Chapter 21 Whedon's Home The boat carrying Whedon Scott and White Fang arrived in San Francisco.
They stepped off the boat onto a crowded, busy dock.
White Fang had never known a world like this before.
The city was too much for the wolf.
There were concrete roads, tall buildings, cars, and so many people everywhere.
There were too many smells, too many people, too much to take in.
He was afraid of all the noise.
There were so many humans and so many human legs to work his way past.
He had lost his sense of direction and did not know which way to turn.
He was terrified that he might lose sight of his master.
He felt completely dependent on the young man.
He followed closely at his heels.
Even other dogs and children did not distract him.
Thankfully, they did not stay long in the city.
White Fang would only remember it as a bad dream.
Whedon took him to the railway station and put him into a baggage car train.
When the steel doors of the car slammed shut and Whedon was not with him, White Fang feared he had lost his master.
He sat near Whedon's bags, keeping careful watch.
Even if he did lose his master, he would make sure that Whedon's things were well protected.
Somehow, White Fang knew that his master would come back looking for him.
It was only an hour later when the steel doors opened again and White Fang emerged from the car.
He was amazed.
The city was gone.
He was back in more familiar territory, although not quite home.
All the sights and sounds of city life were gone.
They were in a country that was very green, with many tall trees.
There were no tall trees in the north.
White Fang had never seen rolling hills and green forests like these.
California was a very different place.
A carriage was waiting for them, and two people approached Whedon.
White Fang watched with horror as these people wrapped their arms around his master.
They squeezed him one at a time.
His master was under attack.
Whedon rushed to reassure White Fang, who had become a snarling, raging demon.
It's all right, Mother, he said while holding White Fang tightly.
He thought you were trying to hurt me.
Don't worry, he'll learn soon enough.
In the meantime, she said, I'll learn to hug my son when the wolf is not around.
She laughed but was clearly shaken.
Whedon made White Fang sit quietly and hugged his mother again.
When the wolf started to growl again, Whedon warned, down, down.
Eventually, White Fang learned to sit quietly while his master hugged his parents.
He understood that there was no danger.
The bags were loaded into the carriage and they set off down the road with White Fang running behind.
The wolf was happy to run.
The long boat ride had been very difficult for him.
He was not used to such small spaces where he could not run around or explore his surroundings.
Now that he was free again, White Fang ran with all his might.
This new land smelled wonderful.
There were so many new sights and sounds.
The wolf wanted to run through the woods to see what he might find, but did not want to lose sight of his master.
After fifteen minutes, the carriage pulled into a driveway, and White Fang followed.
More people ran out from the house to greet them, including two young children.
This worried White Fang, and he kept his distance.
The children in the Indian village had often teased or hurt him.
The children in Fort Yukon threw sticks and stones at him.
Luckily, these two were more interested in the return of their father and didn't pay much attention to the wolf.
More troubling still were the two farm dogs that met White Fang with snarls and barks.
The hound bit at his heels while White Fang ran after the carriage.
The other, a female collie, blocked his way at every turn.
She would not let him get too close to the family.
He was kept at a distance from his master.
White Fang was more panicked than angry.
He could see his master twenty feet away, but could not reach him.
He tried going left.
He tried going right.
It did not matter.
The collie was always right there.
Whedon looked over his shoulder to see White Fang's struggle.
Here, collie, he called.
Stop that.
The collie stopped in her tracks, and White Fang ran up to Whedon.
Well.
He's certainly attached to you, said Judge Scott, Whedon's father.
I'm impressed.
He learns quickly, Whedon said, while patting White Fang's head.
But we should be careful for the first bit.
He trusts me, but hasn't had much experience with other people.
Not with kind people, at least.
Let's go inside.
Supper must be ready, Judge Scott said.
We'll bring in the collie and leave White Fang and the hound to work it out themselves.
The family started to walk toward the house.
White Fang watched Whedon carefully.
Whedon chuckled.
I think White Fang should stay with us.
Otherwise, we might not have a hound dog to deal with later.
His father looked at the wolf and remembered his growls at the train station.
White Fang stood close to Whedon's side.
He was standing guard by his master.
Perhaps you're right, son.
Perhaps you're right.
