Thirty days from the time it left Dawson, the Salt Water Mail, with Buck and his mates at the fore, arrived at Skaguay. They were in a wretched state, worn out and worn down. Buck's one hundred and forty pounds had dwindled to one hundred and fifteen. The rest of his mates, though lighter dogs, had relatively lost more weight than he. Pike, the malingerer, who, in his lifetime of deceit, had often successfully feigned a hurt leg, was now limping in earnest. Sol-leks was limping, and Dub was suffering from a wrenched shoulder blade.

They were all terribly footsore. No spring or rebound was left in them. Their feet fell heavily on the trail, jarring their bodies and doubling the fatigue of a day's travel. There was nothing the matter with them except that they were dead tired. It was not the dead tiredness that comes through brief and excessive effort, from which recovery is a matter of hours; but it was the dead tiredness that comes through the slow and prolonged strength drainage of months of toil. There was no power of recuperation left, no reserve strength to call upon. It had been all used, the last least bit of it. Every muscle, every fiber, every cell, was tired, dead tired. And there was reason for it. In less than five months they had traveled twenty-five hundred miles, during the last eighteen hundred of which they had but five days’rest. When they arrived at Skaguay, they were apparently on their last legs. They could barely keep the traces taut, and on the down grades just managed to keep out of the way of the sled.

“Mush on, poor sore feets,”the driver encouraged them as they tottered down the main street of Skaguay.“Dis is de last. Den we get one long rest. Eh? For sure. One bully long rest.”

The drivers confidently expected a long stopover. Themselves, they had covered twelve hundred miles with two days’rest, and in the nature of reason and common justice they deserved an interval of loafing. But so many were the men who had rushed into the Klondike, and so many were the sweethearts, wives, and kin that had not rushed in, that the congested mail was taking on Alpine proportions; also, there were official orders. Fresh batches of Hudson Bay dogs were to take the places of those worthless for the trail. The worthless ones were to be got rid of, and, since dogs count for little against dollars, they were to be sold.

Three days passed, by which time Buck and his mates found how really tired and weak they were. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, two men from the States came along and bought them, harness and all, for a song. The men addressed each other as“Hal”and“Charles”. Charles was a middle-aged, lightish colored man, with weak and watery eyes and a mustache that twisted fiercely and vigorously up, giving the lie to the limply drooping lip it concealed. Hal was a youngster of nineteen or twenty, with a big Colt's revolver and a hunting knife strapped about him on a belt that fairly bristled with cartridges. This belt was the most salient thing about him. It advertised his callowness-a callowness sheer and unutterable. Both men were manifestly out of place, and why such as they should adventure the North is part of the mystery of things that passes understanding.

Buck heard the chaffering, saw the money pass between the man and the Government agent, and knew that the Scotch half-breed and the mail-train drivers were passing out of his life on the heels of Perrault and Francois and the others who had gone before. When driven with his mates to the new owners’camp, Buck saw a slipshod and slovenly affair,tent half-stretched, dishes unwashed, everything in disorder; also, he saw a woman.“Mercedes”the men called her. She was Charles's wife and Hal's sister-a nice family party.

Buck watched them apprehensively as they proceeded to take down the tent and load the sled. There was a great deal of effort about their manner, but no businesslike method. The tent was rolled into an awkward bundle three times as large as it should have been. The tin dishes were packed away unwashed. Mercedes continually fluttered in the way of her men and kept up an unbroken chattering of remonstrance and advice. When they put a clothes-sack on the front of the sled, she suggested it should go on the back; and when they had it put on the back, and covered it over with a couple of the bundles, she discovered overlooked articles which could abide nowhere else but in that very sack, and they unloaded again.

Three men from a neighboring tent came out and looked on, grinning and winking at one another.

“You've got a right smart load as it is,”said one of them;“and its not me should tell you your business, but I wouldn't tote that tent along if I was you.”

“Undreamed of!”cried Mercedes, throwing up her hands in dainty dismay.“However in the world could I manage without a tent?”

“It's springtime, and you won't get any more cold weather,”the man replied.

She shook her head decidedly, and Charles and Hal put the last odds and ends on top the mountainous load.

“Think it'll ride?”one of the men asked.

“Why shouldn't it?”Charles demanded rather shortly.

“Oh, that's all right, that's all right,”the man hastened meekly to say.“I was just a wondering, that is all. It seemed a mite top-heavy.”

Charles turned his back and drew the lashings down as well as he could, which was not in the least well.

“And of course the dogs can hike along all day with that contraption behind them,”affirmed a second of the men.

“Certainly,”said Hal, with freezing politeness, taking hold of the gee-pole with one hand and swinging his whip from the other.“Mush!”He shouted.“Mush on there!”

The dogs sprang against the breastbands, strained hard for a few moments, then relaxed. They were unable to move the sled.

“The lazy brutes, I'll show them,”he cried, preparing to lash out at them with the whip.

But Mercedes interfered, crying,“Oh, Hal, you mustn't,”as she caught hold of the whip and wrenched it from him.“The poor dears! Now you must promise you won't be harsh with them for the rest of the trip, or I won't go a step.”

“Precious lot you know about dogs,”her brother sneered,“and I wish you'd leave me alone. They're lazy, I tell you, and you've got to whip them to get anything out of them. That's their way. You ask anyone. Ask one of those men.”

Mercedes looked at them imploringly, untold repugnances at sight of pain written in her pretty face.

“They're weak as water, if you want to know,”came the reply from one of the men.“Plum tuckered out, that's what's the matter. They need a rest.”

“Rest be blanked,”said Hal, with his beardless lips; and Mercedes said,“Oh!”in pain and sorrow at the oath.

But she was a clannish creature, and rushed at once to the defense of her brother.“Never mind that man,”she said pointedly.“You're driving our dogs and you do what you think best with them.”

Again Hal's whip fell upon the dogs. They threw themselves against the breastbands, dug their feet into the packed snow, got down low to it, and put forth all their strength. The sled held as though it were an anchor. After two efforts, they stood still, panting. The whip was whistling savagely, when once more Mercedes interfered. She dropped on her knees before Buck, with tears in her eyes, and put her arms around his neck.

“You poor, poor dears,”she cried sympathetically,“why don't you pull hard? Then you wouldn't be whipped.”Buck did not like her, but he was feeling too miserable to resist her, taking it as a part of the day's miserable work.

One of the onlookers, who had been clenching his teeth to suppress hot speech, now spoke up:

“It's not that I care a whoop what becomes of you, but for the dogs’sakes I just want to tell you, you can help them a mighty lot by breaking out that sled. The runners are froze fast. Throw your weight against the gee-pole, right and left, and break it out.”

A third time the attempt was made, but this time, following the advice, Hal broke out the runners which had been frozen to the snow. The overloaded and unwieldy sled forged ahead, Buck and his mates struggling frantically under the rain of blows. A hundred yards ahead the path turned and sloped steeply into the main street. It would have required an experienced man to keep the top-heavy sled upright, and Hal was not such a man. As they swung on the turn the sled went over, spilling half its load through the loose lashings. The dogs never stopped. The lightened sled bounded on its side behind them. They were angry because of the ill treatment they had received and the unjust load. Buck was raging. He broke into a run, the team following his lead. Hal cried,“Whoa! Whoa!”But they gave no heed. He tripped and was pulled off his feet. The capsized sled ground over him, and the dogs dashed on up the street, adding to the gaiety of Skaguay as they scattered the remainder of the outfit along its chief thoroughfare.

Kind-hearted citizens caught the dogs and gathered up the scattered belongings. Also, they gave advice. Half the load and twice the dogs, if they ever expected to reach Dawson, was what was said. Hal and his sister and brother-in-law listened unwillingly, pitched tent, and overhauled the outfit. Canned goods were turned out that made men laugh, for canned goods on the Long Trail is a thing to dream about.“Blankets for a hotel,”quoth one of the men who laughed and helped.“Half as many is too much; get rid of them. Throw away that tent, and all those dishes-who's going to wash them, anyway? Good Lord, do you think you're traveling on a Pullman?”

And so it went, the inexorable elimination of the superfluous. Mercedes cried when her clothes-bags were dumped on the ground and article after article was thrown out. She cried in general, and she cried in particular over each discarded thing. She clasped hands about knees, rocking back and forth broken-heartedly. She averred she would not go an inch, not for a dozen Charleses. She appealed to everybody and to everything, finally wiping her eyes and proceeding to cast out even articles of apparel that were imperative necessaries. And in her zeal, when she had finished with her own, she attacked the belongings of her men and went through them like a tornado.

This accomplished, the outfit, though cut in half, was still a formidable bulk. Charles and Hal went out in the evening and bought six Outside dogs. They, added to the six of the original team, and Teek and Koona, the huskies obtained at the Rink Rapids on the record trip, brought the team up to fourteen. But the Outside dogs, though practically broken in since their landing, did not amount to much. Three were short-haired pointers, one was a Newfoundland, and the other two were mongrels of indeterminate breed. They did not seem to know anything, these newcomers. Buck and his comrades looked upon them with disgust, and though he speedily taught them their places and what not to do, he could not teach them what to do. They did not take kindly to trace and trail. With the exception of the two mongrels, they were bewildered and spirit-broken by the strange savage environment in which they found themselves and by the ill treatment they had received. The two mongrels were without spirit at all; bones were the only things breakable about them.

With the newcomers hopeless and forlorn, and the old team worn out by twenty-five hundred miles of continuous trail, the outlook was anything but bright. The two men, however, were quite cheerful. And they were proud, too. They were doing the thing in style, with fourteen dogs. They had seen other sleds depart over the Pass for Dawson, or come in from Dawson, but never had they seen a sled with so many as fourteen dogs. In the nature of Arctic travel there was a reason why fourteen dogs should not drag one sled, and that was that one sled could not carry the food for fourteen dogs. But Charles and Hal did not know this. They had worked the trip out with a pencil, so much to a dog, so many dogs, and so many days, Q.E.D. Mercedes looked over their shoulders and nodded comprehensively, it was all so very simple.

Late next morning Buck led the long team up the street. There was nothing lively about it, no snap or go in him and his fellows. They were starting dead weary. Four times he had covered the distance between Salt Water and Dawson, and the knowledge that, jaded and tired, he was facing the same trail once more, made him bitter. His heart was not in the work, nor was the heart of any dog. The Outsiders were timid and frightened, the Insiders without confidence in their masters.

Buck felt vaguely that there was no depending upon these two men and the woman. They did not know how to do anything, and as the days went by it became apparent that they could not learn. They were slack in all things, without order or discipline. It took them half the night to pitch a slovenly camp, and half the morning to break that camp and get the sled loaded in fashion so slovenly that for the rest of the day they were occupied in stopping and rearranging the load. Some days they did not make ten miles. On other days they were unable to get started at all. And on no day did they succeed in making more than half the distance used by the men as a basis in their dog-food computation.

It was inevitable that they should go short on dog food. But they hastened it by overfeeding, bringing the day nearer when underfeeding would commence. The Outsider dogs whose digestions had not been trained by chronic famine to make the most of little, had voracious appetites. And when, in addition to this, the worn-out huskies pulled weakly, Hal decided that the orthodox ration was too small. He doubled it. And to cap it all, when Mercedes, with tears in her pretty eyes and a quaver in her throat, could not cajole him into giving the dogs still more, she stole from the fish-sacks and fed them slyly. But is was not food that Buck and the huskies needed, but rest. And though they were making poor time, the heavy load they dragged sapped their strength severely.

Then came the underfeeding. Hal awoke one day to the fact that his dog food was half-gone and the distance only quarter covered; further, that for love or money no additional dog food was to be obtained. So he cut down even the orthodox ration and tried to increase the day's travel. His sister and brother-in-law seconded him; but they were frustrated by their heavy outfit and their own incompetence. It was a simple matter to give the dogs less food; but it was impossible to make the dogs travel faster, while their own inability to get under way earlier in the morning prevented them from traveling longer hours. Not only did they not know how to work dogs, but they did not know how to work themselves.

The first to go was Dub. Poor blundering thief that he was, always getting caught and punished, he had none the less been a faithful worker. His wrenched shoulder-blade, untreated and unrested, went from bad to worse, till finally Hal shot him with the big Colt's revolver. It is a saying of the country that an Outside dog starves to death on the ration of the husky, so the six Outside dogs under Buck could do no less than die on half the ration of the husky. The Newfoundland went first, followed by the three short-haired pointers, the two mongrels hanging more grittily on to life, but going in the end.

By this time all the amenities and gentleness of the Southland had fallen away from the three people. Shorn of its glamour and romance, Arctic travel became to them a reality too harsh for their manhood and womanhood. Mercedes ceased weeping over the dogs, being too occupied with weeping over herself and with quarreling with her husband and brother. To quarrel was the one thing they were never too weary to do. Their irritability arose out of their misery, increased with it, doubled upon it, out-distanced it. The wonderful patience of the trail which comes to men who toil hard and suffer sore, and remain sweet of speech and kindly, did not come to these two men and the woman. They had no inkling of such a patience. They were stiff and in pain; their muscles ached, their bones ached, their very hearts ached; and because of this they became sharp of speech, and hard words were first on their lips in the morning and last at night.

Charles and Hal wrangled whenever Mercedes gave them a chance. It was the cherished belief of each that he did more than his share of the work, and neither forbore to speak this belief at every opportunity. Sometimes Mercedes sided with her husband, sometimes with her brother. The result was a beautiful and unending family quarrel. Starting from a dispute as to which should chop a few sticks for the fire (a dispute which concerned only Charles and Hal), presently would be lugged in the rest of the family, fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, people thousands of miles away, and some of them dead. That Hal's views on art, or the sort of society plays his mother's brother wrote, should have anything to do with the chopping of a few sticks of firewood, passes comprehension; nevertheless the quarrel was as likely to tend in that direction as in the direction of Charles's political prejudices. And that Charles's sister's tale-bearing tongue should be relevant to the building of a Yukon fire, was apparent only to Mercedes, who disburdened herself of copious opinions upon that topic, and incidentally upon a few other traits unpleasantly peculiar to her husband's family. In the meantime the fire remained unbuilt, the camp half-pitched, and the dogs unfed.

Mercedes nursed a special grievance-the grievance of sex. She was pretty and soft, and had been chivalrously treated all her days. But the present treatment by her husband and brother was everything save chivalrous. It was her custom to be helpless. They complained. Upon which impeachment of what to her was her most essential sex prerogative, she made their lives unendurable. She no longer considered the dogs, and because she was sore and tired, she persisted in riding in the sled. She was pretty and soft, but she weighed one hundred and twenty pounds-a lusty last straw to the load dragged by the weak and starving animals. She rode for days, till they fell in the traces and the sled stood still. Charles and Hal begged her to get off and walk, pleaded with her, entreated, the while she wept and importuned Heaven with a recital of their brutality.

On one occasion they took her off the sled by main strength. They never did it again. She let her legs go limp like a spoiled child, and sat down on the trail. They went on their way, but she did not move. After they had traveled three miles they unloaded the sled, came back for her, and by main strength put her on the sled again.

In the excess of their own misery they were callous to the suffering of their animals.Hal's theory, which he practiced on others, was that one must get hardened. He had started out preaching it to his sister and brother-in-law. Failing there, he hammered it into the dogs with a club. At the Five Fingers the dog food gave out, and a toothless old squaw offered to trade them a few pounds of frozen horsehide for the Colt's revolver that kept the big hunting knife company at Hal's hip. A poor substitute for food was this hide, just as it had been stripped from the starved horses of the cattlemen six months back. In its frozen state it was more like strips of galvanized iron, and when a dog wrestled it into his stomach, it thawed into thin and unnutritious leathery strings and into a mass of short hair, irritating and indigestible.

And through it all Buck staggered along at the head of the team as in a nightmare. He pulled when he could; when he could no longer pull, he fell down and remained down till blows from whip or club drove him to his feet again. All the stiffness and gloss had gone out of his beautiful furry coat. The hair hung down, limp and draggled, or matted with dried blood where Hal's club had bruised him. His muscles had wasted away to knotty strings, and the flesh pads had disappeared, so that each rib and every bone in his frame were outlined cleanly through the loose hide that was wrinkled in folds of emptiness. It was heartbreaking, only Buck's heart was unbreakable. The man in the red sweater had proved that.

As it was with Buck, so was it with his mates. They were perambulating skeletons. There were seven all together, including him. In their very great misery they had become insensible to the bite of the lash or the bruise of the club. The pain of the beating was dull and distant, just as the things their eyes saw and their ears heard seemed dull and distant. They were not half-living, or quarter-living. They were simply so many bags of bones in which sparks of life fluttered faintly. When a halt was made, they dropped down in the traces like dead dogs, and the spark dimmed and paled and seemed to go out. And when the club or whip fell upon them, the spark fluttered feebly up, and they tottered to their feet and staggered on.

There came a day when Billee, the good-natured, fell and could not rise. Hal had traded off his revolver, so he took the axe and knocked Billee on the head as he lay in the traces, then cut the carcass out of the harness and dragged it to one side. Buck saw, and his mates saw, and they knew that this thing was very close to them. On the next day Koona went, and but five of them remained: Joe, too far gone to be malignant; Pike, crippled and limping, only half-conscious and not conscious enough longer to malinger; Sol-leks, the one-eyed, still faithful to the toil of trace and trail, and mournful in that he had so little strength with which to pull; Teek, who had not traveled so far that winter and who was now beaten more than the others because he was fresher; and Buck, still at the head of the team, but no longer enforcing discipline or striving to enforce it, blind with weakness half the time and keeping the trail by the loom of it and by the dim feel of his feet.

It was beautiful spring weather, but neither dogs nor humans were aware of it. Each day the sun rose earlier and set later. It was dawn by three in the morning, and twilight lingered till nine at night. The whole long day was a blaze of sunshine. The ghostly winter silence had given way to the great spring murmur of awakening life. This murmur arose from all the land, fraught with the joy of living. It came from the things that lived and moved again, things which had been as dead and which had not moved during the long months of frost. The sap was rising in the pines. The willows and aspens were bursting out in young buds. Shrubs and vines were putting on fresh garbs of green. Crickets sang in the nights, and in the days all manner of creeping, crawling things rustled forth into the sun. Partridges and woodpeckers were booming and knocking in the forest. Squirrels were chattering, birds singing, and overhead honked the wild fowl driving up from the south in cunning wedges that split the air.

From every hill slope came the trickle of water, the music of unseen fountains. All things were thawing, bending, snapping. The Yukon was straining to break loose the ice that bound it down. It ate away from beneath; the sun ate from above. Air-holes formed, fissures sprang and spread apart, while thin sections of ice fell through bodily into the river. And amid all this bursting, rending, throbbing of awakening life, under the blazing sun and through the soft-sighing breezes, like wayfarers to death, staggered the two men, the woman and the huskies.

With the dogs falling, Mercedes weeping and riding, Hal swearing innocuously, and Charles eyes wistfully watering, they staggered into John Thornton's camp at the mouth of the White River. When they halted, the dogs dropped down as though they had all been struck dead. Mercedes dried her eyes and looked at John Thornton. Charles sat down on a log to rest. He sat down very slowly and painstakingly, what of his great stiffness. Hal did the talking. John Thornton was whittling the last touches on an axe-handle he had made from a stick of birch. He whittled and listened, gave monosyllabic replies, and when it was asked, terse advice. He knew the breed, and he gave his advice in the certainty that it would not be followed.

“They told us up above that the bottom was dropping out of the trail and that the best thing for us to do was to lay over,”Hal said in response to Thornton's warning to take no more chances on the rotten ice.“They told us we couldn't make White River, and here we are.”This last with a sneering ring of triumph in it.

“And they told you true,”John Thornton answered.“The bottom's likely to drop out at any moment. Only fools, with the blind luck of fools, could have made it. I tell you straight, I wouldn't risk my carcass on that ice for all the gold in Alaska.”

“That's because you're not a fool, I suppose,”said Hal.“All the same, we'll go on to Dawson.”He uncoiled his whip.“Get up there, Buck! Hi! Get up there! Mush on!”

Thornton went on whittling. It was idle, he knew, to get between a fool and his folly;while two or three fools more or less would not alter the scheme of things.

But the team did not get up at the command. It had long since passed into the stage where blows were required to rouse it. The whip flashed out, here and there, on its merciless errands. John Thornton compressed his lips. Sol-leks was the first to crawl to his feet. Teek followed. Joe came next, yelping with pain. Pike made painful efforts. Twice he fell over, when half-up, and on the third attempt managed to rise. Buck made no effort. He lay quietly where he had fallen. The lash bit into him again and again, but he neither whined nor struggled. Several times Thornton started, as though to speak, but changed his mind. A moisture came into his eyes, and, as the whipping continued, he arose and walked irresolutely up and down.

This was the first time Buck had failed, in itself a sufficient reason to drive Hal into a rage. He exchanged the whip for the customary club. Buck refused to move under the rain of heavier blows which now fell upon him. Like his mates, he was barely able to get up, but, unlike them, He had made up his mind not to get up. He had a vague feeling of impending doom. This had been strong upon him when he pulled into the bank, and it had not departed from him. What of the thin and rotten ice he had felt under his feet all day, it seemed that he sensed disaster close at hand, out there ahead on the ice where his master was trying to drive him. He refused to stir. So greatly had he suffered, and so far gone was he, that the blows did not hurt much. And as they continued to fall upon him, the spark of life within flickered and went down. It was nearly out. He felt strangely numb. As though from a great distance, he was aware that he was being beaten. The last sensations of pain left him. He no longer felt anything, though very faintly he could hear the impact of the club upon his body. But it was no longer his body, it seemed so far away.

And then, suddenly, without warning, uttering a cry that was inarticulate and more like the cry of an animal, John Thornton sprang upon the man who wielded the club. Hal was hurled backward, as though struck by a falling tree. Mercedes screamed. Charles looked on wistfully, wiped his watery eyes, but did not get up because of his stiffness.

John Thornton stood over Buck, struggling to control himself, too convulsed with rage to speak.

“If you strike that dog again, I'll kill you,”he at last managed to say in a choking voice.“It's my dog,”Hal replied, wiping the blood from his mouth as he came back.“Get out of my way, or I'll fix you. I'm going to Dawson.”

Thornton stood between him and Buck and evinced no intention of getting out of the way. Hal drew his long hunting knife. Mercedes screamed, cried, laughed, and manifested the chaotic abandonment of hysteria. Thornton rapped Hal's knuckles with the axe-handle, knocking the knife to the ground. He rapped his knuckles again as he tried to pick it up. Then he stooped, picked it up himself, and with two strokes cut Buck's traces.

Hal had no fight left in him. Besides, his hands were full with his sister, or his arms, rather; while Buck was too near dead to be of further use in hauling the sled. A few minutes later they pulled out from the bank and down the river. Buck heard them go and raised his head to see. Pike was leading, Sol-leks was at the wheel, and between were Joe and Teek. They were limping and staggering. Mercedes was riding the loaded sled. Hal guided at the gee-pole, and Charles stumbled along in the rear.

As Buck watched them, Thornton knelt beside him and with rough, kindly hands searched for broken bones. By the time his search had disclosed nothing more than many bruises and a state of terrible starvation, the sled was a quarter of a mile away. Dog and man watched it crawling along over the ice. Suddenly, they saw its back end drop down, as into a rut, and the gee-pole, with Hal clinging to it, jerk into the air. Mercedes’scream came to their ears. They saw Charles turn one step to run back, Sand then a whole section of ice give way and dogs and humans disappear. A yawning hole was all that was to be seen. The bottom had dropped out of the trail.

John Thorton and Buck looked at each other.

“You poor devil,”said John Thornton and Buck licked his hand.

離開道森三十天后，由巴克和它的隊友們做開路先鋒的鹽水郵班，到達了斯卡格鎮。它們都可憐巴巴，筋疲力盡，狼狽不堪。巴克一百四十磅的體重已經逐漸減少到了一百一十五磅。盡管它的隊友們體重較輕，但失去的體重相對比它還多。裝病的派克一輩子都在裝病，裝腿受傷常常裝得非常成功，現在是真的瘸了。索爾雷克斯也瘸了，達布因肩胛扭傷而痛苦。

它們的蹄子都疼得厲害，沒有了彈力或回跳力。它們的蹄子沉重地落向雪道，會使它們的身體受到震動并成倍增加每天旅途的勞累。除了累得要死，它們沒有任何毛病。這不是短時間用力過度產生的也不是幾個小時就能恢復的極度疲勞，而是通過緩慢的長達幾個月辛苦體力消耗的極度疲勞。沒有剩下恢復的力量，沒有了需要的儲備力量。它們已經耗盡了最后的一點氣力。每塊肌肉、每根纖維、每個細胞都累，累得要死。這是有原因的。不到五個月，它們已經跑了二千五百英里，最后的一千八百英里行程中只休息過五天。它們到達斯卡格鎮時，顯然腿都抬不起來了，連韁繩都拉不直了，下坡時只是想設法避開雪橇。

“繼續走，可憐的痛腳們，”當它們搖搖晃晃沿著斯加圭鎮的大街走時，駕橇人鼓勵它們說，“這是最后幾步。然后，我們就能休息好長時間。呃？真的。好好休息很長時間。”

那些駕橇人充滿自信地盼望來一次長久的中途停留。他們自己已經趕了一千二百英里路程，只休息了兩天，所以理所當然應該閑逛一段時間。但是，涌入克朗代克地區的人很多，沒有涌入的情人、妻子和親人也很多，因此積壓的郵件堆成了山，同時，還有一些公函。一批批來自哈得孫灣精力旺盛的狗就要取代那些無力上路的狗。這些沒用的狗就要處理掉，因為狗跟美元相比無足輕重，所以把它們賣掉就行了。

三天過去了。此時，巴克和它的隊友們發現它們實在是疲乏虛弱。接下來，第四天上午，兩個美國人過來用區區幾個小錢就把它們連同全套挽具全都買下了。這兩個人彼此稱呼“哈爾”和“查爾斯”。查爾斯是一個膚色略淺的中年人，一雙水汪汪的眼睛，淡淡的眼光，胡子猛烈有力地翹起，遮住了軟弱無力耷拉下來的嘴唇。哈爾是一個十九或二十歲的年輕人，身上束著皮帶，皮帶上別著一支柯爾特式大轉輪手槍和一把獵刀，還鼓鼓囊囊地裝滿了子彈。這條皮帶是他的身上最顯眼的東西。這表明了他乳臭未干——徹頭徹尾的乳臭未干。顯然這兩個人格格不入，他們為什么冒險來到北方有點讓人莫名其妙，難以理解。

巴克聽到他們討價還價，看到錢在那個人和政府人員之間轉手。于是，明白了，那個蘇格蘭混血兒和郵車駕橇人會隨著佩羅和弗朗索瓦以及先前離去的其他人一樣從它的生活中消失。當巴克和它的隊友們被趕到新主人的營地后，它看到的是一件邋遢懶散的事兒——帳篷搭了一半，碟子沒洗，一切都亂糟糟的，此外，它還看到一個女人。那兩個男人叫她“梅塞德斯”。她是查爾斯的妻子，哈爾的姐姐——挺好的一家人。

在他們動手拆帳篷、裝雪橇時，巴克擔心地望著他們。他們干活的樣子非常賣力，但毫無章法。本該卷好的帳篷卷成了難看的一堆，比原來大了兩倍。錫盤沒洗就收了起來。梅塞德斯不斷跑來跑去，礙手礙腳，嘮嘮叨叨，說三道四。當他們把一包衣服放在雪橇前面時，她提議應該放在后面，而當他們把那個包放在后面，上面又堆了兩三個包時，她發現漏掉了幾件東西，這幾件東西只能放進剛才那個包里，所以他們又卸了下來。

鄰近一個帳篷里走出三個人，在旁邊看著，咧嘴而笑，擠眉弄眼。

“你們裝的東西真多啊，”其中一個說，“你們的事兒，不應該我告訴你們，但我要是你們，就不會帶那頂帳篷了。”

“做夢也別想！”梅塞德斯動作優雅而又驚慌地舉起雙手喊道，“沒有帳篷，我可怎么辦？”

“都到春天了，天氣不會再冷了。”那個人答道。

她果斷地搖了搖頭。于是，查爾斯和哈爾把最后的零碎東西堆到了小山似的雪橇上。

“你以為它會走得動嗎？”又一個人問道。

“為什么不會？”查爾斯相當簡略地反問道。

“噢，好了，好了，”那個人趕忙口氣溫和地說，“我剛才只是感到好奇，僅此而已。好像有點兒頭重腳輕。”

查爾斯轉過身，盡可能拉緊綁繩，但一點兒也不緊。

“那些狗拉著那些那奇妙玩意肯定能跑一整天。”另一個人斷言說。

“當然。”哈爾冰冷而又禮貌地說，一只手握著駕駛桿，另一只手揮動鞭子。“走！”他喊道，“快走啊！”

那些狗一躍而起，胸帶繃緊了好一會兒，然后又放松下來。它們拉不動這雪橇。

“懶畜生，我要給它們好看。”他叫喊著，準備拿鞭子抽打它們。

但是，梅塞德斯大叫著進行干涉：“噢，哈爾，你不能。”她抓住鞭子，從他手里奪了過來。“這些可憐的寶貝！現在你必須向我保證，你不能那對它們那樣狠，否則我一步路也不走了。”

“你對狗真懂行，”她的弟弟冷笑說，“我希望你別管我的事兒。我告訴你，它們偷懶，你必須得抽打它們，它們才會賣力。它們就是這樣。你去問問別人。問問那些人中的任何一個人。”

梅塞德斯用懇求的目光望著他們，漂亮的臉蛋上露出了難以言表、反感痛苦的表情。

“你要是想知道的話，那就是它們柔弱得像一攤水，”其中一個人答道，“累得筋疲力盡了，這才是問題的關鍵。它們需要休息。”

“休息個屁。”嘴上沒毛的哈爾說。聽到這句罵人話，梅塞德斯痛苦傷心地“噢”了一聲。

但是，她是一個以家族為重的人，他馬上奔去保護弟弟：“不用擔心那個人，”她直截了當地說，“你趕的是我們的狗，你認為怎么最好就怎么干。”

哈爾的鞭子又落在了那些狗的身上。它們挺身頂著胸帶，蹄子踩進了壓實的雪地里，俯下身體，竭盡全力。雪橇像錨一樣定住了。努力了兩次后，它們靜立在那里氣喘吁吁。鞭子發出野蠻的呼嘯，這時梅塞德斯又一次進行干涉。她跪在巴克面前，眼含淚水摟住它的脖子。

“你這可憐巴巴的寶貝，”她同情地哭道，“你為什么不用勁拉呀？那樣你就不會挨鞭子了。”巴克不喜歡她，但它太難過了，無法拒絕她，把這看成是一天悲慘工作的一部分。

其中一個旁觀者一直咬緊牙關不說過火話，現在大聲說道：

“你們怎么樣，我毫不在乎，但看在這群狗的份上，我只想告訴你們，你們撬活那個雪橇，就能幫它們大忙了。滑板凍住了。用力推駕駛桿，左右兩邊推，就撬活了。”

又嘗試了第三次，但這次聽從勸告，哈爾撬活了凍在雪里的滑板。這個超載笨重的雪橇向前移動了，巴克和它的隊友們在雨點般的鞭打下拼命地拉著。前面一百碼的地方，雪道轉過彎，順著陡坡進入大街。這需要一個經驗豐富的人讓這個頭重腳輕的雪橇保持垂直，而哈爾不是這樣的人。它們上彎道時，雪橇翻倒了，沒綁牢固，一半東西都撒在了地上。狗從來沒有停步。減輕重量的雪橇在它們身后側跳著。它們之所以生氣，是因為受到虐待和載的東西過重。巴克怒不可遏，撒腿跑了起來，狗隊在它的帶領下也跑了起來。哈爾大喊“停！停！”但是，它們都毫不理睬。哈爾絆了一下，被雪橇拖倒在地。翻倒的雪橇從他的身上壓了過去，而那群狗沖上斯卡格鎮的大街，把雪橇上剩下的行李撒得滿街都是，給鎮上增添了歡樂氣氛。

心地善良的市民們攔住了那些狗，收拾好散落的東西，同時還提出了建議。他們說，要是他們希望到達道森，就要縮減一半行裝，把狗增加一倍。哈爾和他的姐姐、姐夫聽著很不情愿，支起帳篷，全面檢查了一遍行裝。

翻出來的罐裝食品讓人們大笑起來，因為罐裝食品在長途旅行中是做夢都不敢想的東西。“毯子夠開一個旅館了，”一個笑著幫忙的人說，“少一半都太多了。處理了吧。把帳篷和所有那些器皿都扔掉吧——反正，誰會去洗它們呢？好家伙，你們以為這是坐臥鋪車旅行嗎？”

于是，他們才狠狠心處理掉多余的物品。當那些衣服袋倒在地上，一件接一件扔出去時，梅塞德斯哭了起來。她泛泛而哭，尤其是為扔掉的每件東西而哭。她兩手抱住膝蓋，傷心得前仰后合。她宣稱，她一步都不會走了，即使為了十二個查爾斯也不走了。她向每個人、每件東西哭訴，最后擦了擦眼淚，動手扔起了東西，甚至連一些必不可少的衣服都扔了出去。她越扔越有勁，扔完自己的東西后，又龍卷風似的橫掃起男人們的東西。

扔完東西之后，盡管行裝減半，但還是可怕的一大堆。傍晚時分，哈爾和查爾斯出去買了六條狗回來。六名原隊員加上六條外來狗，以及在林克湍灘那次創紀錄旅行時得到的兩條愛斯基摩狗蒂克和庫納，現在發展到了十四條狗。而盡管那六條外來狗來到以后就被制服了，但沒有多大價值。三條是短毛獵狗，一條是紐芬蘭狗，另外兩條是品種不明的雜種狗。這些新來的狗，它們好像什么都不懂。巴克和它的伙伴們看到它們就反感，盡管巴克很快就讓它們安分守己，告訴它們不該做什么，但就是教不會它們做什么。它們天生不喜歡拉雪橇。除了那兩條雜種狗，環境殘酷陌生，受到種種虐待，它們不知所措，心灰意冷。那兩條雜種狗根本沒有精神，只剩下了容易破碎的骨頭。

新來者孤獨凄涼、沒有希望，老隊員連續跑了兩千五百英里，疲憊不堪，前景毫不光明。然而，那兩個男人卻興高采烈，也趾高氣揚。他們有十四條狗，做得非常成功。他們見過其他雪橇離開這里，翻過山口，駛向道森，也見過來自道森的雪橇，但從來沒有見過一個雪橇有多達十四條狗。就北極旅行的性質而言，十四條狗不該拉一個雪橇有一個原因，那就是一個雪橇上帶不了十四條狗吃的食物。但是，查爾斯和哈爾并不知道這一點。他們已經用鉛筆計算好了行程，每條狗吃多少，有多少條狗，要走多少天，有待證明等。梅塞德斯越過他們的肩膀望著，領悟地點點頭，一切都如此簡單。

第二天上午晚些時候，巴克率領長長的隊伍來到街上。巴克和它的那些伙伴有氣無力、無精打采。它們出發時累得要死。鹽湖和道森之間的這條路，巴克已經來回走過了四趟，了如指掌，膩了，也累了，再次面對同樣一條路，感到難受。它的心思不在工作上，別的狗也沒有心思。六條外來狗膽小害怕，原來那些隊員對它們的這幾位主人也沒有信心。

巴克隱約感到根本無法依靠這兩男一女。他們對干什么事兒都不懂，而且隨著一天天過去，他們顯然也學不會。他們對什么事兒都懶懶散散，毫無條理。他們扎一個馬馬虎虎的營帳要花半天，拔營和勉強馬馬虎虎裝完雪橇要花半上午。因此，在一天剩下的時間里，他們都在忙著停下來重新整理雪橇。有些日子他們一天走不了十英里。還有些日子，他們根本無法上路。那兩個男人以每天走的路程為根據算好狗糧，但它們沒有一天能走上一半路程。

狗糧短缺，是不可避免的。但是，過量喂食加速了狗糧短缺，使狗糧不足的日子提前到來。只有經過慢性饑餓鍛煉的消化能力，才會盡量利用少量食物，外來狗沒有這些鍛煉，所以具有貪吃的大胃口。除此以外，那些疲憊不堪的愛斯基摩狗拉得有氣無力，哈爾認定這常規的狗糧定量太少了，就把定量增加了一倍。更有甚者，當梅塞德斯美麗的眼睛噙滿淚水，喉嚨發出顫音，也不能讓他多給狗喂一些時，她就從魚袋里偷東西，暗地里喂它們。但是，巴克和那些愛斯基摩狗需要的不是食物，而是休息。盡管它們跑得很慢，但它們拖著沉重貨載嚴重地消耗了體力。

隨后食物不足的日子就來了。有一天，哈爾醒來發現，狗糧消耗了一半，路只走了四分之一，此外，無論如何也搞不到額外的狗糧。于是，他削減了狗糧的常規定量，還要設法讓狗每天多跑路。姐姐和姐夫支持他，但是，他們被沉重的行裝和自己的無能弄得灰心喪氣。少給狗食是一件簡單的事兒，但是，讓狗走得更快卻不可能，同時他們自己早上也沒有能力早點收拾好行裝上路，所以無法延長走路時間。他們不僅不知道怎么讓狗干活，也不知道怎么讓自己干活。

第一個死去的是達布。它是一個可憐的笨賊，總被逮住，受到懲罰，但它仍然忠心耿耿地干活。它扭傷的肩胛沒有得到休息和治療，越來越糟，最后哈爾用科爾特式大轉輪手槍射殺了它。這個地方有一個說法，就是外來狗按照愛斯基摩狗的定量就會餓死，所以巴克手下的六條外來狗只能吃愛斯基摩狗定量的一半。那條紐芬蘭狗第一個餓死，隨后是那三條短毛獵狗、那兩條雜種狗頑強地又活了幾天，但最后還是死了。

此時，這三個人已經失去了南方人所有的親切和禮儀。北極旅行失去了魅力和浪漫，對他們這樣的男女來說成為過于殘酷的現實。梅塞德斯忙著為自己的事兒哭泣，忙著跟丈夫和弟弟爭吵，不再為那些狗哭泣。只有吵架這件事，他們永遠不會疲倦。他們因不幸而脾氣暴躁，越是不幸，脾氣就越暴躁，越是脾氣暴躁，就越不幸，所以脾氣暴躁大大超過了不幸。在雪地旅行的人具有驚人的耐性，他們苦干苦熬，仍然說話和氣，待人親切，這兩男一女沒有這些耐性。他們連絲毫這種耐性都沒有。他們渾身僵硬、疼痛。肌肉疼，骨頭疼，他們的心都在疼。因此，他們說話尖刻，從早到晚說出的話都非常難聽。

只要梅塞德斯把機會給查爾斯和哈爾，他們就吵嘴。他們各自都懷著一種信念，認為自己干的超過了分內的工作，一有機會，誰都要表達這種信念。梅塞德斯有時站在丈夫這邊，有時站在弟弟那邊。結果成了一場精彩紛呈、沒完沒了的家庭糾紛。起先是為誰該去砍柴火爭吵（只是查爾斯和哈爾之間的爭吵），不久便把家里的其他人——父親、母親、叔伯、堂親、表親，以及幾千里外的人——都拉了進來，有的都已經死了。哈爾對藝術或他舅舅寫的什么社會劇的看法，居然會跟砍幾根柴火扯上關系，讓人不可思議。然而，爭吵有可能趨向那個方面，也有可能指向查爾斯的政治偏見。查爾斯的姐姐搬弄是非的舌頭應該跟育空營火的升起有關，顯然只有梅塞德斯明白，她自己對這個話題大發議論，順便還對婆家人一些讓她不快的獨有秉性大發議論。此時，火還沒有生，帳篷搭了一半，狗也沒有喂。

梅塞德斯懷有一種特別的委屈——女性的委屈。她漂亮溫柔，整天都受到殷勤款待。但是，她的丈夫和弟弟現在對她毫不殷勤。她的習慣就是做出一副無助的樣子。他們牢騷滿腹。她最根本的女性特權就是指責，使他們的生活難以忍受。她不再考慮那些狗，因為她疼痛疲憊，堅持要坐雪橇。盡管她漂亮溫柔，但她體重一百二十磅——要在那些虛弱饑餓的狗拉的貨物上加裝這一充滿活力的最后沉重的負擔。她坐了好幾天雪橇，直至它們倒在雪道上，雪橇停住不動。查爾斯和哈爾求她下來走路，苦苦哀求，而她卻哭天抹淚，訴說他們的野蠻。

有一次，他們用盡力氣才把她從雪橇上拽下來。他們再也沒有那樣干過。她像一個寵壞的孩子兩腿癱坐在雪道上。他們繼續向前走，但她沒有動彈。他們走了三英里后，卸下雪橇，回來找她，用盡了力氣又把她放到了雪橇上。

他們自己苦不堪言，所以對牲畜的苦漠不關心。哈爾對別人采取的理論就是，一個人心腸必須狠。他動身時向姐姐和姐夫宣揚過這個理論。他向他們宣揚失敗后，就用棍棒把這種理論砸進了狗的腦海里。到了五指山，狗食分完了，一個沒牙的印第安老太太提出用幾磅凍馬皮交換那支和大獵刀一起掛在哈爾臀間的科爾特式左輪手槍。這種皮是低劣的食物替代品，因為這馬皮是六個月前從牧場主那些餓死的馬身上剝下來的。它凍硬后更像是一條條白鐵皮，當狗撕碎咽到肚里后，就化成了一根根缺少養分的細皮繩，再變成一團短毛，既刺激腸胃又難以消化。

巴克像在噩夢中一樣，承受一切，搖搖晃晃地走在狗隊前面領路。它拉得動時就拉，拉不動時就倒下來，躺在地上，直到鞭子或棍子又把它趕起來。它漂亮毛皮的彈性和光澤已經消失了。在哈爾打傷它的地方，毛發耷拉，軟弱無力，拖得又臟又濕，與干血凝結在了一起。它的肌肉已經瘦成了一根根扭結的細繩，肉趾不見了，因此皮下空空，層層打褶，骨架上的每根肋骨和每根骨頭透過松松垮垮的皮完全顯露了出來。這令人心碎，只有巴克的心是牢不可破的。那個穿紅毛衣的人已經證明了這一點。

巴克就是這樣，它的伙伴們也是這樣。它們都成了會走路的骨架。總共還有七條狗，包括巴克。它們處在極大的痛苦之中，對鞭抽或棒打已經麻木不仁。挨打的疼痛隱約模糊，就像它們耳聞目睹的那些東西都隱約模糊一樣。它們剩下了半條命或四分之一條命。它們只是一袋袋的骨頭，里面的生命閃著微弱的火花。雪橇停下后，它們就像死狗一樣倒在雪道上，生命的火花暗淡蒼白，仿佛就要熄滅了。而當棍子或鞭子落在它們的身上時，火花又微弱閃亮起來。于是，它們搖搖晃晃站起來，踉蹌前行。

終于有一天，脾氣溫和的比勒倒下，爬不起來了。哈爾已經賣掉了左輪手槍。所以，當比勒倒在韁繩下時，他拿起斧頭砍在比勒的頭上，然后砍斷它的韁繩，把尸體拖到了一邊。巴克看到了，它的伙伴們也看到了，它們明白，這種事離自己很近。第二天，庫納也死去了，只剩下五條狗了：喬快不行了，也沒有什么惡意了；派克一瘸一拐，只剩下了一半知覺，這知覺連裝病都不夠用了；獨眼索爾雷克斯仍然忠心耿耿辛苦拉橇，對自己沒有多少力氣拉橇感到傷心；蒂克這年冬天跑得沒有多遠，勁頭比較足，現在挨的打比誰都多；巴克仍在狗隊前面走著，但不再加強紀律，或者說不再努力加強紀律，它常常因虛弱而兩眼昏花，只能憑借雪道的蒙眬影子和蹄子的模糊觸覺沿路前行。

這是美麗的春天，但人和狗都沒有意識到這一點。每天，太陽升得更早，落得更晚。凌晨三點天已破曉，黃昏則一直逗留到晚上九點鐘。整天都是陽光普照。冬天幽靈般可怕的寂靜已經變成了偉大春天生命覺醒的喃喃細語。這種喃喃細語源自整個大地，充滿生命的歡樂。它來自那些復活、又能運動的東西，這些東西仿佛死去一般，在漫漫長冬一動不動。松樹漸漸地煥發出了生機。柳樹和白楊吐出了嫩芽。灌木叢和藤蔓植物披上了新鮮的綠裝。夜里蟋蟀歡唱，白天各種爬行動物颯颯作響急速爬到太陽地。鷓鴣在森林里咕咕咕叫著，啄木鳥在篤篤篤啄著。松鼠在吱吱叫，小鳥在歌唱，從南方飛來的大雁排成精巧的楔形劃破長空，嘎嘎叫著從頭頂飛過。

每個山坡都有潺潺流水，那是隱秘山泉奏出的樂曲。萬物都在解凍、軟化、噼啪作響。禁錮育空河的冰層正在奮力掙破。河水從下面銷蝕了冰層，太陽從上面烤化了冰面。氣孔成形，裂縫出現，越來越寬，薄冰面全部落入河中。在所有這迸發、爆裂和悸動的蘇醒的生命中，在閃耀的太陽下，穿過輕聲呼嘯的風，兩男一女和那些愛斯基摩狗蹣跚而行，就像走向死亡的行者。

那些狗一路摔倒，梅塞德斯哭哭啼啼坐在雪橇上，哈爾無關痛癢地罵著，查爾斯愁眉苦臉流著眼淚，他們跌跌撞撞地走進了位于白河河口約翰·桑頓的營地。他們停下來時，那些狗倒在地上，就像被打死了一般。梅塞德斯擦干眼睛，望著約翰·桑頓。查爾斯在一根圓木上坐下休息。他渾身僵硬，慢慢地、吃力地坐下來。哈爾攀談起來。約翰·桑頓在用一根樺木棍做斧柄，正在削最后幾刀。他一邊削，一邊聽，發出單調的回應聲，而且，哈爾提問時，他給幾句扼要的忠告。他了解這種人，就是給了忠告，他們肯定也不會去遵循。

“在上面時，他們就告訴我們說，雪道的底層的冰會裂開，我們最好是延期，”桑頓告誡他們不要在融化的冰上冒險時，哈爾回答說，“他們告訴我們說，我們到不了白河，結果我們到了這里。”這最后一句帶著勝利的嘲笑。

“他們對你們說的沒錯，”約翰·桑頓答道，“雪道的底層的冰隨時都有可能化掉。只有傻瓜，只有盲目碰運氣的傻瓜，才會走到這里。我對你們直說，就是為了阿拉斯加的所有金子，我也不會拿自己的生命在那種冰面上冒險。”

“我想，那是因為你不是傻瓜，”哈爾說，“無論如何我們還是要去道森。”他抖開鞭子。“起來，巴克！喂！起來了！走了！”

桑頓接著削了起來。他明白，干涉傻瓜干的蠢事沒有價值，多兩三個傻瓜，少兩三個傻瓜，都無關大局。

但是，狗隊聽到命令沒有起來。它們早已到了必須鞭打才能起身的地步。鞭子飛快地四處抽來抽去，執行無情的使命。約翰·桑頓緊閉嘴唇。索爾雷克斯第一個爬起身，接著是蒂克，隨后是喬，它痛得汪汪直叫。派克做了艱苦努力。它兩次起到一半都倒下了，第三次才努力站起來。巴克沒有努力。它靜靜地臥在原來倒下的地方。鞭子一次又一次地抽打在它的身上，但它既沒有哀鳴也沒有掙扎。桑頓好幾次站起身，好像要說什么，但都改變了主意。他的眼睛濕潤了，而且，在持續鞭打時，他站起身，猶豫不決，走來走去。

這是巴克第一次沒有站起來，這本身足夠有理由讓哈爾勃然大怒。他把鞭子換成了常用的棍子。現在雨點般更沉重的打擊落在巴克的身上，它就是不動。像同伴們一樣，它簡直站不起來了，但又和它們不一樣，它已經下定決心不起來了。它隱約感到死亡正在迫近。當它把雪橇拉上河岸時，這種感覺非常強烈，而且沒有消失。它整天都感覺到蹄子下面的蜂窩冰很薄，它似乎意識到災難近在咫尺，在前面的冰上，那里是它的主人正設法趕它去的地方。它拒絕移動。它萬分痛苦，奄奄一息，所以毆打的疼痛對它算不了什么。棍子繼續落在它身上的同時，生命的火花在它體內閃爍、熄滅，快要熄滅了。它有一種莫名其妙的麻木感，仿佛意識到自己正在距離很遠的地方挨打。它最后的疼痛感消失了。它什么也感覺不到了，只能微微聽到棍子落在骨頭上的撞擊聲。但是，那不再是它自己的身體，似乎是那樣遙遠。

接著，突然，約翰·桑頓沒有預兆發出了一聲含混不清的叫喊，更像是動物發出的吼叫，撲向那個揮舞棍子的人。哈爾被猛地推得連連后退，就像被一棵倒下的樹砸中一樣。梅塞德斯尖叫起來。查爾斯愁眉苦臉地旁觀著，擦了擦淚眼，但因為身體僵硬，沒有起來。

約翰·桑頓站在巴克的身邊，盡力控制自己，氣得哆嗦，說不出話來。

“你要是再打那條狗，我就殺了你。”他哽咽地說道。

“這是我的狗，”哈爾一邊往回走，一邊擦著嘴上的血答道，“你給我滾開，否則我就要收拾你。我要去道森。”

桑頓站在哈爾和巴克之間，沒有任何讓路的意圖。哈爾抽出了那把長獵刀。梅塞德斯尖叫，哭喊，大笑，歇斯底里，混亂不清，表現得非常任性。桑頓用斧柄敲了一下哈爾的指關節，把刀打落在地。當哈爾設法拾起刀時，桑頓又敲了一下哈爾的指關節。隨后，他彎下腰，親自拾起獵刀，兩下割斷了巴克身上的韁繩。

哈爾沒有了斗志。此外，他的姐姐完全抓著他的兩只手，準確地說是他的兩條胳膊，巴克離死不遠了，也用不著再拉橇了。幾分鐘后，他們離開河岸，沿河而走。巴克聽到他們離去，抬起頭看到，派克領頭，索爾雷克斯駕橇，喬和蒂克走在中間。它們一瘸一拐，踉蹌前行。梅塞德斯坐在載貨的雪橇上。哈爾操著駕駛桿，查爾斯跌跌撞撞地跟在雪橇后面。

巴克注視著他們，桑頓跪在它的身邊，用那雙粗糙的手慈愛地摸尋斷骨。他只發現了許多瘀傷和可怕的饑餓，此時雪橇離開了四分之一英里遠。巴克和桑頓望著雪橇在冰上爬行。突然，他們看到雪橇的后端墜了下去，像是陷進了溝轍里，哈爾緊緊握著的駕駛桿猛地翹到了半空中。梅塞德斯的尖叫聲傳進了他們的耳朵。他們看到查爾斯轉過身邁了一步想往回跑，隨后整個一塊冰塌了下去，人和狗都不見了蹤影。看到的只是一個張著大口的冰窟窿。雪道底層的冰已經融化了。

約翰·桑頓和巴克互相看著對方。

“你這可憐的家伙。”約翰·桑頓說，巴克舔了舔他的手。