118 White Fang.pdf

Jack London

White Fang

Retold by Anna Paluchowska

w o r y g i n a l e

Chapter I

The Love-Making

of the Wild

Mediasat Poland Bis sp. z o.o.

ul. Mikołajska 26

31-027 Kraków

www.czytamy.pl

czytamy@czytamy.pl

Projekt okładki i ilustracje: Małgorzata Flis

Skład: Marek Szwarnóg

ISBN 83 - 89652 - 18 - 8

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It was cold and the pack was hungry. In

truth, they looked more like skeletons than

wolves. At the front of the pack ran a large

gray wolf. He was one of the leaders of the

pack. He snarled at all the other wolves if

they tried to go faster than him, but he did

not snarl at the red-haired she-wolf who

ran next to him. He didn’t even show her

his teeth if she happened to run in front

of him. In fact, he seemed to like it. He

seemed to like her. In her opinion he liked

her too much. He tried to run too close

to her. He even tried to touch her neck

or shoulder with his nose. But then she

snarled at him irritably and showed him

her teeth. He never snarled back.

The large gray wolf was not her only

admirer though. On her right ran an old

one-eyed wolf. He was one of the older

leaders of the pack. His body and fur

showed many signs of past battles. From

time to time he also tried to touch her

neck with his nose. Then she snarled at

him warningly. He never snarled back at

her either.

But if the two leaders were all kindness

towards the red she-wolf they were all

hatred towards each other. But they weren’t

fighting openly yet. They were both waiting

for the best moment. They knew it would be

a battle of life and death. The best moment

came first for old One Eye. He noticed how

the young wolf turned his head to lick his

shoulder, showing his neck to his rival. The

old wolf attacked him suddenly and without

warning, closing his fangs on the younger

leader’s neck. His teeth opened the great

vein of his neck and blood began to quickly

flow out. The younger wolf snarled painfully

and tried to fight back, but his legs would

no longer hold him and he fell to the snow.

The battle was over.

Through all of this the she-wolf sat

and watched, and smiled. She was glad

with the battle because this was love-

making of the Wild. This time experience

triumphed over youth. When One

Eye came up to the she-wolf again she

didn’t snarl at him any more. Instead she

touched noses with him. The dead rival

was already forgotten. Soon they were

best friends running happily side by side

through the snowy woods.

After some days, the she-wolf began

to feel uncomfortable. She seemed to be

looking for something. She looked under

all fallen trees and into empty caves. Old

One Eye was not interested at all but he

followed her anyway. And so they travelled

across the country until they got to the

banks of Mackenzie River. There they

hung about the Indian camp for some time.

One Eye didn’t like it but the she-wolf

seemed more than comfortable with the

human voices nearby.

She was very heavy now and could only run

only very slowly. She was also less patient

than ever. She was not quick enough to

catch meat herself and she was angry with

One Eye if he failed to hunt successfully for

both of them. Fortunately for the old wolf,

she finally found what she had been looking

for. It was a cave. Old One Eye watched

her patiently as she inspected it carefully

for hours. In the end, she lay down, put her

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