Chapter 7 The Rule of the Wild The cub grew in size and learned very quickly.
He learned when to be bold and when to shy away.
His mother took him on her hunts, and the cub followed her example.
His mother taught him that the rule of the wild was much more than eat or be eaten.
A wolf kills only when it's hungry or in danger.
Even enemies must have respect for one another.
His mother let him roam and hunt on his own.
She knew he had to discover some things for himself, although he never strayed too far from the cave.
After his first great adventure, the cub was very careful not to get lost again.
It was on one of his solo trips that the little wolf cub first encountered humans.
He was running down to the stream to get a drink of water.
Still just an excited puppy.
He burst through the bushes where, sitting silently by the water, were five strange creatures.
He tumbled along the riverbank rocks as he tried to stop.
None of the men jumped up at the sight of him, nor did they show their teeth or snarl.
They simply sat there in silence.
They were nothing like any of the other animals in the wild.
They did not follow any rules that the wolf-cub understood.
The cub did not move either.
His instincts told him to run, but something had caught hold of him.
He was in awe.
Something inside of him said that he should respect these men.
He sank down and cowered as one approached.
When the man leaned in, the cub snarled and bared his fangs.
Look, the man laughed, the white fangs.
He put his hand out to touch the cub's head.
The young wolf moved quickly, biting the man's hand and drawing blood.
The man yelped and jumped back.
He bit me.
His friends laughed at him.
What did you expect? one of them asked.
The man, embarrassed and angry, struck the cub with a stick.
The wolf cried in pain.
He had never been hit before.
He was confused about what was happening to him.
The man would have continued beating the cub were it not for the red dog.
At that very moment, she jumped from the bushes, teeth bared, ready to defend her son.
One of the other men spoke up at the sight of her.
He looked toward the cub's mother and called, Kiche.
The red dog stopped.
She turned to the man who spoke.
Her ears perked up at the sound of his voice.
Kiche, he said, come here.
And then the cub saw his mother, the fearless one, crouch down until her belly touched the ground.
She whimpered and wagged her tail.
The man who had spoken came over.
He put his hand on her head and she crouched lower.
She neither snapped nor threatened to snap.
The other men came up and felt her.
She did nothing to stop them.
She ran away a year ago, said the man.
His name was Gray Beaver.
His brother had owned the red dog, whose name was Kiche, before she left for the wild.
She ran away during a famine, when there was very little food for anyone, animal or man.
Her father was a wolf, you know.
It's not so strange that she would take to the wild.
Gray Beaver tied a rope around Kiche's neck.
She did not struggle or growl.
In fact, she whimpered in delight and wagged her tail.
Gray Beaver looked at the wolf cub, still crouched on the ground.
Since my brother died in the winter, she and her pup are now mine, he said.
None of the other men objected.
He reached down to grab the pup's scruff, but was met with a growl and bared fangs.
Gray Beaver laughed.
Hmm.
Brave boy, you like showing your teeth, huh?
Well, then your name will be White Fang.
He led Kiche away from the stream and tied her to a tree.
White Fang, as the cub was now called, followed and lay down beside his mother.
If she gave in to these men, then he must too.
Gray Beaver put a hand on White Fang's back and rolled him over.
Kiche looked on while the man rubbed the cub's belly.
The cub felt strange and silly, lying on his back with his legs sprawled in the air.
It was a position of such helplessness that White Fang's whole nature fought against it.
He could do nothing to defend himself.
He couldn't escape.
But soon the fear settled down and he noticed something new.
He enjoyed having his belly rubbed.
This was an entirely new experience for him, and he liked it.
This pleasant moment was disturbed by the sound of strange noises approaching.
The rest of the Indian tribe was arriving to set up camp.
Many people appeared from the woods carrying supplies and food.
Dogs and children ran through the camp as tents were put up and fire pits were dug.
Suddenly, White Fang was surrounded by activity and noise.
There were too many things happening all at once.
The cub tried to take everything in, but it was impossible.
He was about to start the next phase of his young life.
One ruled more by man than by the wild.
