. He
dropped the whip and shielded his throat with his arms. In consequence, his
forearm was ripped open to the bone.
    The man was badly frightened. It was not so much White Fang's ferocity as it
was his silence that unnerved the groom. Still protecting his throat and face
with his torn and bleeding arm, he tried to retreat to the barn. And it would
have gone hard with him had not Collie appeared on the scene. As she had saved
Dick's life, she now saved the groom's. She rushed upon White Fang in frenzied
wrath. She had been right. She had known better than the blundering gods. All
her suspicions were justified. Here was the ancient marauder up to his old
tricks again.
    The groom escaped into the stables, and White Fang backed away before
Collie's wicked teeth, or presented his shoulder to them and circled round and
round. But Collie did not give over, as was her wont, after a decent interval of
chastisement. On the contrary, she grew more excited and angry every moment,
until, in the end, White Fang flung dignity to the winds and frankly fled away
from her across the fields.
    »He'll learn to leave chickens alone,« the master said. »But I can't give
him the lesson until I catch him in the act.«
    Two nights later came the act, but on a more generous scale than the master
had anticipated. White Fang had observed closely the chicken-yards and the
habits of the chickens. In the night-time, after they had gone to roost, he
climbed to the top of a pile of newly hauled lumber. From there he gained the
roof of a chicken-house, passed over the ridgepole and dropped to the ground
inside. A moment later he was inside the house, and the slaughter began.
    In the morning, when the master came out on to the porch, fifty white
Leghorn hens, laid out in a row by the groom, greeted his eyes. He whistled to
himself, softly, first with surprise, and then, at the end, with admiration. His
eyes were likewise greeted by White Fang, but about the latter there were no
signs of shame nor guilt. He carried himself with pride, as though, forsooth, he
had achieved a deed praiseworthy and meritorious. There was about him no
consciousness of sin. The master's lips tightened as he faced the disagreeable
task. Then he talked harshly to the unwitting culprit, and in his voice there
was nothing but godlike wrath
