10 Brown Wolf

CHAPTER 10 Brown Wolf, by Jack London Madge Irvine pulled on her shoes and rushed out of the house. "Where's Wolf?" she asked her husband, who was eyeing a bursting almond bud. Madge cast a glance across the tall grass and in and out among the orchard trees. "He was here a minute ago," Walt Irvine said. "He was running after a rabbit when I saw him last." "Here, Wolf! Here, boy," Madge called. She left the clearing and followed the trail

that led through the forest to the county road. Walt gave a shrill, loud whistle. Madge put her hands over her ears to drown out the piercing sound. "There's Wolf!" she cried happily. From the thicket-covered hillside forty feet above them, on the edge of a cliff, Wolf's head and shoulders came crashing out of the underbrush. He gazed below at the man and the woman, his mouth open. He looked like he was smiling at them. "You blessed Wolf!" they called up to him.

His ears flattened back and down at the sound of their voices, as if to snuggle under an invisible hand. They walked up and met him along the trail. He did not require much petting. A pat and a rub around the ears from the man. A longer stroke from the woman. Then he was on his way along the trail, gliding in front of them in true wolf fashion. He looked like a huge wolf with his thick

coat and large build. But he had the unmistakable coloring of a dog. He was brown. Not just any brown, but a deep brown, a red-brown, a collection of all sorts of browns. His back and shoulders were a warm brown. On the sides he was a pale brown. And his underbelly was a yellow, dingy brown. There was white fur at his throat and paws, and white spots surrounded his golden-brown eyes. The man and the woman loved the dog very much. It had been very hard for them to win his love. Wolf had drifted into their lives mysteriously, from nowhere to their little mountain cottage. Nearly starving, he had killed a rabbit right under their window. Then he crawled away and slept by a small spring at the foot of their blackberry bushes. When Walt Irvine had gone down to see the dog, Wolf had snarled at him. When Madge Irvine offered him bread and a pan of milk,

he snarled at her, too. For a long time, Wolf refused their kindness. He wouldn't let them pet him. He threatened them with his bare fangs. Nevertheless, he stayed beside their spring, resting and eating the food they brought him. After several days, when he was feeling and looking better, he disappeared. This could have been the end of the relationship among Madge, Walt, and the dog. But then Walt was called away to work, and while traveling on the train he looked out the window and saw Wolf running alongside. He was tireless, dust-covered, and two hundred miles away from Walt's mountain cottage! Without thinking, Walt hopped off the train at the next station and bought a piece of meat at a butcher shop. He enticed the dog with the meat, captured him, and

traveled with him in the baggage car. He brought him back to the mountain cottage. Walt and Madge tied up Wolf so that he could not escape. They spent the next week giving him as much love and attention as they could. Wolf snarled at their soft-spoken words. He growled at their attempts to pet him. He never barked, though. In all the time they knew him, he never once barked. Winning Wolf's affections was a problem. But Walt Irvine liked problems. He made a collar with a silver plate that read, RETURN TO WALT IRVINE, SONOMA COUNTY, CA. Then Walt let Wolf loose. And again— Wolf disappeared! He made it more than a hundred miles up to Oregon before Walt received a telegram telling him that Wolf had been captured. The dog went back by Wells Fargo Express that evening, and the couple tied him up for three more days. On the