长，肌肉多筋多节，而不是丰满凸起。这个人头发又长又乱，遮盖着眼睛，头向后倾斜。他发出奇怪的声音，好像非常害怕黑暗，不断向黑暗中窥视，手垂到了膝盖和脚中间，紧握着一根棍子，棍子一端紧绑着一块沉甸甸的石头。他几乎赤身裸体，后背腰间围着一块被火烧焦的破兽皮，但身上有许多毛。胸部、肩膀、胳膊和大腿外侧的一些地方几乎盖满了浓密的软毛。他站得不直，髋部以上的躯干向前倾斜，两腿在膝盖处弯曲，浑身有一种奇特的弹性或反弹力，几乎像猫一样，而且敏捷机警，那是生活在有形或无形的永恒危险中的人才有的敏捷机警。

还有的时候，这个浑身是毛的人蹲在火边，头埋在两腿间睡觉。每当此时，他的胳膊肘就支在膝盖上，两手抱头，好像要用多毛的胳膊挡雨似的。在那堆火的外面，在四周的黑暗中，巴克能看到许多闪烁的炭火，成双成对，总是成双成对，它知道那是大型猎兽的眼睛。它还能听到它们的身体穿过矮树丛时发出的碰撞声，以及它们在黑暗中发出的嘈杂声。当它在育空河岸边神思恍惚，懒懒地对着火堆眨眼时，这些来自另一个世界的声音和景象会使它从背部到肩膀乃至脖子上的毛发都倒立起来，它压低嗓音呜咽或轻声低吼，那个混血儿厨师会冲它叫喊：“嘿，你这个巴克，醒一醒！”于是，另一个世界就会消失，真实世界就会进入它的视野，它常常会站起来，打个哈欠，伸伸懒腰，好像刚睡过一觉似的。

这是一次艰辛的旅行，它们身后拖着邮件，繁重的工作让它们筋疲力尽。到达道森时，它们体重减轻，身体状况很差，应该休息十天或至少一周。但两天后，它们就离开巴勒克斯，沿着育空河出发了，雪橇上载满了寄往外界的信件。狗乏人怨，更糟的是，每天都下雪。这意味着雪道软化，滑板阻力加大，狗要用更大的劲儿拉橇，不过，驾橇人还算公平，尽力照顾好那群狗。

每天夜里，那些狗首先会受到优待。它们吃完饭后，驾橇人才吃，驾橇人要照看好自己赶的那些狗的蹄子，才去睡觉。尽管如此，但它们还是体力不支。入冬以来，它们已经跑了一千八百英里，一路上拉着雪橇疲于奔命，这一千八百英里路程，就是最强壮的生命也会受到影响。尽管巴克也疲惫不堪，但它还是挺了过来，保证队友们干活，维持纪律。每天夜里，比勒都常常在睡梦中嗥叫呜咽。乔比以前更加乖戾，索尔雷克斯则难以靠近，无论是从瞎眼那边，还是从另一边都难以靠近。

但是，戴夫受的苦最大。它某个地方出了毛病，变得更加郁闷急躁，一扎营就马上扎窝，驾橇人到那里喂它吃东西。一卸下挽具卧下来，直到第二天早晨套上缰绳，它才站起来。有时套着缰绳雪橇突然停止或突然启动绷紧，它常常疼得大声叫喊。驾橇人仔细给它检查，但什么也没能发现。所有的驾橇人都对它的病情产生了兴趣。吃饭时、睡觉前抽最后一斗烟时，他们总是讨论它的病情。一天夜里，他们进行了一次会诊，把它从窝里带到火边，这里按按那里捅捅，直到它叫唤了好多次。是内部出了毛病，但他们摸不到断骨，查不清毛病。

到达卡西亚巴时，它虚弱不堪，多次在拉橇中跌倒。那个苏格兰混血儿停下来，让它出列，把另一条狗索雷尔克斯套在了雪橇上。他的目的就是让戴夫休息，让它空跑在雪橇后面。尽管戴夫病了，但不喜欢被撤下来，给它卸挽具时，它又是哼哼又是低吼，当看到索尔雷克斯站在了它曾坚守了那么久的位置上时，它伤心地呜咽起来。因为它为之自豪的就是缰绳和雪道，即使病死，它也无法忍受另一条狗去干它应该干的活儿。

雪橇启动后，戴夫挣扎着走在踩实雪道边的柔软积雪里，并用牙齿袭击索尔雷克斯，冲撞它，想设法把它撞到雪道另一边的雪地里，力争跳入它的缰绳，插在索尔雷克斯和雪橇中间，而且一直在伤心和痛苦地哀鸣和吠叫。那个混血儿设法用鞭子赶走它，但它根本不顾鞭子火辣辣的刺痛，而那个人又不忍心抽得更狠。戴夫拒绝跟在雪橇后面安分轻松地奔跑，而是继续挣扎着在最难走的柔软积雪里奔跑，直到筋疲力尽。随后，它躺倒在地，当长长的雪橇队剧烈摇晃着驶过时，它可怜巴巴地嗥叫着。

它用最后剩下的力气设法摇摇晃晃地跟在后面，直到队伍又一次停下来，这时它挣扎着走过一辆辆雪橇，来到自己的雪橇边，跟索尔雷克斯站在一起。驾那辆雪橇的人想吸烟，向后面的人借火，拖延了一会儿。他回来后就赶狗上路。拉橇狗摇晃着上路时明显没有用上劲，不安地回过头，惊讶地停下来。驾橇人也吃了一惊；雪橇没有移动。他把同伴们喊过来目睹这一情景。戴夫已经咬断了索尔雷克斯的两根缰绳，正站在雪橇前它原来的位置上。

它用目光恳求留下来。驾橇人不知所措。他的同伴们说，不让狗干致命的工作，它可能会伤心，还回忆起他们了解的一些例子：有些狗老得不能跋涉或受了伤，会因为被卸下挽具而死。他们也认为这样做是一种仁慈，因为戴夫快要死了，它应该心满意足地死在雪橇前。于是，它又被套上了挽具，依旧自豪地拉起了雪橇，尽管它不止一次因体内剧烈疼痛而忍不住叫出声来。好几次它倒下去，被缰绳拖着走。有一次，雪橇压在它的身上，结果它的一条后腿从此就瘸了。

但是，戴夫一直支撑到了宿营地，这时驾橇人在火边给它安排了一个地方。第二天早晨，它发现自己虚弱得难以行走。到了套雪橇时，它试图爬到驾橇人的身边。它抽搐着努力了几次才站起来，又摇晃着摔倒。随后，它向前爬行，慢慢地向同伴们正在套缰绳的地方爬去。它先伸出前腿，以用力拖行的动作前进，然后又伸出前腿再向前拖行几英寸。它没劲了，它们看它最后一眼时，它躺在雪地里喘着粗气，向往着伙伴们。但是，它们能够听得到它的哀号，直至它们走到河边林带后面，从它的视野里消失。

雪橇队在这里停下来。那个苏格兰混血儿又一步一步慢慢地回到了他们刚刚离开的营地。那些人不再说话。左轮手枪的声音传来。那个人又匆匆返回。鞭子啪地甩响，铃铛欢快地叮当作响，雪橇在雪道上摇晃前进，但是，河边林带后面发生的事儿，巴克知道，每条狗也都知道。