man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterious something
that called--called, waking or sleeping, at all times, for him to come.

One night he sprang from sleep with a start, eager-eyed, nostrils
quivering and scenting, his mane bristling in recurrent waves. From the
forest came the call (or one note of it, for the call was many noted),
distinct and definite as never before,--a long-drawn howl, like, yet
unlike, any noise made by husky dog. And he knew it, in the old familiar
way, as a sound heard before. He sprang through the sleeping camp and in
swift silence dashed through the woods. As he drew closer to the cry
he went more slowly, with caution in every movement, till he came to an
open place among the trees, and looking out saw, erect on haunches, with
nose pointed to the sky, a long, lean, timber wolf.

He had made no noise, yet it ceased from its howling and tried to sense
his presence. Buck stalked into the open, half crouching, body gathered
compactly together, tail straight and stiff, feet falling with unwonted
care. Every movement advertised commingled threatening and overture of
friendliness. It was the menacing truce that marks the meeting of wild
beasts that prey. But the wolf fled at sight of him. He followed, with
wild leapings, in a frenzy to overtake. He ran him into a blind channel,
in the bed of the creek where a timber jam barred the way. The wolf
whirled about, pivoting on his hind legs after the fashion of Joe and
of all cornered husky dogs, snarling and bristling, clipping his teeth
together in a continuous and rapid succession of snaps.

Buck did not attack, but circled him about and hedged him in with
friendly advances. The wolf was suspicious and afraid; for Buck made
three of him in weight, while his head barely reached Buck's shoulder.
Watching his chance, he darted away, and the chase was resumed. Time
and again he was cornered, and the thing repeated, though he was in poor
condition, or Buck could not so easily have overtaken him. He would run
till Buck's head was even with his flank, when he would whirl around at
bay, only to dash away again at the first opportunity.

But in the end Buck's pertinacity was rewarded; for the wolf, finding
that no harm was intended, finally sniffed noses with him. Then they
became friendly, and played about in the nervous, half-coy way with
which fierce beasts belie their fierceness. After some time of this the
wolf started off at an easy lope in a m