Chapter 23 Whedon Gets Injured.
Whenever Whedon went on to errands or into town, White Fang went with him.
His master rode on his horse or in a carriage while White Fang followed behind.
The wolf had left his old ways behind.
He had changed a lot since his days of roaming the streets of Fort Yukon.
Now that he was with Whedon, he knew that he could not attack other dogs.
Fighting was not allowed.
It was hard when other dogs in town bothered White Fang.
He tried to ignore them, but they would not go away.
They bit at his heels and tried to trip him up.
Every once in a while, the wolf turned and snarled at them.
It did not help, though.
Every time Whedon went to town, White Fang was picked on.
This went on for weeks before Whedon noticed.
As White Fang ran after his carriage and away from the dogs, the carriage stopped.
Whedon stepped down and told the wolf that it was okay.
Go on, boy, Whedon said.
You can take after them.
White Fang looked at him, confused.
Go after the dogs?
It's all right.
You can go.
White Fang turned around and went off after the dogs.
He chased them down the street and around the corner.
It was the last time he was bothered by the dogs.
And that's how it was with Whedon Scott.
He was not quick to anger, but would always quietly come to White Fang's defense.
When children outside his office were throwing sticks and rocks at the wolf, Whedon stopped it.
After one firm lecture, they never came back.
White Fang also followed his master on horseback when Whedon went for a ride through the countryside.
They could run for hours together.
The wolf had plenty of time to run through the trees and chase squirrels.
It reminded him of hunting with his mother in the wild.
Those were the days before Beauty Smith, before Gray Beaver.
Although he didn't have the words to describe his feelings, White Fang knew that he was happy.
One day, though, disaster struck.
Whedon's horse lost its footing and tumbled.
Whedon was thrown and his horse rolled over on him.
Whedon's leg was broken and he couldn't get up.
White Fang ran to his master.
He sniffed and whimpered, trying to encourage him to get up.
Home, Whedon commanded.
Go home.
It took a few moments for the wolf to understand.
He ran back toward the house, but returned to his master, amazed to see him in the same spot.
It's all right, Whedon said more gently.
Go back home, now.
White Fang ran all the way at top speed.
The Scott family was sitting on the porch.
White Fang ran up the stairs so quickly that he almost knocked Whedon's wife over.
My word, she exclaimed, what on earth could be wrong with him?
White Fang ran off the porch, then back on.
He was so wild that he scared the children.
I must confess, Whedon's mother said, he makes me nervous around the children.
White Fang started to growl.
A wolf is a wolf. said Judge Scott.
There is no trusting one.
He went back to reading his paper.
White Fang moved from one person to the next.
He nudged them, then ran back toward the trail.
Whedon's wife stood up.
But if White Fang's back, where's Whedon?
White Fang wouldn't leave him unless something was wrong.
They were all on their feet now.
For the second and last time in his life, White Fang barked and was understood.
The family found Whedon and brought him home.
After that, White Fang held a special place in everyone's heart.
Even the collie was nicer to him.
She let him run in the woods with her or around the yard, just as the red dog had run with one eye years before.
No one doubted now that a wolf could change.