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  2. Info Full Time Job: Account Executive at Trigon Sports. Hobby: PA Announcer for The University of Memphis Tigers Men’s Basketball Team and Football Team.

Directed by=Jacob Hamilton. Release year=2019. Kevin Durant. . Biography, Documentary. Jump Shot: The Kenny Sailors Story Watch Full lengths.


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This video pissed me off so I wrote an essay. naismith became an American citizen in 1925, 34 years after he invented the game. At least 10 of the students in the game were university students from Quebec. the idea that baseball was invented in the US is also a myth based off a 1838 baseball game in beachville, Ontario. This is agreed upon by John Thorne, the official historian for MLB. Finally, American football originated from two games between harvard university and Canadian McGill university in 1874. the first game was played using harvard's rules, which involved a round ball and was more like soccer. the second game was played using McGill's rules which used an oval ball. the Canadian rules introduced ' downs' and tackling to the game as well. Americans tend to cite a game that occurred a year later between harvard and yale as the start of American football, though the game was played using the Canadian rules. so there, Canada invented all your sports.

Basketball was invented by a canadian.
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Lol. This video was made to be purposely provocative in an effort to strip Canada of any credit for the development of the game. No wonder you only have 5k subscribes. You have zero credibility. Nice try. Tucker Carlson called. He wants the page you ripped out of his book back.
He got the idea from the aztecs play tradition.

The inventor is a Canadian but it was invented in US.


It was invented by a Canadian Next time before posting something, do ur research. Who are the 32 dislikes... Jump Shot: The Kenny Sailors Story Watch Full lengthy. *Dirk Nowitzki. James Naismith was a Canadian and the first nba game was in Toronto between the Toronto huskies v the ny knicks. 1 win & 1 nomination. See more awards » Edit Storyline Jump Shot uncovers the inspiring true story of Kenny Sailors, the proclaimed developer of the modern day jump shot in basketball. He defined the game, but only now is he ready to share his thoughts on why the game never defined him. Plot Summary | Plot Synopsis Details Release Date: 2 April 2020 (USA) See more » Also Known As: Jump Shot: The Kenny Sailors Story Company Credits Technical Specs See full technical specs ».

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Ti e1 ba bfng g e1 bb 8di n c6 a1i hoang d c3 a3 free online for sale. Tài liệu Truyện ngắn tiếng Anh: The Call of the Wild doc Danh mục: Kỹ năng đọc tiếng Anh... left the Yukon three years later without any gold, but with the idea for a good story. This was The Call of the Wild. Two of his other books about the cold north are White Fang and The Son of the... heard the noise of Perrault's club and the cry of a dog. The camp was suddenly full of strange, thin dogs. There were eighty or a hundred of them, and they wanted food. The two men hit the... after day, the weather got colder. Then they arrived in Alaska, and Francois took the dogs off the boat. Buck walked on snow for the first time in his apter 2 The Laws of the Wild Buck's... 11 847 2 Tài liệu Truyện ngắn tiếng Anh: Call of the wild pdf Kỹ năng đọc tiếng Anh... the Yukon three years later without any gold, but with the idea for a good story. Buck walked on snow for the first time in his apter 2 The Laws of the Wild Buck's... 10 546 The call of the wild Kỹ năng đọc tiếng Anh... noises in his throat. He was The call of the wild Oxford Bookworms Library Stage 3 Jack London The call of the wild 1 To the north Buck did not read the newspapers. He did not know... and watched the coast get further and further away. They had seen the warm south for the last time. Perrault took Buck and Curly down to the bottom of the ship. There they met another man,... led the other dogs well. The call of the wild Oxford Bookworms Library Stage 3 very frightened of the dark, and looked around him all the time, holding a heavy stone in his hand. He wore the... 25 769 1 The call of the wild potx Cao đẳng - Đại học... *@;4', '! , ! 1<“Thorton alone held him. The rest of mankind was nothing”“He had killed man, the noblest game of all, and he had killed in the face of law of club and fang” -0'-$1-'! '-2... $'! $$5C2 */' ! /Tamed Wild +>>> *1;! '! ! <;... 20 413 0 LUYỆN ĐỌC TIẾNG ANH QUA CÁC TÁC PHẨM VĂN HỌC –CALL OF THE WILD JACK LONDON CHAPTER 1(P1) ppt Kỹ năng đọc tiếng Anh... rolled them in the grass, and guarded their footsteps through wild adventures down to the fountain in the stable yard, and even beyond, where the paddocks were, and the berry patches. Among the... were other dogs, There could not but be other dogs on so vast a place, but they did not count. They came and went, resided in the populous kennels, or lived obscurely in the recesses of the house... after the fashion of Toots, the Japanese pug, or Ysabel, the Mexican hairless, - strange creatures that rarely put nose out of doors or set foot to ground. On the other hand, there were the fox... 8 446 LUYỆN ĐỌC TIẾNG ANH QUA CÁC TÁC PHẨM VĂN HỌC –CALL OF THE WILD JACK LONDON CHAPTER 1(P2) doc Kỹ năng đọc tiếng Anh... one of the men on the wall cried enthusiastically. "Druther break cayuses any day, and twice on Sundays, " was the reply of the driver, as he climbed on the wagon and started the... kinds of fashions to the man in the red sweater. And at such times that money passed between them the strangers took one or more of the dogs away with them. Buck wondered where they went, for they... "Sure, " the man replied, driving the hatchet into the crate for a pry. There was an instantaneous scattering of the four men who had carried it in, and from safe perches on top the wall they... 9 419 LUYỆN ĐỌC TIẾNG ANH QUA CÁC TÁC PHẨM VĂN HỌC –CALL OF THE WILD JACK LONDON CHAPTER 2 ppsx Kỹ năng đọc tiếng Anh... surge of fear swept through him - the fear of the wild thing for the trap. It was a token CALL OF THE WILD JACK LONDON CHAPTER 2 II. The Law of Club and Fang Buck's first day on the... into the huge camp at the head of Lake Bennett, where thousands of goldseekers were building boats against the break-up of the ice in the spring. Buck made his hole in the snow and slept the... again. The domesticated generations fell from him. In vague ways he remembered back to the youth of the breed, to the time the wild dogs ranged in packs through the primeval forest and killed their... 13 483 LUYỆN ĐỌC TIẾNG ANH QUA CÁC TÁC PHẨM VĂN HỌC –CALL OF THE WILD JACK LONDON CHAPTER 3 (P1) ppt Kỹ năng đọc tiếng Anh... of the rope, and night found them back on the river with a quarter of a mile to the day's credit. By the time they made the Hootalinqua and good ice, Buck was played out. The rest of... through the savage circle and fled away over the ice. Pike and Dub followed on his heels, with the rest of the team behind. As Buck drew himself together to spring after them, out of the tail of... himself to the shock of Spitz's charge, then joined the flight out on the lake. Later, the nine team-dogs gathered together and sought shelter in the forest. Though unpursued, they were... 349 LUYỆN ĐỌC TIẾNG ANH QUA CÁC TÁC PHẨM VĂN HỌC –CALL OF THE WILD JACK LONDON CHAPTER 3 (P2) doc Kỹ năng đọc tiếng Anh... pride of the trail and trace - that pride which holds dogs in the toil to the last gasp, which lures them to die joyfully in the harness, and breaks their hearts if they are cut out of the harness.... but the rest of the team went from bad to worse. Things no longer went right. the articulate travail of existence. It was an old song, old as the breed itself - one of the first songs of the... ages of fire and roof to the raw beginnings of life in the howling ages. Seven days from the time they pulled into Dawson, they dropped down the steep bank by the Barracks to the Yukon Trail,... 321 LUYỆN ĐỌC TIẾNG ANH QUA CÁC TÁC PHẨM VĂN HỌC –CALL OF THE WILD JACK LONDON CHAPTER 4 pptx Kỹ năng đọc tiếng Anh... behind the sled at the end of a rope. And on the last night of the second week they topped White Pass and dropped down the sea slope with the lights of Skaguay and of the shipping at their... could hear the crashing of their bodies through the undergrowth, and the noises they made in the night. And dreaming there by the Yukon bank, with lazy eyes blinking at the fire, these sounds... alongside in the soft snow, where the going was most difficult, till exhausted. Then he fell, and lay where he fell, howling lugubriously as the long train of sleds churned by. CALL OF THE WILD JACK... 354 Tài liệu THE FUTURE OF THE WILD Radical Conservation for a Crowded World ppt Cao đẳng - Đại học... alone in their discomfort in dealing with questions of scale. Economists are far worse: the vast majority of economists never evenbother to ask the question of the proper scale of the economy... copy of The Theory of Island Biogeography, but he saw the significance sooner than nearly allother ecologists. In 1978, by-then Professor Soulé and one of his graduatestudents at University of... forest in the eastern United States. The Cathedral Pines preservein Connecticut contained about twenty-five acres of old-growth pine, one of the last examples of that type of forest in the region.... 292 450 Tài liệu Báo cáo khoa học: "Demonstration of the UAM CorpusTool for text and image annotation" docx Báo cáo khoa học... tasks is included within the software. 2 The Project Window In the majority of cases, the annotator is interested in annotating a range of texts, not just single texts. Additionally, in most... corpus. 1 Introduction In the last 20 years, a number of tools have been developed to facilitate the human annotation of text. These have been necessary where software for automatic annotation... annotation scheme has been built into the software, or the software has been limited in that they allow only certain types of annotation to take place. A small number of systems have however been developed... 4 402 0.

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Truyen hay giong doc truyen cam nghe nhieu van muon nghe. Tiếng gọi nơi Hoang dã free online slot. TỪ VỰNG BAND 7. 5+ CHỦ ĐỀ WEATHER: Cùng thầy học những từ vựng hay miêu tả các trạng thái khác nhau của thời tiết nhé các em A. Các tính từ để miêu tả thời... tiết mùa hè Sweltering: Very hot in a way that makes people feel uncomfortable The weather forecast predicts that it will be sweltering tomorrow Boiling hot: Very hot In 2017, Viet Nam experienced so boiling hot weather that people didn’t need fire to fry eggs ====================================== B. Các tính từ để miêu tả thời tiết mùa thu Windy: with a lot of wind E. g: It is windy today, so I feel in a good mood. Blustery: of weather with strong winds E. g: It is cold and blustery, so fewer people go out. ==================================== C. Các tính từ để miêu tả thời tiết mùa đông Brisk: of the wind very cold but pleasantly fresh (gió mát mẻ, trong lành) E. g: A brisk wind will make the winter less unpleasant. Crisps: (of the air or the weather) pleasantly dry and cold (thời tiết hay bầu không khí lạnh và khô nhưng cảm giác thoải mái) E. g: The air was crisp and clear and the sky was blue. Biting: (of the wind) very cold and unpleasant Tương tự với tính từ “brisk” đây là tính từ miêu tả thời tiết có gió lạnh, nhưng nó gây cảm giác không thoải mái E. g: The biting January wind drove the snow before it. Freezing cold: very cold (informal) Tính từ miêu tả thời tiết rất lạnh, các bạn cần lưu ý đây là một từ “informal” nên nó sẽ chỉ được sử dụng trong văn nói thôi nhé! E. g: The weather of London is freezing cold at this time. Bitterly cold: very cold and unpleasant Tính từ này cũng để miêu tả thời tiết rất lạnh, nhưng khác với “freezing cold” tính từ này còn miêu tả về cảm giác khó chịu của bạn vì thời tiết quá lạnh. E. g: It’s bitterly cold in the winter. ===================================== D. Các tính từ để miêu tả thời tiết mùa xuân Breezy: with the wind blowing quite strongly Tính từ miêu tả thời tiết có gió thổi khá lớn E. g: It was a bright and breezy day. Fresh: pleasantly clean, pure or cool/ (of the wind) quite strong and cold Tính từ miêu tả bầu không khí trong lành, và mát mẻ. Hay một cách dùng khác để miêu tả gió thổi khá mạnh và lạnh. g: The winds are likely to get fresher towards the end of the day. Changeable: the weather that often changes Đây là tính từ dùng để miêu tả về thời tiết hay thay đổi, có thể là lúc nắng lúc mưa. Tính từ này là một tính từ có thể nói là khá phù hợp để miêu tả về thời tiết của Việt Nam vào cuối mùa xuân: sáng nắng, chiều mát, tối lại lạnh. g: The weather is very changeable at the end of spring. ======================================= E. Các động từ miêu tả về thời tiết/ mùa trong năm To get caught in the rain: to be outside when it starts raining suddenly, before you can get inside or get an umbrella. Động từ để chỉ rằng bạn đang ở ngoài thì trời đột nhiên mưa, động từ này các bạn có thể dùng làm dẫn chứng cho việc bạn nói rằng thời tiết mùa này hay thay đổi. g: It’s very changeable at this time. I go out when it’s sunny, but after that I get caught in the rain. To get drenched: to be very wet Động từ để chỉ ai đó bị ẩm ướt, hay ướt sũng vì bị dính nước mưa. g: We were caught in the storm and got drenched to the skin. To pour down: rain heavily Động từ chỉ mưa quá to hay mưa nặng hạt, mưa to như trút nước E. g: When we were going shopping to buy some pairs of new trousers, it started to pour down. To come out (the sun): when the sun appears out of a cloudy sky Động từ miêu tả mặt trời xuất hiện sau khi bầu trời có nhiều mây. Các bạn lưu ý muốn sử dụng động từ này, các bạn phải luôn sử dụng nó đi kèm với danh từ “the sun”. g: After a heavy rain, the sun came out and slowly the water level went down. To be below freezing: below zero degree Celsius Động từ để miêu tả nhiệt độ thời tiết dưới 0 độ C E. g: Viet Nam has never experienced the weather to be below freezing in the history. To dress up warm: to wear warm clothes to protect yourself against wintry conditions Động từ để chỉ mặc quần áo đủ ấm để bảo vệ bản thân khi thời tiết lạnh. g: When I prepare for a trip, I often listen to the weather forecast to make sure that I will dress up warm. To be rained off: to be cancelled due to poor weather Động từ miêu tả về việc hủy một việc gì đấy ví dụ như 1 chuyến đi chơi, 1 buổi cắm trại, … do thời tiết xấu. g: When you want to organise an outside event or activity, you need to know about the weather in case your plan is rained off. =================================== H Các danh từ miêu tả về thời tiết/mùa trong năm Weather forecast: TV/ radio programme that predicts weather conditions. Đây là một danh từ để chỉ một chương trình dự báo thời tiết trên tivi, hay trên báo đài. g: The weather forecast said that it’s going to rain tomorrow. Long – range forecast: The weather forecast for several days or weeks ahead Một chương trình dự bão thời tiết cho nhiều ngày hay nhiều tuần. g: It’s very useful for farmers to watch long – range forecast so that they can avoid extreme weather conditions. Mild winter: A winter that is not particularly cold Một danh từ miêu tả một mùa đông không lạnh. g: In 2015, Viet Nam had a mild winter that was useful for people’s work. Mild climate: a climate without extreme weather conditions Một danh từ để miêu tả thời tiết rất thuận lợi, không có điều kiện thời tiết xấu như mưa to đến lũ lụt, hay nắng đến hạn hán. g: In the history, many countries had mild climates, but now they have changed a lot due to climate change, and global warming. Thick fog: a dense fog that makes visibility very poor Danh từ để chỉ sương dày đến nỗi rất khó để nhìn E. g: There’s often a thick fog every morning in the winter. A blanket of snow: a complete covering of snow Danh từ để chỉ một nơi bị bao trùm hoàn toàn là tuyết E. g: In the winter, Korea has a blanket of snow that attracts a lot of visitors. Tropical storm: a storm typical that finds in a tropical weather Danh từ để chỉ một loại cơn bão có trong điều kiện thời tiết nhiệt đới E. g: There is no tropical storm activity for this region. A flash flood: a sudden flood Danh từ chỉ một trận lũ đột ngột xảy ra mà không có dấu hiệu báo trước E. g: When I have just gone out to meet my friends, there is a heavy rain that causes a flash flood. Heavy rain: intense rainfall Danh từ chỉ trận mưa lớn, tương đương với idioms “rain cats and dogs” hay bằng từ “torrential rain” E. g: People in Ha Noi are expecting a heavy rain to release the very hot weather that has gone up to 42 degree Celsius. A change in the weather: when the weather conditions change Danh từ để chỉ sự thay đổi thời tiết E. g: The Ha Noi had been just enjoying wonderful cool days, but there is a change in the weather today. It’s suddenly boiling hot that the temperature is up to 42 degree Celsius. Clear blue sky: a sky without clouds Danh từ để chỉ bầu trời trong xanh, không có một bóng mây E. g: We always see a clear blue sky in the autumn. Not a cloud in the sky: see clear blue skies above Danh từ để chỉ bầu trời trong xanh không có mây, tương tự với nghĩa của từ “clear blue sky” E. g: I am always expecting to be able to enjoy lovely weather conditions that there is not a cloud in the sky. A drop of rain: a little bit rain Danh từ để chỉ trời hơi có mưa, mưa nhỏ giọt E. g: A drop of rain is very good for gardeners because they will not have to water their plants in a regular basis. A cold spell: a short period of cold weather Danh từ để chỉ một thời kỳ ngắn của thời tiết lạnh E. g: If I can enjoy a cold spell in the middle of summer, it’s really lucky for me. A sunny spell: a short period of sunny weather Danh từ để chỉ một thời kỳ ngắn của thời tiết có nắng E. g: In the winter, people can sometimes enjoy a sunny spell that makes them comfortable Một kết luận nho nhỏ sau 2 từ “cold spell” và “sunny spell” đó là để miêu tả một thời kỳ ngắn của thời tiết nắng, lạnh, mưa, có gió… các bạn chỉ cần cho các tính từ tương tự với nghĩa các bạn muốn miêu tả rồi cộng thêm với từ “spell” nữa là xong. g: A windy spell: Thời kỳ ngắn có gió A stormy spell: Thời kỳ ngắn có bão A snowy spell: Thời kỳ ngắn có tuyết A heatwave: a period of very hot weather Danh từ để chỉ thời kỳ mà thời tiết cực kỳ nóng E. g: The Ha Noi had experienced the heatwave during 5 days that made the price of air conditioners very expensive. CREDIT:ETRAIN =============================================== LỊCH KHAI GIẢNG CÁC KHOÁ IELTS THÁNG 7/8/9 -2019 -Học thử miễn phí. Các bạn cảm thấy khoá học phù hợp mới phải đóng học phí, không phải đóng ngay. Học thử xong có ngay lớp cho các bạn, các bạn không lo mất tiền oan uống -Học viên học yếu hơn, được kèm cặp riêng cho đến khi nào hiểu và làm được bài mới thôi, không tính thêm phí - Tặng thêm 60h - 80h chữa bài, giảng bài hoàn toàn miễn phí dựa trên lỗi sai của các bạn, tiết kiệm ít nhất 4 triệu đồng cho các bạn - Sĩ số học viên chỉ từ 7 – 15 bạn ( lớp offline), 7 - 10 ( Lớp online). Lớp online dạy trực tiếp tương tác như lớp offline, chứ ko phải quay sẵn clip, có đánh giá kiểm tra sự tiến bộ, tương tác với giáo viên như lớp offline -Tặng Bộ bài mẫu phân loại theo chủ đề, phân tích ngữ pháp - từ vưng - ideas trị giá 400k -Tặng bộ đề nghe Intensive, khó ngang bộ Cambrige trị giá 200. 000 -Tặng Lộ trình học IELTS 2019 – 2020 trị giá 600. 000 - Hỗ trợ tham gia câu lạc bộ speaking để tăng cường phản xạ CAM KẾT: GIÁO VIÊN DẠY KHÔNG NHIỆT TÌNH, KHÔNG HIỆU QUẢ, HOÀN TRẢ LẠI HỌC PHÍ CHO HỌC VIÊN CAM KẾT TIẾN BỘ RÕ RỆT QUA CÁC BUỔI HỌC. Xem nhận xét tại đây: ========================================== CÁC KHOÁ HỌC ONLINE VÀ OFFLINE oá học PRE IELTS, dành cho các bạn mất gốc, yếu nền tảng, 32 buổi chính + 60 h giảng bài chữa bài miễn phí ( tiết kiệm tương đương 1 khoá học ở nơi khác), học phí 4 triệu 600k. Đầu ra 4. 0 - 4. 5 Thời gian học: Tối 3-5/ Tối 3- 6/ Tối 3 – 7/ Tối 2-6/4-6, từ 16h – 18h hoặc Từ 19h đến 21h LINK ĐĂNG KÝ: oá học BASIC IELTS, dành cho các bạn đang ở mức trung bình, 32 buổi chính + 60 h giảng bài chữa bài miễn phí ( tiết kiệm tương đương 1 khoá học ở nơi khác), học phí 4 triệu 600k. Đầu ra khoá này: 4. 5- 5. 5 Thời gian học: Tối 3-5/ Tối 3- 6/ Tối 3 – 7/ Tối 2-6/4-6, từ 16h – 18h hoặc Từ 19h đến 21h LINK ĐĂNG KÝ: III. Khoá học Intermediate IELTS, dành cho các bạn đang ở mức trung bình khá trở lên, 32 buổi chính + 60 h giảng bài, chữa bài miễn phí ( tiết kiệm học phí tương đương 1 khoá học ở nơi khác) Học phí 4 triệu 600k. Đầu ra khoá này 5. 5 - 6. 5 Thời gian học: Tối 3-5/ Tối 3- 6/ Tối 3 – 7/ Tối 2-6/4-6, từ 16h – 18h hoặc Từ 19h đến 21h LINK ĐĂNG KÝ: IV. Khoá học Advanced IELTS, dành cho các bạn chắc kiến thức nền tảng, đã thi IELTS đạt từ 6. 5, 35 buổi. Đầu ra 7. 0 +. Học phí: 7 triệu Thời gian học: Tối 3-5/ Tối 3- 6/ Tối 3 – 7/ Tối 2-6/4-6, từ 16h – 18h hoặc Từ 19h đến 21h LINK ĐĂNG KÝ: V. Khoá học IELTS SPEAKING và Writing chuyên sâu. Mục tiêu 5. 5 – 6. 5. 30 buổi chính + 20 h giảng bài chữa bài miễn phí. Học phí 4 triệu 600k LINK ĐĂNG KÝ: Ngoài ra, Hung Hanu nhận dạy kèm 1:1 và dạy kèm 1:2 dành cho các bạn có nhu cầu. Học phí thoả thuận giữa giáo viên và học viên. Giờ học do người học tự chọn ============================================

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Oppa, phim xàm quá nha. Trời, cái idea hoán đổi thân xác thấy quài vậy. Còn idea nào ko? Nếu Làm đc phim nàng tiên cá thì hay biết mấy. The Call of the Wild, by Jack London The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Call of the Wild, by Jack London This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Title: The Call of the Wild Author: Jack London Release Date: July 1, 2008 [EBook #215] Last updated: August 30, 2019 Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CALL OF THE WILD *** Produced by Ryan, Kirstin, Linda and Rick Trapp, and David Widger by Jack London Contents Chapter I. Into the Primitive Chapter II. The Law of Club and Fang Chapter III. The Dominant Primordial Beast Chapter IV. Who Has Won to Mastership Chapter V. The Toil of Trace Chapter VI. For the Love of a Man Chapter VII. The Sounding of the Call “Old longings nomadic leap, Chafing at custom’s chain; Again from its brumal sleep Wakens the ferine strain. ” Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tide-water dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego. Because men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal, and because steamship and transportation companies were booming the find, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted dogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by which to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the frost. Buck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley. Judge Miller’s place, it was called. It stood back from the road, half hidden among the trees, through which glimpses could be caught of the wide cool veranda that ran around its four sides. The house was approached by gravelled driveways which wound about through wide-spreading lawns and under the interlacing boughs of tall poplars. At the rear things were on even a more spacious scale than at the front. There were great stables, where a dozen grooms and boys held forth, rows of vine-clad servants’ cottages, an endless and orderly array of outhouses, long grape arbors, green pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then there was the pumping plant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where Judge Miller’s boys took their morning plunge and kept cool in the hot afternoon. And over this great demesne Buck ruled. Here he was born, and here he had lived the four years of his life. It was true, there were other dogs, There could not but be other dogs on so vast a place, but they did not count. They came and went, resided in the populous kennels, or lived obscurely in the recesses of the house after the fashion of Toots, the Japanese pug, or Ysabel, the Mexican hairless, —strange creatures that rarely put nose out of doors or set foot to ground. On the other hand, there were the fox terriers, a score of them at least, who yelped fearful promises at Toots and Ysabel looking out of the windows at them and protected by a legion of housemaids armed with brooms and mops. But Buck was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The whole realm was his. He plunged into the swimming tank or went hunting with the Judge’s sons; he escorted Mollie and Alice, the Judge’s daughters, on long twilight or early morning rambles; on wintry nights he lay at the Judge’s feet before the roaring library fire; he carried the Judge’s grandsons on his back, or rolled them in the grass, and guarded their footsteps through wild adventures down to the fountain in the stable yard, and even beyond, where the paddocks were, and the berry patches. Among the terriers he stalked imperiously, and Toots and Ysabel he utterly ignored, for he was king, —king over all creeping, crawling, flying things of Judge Miller’s place, humans included. His father, Elmo, a huge St. Bernard, had been the Judge’s inseparable companion, and Buck bid fair to follow in the way of his father. He was not so large, —he weighed only one hundred and forty pounds, —for his mother, Shep, had been a Scotch shepherd dog. Nevertheless, one hundred and forty pounds, to which was added the dignity that comes of good living and universal respect, enabled him to carry himself in right royal fashion. During the four years since his puppyhood he had lived the life of a sated aristocrat; he had a fine pride in himself, was even a trifle egotistical, as country gentlemen sometimes become because of their insular situation. But he had saved himself by not becoming a mere pampered house-dog. Hunting and kindred outdoor delights had kept down the fat and hardened his muscles; and to him, as to the cold-tubbing races, the love of water had been a tonic and a health preserver. And this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, when the Klondike strike dragged men from all the world into the frozen North. But Buck did not read the newspapers, and he did not know that Manuel, one of the gardener’s helpers, was an undesirable acquaintance. Manuel had one besetting sin. He loved to play Chinese lottery. Also, in his gambling, he had one besetting weakness—faith in a system; and this made his damnation certain. For to play a system requires money, while the wages of a gardener’s helper do not lap over the needs of a wife and numerous progeny. The Judge was at a meeting of the Raisin Growers’ Association, and the boys were busy organizing an athletic club, on the memorable night of Manuel’s treachery. No one saw him and Buck go off through the orchard on what Buck imagined was merely a stroll. And with the exception of a solitary man, no one saw them arrive at the little flag station known as College Park. This man talked with Manuel, and money chinked between them. “You might wrap up the goods before you deliver ’m, ” the stranger said gruffly, and Manuel doubled a piece of stout rope around Buck’s neck under the collar. “Twist it, an’ you’ll choke ’m plentee, ” said Manuel, and the stranger grunted a ready affirmative. Buck had accepted the rope with quiet dignity. To be sure, it was an unwonted performance: but he had learned to trust in men he knew, and to give them credit for a wisdom that outreached his own. But when the ends of the rope were placed in the stranger’s hands, he growled menacingly. He had merely intimated his displeasure, in his pride believing that to intimate was to command. But to his surprise the rope tightened around his neck, shutting off his breath. In quick rage he sprang at the man, who met him halfway, grappled him close by the throat, and with a deft twist threw him over on his back. Then the rope tightened mercilessly, while Buck struggled in a fury, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his great chest panting futilely. Never in all his life had he been so vilely treated, and never in all his life had he been so angry. But his strength ebbed, his eyes glazed, and he knew nothing when the train was flagged and the two men threw him into the baggage car. The next he knew, he was dimly aware that his tongue was hurting and that he was being jolted along in some kind of a conveyance. The hoarse shriek of a locomotive whistling a crossing told him where he was. He had travelled too often with the Judge not to know the sensation of riding in a baggage car. He opened his eyes, and into them came the unbridled anger of a kidnapped king. The man sprang for his throat, but Buck was too quick for him. His jaws closed on the hand, nor did they relax till his senses were choked out of him once more. “Yep, has fits, ” the man said, hiding his mangled hand from the baggageman, who had been attracted by the sounds of struggle. “I’m takin’ ’m up for the boss to ’Frisco. A crack dog-doctor there thinks that he can cure ’m. ” Concerning that night’s ride, the man spoke most eloquently for himself, in a little shed back of a saloon on the San Francisco water front. “All I get is fifty for it, ” he grumbled; “an’ I wouldn’t do it over for a thousand, cold cash. ” His hand was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief, and the right trouser leg was ripped from knee to ankle. “How much did the other mug get? ” the saloon-keeper demanded. “A hundred, ” was the reply. “Wouldn’t take a sou less, so help me. ” “That makes a hundred and fifty, ” the saloon-keeper calculated; “and he’s worth it, or I’m a squarehead. ” The kidnapper undid the bloody wrappings and looked at his lacerated hand. “If I don’t get the hydrophoby—” “It’ll be because you was born to hang, ” laughed the saloon-keeper. “Here, lend me a hand before you pull your freight, ” he added. Dazed, suffering intolerable pain from throat and tongue, with the life half throttled out of him, Buck attempted to face his tormentors. But he was thrown down and choked repeatedly, till they succeeded in filing the heavy brass collar from off his neck. Then the rope was removed, and he was flung into a cagelike crate. There he lay for the remainder of the weary night, nursing his wrath and wounded pride. He could not understand what it all meant. What did they want with him, these strange men? Why were they keeping him pent up in this narrow crate? He did not know why, but he felt oppressed by the vague sense of impending calamity. Several times during the night he sprang to his feet when the shed door rattled open, expecting to see the Judge, or the boys at least. But each time it was the bulging face of the saloon-keeper that peered in at him by the sickly light of a tallow candle. And each time the joyful bark that trembled in Buck’s throat was twisted into a savage growl. But the saloon-keeper let him alone, and in the morning four men entered and picked up the crate. More tormentors, Buck decided, for they were evil-looking creatures, ragged and unkempt; and he stormed and raged at them through the bars. They only laughed and poked sticks at him, which he promptly assailed with his teeth till he realized that that was what they wanted. Whereupon he lay down sullenly and allowed the crate to be lifted into a wagon. Then he, and the crate in which he was imprisoned, began a passage through many hands. Clerks in the express office took charge of him; he was carted about in another wagon; a truck carried him, with an assortment of boxes and parcels, upon a ferry steamer; he was trucked off the steamer into a great railway depot, and finally he was deposited in an express car. For two days and nights this express car was dragged along at the tail of shrieking locomotives; and for two days and nights Buck neither ate nor drank. In his anger he had met the first advances of the express messengers with growls, and they had retaliated by teasing him. When he flung himself against the bars, quivering and frothing, they laughed at him and taunted him. They growled and barked like detestable dogs, mewed, and flapped their arms and crowed. It was all very silly, he knew; but therefore the more outrage to his dignity, and his anger waxed and waxed. He did not mind the hunger so much, but the lack of water caused him severe suffering and fanned his wrath to fever-pitch. For that matter, high-strung and finely sensitive, the ill treatment had flung him into a fever, which was fed by the inflammation of his parched and swollen throat and tongue. He was glad for one thing: the rope was off his neck. That had given them an unfair advantage; but now that it was off, he would show them. They would never get another rope around his neck. Upon that he was resolved. For two days and nights he neither ate nor drank, and during those two days and nights of torment, he accumulated a fund of wrath that boded ill for whoever first fell foul of him. His eyes turned blood-shot, and he was metamorphosed into a raging fiend. So changed was he that the Judge himself would not have recognized him; and the express messengers breathed with relief when they bundled him off the train at Seattle. Four men gingerly carried the crate from the wagon into a small, high-walled back yard. A stout man, with a red sweater that sagged generously at the neck, came out and signed the book for the driver. That was the man, Buck divined, the next tormentor, and he hurled himself savagely against the bars. The man smiled grimly, and brought a hatchet and a club. “You ain’t going to take him out now? ” the driver asked. “Sure, ” the man replied, driving the hatchet into the crate for a pry. There was an instantaneous scattering of the four men who had carried it in, and from safe perches on top the wall they prepared to watch the performance. Buck rushed at the splintering wood, sinking his teeth into it, surging and wrestling with it. Wherever the hatchet fell on the outside, he was there on the inside, snarling and growling, as furiously anxious to get out as the man in the red sweater was calmly intent on getting him out. “Now, you red-eyed devil, ” he said, when he had made an opening sufficient for the passage of Buck’s body. At the same time he dropped the hatchet and shifted the club to his right hand. And Buck was truly a red-eyed devil, as he drew himself together for the spring, hair bristling, mouth foaming, a mad glitter in his blood-shot eyes. Straight at the man he launched his one hundred and forty pounds of fury, surcharged with the pent passion of two days and nights. In mid air, just as his jaws were about to close on the man, he received a shock that checked his body and brought his teeth together with an agonizing clip. He whirled over, fetching the ground on his back and side. He had never been struck by a club in his life, and did not understand. With a snarl that was part bark and more scream he was again on his feet and launched into the air. And again the shock came and he was brought crushingly to the ground. This time he was aware that it was the club, but his madness knew no caution. A dozen times he charged, and as often the club broke the charge and smashed him down. After a particularly fierce blow, he crawled to his feet, too dazed to rush. He staggered limply about, the blood flowing from nose and mouth and ears, his beautiful coat sprayed and flecked with bloody slaver. Then the man advanced and deliberately dealt him a frightful blow on the nose. All the pain he had endured was as nothing compared with the exquisite agony of this. With a roar that was almost lionlike in its ferocity, he again hurled himself at the man. But the man, shifting the club from right to left, coolly caught him by the under jaw, at the same time wrenching downward and backward. Buck described a complete circle in the air, and half of another, then crashed to the ground on his head and chest. For the last time he rushed. The man struck the shrewd blow he had purposely withheld for so long, and Buck crumpled up and went down, knocked utterly senseless. “He’s no slouch at dog-breakin’, that’s wot I say, ” one of the men on the wall cried enthusiastically. “Druther break cayuses any day, and twice on Sundays, ” was the reply of the driver, as he climbed on the wagon and started the horses. Buck’s senses came back to him, but not his strength. He lay where he had fallen, and from there he watched the man in the red sweater. “‘Answers to the name of Buck, ’” the man soliloquized, quoting from the saloon-keeper’s letter which had announced the consignment of the crate and contents. “Well, Buck, my boy, ” he went on in a genial voice, “we’ve had our little ruction, and the best thing we can do is to let it go at that. You’ve learned your place, and I know mine. Be a good dog and all ’ll go well and the goose hang high. Be a bad dog, and I’ll whale the stuffin’ outa you. Understand? ” As he spoke he fearlessly patted the head he had so mercilessly pounded, and though Buck’s hair involuntarily bristled at touch of the hand, he endured it without protest. When the man brought him water he drank eagerly, and later bolted a generous meal of raw meat, chunk by chunk, from the man’s hand. He was beaten (he knew that); but he was not broken. He saw, once for all, that he stood no chance against a man with a club. He had learned the lesson, and in all his after life he never forgot it. That club was a revelation. It was his introduction to the reign of primitive law, and he met the introduction halfway. The facts of life took on a fiercer aspect; and while he faced that aspect uncowed, he faced it with all the latent cunning of his nature aroused. As the days went by, other dogs came, in crates and at the ends of ropes, some docilely, and some raging and roaring as he had come; and, one and all, he watched them pass under the dominion of the man in the red sweater. Again and again, as he looked at each brutal performance, the lesson was driven home to Buck: a man with a club was a lawgiver, a master to be obeyed, though not necessarily conciliated. Of this last Buck was never guilty, though he did see beaten dogs that fawned upon the man, and wagged their tails, and licked his hand. Also he saw one dog, that would neither conciliate nor obey, finally killed in the struggle for mastery. Now and again men came, strangers, who talked excitedly, wheedlingly, and in all kinds of fashions to the man in the red sweater. And at such times that money passed between them the strangers took one or more of the dogs away with them. Buck wondered where they went, for they never came back; but the fear of the future was strong upon him, and he was glad each time when he was not selected. Yet his time came, in the end, in the form of a little weazened man who spat broken English and many strange and uncouth exclamations which Buck could not understand. “Sacredam! ” he cried, when his eyes lit upon Buck. “Dat one dam bully dog! Eh? How moch? ” “Three hundred, and a present at that, ” was the prompt reply of the man in the red sweater. “And seem’ it’s government money, you ain’t got no kick coming, eh, Perrault? ” Perrault grinned. Considering that the price of dogs had been boomed skyward by the unwonted demand, it was not an unfair sum for so fine an animal. The Canadian Government would be no loser, nor would its despatches travel the slower. Perrault knew dogs, and when he looked at Buck he knew that he was one in a thousand—“One in ten t’ousand, ” he commented mentally. Buck saw money pass between them, and was not surprised when Curly, a good-natured Newfoundland, and he were led away by the little weazened man. That was the last he saw of the man in the red sweater, and as Curly and he looked at receding Seattle from the deck of the Narwhal, it was the last he saw of the warm Southland. Curly and he were taken below by Perrault and turned over to a black-faced giant called François. Perrault was a French-Canadian, and swarthy; but François was a French-Canadian half-breed, and twice as swarthy. They were a new kind of men to Buck (of which he was destined to see many more), and while he developed no affection for them, he none the less grew honestly to respect them. He speedily learned that Perrault and François were fair men, calm and impartial in administering justice, and too wise in the way of dogs to be fooled by dogs. In the ’tween-decks of the Narwhal, Buck and Curly joined two other dogs. One of them was a big, snow-white fellow from Spitzbergen who had been brought away by a whaling captain, and who had later accompanied a Geological Survey into the Barrens. He was friendly, in a treacherous sort of way, smiling into one’s face the while he meditated some underhand trick, as, for instance, when he stole from Buck’s food at the first meal. As Buck sprang to punish him, the lash of François’s whip sang through the air, reaching the culprit first; and nothing remained to Buck but to recover the bone. That was fair of François, he decided, and the half-breed began his rise in Buck’s estimation. The other dog made no advances, nor received any; also, he did not attempt to steal from the newcomers. He was a gloomy, morose fellow, and he showed Curly plainly that all he desired was to be left alone, and further, that there would be trouble if he were not left alone. “Dave” he was called, and he ate and slept, or yawned between times, and took interest in nothing, not even when the Narwhal crossed Queen Charlotte Sound and rolled and pitched and bucked like a thing possessed. When Buck and Curly grew excited, half wild with fear, he raised his head as though annoyed, favored them with an incurious glance, yawned, and went to sleep again. Day and night the ship throbbed to the tireless pulse of the propeller, and though one day was very like another, it was apparent to Buck that the weather was steadily growing colder. At last, one morning, the propeller was quiet, and the Narwhal was pervaded with an atmosphere of excitement. He felt it, as did the other dogs, and knew that a change was at hand. François leashed them and brought them on deck. At the first step upon the cold surface, Buck’s feet sank into a white mushy something very like mud. He sprang back with a snort. More of this white stuff was falling through the air. He shook himself, but more of it fell upon him. He sniffed it curiously, then licked some up on his tongue. It bit like fire, and the next instant was gone. This puzzled him. He tried it again, with the same result. The onlookers laughed uproariously, and he felt ashamed, he knew not why, for it was his first snow. Buck’s first day on the Dyea beach was like a nightmare. Every hour was filled with shock and surprise. He had been suddenly jerked from the heart of civilization and flung into the heart of things primordial. No lazy, sun-kissed life was this, with nothing to do but loaf and be bored. Here was neither peace, nor rest, nor a moment’s safety. All was confusion and action, and every moment life and limb were in peril. There was imperative need to be constantly alert; for these dogs and men were not town dogs and men. They were savages, all of them, who knew no law but the law of club and fang. He had never seen dogs fight as these wolfish creatures fought, and his first experience taught him an unforgetable lesson. It is true, it was a vicarious experience, else he would not have lived to profit by it. Curly was the victim. They were camped near the log store, where she, in her friendly way, made advances to a husky dog the size of a full-grown wolf, though not half so large as she. There was no warning, only a leap in like a flash, a metallic clip of teeth, a leap out equally swift, and Curly’s face was ripped open from eye to jaw. It was the wolf manner of fighting, to strike and leap away; but there was more to it than this. Thirty or forty huskies ran to the spot and surrounded the combatants in an intent and silent circle. Buck did not comprehend that silent intentness, nor the eager way with which they were licking their chops. Curly rushed her antagonist, who struck again and leaped aside. He met her next rush with his chest, in a peculiar fashion that tumbled her off her feet. She never regained them, This was what the onlooking huskies had waited for. They closed in upon her, snarling and yelping, and she was buried, screaming with agony, beneath the bristling mass of bodies. So sudden was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw Spitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he saw François, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men with clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two minutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were clubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled snow, almost literally torn to pieces, the swart half-breed standing over her and cursing horribly. The scene often came back to Buck to trouble him in his sleep. So that was the way. No fair play. Once down, that was the end of you. Well, he would see to it that he never went down. Spitz ran out his tongue and laughed again, and from that moment Buck hated him with a bitter and deathless hatred. Before he had recovered from the shock caused by the tragic passing of Curly, he received another shock. François fastened upon him an arrangement of straps and buckles. It was a harness, such as he had seen the grooms put on the horses at home. And as he had seen horses work, so he was set to work, hauling François on a sled to the forest that fringed the valley, and returning with a load of firewood. Though his dignity was sorely hurt by thus being made a draught animal, he was too wise to rebel. He buckled down with a will and did his best, though it was all new and strange. François was stern, demanding instant obedience, and by virtue of his whip receiving instant obedience; while Dave, who was an experienced wheeler, nipped Buck’s hind quarters whenever he was in error. Spitz was the leader, likewise experienced, and while he could not always get at Buck, he growled sharp reproof now and again, or cunningly threw his weight in the traces to jerk Buck into the way he should go. Buck learned easily, and under the combined tuition of his two mates and François made remarkable progress. Ere they returned to camp he knew enough to stop at “ho, ” to go ahead at “mush, ” to swing wide on the bends, and to keep clear of the wheeler when the loaded sled shot downhill at their heels. “T’ree vair’ good dogs, ” François told Perrault. “Dat Buck, heem pool lak hell. I tich heem queek as anyt’ing. ” By afternoon, Perrault, who was in a hurry to be on the trail with his despatches, returned with two more dogs. “Billee” and “Joe” he called them, two brothers, and true huskies both. Sons of the one mother though they were, they were as different as day and night. Billee’s one fault was his excessive good nature, while Joe was the very opposite, sour and introspective, with a perpetual snarl and a malignant eye. Buck received them in comradely fashion, Dave ignored them, while Spitz proceeded to thrash first one and then the other. Billee wagged his tail appeasingly, turned to run when he saw that appeasement was of no avail, and cried (still appeasingly) when Spitz’s sharp teeth scored his flank. But no matter how Spitz circled, Joe whirled around on his heels to face him, mane bristling, ears laid back, lips writhing and snarling, jaws clipping together as fast as he could snap, and eyes diabolically gleaming—the incarnation of belligerent fear. So terrible was his appearance that Spitz was forced to forego disciplining him; but to cover his own discomfiture he turned upon the inoffensive and wailing Billee and drove him to the confines of the camp. By evening Perrault secured another dog, an old husky, long and lean and gaunt, with a battle-scarred face and a single eye which flashed a warning of prowess that commanded respect. He was called Sol-leks, which means the Angry One. Like Dave, he asked nothing, gave nothing, expected nothing; and when he marched slowly and deliberately into their midst, even Spitz left him alone. He had one peculiarity which Buck was unlucky enough to discover. He did not like to be approached on his blind side. Of this offence Buck was unwittingly guilty, and the first knowledge he had of his indiscretion was when Sol-leks whirled upon him and slashed his shoulder to the bone for three inches up and down. Forever after Buck avoided his blind side, and to the last of their comradeship had no more trouble. His only apparent ambition, like Dave’s, was to be left alone; though, as Buck was afterward to learn, each of them possessed one other and even more vital ambition. That night Buck faced the great problem of sleeping. The tent, illumined by a candle, glowed warmly in the midst of the white plain; and when he, as a matter of course, entered it, both Perrault and François bombarded him with curses and cooking utensils, till he recovered from his consternation and fled ignominiously into the outer cold. A chill wind was blowing that nipped him sharply and bit with especial venom into his wounded shoulder. He lay down on the snow and attempted to sleep, but the frost soon drove him shivering to his feet. Miserable and disconsolate, he wandered about among the many tents, only to find that one place was as cold as another. Here and there savage dogs rushed upon him, but he bristled his neck-hair and snarled (for he was learning fast), and they let him go his way unmolested. Finally an idea came to him. He would return and see how his own team-mates were making out. To his astonishment, they had disappeared. Again he wandered about through the great camp, looking for them, and again he returned. Were they in the tent? No, that could not be, else he would not have been driven out. Then where could they possibly be? With drooping tail and shivering body, very forlorn indeed, he aimlessly circled the tent. Suddenly the snow gave way beneath his fore legs and he sank down. Something wriggled under his feet. He sprang back, bristling and snarling, fearful of the unseen and unknown. But a friendly little yelp reassured him, and he went back to investigate. A whiff of warm air ascended to his nostrils, and there, curled up under the snow in a snug ball, lay Billee. He whined placatingly, squirmed and wriggled to show his good will and intentions, and even ventured, as a bribe for peace, to lick Buck’s face with his warm wet tongue. Another lesson. So that was the way they did it, eh? Buck confidently selected a spot, and with much fuss and waste effort proceeded to dig a hole for himself. In a trice the heat from his body filled the confined space and he was asleep. The day had been long and arduous, and he slept soundly and comfortably, though he growled and barked and wrestled with bad dreams. Nor did he open his eyes till roused by the noises of the waking camp. At first he did not know where he was. It had snowed during the night and he was completely buried. The snow walls pressed him on every side, and a great surge of fear swept through him—the fear of the wild thing for the trap. It was a token that he was harking back through his own life to the lives of his forebears; for he was a civilized dog, an unduly civilized dog, and of his own experience knew no trap and so could not of himself fear it. The muscles of his whole body contracted spasmodically and instinctively, the hair on his neck and shoulders stood on end, and with a ferocious snarl he bounded straight up into the blinding day, the snow flying about him in a flashing cloud. Ere he landed on his feet, he saw the white camp spread out before him and knew where he was and remembered all that had passed from the time he went for a stroll with Manuel to the hole he had dug for himself the night before. A shout from François hailed his appearance. “Wot I say? ” the dog-driver cried to Perrault. “Dat Buck for sure learn queek as Perrault nodded gravely. As courier for the Canadian Government, bearing important despatches, he was anxious to secure the best dogs, and he was particularly gladdened by the possession of Buck. Three more huskies were added to the team inside an hour, making a total of nine, and before another quarter of an hour had passed they were in harness and swinging up the trail toward the Dyea Cañon. Buck was glad to be gone, and though the work was hard he found he did not particularly despise it. He was surprised at the eagerness which animated the whole team and which was communicated to him; but still more surprising was the change wrought in Dave and Sol-leks. They were new dogs, utterly transformed by the harness. All passiveness and unconcern had dropped from them. They were alert and active, anxious that the work should go well, and fiercely irritable with whatever, by delay or confusion, retarded that work. The toil of the traces seemed the supreme expression of their being, and all that they lived for and the only thing in which they took delight. Dave was wheeler or sled dog, pulling in front of him was Buck, then came Sol-leks; the rest of the team was strung out ahead, single file, to the leader, which position was filled by Spitz. Buck had been purposely placed between Dave and Sol-leks so that he might receive instruction. Apt scholar that he was, they were equally apt teachers, never allowing him to linger long in error, and enforcing their teaching with their sharp teeth. Dave was fair and very wise. He never nipped Buck without cause, and he never failed to nip him when he stood in need of it. As François’s whip backed him up, Buck found it to be cheaper to mend his ways than to retaliate. Once, during a brief halt, when he got tangled in the traces and delayed the start, both Dave and Sol-leks flew at him and administered a sound trouncing. The resulting tangle was even worse, but Buck took good care to keep the traces clear thereafter; and ere the day was done, so well had he mastered his work, his mates about ceased nagging him. François’s whip snapped less frequently, and Perrault even honored Buck by lifting up his feet and carefully examining them. It was a hard day’s run, up the Cañon, through Sheep Camp, past the Scales and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of feet deep, and over the great Chilcoot Divide, which stands between the salt water and the fresh and guards forbiddingly the sad and lonely North. They made good time down the chain of lakes which fills the craters of extinct volcanoes, and late that night pulled into the huge camp at the head of Lake Bennett, where thousands of goldseekers were building boats against the break-up of the ice in the spring. Buck made his hole in the snow and slept the sleep of the exhausted just, but all too early was routed out in the cold darkness and harnessed with his mates to the sled. That day they made forty miles, the trail being packed; but the next day, and for many days to follow, they broke their own trail, worked harder, and made poorer time. As a rule, Perrault travelled ahead of the team, packing the snow with webbed shoes to make it easier for them. François, guiding the sled at the gee-pole, sometimes exchanged places with him, but not often. Perrault was in a hurry, and he prided himself on his knowledge of ice, which knowledge was indispensable, for the fall ice was very thin, and where there was swift water, there was no ice at all. Day after day, for days unending, Buck toiled in the traces. Always, they broke camp in the dark, and the first gray of dawn found them hitting the trail with fresh miles reeled off behind them. And always they pitched camp after dark, eating their bit of fish, and crawling to sleep into the snow. Buck was ravenous. The pound and a half of sun-dried salmon, which was his ration for each day, seemed to go nowhere. He never had enough, and suffered from perpetual hunger pangs. Yet the other dogs, because they weighed less and were born to the life, received a pound only of the fish and managed to keep in good condition. He swiftly lost the fastidiousness which had characterized his old life. A dainty eater, he found that his mates, finishing first, robbed him of his unfinished ration. There was no defending it. While he was fighting off two or three, it was disappearing down the throats of the others. To remedy this, he ate as fast as they; and, so greatly did hunger compel him, he was not above taking what did not belong to him. He watched and learned. When he saw Pike, one of the new dogs, a clever malingerer and thief, slyly steal a slice of bacon when Perrault’s back was turned, he duplicated the performance the following day, getting away with the whole chunk. A great uproar was raised, but he was unsuspected; while Dub, an awkward blunderer who was always getting caught, was punished for Buck’s misdeed. This first theft marked Buck as fit to survive in the hostile Northland environment. It marked his adaptability, his capacity to adjust himself to changing conditions, the lack of which would have meant swift and terrible death. It marked, further, the decay or going to pieces of his moral nature, a vain thing and a handicap in the ruthless struggle for existence. It was all well enough in the Southland, under the law of love and fellowship, to respect private property and personal feelings; but in the Northland, under the law of club and fang, whoso took such things into account was a fool, and in so far as he observed them he would fail to prosper. Not that Buck reasoned it out. He was fit, that was all, and unconsciously he accommodated himself to the new mode of life. All his days, no matter what the odds, he had never run from a fight. But the club of the man in the red sweater had beaten into him a more fundamental and primitive code. Civilized, he could have died for a moral consideration, say the defence of Judge Miller’s riding-whip; but the completeness of his decivilization was now evidenced by his ability to flee from the defence of a moral consideration and so save his hide. He did not steal for joy of it, but because of the clamor of his stomach. He did not rob openly, but stole secretly and cunningly, out of respect for club and fang. In short, the things he did were done because it was easier to do them than not to do them. His development (or retrogression) was rapid. His muscles became hard as iron, and he grew callous to all ordinary pain. He achieved an internal as well as external economy. He could eat anything, no matter how loathsome or indigestible; and, once eaten, the juices of his stomach extracted the last least particle of nutriment; and his blood carried it to the farthest reaches of his body, building it into the toughest and stoutest of tissues. Sight and scent became remarkably keen, while his hearing developed such acuteness that in his sleep he heard the faintest sound and knew whether it heralded peace or peril. He learned to bite the ice out with his teeth when it collected between his toes; and when he was thirsty and there was a thick scum of ice over the water hole, he would break it by rearing and striking it with stiff fore legs. His most conspicuous trait was an ability to scent the wind and forecast it a night in advance. No matter how breathless the air when he dug his nest by tree or bank, the wind that later blew inevitably found him to leeward, sheltered and snug. And not only did he learn by experience, but instincts long dead became alive again. The domesticated generations fell from him. In vague ways he remembered back to the youth of the breed, to the time the wild dogs ranged in packs through the primeval forest and killed their meat as they ran it down. It was no task for him to learn to fight with cut and slash and the quick wolf snap. In this manner had fought forgotten ancestors. They quickened the old life within him, and the old tricks which they had stamped into the heredity of the breed were his tricks. They came to him without effort or discovery, as though they had been his always. And when, on the still cold nights, he pointed his nose at a star and howled long and wolflike, it was his ancestors, dead and dust, pointing nose at star and howling down through the centuries and through him. And his cadences were their cadences, the cadences which voiced their woe and what to them was the meaning of the stiffness, and the cold, and dark. Thus, as token of what a puppet thing life is, the ancient song surged through him and he came into his own again; and he came because men had found a yellow metal in the North, and because Manuel was a gardener’s helper whose wages did not lap over the needs of his wife and divers small copies of himself. The dominant primordial beast was strong in Buck, and under the fierce conditions of trail life it grew and grew. Yet it was a secret growth. His newborn cunning gave him poise and control. He was too busy adjusting himself to the new life to feel at ease, and not only did he not pick fights, but he avoided them whenever possible. A certain deliberateness characterized his attitude. He was not prone to rashness and precipitate action; and in the bitter hatred between him and Spitz he betrayed no impatience, shunned all offensive acts. On the other hand, possibly because he divined in Buck a dangerous rival, Spitz never lost an opportunity of showing his teeth. He even went out of his way to bully Buck, striving constantly to start the fight which could end only in the death of one or the other. Early in the trip this might have taken place had it not been for an unwonted accident. At the end of this day they made a bleak and miserable camp on the shore of Lake Le Barge. Driving snow, a wind that cut like a white-hot knife, and darkness had forced them to grope for a camping place. They could hardly have fared worse. At their backs rose a perpendicular wall of rock, and Perrault and François were compelled to make their fire and spread their sleeping robes on the ice of the lake itself. The tent they had discarded at Dyea in order to travel light. A few sticks of driftwood furnished them with a fire that thawed down through the ice and left them to eat supper in the dark. Close in under the sheltering rock Buck made his nest. So snug and warm was it, that he was loath to leave it when François distributed the fish which he had first thawed over the fire. But when Buck finished his ration and returned, he found his nest occupied. A warning snarl told him that the trespasser was Spitz. Till now Buck had avoided trouble with his enemy, but this was too much. The beast in him roared. He sprang upon Spitz with a fury which surprised them both, and Spitz particularly, for his whole experience with Buck had gone to teach him that his rival was an unusually timid dog, who managed to hold his own only because of his great weight and size. François was surprised, too, when they shot out in a tangle from the disrupted nest and he divined the cause of the trouble. “A-a-ah! ” he cried to Buck. “Gif it to heem, by Gar! Gif it to heem, the dirty t’eef! ” Spitz was equally willing. He was crying with sheer rage and eagerness as he circled back and forth for a chance to spring in. Buck was no less eager, and no less cautious, as he likewise circled back and forth for the advantage. But it was then that the unexpected happened, the thing which projected their struggle for supremacy far into the future, past many a weary mile of trail and toil. An oath from Perrault, the resounding impact of a club upon a bony frame, and a shrill yelp of pain, heralded the breaking forth of pandemonium. The camp was suddenly discovered to be alive with skulking furry forms, —starving huskies, four or five score of them, who had scented the camp from some Indian village. They had crept in while Buck and Spitz were fighting, and when the two men sprang among them with stout clubs they showed their teeth and fought back. They were crazed by the smell of the food. Perrault found one with head buried in the grub-box. His club landed heavily on the gaunt ribs, and the grub-box was capsized on the ground. On the instant a score of the famished brutes were scrambling for the bread and bacon. The clubs fell upon them unheeded. They yelped and howled under the rain of blows, but struggled none the less madly till the last crumb had been devoured. In the meantime the astonished team-dogs had burst out of their nests only to be set upon by the fierce invaders. Never had Buck seen such dogs. It seemed as though their bones would burst through their skins. They were mere skeletons, draped loosely in draggled hides, with blazing eyes and slavered fangs. But the hunger-madness made them terrifying, irresistible. There was no opposing them. The team-dogs were swept back against the cliff at the first onset. Buck was beset by three huskies, and in a trice his head and shoulders were ripped and slashed. The din was frightful. Billee was crying as usual. Dave and Sol-leks, dripping blood from a score of wounds, were fighting bravely side by side. Joe was snapping like a demon. Once, his teeth closed on the fore leg of a husky, and he crunched down through the bone. Pike, the malingerer, leaped upon the crippled animal, breaking its neck with a quick flash of teeth and a jerk, Buck got a frothing adversary by the throat, and was sprayed with blood when his teeth sank through the jugular. The warm taste of it in his mouth goaded him to greater fierceness. He flung himself upon another, and at the same time felt teeth sink into his own throat. It was Spitz, treacherously attacking from the side. Perrault and François, having cleaned out their part of the camp, hurried to save their sled-dogs. The wild wave of famished beasts rolled back before them, and Buck shook himself free. But it was only for a moment. The two men were compelled to run back to save the grub, upon which the huskies returned to the attack on the team. Billee, terrified into bravery, sprang through the savage circle and fled away over the ice. Pike and Dub followed on his heels, with the rest of the team behind. As Buck drew himself together to spring after them, out of the tail of his eye he saw Spitz rush upon him with the evident intention of overthrowing him. Once off his feet and under that mass of huskies, there was no hope for him. But he braced himself to the shock of Spitz’s charge, then joined the flight out on the lake. Later, the nine team-dogs gathered together and sought shelter in the forest. Though unpursued, they were in a sorry plight. There was not one who was not wounded in four or five places, while some were wounded grievously. Dub was badly injured in a hind leg; Dolly, the last husky added to the team at Dyea, had a badly torn throat; Joe had lost an eye; while Billee, the good-natured, with an ear chewed and rent to ribbons, cried and whimpered throughout the night. At daybreak they limped warily back to camp, to find the marauders gone and the two men in bad tempers. Fully half their grub supply was gone. The huskies had chewed through the sled lashings and canvas coverings. In fact, nothing, no matter how remotely eatable, had escaped them. They had eaten a pair of Perrault’s moose-hide moccasins, chunks out of the leather traces, and even two feet of lash from the end of François’s whip. He broke from a mournful contemplation of it to look over his wounded dogs. “Ah, my frien’s, ” he said softly, “mebbe it mek you mad dog, dose many bites. Mebbe all mad dog, sacredam! Wot you t’ink, eh, Perrault? ” The courier shook his head dubiously. With four hundred miles of trail still between him and Dawson, he could ill afford to have madness break out among his dogs. Two hours of cursing and exertion got the harnesses into shape, and the wound-stiffened team was under way, struggling painfully over the hardest part of the trail they had yet encountered, and for that matter, the hardest between them and Dawson. The Thirty Mile River was wide open. Its wild water defied the frost, and it was in the eddies only and in the quiet places that the ice held at all. Six days of exhausting toil were required to cover those thirty terrible miles. And terrible they were, for every foot of them was accomplished at the risk of life to dog and man. A dozen times, Perrault, nosing the way broke through the ice bridges, being saved by the long pole he carried, which he so held that it fell each time across the hole made by his body. But a cold snap was on, the thermometer registering fifty below zero, and each time he broke through he was compelled for very life to build a fire and dry his garments. Nothing daunted him. It was because nothing daunted him that he had been chosen for government courier. He took all manner of risks, resolutely thrusting his little weazened face into the frost and struggling on from dim dawn to dark. He skirted the frowning shores on rim ice that bent and crackled under foot and upon which they dared not halt. Once, the sled broke through, with Dave and Buck, and they were half-frozen and all but drowned by the time they were dragged out. The usual fire was necessary to save them. They were coated solidly with ice, and the two men kept them on the run around the fire, sweating and thawing, so close that they were singed by the flames. At another time Spitz went through, dragging the whole team after him up to Buck, who strained backward with all his strength, his fore paws on the slippery edge and the ice quivering and snapping all around. But behind him was Dave, likewise straining backward, and behind the sled was François, pulling till his tendons cracked. Again, the rim ice broke away before and behind, and there was no escape except up the cliff. Perrault scaled it by a miracle, while François prayed for just that miracle; and with every thong and sled lashing and the last bit of harness rove into a long rope, the dogs were hoisted, one by one, to the cliff crest. François came up last, after the sled and load. Then came the search for a place to descend, which descent was ultimately made by the aid of the rope, and night found them back on the river with a quarter of a mile to the day’s credit. By the time they made the Hootalinqua and good ice, Buck was played out. The rest of the dogs were in like condition; but Perrault, to make up lost time, pushed them late and early. The first day they covered thirty-five miles to the Big Salmon; the next day thirty-five more to the Little Salmon; the third day forty miles, which brought them well up toward the Five Fingers. Buck’s feet were not so compact and hard as the feet of the huskies. His had softened during the many generations since the day his last wild ancestor was tamed by a cave-dweller or river man. All day long he limped in agony, and camp once made, lay down like a dead dog. Hungry as he was, he would not move to receive his ration of fish, which François had to bring to him. Also, the dog-driver rubbed Buck’s feet for half an hour each night after supper, and sacrificed the tops of his own moccasins to make four moccasins for Buck. This was a great relief, and Buck caused even the weazened face of Perrault to twist itself into a grin one morning, when François forgot the moccasins and Buck lay on his back, his four feet waving appealingly in the air, and refused to budge without them. Later his feet grew hard to the trail, and the worn-out foot-gear was thrown away. At the Pelly one morning, as they were harnessing up, Dolly, who had never been conspicuous for anything, went suddenly mad. She announced her condition by a long, heartbreaking wolf howl that sent every dog bristling with fear, then sprang straight for Buck. He had never seen a dog go mad, nor did he have any reason to fear madness; yet he knew that here was horror, and fled away from it in a panic. Straight away he raced, with Dolly, panting and frothing, one leap behind; nor could she gain on him, so great was his terror, nor could he leave her, so great was her madness. He plunged through the wooded breast of the island, flew down to the lower end, crossed a back channel filled with rough ice to another island, gained a third island, curved back to the main river, and in desperation started to cross it. And all the time, though he did not look, he could hear her snarling just one leap behind. François called to him a quarter of a mile away and he doubled back, still one leap ahead, gasping painfully for air and putting all his faith in that François would save him. The dog-driver held the axe poised in his hand, and as Buck shot past him the axe crashed down upon mad Dolly’s head. Buck staggered over against the sled, exhausted, sobbing for breath, helpless. This was Spitz’s opportunity. He sprang upon Buck, and twice his teeth sank into his unresisting foe and ripped and tore the flesh to the bone. Then François’s lash descended, and Buck had the satisfaction of watching Spitz receive the worst whipping as yet administered to any of the teams. “One devil, dat Spitz, ” remarked Perrault. “Some dam day heem keel dat Buck. ” “Dat Buck two devils, ” was François’s rejoinder. “All de tam I watch dat Buck I know for sure. Lissen: some dam fine day heem get mad lak hell an’ den heem chew dat Spitz all up an’ spit heem out on de snow. Sure. I know. ” From then on it was war between them. Spitz, as lead-dog and acknowledged master of the team, felt his supremacy threatened by this strange Southland dog. And strange Buck was to him, for of the many Southland dogs he had known, not one had shown up worthily in camp and on trail. They were all too soft, dying under the toil, the frost, and starvation. Buck was the exception. He alone endured and prospered, matching the husky in strength, savagery, and cunning. Then he was a masterful dog, and what made him dangerous was the fact that the club of the man in the red sweater had knocked all blind pluck and rashness out of his desire for mastery. He was preeminently cunning, and could bide his time with a patience that was nothing less than primitive. It was inevitable that the clash for leadership should come. Buck wanted it. He wanted it because it was his nature, because he had been gripped tight by that nameless, incomprehensible pride of the trail and trace—that pride which holds dogs in the toil to the last gasp, which lures them to die joyfully in the harness, and breaks their hearts if they are cut out of the harness. This was the pride of Dave as wheel-dog, of Sol-leks as he pulled with all his strength; the pride that laid hold of them at break of camp, transforming them from sour and sullen brutes into straining, eager, ambitious creatures; the pride that spurred them on all day and dropped them at pitch of camp at night, letting them fall back into gloomy unrest and uncontent. This was the pride that bore up Spitz and made him thrash the sled-dogs who blundered and shirked in the traces or hid away at harness-up time in the morning. Likewise it was this pride that made him fear Buck as a possible lead-dog. And this was Buck’s pride, too. He openly threatened the other’s leadership. He came between him and the shirks he should have punished. And he did it deliberately. One night there was a heavy snowfall, and in the morning Pike, the malingerer, did not appear. He was securely hidden in his nest under a foot of snow. François called him and sought him in vain. Spitz was wild with wrath. He raged through the camp, smelling and digging in every likely place, snarling so frightfully that Pike heard and shivered in his hiding-place. But when he was at last unearthed, and Spitz flew at him to punish him, Buck flew, with equal rage, in between. So unexpected was it, and so shrewdly managed, that Spitz was hurled backward and off his feet. Pike, who had been trembling abjectly, took heart at this open mutiny, and sprang upon his overthrown leader. Buck, to whom fair play was a forgotten code, likewise sprang upon Spitz. But François, chuckling at the incident while unswerving in the administration of justice, brought his lash down upon Buck with all his might. This failed to drive Buck from his prostrate rival, and the butt of the whip was brought into play. Half-stunned by the blow, Buck was knocked backward and the lash laid upon him again and again, while Spitz soundly punished the many times offending Pike. In the days that followed, as Dawson grew closer and closer, Buck still continued to interfere between Spitz and the culprits; but he did it craftily, when François was not around, With the covert mutiny of Buck, a general insubordination sprang up and increased. Dave and Sol-leks were unaffected, but the rest of the team went from bad to worse. Things no longer went right. There was continual bickering and jangling. Trouble was always afoot, and at the bottom of it was Buck. He kept François busy, for the dog-driver was in constant apprehension of the life-and-death struggle between the two which he knew must take place sooner or later; and on more than one night the sounds of quarrelling and strife among the other dogs turned him out of his sleeping robe, fearful that Buck and Spitz were at it. But the opportunity did not present itself, and they pulled into Dawson one dreary afternoon with the great fight still to come. Here were many men, and countless dogs, and Buck found them all at work. It seemed the ordained order of things that dogs should work. All day they swung up and down the main street in long teams, and in the night their jingling bells still went by. They hauled cabin logs and firewood, freighted up to the mines, and did all manner of work that horses did in the Santa Clara Valley. Here and there Buck met Southland dogs, but in the main they were the wild wolf husky breed. Every night, regularly, at nine, at twelve, at three, they lifted a nocturnal song, a weird and eerie chant, in which it was Buck’s delight to join. With the aurora borealis flaming coldly overhead, or the stars leaping in the frost dance, and the land numb and frozen under its pall of snow, this song of the huskies might have been the defiance of life, only it was pitched in minor key, with long-drawn wailings and half-sobs, and was more the pleading of life, the articulate travail of existence. It was an old song, old as the breed itself—one of the first songs of the younger world in a day when songs were sad. It was invested with the woe of unnumbered generations, this plaint by which Buck was so strangely stirred. When he moaned and sobbed, it was with the pain of living that was of old the pain of his wild fathers, and the fear and mystery of the cold and dark that was to them fear and mystery. And that he should be stirred by it marked the completeness with which he harked back through the ages of fire and roof to the raw beginnings of life in the howling ages. Seven days from the time they pulled into Dawson, they dropped down the steep bank by the Barracks to the Yukon Trail, and pulled for Dyea and Salt Water. Perrault was carrying despatches if anything more urgent than those he had brought in; also, the travel pride had gripped him, and he purposed to make the record trip of the year. Several things favored him in this. The week’s rest had recuperated the dogs and put them in thorough trim. The trail they had broken into the country was packed hard by later journeyers. And further, the police had arranged in two or three places deposits of grub for dog and man, and he was travelling light. They made Sixty Mile, which is a fifty-mile run, on the first day; and the second day saw them booming up the Yukon well on their way to Pelly. But such splendid running was achieved not without great trouble and vexation on the part of François. The insidious revolt led by Buck had destroyed the solidarity of the team. It no longer was as one dog leaping in the traces. The encouragement Buck gave the rebels led them into all kinds of petty misdemeanors. No more was Spitz a leader greatly to be feared. The old awe departed, and they grew equal to challenging his authority. Pike robbed him of half a fish one night, and gulped it down under the protection of Buck. Another night Dub and Joe fought Spitz and made him forego the punishment they deserved. And even Billee, the good-natured, was less good-natured, and whined not half so placatingly as in former days. Buck never came near Spitz without snarling and bristling menacingly. In fact, his conduct approached that of a bully, and he was given to swaggering up and down before Spitz’s very nose. The breaking down of discipline likewise affected the dogs in their relations with one another. They quarrelled and bickered more than ever among themselves, till at times the camp was a howling bedlam. Dave and Sol-leks alone were unaltered, though they were made irritable by the unending squabbling. François swore strange barbarous oaths, and stamped the snow in futile rage, and tore his hair. His lash was always singing among the dogs, but it was of small avail. Directly his back was turned they were at it again. He backed up Spitz with his whip, while Buck backed up the remainder of the team. François knew he was behind all the trouble, and Buck knew he knew; but Buck was too clever ever again to be caught red-handed. He worked faithfully in the harness, for the toil had become a delight to him; yet it was a greater delight slyly to precipitate a fight amongst his mates and tangle the traces. At the mouth of the Tahkeena, one night after supper, Dub turned up a snowshoe rabbit, blundered it, and missed. In a second the whole team was in full cry. A hundred yards away was a camp of the Northwest Police, with fifty dogs, huskies all, who joined the chase. The rabbit sped down the river, turned off into a small creek, up the frozen bed of which it held steadily. It ran lightly on the surface of the snow, while the dogs ploughed through by main strength. Buck led the pack, sixty strong, around bend after bend, but he could not gain. He lay down low to the race, whining eagerly, his splendid body flashing forward, leap by leap, in the wan white moonlight. And leap by leap, like some pale frost wraith, the snowshoe rabbit flashed on ahead. All that stirring of old instincts which at stated periods drives men out from the sounding cities to forest and plain to kill things by chemically propelled leaden pellets, the blood lust, the joy to kill—all this was Buck’s, only it was infinitely more intimate. He was ranging at the head of the pack, running the wild thing down, the living meat, to kill with his own teeth and wash his muzzle to the eyes in warm blood. There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive. This ecstasy, this forgetfulness of living, comes to the artist, caught up and out of himself in a sheet of flame; it comes to the soldier, war-mad on a stricken field and refusing quarter; and it came to Buck, leading the pack, sounding the old wolf-cry, straining after the food that was alive and that fled swiftly before him through the moonlight. He was sounding the deeps of his nature, and of the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going back into the womb of Time. He was mastered by the sheer surging of life, the tidal wave of being, the perfect joy of each separate muscle, joint, and sinew in that it was everything that was not death, that it was aglow and rampant, expressing itself in movement, flying exultantly under the stars and over the face of dead matter that did not move. But Spitz, cold and calculating even in his supreme moods, left the pack and cut across a narrow neck of land where the creek made a long bend around. Buck did not know of this, and as he rounded the bend, the frost wraith of a rabbit still flitting before him, he saw another and larger frost wraith leap from the overhanging bank into the immediate path of the rabbit. It was Spitz. The rabbit could not turn, and as the white teeth broke its back in mid air it shrieked as loudly as a stricken man may shriek. At sound of this, the cry of Life plunging down from Life’s apex in the grip of Death, the fall pack at Buck’s heels raised a hell’s chorus of delight. Buck did not cry out. He did not check himself, but drove in upon Spitz, shoulder to shoulder, so hard that he missed the throat. They rolled over and over in the powdery snow. Spitz gained his feet almost as though he had not been overthrown, slashing Buck down the shoulder and leaping clear. Twice his teeth clipped together, like the steel jaws of a trap, as he backed away for better footing, with lean and lifting lips that writhed and snarled. In a flash Buck knew it. The time had come. It was to the death. As they circled about, snarling, ears laid back, keenly watchful for the advantage, the scene came to Buck with a sense of familiarity. He seemed to remember it all, —the white woods, and earth, and moonlight, and the thrill of battle. Over the whiteness and silence brooded a ghostly calm. There was not the faintest whisper of air—nothing moved, not a leaf quivered, the visible breaths of the dogs rising slowly and lingering in the frosty air. They had made short work of the snowshoe rabbit, these dogs that were ill-tamed wolves; and they were now drawn up in an expectant circle. They, too, were silent, their eyes only gleaming and their breaths drifting slowly upward. To Buck it was nothing new or strange, this scene of old time. It was as though it had always been, the wonted way of things. Spitz was a practised fighter. From Spitzbergen through the Arctic, and across Canada and the Barrens, he had held his own with all manner of dogs and achieved to mastery over them. Bitter rage was his, but never blind rage. In passion to rend and destroy, he never forgot that his enemy was in like passion to rend and destroy. He never rushed till he was prepared to receive a rush; never attacked till he had first defended that attack. In vain Buck strove to sink his teeth in the neck of the big white dog. Wherever his fangs struck for the softer flesh, they were countered by the fangs of Spitz. Fang clashed fang, and lips were cut and bleeding, but Buck could not penetrate his enemy’s guard. Then he warmed up and enveloped Spitz in a whirlwind of rushes. Time and time again he tried for the snow-white throat, where life bubbled near to the surface, and each time and every time Spitz slashed him and got away. Then Buck took to rushing, as though for the throat, when, suddenly drawing back his head and curving in from the side, he would drive his shoulder at the shoulder of Spitz, as a ram by which to overthrow him. But instead, Buck’s shoulder was slashed down each time as Spitz leaped lightly away. Spitz was untouched, while Buck was streaming with blood and panting hard. The fight was growing desperate. And all the while the silent and wolfish circle waited to finish off whichever dog went down. As Buck grew winded, Spitz took to rushing, and he kept him staggering for footing. Once Buck went over, and the whole circle of sixty dogs started up; but he recovered himself, almost in mid air, and the circle sank down again and waited. But Buck possessed a quality that made for greatness—imagination. He fought by instinct, but he could fight by head as well. He rushed, as though attempting the old shoulder trick, but at the last instant swept low to the snow and in. His teeth closed on Spitz’s left fore leg. There was a crunch of breaking bone, and the white dog faced him on three legs. Thrice he tried to knock him over, then repeated the trick and broke the right fore leg. Despite the pain and helplessness, Spitz struggled madly to keep up. He saw the silent circle, with gleaming eyes, lolling tongues, and silvery breaths drifting upward, closing in upon him as he had seen similar circles close in upon beaten antagonists in the past. Only this time he was the one who was beaten. There was no hope for him. Buck was inexorable. Mercy was a thing reserved for gentler climes. He manœuvred for the final rush. The circle had tightened till he could feel the breaths of the huskies on his flanks. He could see them, beyond Spitz and to either side, half crouching for the spring, their eyes fixed upon him. A pause seemed to fall. Every animal was motionless as though turned to stone. Only Spitz quivered and bristled as he staggered back and forth, snarling with horrible menace, as though to frighten off impending death. Then Buck sprang in and out; but while he was in, shoulder had at last squarely met shoulder. The dark circle became a dot on the moon-flooded snow as Spitz disappeared from view. Buck stood and looked on, the successful champion, the dominant primordial beast who had made his kill and found it good. “Eh? Wot I say? I spik true w’en I say dat Buck two devils. ” This was François’s speech next morning when he discovered Spitz missing and Buck covered with wounds. He drew him to the fire and by its light pointed them out. “Dat Spitz fight lak hell, ” said Perrault, as he surveyed the gaping rips and cuts. “An’ dat Buck fight lak two hells, ” was François’s answer. “An’ now we make good time. No more Spitz, no more trouble, sure. ” While Perrault packed the camp outfit and loaded the sled, the dog-driver proceeded to harness the dogs. Buck trotted up to the place Spitz would have occupied as leader; but François, not noticing him, brought Sol-leks to the coveted position. In his judgment, Sol-leks was the best lead-dog left. Buck sprang upon Sol-leks in a fury, driving him back and standing in his place. “Eh? eh? ” François cried, slapping his thighs gleefully. “Look at dat Buck. Heem keel dat Spitz, heem t’ink to take de job. ” “Go ’way, Chook! ” he cried, but Buck refused to budge. He took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled threateningly, dragged him to one side and replaced Sol-leks. The old dog did not like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck. François was obdurate, but when he turned his back Buck again displaced Sol-leks, who was not at all unwilling to go. François was angry. “Now, by Gar, I feex you! ” he cried, coming back with a heavy club in his hand. Buck remembered the man in the red sweater, and retreated slowly; nor did he attempt to charge in when Sol-leks was once more brought forward. But he circled just beyond the range of the club, snarling with bitterness and rage; and while he circled he watched the club so as to dodge it if thrown by François, for he was become wise in the way of clubs. The driver went about his work, and he called to Buck when he was ready to put him in his old place in front of Dave. Buck retreated two or three steps. François followed him up, whereupon he again retreated. After some time of this, François threw down the club, thinking that Buck feared a thrashing. But Buck was in open revolt. He wanted, not to escape a clubbing, but to have the leadership. It was his by right. He had earned it, and he would not be content with less. Perrault took a hand. Between them they ran him about for the better part of an hour. They threw clubs at him. He dodged. They cursed him, and his fathers and mothers before him, and all his seed to come after him down to the remotest generation, and every hair on his body and drop of blood in his veins; and he answered curse with snarl and kept out of their reach. He did not try to run away, but retreated around and around the camp, advertising plainly that when his desire was met, he would come in and be good. François sat down and scratched his head. Perrault looked at his watch and swore. Time was flying, and they should have been on the trail an hour gone. François scratched his head again. He shook it and grinned sheepishly at the courier, who shrugged his shoulders in sign that they were beaten. Then François went up to where Sol-leks stood and called to Buck. Buck laughed, as dogs laugh, yet kept his distance. François unfastened Sol-leks’s traces and put him back in his old place. The team stood harnessed to the sled in an unbroken line, ready for the trail. There was no place for Buck save at the front. Once more François called, and once more Buck laughed and kept away. “T’row down de club, ” Perrault commanded. François complied, whereupon Buck trotted in, laughing triumphantly, and swung around into position at the head of the team. His traces were fastened, the sled broken out, and with both men running they dashed out on to the river trail. Highly as the dog-driver had forevalued Buck, with his two devils, he found, while the day was yet young, that he had undervalued. At a bound Buck took up the duties of leadership; and where judgment was required, and quick thinking and quick acting, he showed himself the superior even of Spitz, of whom François had never seen an equal. But it was in giving the law and making his mates live up to it, that Buck excelled. Dave and Sol-leks did not mind the change in leadership. It was none of their business. Their business was to toil, and toil mightily, in the traces. So long as that were not interfered with, they did not care what happened. Billee, the good-natured, could lead for all they cared, so long as he kept order. The rest of the team, however, had grown unruly during the last days of Spitz, and their surprise was great now that Buck proceeded to lick them into shape. Pike, who pulled at Buck’s heels, and who never put an ounce more of his weight against the breast-band than he was compelled to do, was swiftly and repeatedly shaken for loafing; and ere the first day was done he was pulling more than ever before in his life. The first night in camp, Joe, the sour one, was punished roundly—a thing that Spitz had never succeeded in doing. Buck simply smothered him by virtue of superior weight, and cut him up till he ceased snapping and began to whine for mercy. The general tone of the team picked up immediately. It recovered its old-time solidarity, and once more the dogs leaped as one dog in the traces. At the Rink Rapids two native huskies, Teek and Koona, were added; and the celerity with which Buck broke them in took away François’s breath. “Nevaire such a dog as dat Buck! ” he cried. “No, nevaire! Heem worth one t’ousan’ dollair, by Gar! Eh? Wot you say, And Perrault nodded. He was ahead of the record then, and gaining day by day. The trail was in excellent condition, well packed and hard, and there was no new-fallen snow with which to contend. It was not too cold. The temperature dropped to fifty below zero and remained there the whole trip. The men rode and ran by turn, and the dogs were kept on the jump, with but infrequent stoppages. The Thirty Mile River was comparatively coated with ice, and they covered in one day going out what had taken them ten days coming in. In one run they made a sixty-mile dash from the foot of Lake Le Barge to the White Horse Rapids. Across Marsh, Tagish, and Bennett (seventy miles of lakes), they flew so fast that the man whose turn it was to run towed behind the sled at the end of a rope. And on the last night of the second week they topped White Pass and dropped down the sea slope with the lights of Skaguay and of the shipping at their feet. It was a record run. Each day for fourteen days they had averaged forty miles. For three days Perrault and François threw chests up and down the main street of Skaguay and were deluged with invitations to drink, while the team was the constant centre of a worshipful crowd of dog-busters and mushers. Then three or four western bad men aspired to clean out the town, were riddled like pepper-boxes for their pains, and public interest turned to other idols. Next came official orders. François called Buck to him, threw his arms around him, wept over him. And that was the last of François and Perrault. Like other men, they passed out of Buck’s life for good. A Scotch half-breed took charge of him and his mates, and in company with a dozen other dog-teams he started back over the weary trail to Dawson. It was no light running now, nor record time, but heavy toil each day, with a heavy load behind; for this was the mail train, carrying word from the world to the men who sought gold under the shadow of the Pole. Buck did not like it, but he bore up well to the work, taking pride in it after the manner of Dave and Sol-leks, and seeing that his mates, whether they prided in it or not, did their fair share. It was a monotonous life, operating with machine-like regularity. One day was very like another. At a certain time each morning the cooks turned out, fires were built, and breakfast was eaten. Then, while some broke camp, others harnessed the dogs, and they were under way an hour or so before the darkness fell which gave warning of dawn. At night, camp was made. Some pitched the flies, others cut firewood and pine boughs for the beds, and still others carried water or ice for the cooks. Also, the dogs were fed. To them, this was the one feature of the day, though it was good to loaf around, after the fish was eaten, for an hour or so with the other dogs, of which there were fivescore and odd. There were fierce fighters among them, but three battles with the fiercest brought Buck to mastery, so that when he bristled and showed his teeth they got out of his way. Best of all, perhaps, he loved to lie near the fire, hind legs crouched under him, fore legs stretched out in front, head raised, and eyes blinking dreamily at the flames. Sometimes he thought of Judge Miller’s big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley, and of the cement swimming-tank, and Ysabel, the Mexican hairless, and Toots, the Japanese pug; but oftener he remembered the man in the red sweater, the death of Curly, the great fight with Spitz, and the good things he had eaten or would like to eat. He was not homesick. The Sunland was very dim and distant, and such memories had no power over him. Far more potent were the memories of his heredity that gave things he had never seen before a seeming familiarity; the instincts (which were but the memories of his ancestors become habits) which had lapsed in later days, and still later, in him, quickened and become alive again. Sometimes as he crouched there, blinking dreamily at the flames, it seemed that the flames were of another fire, and that as he crouched by this other fire he saw another and different man from the half-breed cook before him. This other man was shorter of leg and longer of arm, with muscles that were stringy and knotty rather than rounded and swelling. The hair of this man was long and matted, and his head slanted back under it from the eyes. He uttered strange sounds, and seemed very much afraid of the darkness, into which he peered continually, clutching in his hand, which hung midway between knee and foot, a stick with a heavy stone made fast to the end. He was all but naked, a ragged and fire-scorched skin hanging part way down his back, but on his body there was much hair. In some places, across the chest and shoulders and down the outside of the arms and thighs, it was matted into almost a thick fur. He did not stand erect, but with trunk inclined forward from the hips, on legs that bent at the knees. About his body there was a peculiar springiness, or resiliency, almost catlike, and a quick alertness as of one who lived in perpetual fear of things seen and unseen. At other times this hairy man squatted by the fire with head between his legs and slept. On such occasions his elbows were on his knees, his hands clasped above his head as though to shed rain by the hairy arms. And beyond that fire, in the circling darkness, Buck could see many gleaming coals, two by two, always two by two, which he knew to be the eyes of great beasts of prey. And he could hear the crashing of their bodies through the undergrowth, and the noises they made in the night. And dreaming there by the Yukon bank, with lazy eyes blinking at the fire, these sounds and sights of another world would make the hair to rise along his back and stand on end across his shoulders and up his neck, till he whimpered low and suppressedly, or growled softly, and the half-breed cook shouted at him, “Hey, you Buck, wake up! ” Whereupon the other world would vanish and the real world come into his eyes, and he would get up and yawn and stretch as though he had been asleep. It was a hard trip, with the mail behind them, and the heavy work wore them down. They were short of weight and in poor condition when they made Dawson, and should have had a ten days’ or a week’s rest at least. But in two days’ time they dropped down the Yukon bank from the Barracks, loaded with letters for the outside. The dogs were tired, the drivers grumbling, and to make matters worse, it snowed every day. This meant a soft trail, greater friction on the runners, and heavier pulling for the dogs; yet the drivers were fair through it all, and did their best for the animals. Each night the dogs were attended to first. They ate before the drivers ate, and no man sought his sleeping-robe till he had seen to the feet of the dogs he drove. Still, their strength went down. Since the beginning of the winter they had travelled eighteen hundred miles, dragging sleds the whole weary distance; and eighteen hundred miles will tell upon life of the toughest. Buck stood it, keeping his mates up to their work and maintaining discipline, though he, too, was very tired. Billee cried and whimpered regularly in his sleep each night. Joe was sourer than ever, and Sol-leks was unapproachable, blind side or other But it was Dave who suffered most of all. Something had gone wrong with him. He became more morose and irritable, and when camp was pitched at once made his nest, where his driver fed him. Once out of the harness and down, he did not get on his feet again till harness-up time in the morning. Sometimes, in the traces, when jerked by a sudden stoppage of the sled, or by straining to start it, he would cry out with pain. The driver examined him, but could find nothing. All the drivers became interested in his case. They talked it over at meal-time, and over their last pipes before going to bed, and one night they held a consultation. He was brought from his nest to the fire and was pressed and prodded till he cried out many times. Something was wrong inside, but they could locate no broken bones, could not make it out. By the time Cassiar Bar was reached, he was so weak that he was falling repeatedly in the traces. The Scotch half-breed called a halt and took him out of the team, making the next dog, Sol-leks, fast to the sled. His intention was to rest Dave, letting him run free behind the sled. Sick as he was, Dave resented being taken out, grunting and growling while the traces were unfastened, and whimpering broken-heartedly when he saw Sol-leks in the position he had held and served so long. For the pride of trace and trail was his, and, sick unto death, he could not bear that another dog should do his work. When the sled started, he floundered in the soft snow alongside the beaten trail, attacking Sol-leks with his teeth, rushing against him and trying to thrust him off into the soft snow on the other side, striving to leap inside his traces and get between him and the sled, and all the while whining and yelping and crying with grief and pain. The half-breed tried to drive him away with the whip; but he paid no heed to the stinging lash, and the man had not the heart to strike harder. Dave refused to run quietly on the trail behind the sled, where the going was easy, but continued to flounder alongside in the soft snow, where the going was most difficult, till exhausted. Then he fell, and lay where he fell, howling lugubriously as the long train of sleds churned by. With the last remnant of his strength he managed to stagger along behind till the train made another stop, when he floundered past the sleds to his own, where he stood alongside Sol-leks. His driver lingered a moment to get a light for his pipe from the man behind. Then he returned and started his dogs. They swung out on the trail with remarkable lack of exertion, turned their heads uneasily, and stopped in surprise. The driver was surprised, too; the sled had not moved. He called his comrades to witness the sight. Dave had bitten through both of Sol-leks’s traces, and was standing directly in front of the sled in his proper place. He pleaded with his eyes to remain there. The driver was perplexed. His comrades talked of how a dog could break its heart through being denied the work that killed it, and recalled instances they had known, where dogs, too old for the toil, or injured, had died because they were cut out of the traces. Also, they held it a mercy, since Dave was to die anyway, that he should die in the traces, heart-easy and content. So he was harnessed in again, and proudly he pulled as of old, though more than once he cried out involuntarily from the bite of his inward hurt. Several times he fell down and was dragged in the traces, and once the sled ran upon him so that he limped thereafter in one of his hind legs. But he held out till camp was reached, when his driver made a place for him by the fire. Morning found him too weak to travel. At harness-up time he tried to crawl to his driver. By convulsive efforts he got on his feet, staggered, and fell. Then he wormed his way forward slowly toward where the harnesses were being put on his mates. He would advance his fore legs and drag up his body with a sort of hitching movement, when he would advance his fore legs and hitch ahead again for a few more inches. His strength left him, and the last his mates saw of him he lay gasping in the snow and yearning toward them. But they could hear him mournfully howling till they passed out of sight behind a belt of river timber. Here the train was halted. The Scotch half-breed slowly retraced his steps to the camp they had left. The men ceased talking. A revolver-shot rang out. The man came back hurriedly. The whips snapped, the bells tinkled merrily, the sleds churned along the trail; but Buck knew, and every dog knew, what had taken place behind the belt of river trees. Chapter V. The Toil of Trace and Trail 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 fibre, every cell, was tired, dead tired. And there was reason for it. In less than five months they had travelled twenty-five hundred miles, during the last eighteen hundred of which they had 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 las’. Den we get one long res’. Eh? For sure. One bully long res’. ” 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 François 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 put it on the back, and covered it over with a couple of other 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 it’s 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-wonderin’, 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. “An’ 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 breast-bands, 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 any one. Ask one of those men. ” Mercedes looked at them imploringly, untold repugnance 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 defence 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 breast-bands, 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 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 gayety 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 travelling 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. These, 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, 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 Outsides were timid and frightened, the Insides 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 Outside 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 it 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 travelling 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 gentlenesses 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 quarrelling 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, outdistanced 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 on 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 travelled 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 practised 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 horse-hide 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 innutritious 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 travelled 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 running 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’s eyes wistfully watering, they staggered into John Thornton’s camp at the mouth of 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 in to 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’s scream came to their ears. They saw Charles turn and make one step to run back, and 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 Thornton and Buck looked at each other. “You poor devil, ” said John Thornton, and Buck licked his hand. When John Thornton froze his feet in the previous December his partners had made him comfortable and left him to get well, going on themselves up the river to get out a raft of saw-logs for Dawson. He was still limping slightly at the time he rescued Buck, but with the continued warm weather even the slight limp left him. And here, lying by the river bank through the long spring days, watching the running water, listening lazily to the songs of birds and the hum of nature, Buck slowly won back his strength. A rest comes very good after one has travelled three thousand miles, and it must be confessed that Buck waxed lazy as his wounds healed, his muscles swelled out, and the flesh came back to cover his bones. For that matter, they were all loafing, —Buck, John Thornton, and Skeet and Nig, —waiting for the raft to come that was to carry them down to Dawson. Skeet was a little Irish setter who early made friends with Buck, who, in a dying condition, was unable to resent her first advances. She had the doctor trait which some dogs possess; and as a mother cat washes her kittens, so she washed and cleansed Buck’s wounds. Regularly, each morning after he had finished his breakfast, she performed her self-appointed task, till he came to look for her ministrations as much as he did for Thornton’s. Nig, equally friendly, though less demonstrative, was a huge black dog, half bloodhound and half deerhound, with eyes that laughed and a boundless good nature. To Buck’s surprise these dogs manifested no jealousy toward him. They seemed to share the kindliness and largeness of John Thornton. As Buck grew stronger they enticed him into all sorts of ridiculous games, in which Thornton himself could not forbear to join; and in this fashion Buck romped through his convalescence and into a new existence. Love, genuine passionate love, was his for the first time. This he had never experienced at Judge Miller’s down in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley. With the Judge’s sons, hunting and tramping, it had been a working partnership; with the Judge’s grandsons, a sort of pompous guardianship; and with the Judge himself, a stately and dignified friendship. But love that was feverish and burning, that was adoration, that was madness, it had taken John Thornton to arouse. This man had saved his life, which was something; but, further, he was the ideal master. Other men saw to the welfare of their dogs from a sense of duty and business expediency; he saw to the welfare of his as if they were his own children, because he could not help it. And he saw further. He never forgot a kindly greeting or a cheering word, and to sit down for a long talk with them (“gas” he called it) was as much his delight as theirs. He had a way of taking Buck’s head roughly between his hands, and resting his own head upon Buck’s, of shaking him back and forth, the while calling him ill names that to Buck were love names. Buck knew no greater joy than that rough embrace and the sound of murmured oaths, and at each jerk back and forth it seemed that his heart would be shaken out of his body so great was its ecstasy. And when, released, he sprang to his feet, his mouth laughing, his eyes eloquent, his throat vibrant with unuttered sound, and in that fashion remained without movement, John Thornton would reverently exclaim, “God! you can all but speak! ” Buck had a trick of love expression that was akin to hurt. He would often seize Thornton’s hand in his mouth and close so fiercely that the flesh bore the impress of his teeth for some time afterward. And as Buck understood the oaths to be love words, so the man understood this feigned bite for a caress. For the most part, however, Buck’s love was expressed in adoration. While he went wild with happiness when Thornton touched him or spoke to him, he did not seek these tokens. Unlike Skeet, who was wont to shove her nose under Thornton’s hand and nudge and nudge till petted, or Nig, who would stalk up and rest his great head on Thornton’s knee, Buck was content to adore at a distance. He would lie by the hour, eager, alert, at Thornton’s feet, looking up into his face, dwelling upon it, studying it, following with keenest interest each fleeting expression, every movement or change of feature. Or, as chance might have it, he would lie farther away, to the side or rear, watching the outlines of the man and the occasional movements of his body. And often, such was the communion in which they lived, the strength of Buck’s gaze would draw John Thornton’s head around, and he would return the gaze, without speech, his heart shining out of his eyes as Buck’s heart shone out. For a long time after his rescue, Buck did not like Thornton to get out of his sight. From the moment he left the tent to when he entered it again, Buck would follow at his heels. His transient masters since he had come into the Northland had bred in him a fear that no master could be permanent. He was afraid that Thornton would pass out of his life as Perrault and François and the Scotch half-breed had passed out. Even in the night, in his dreams, he was haunted by this fear. At such times he would shake off sleep and creep through the chill to the flap of the tent, where he would stand and listen to the sound of his master’s breathing. But in spite of this great love he bore John Thornton, which seemed to bespeak the soft civilizing influence, the strain of the primitive, which the Northland had aroused in him, remained alive and active. Faithfulness and devotion, things born of fire and roof, were his; yet he retained his wildness and wiliness. He was a thing of the wild, come in from the wild to sit by John Thornton’s fire, rather than a dog of the soft Southland stamped with the marks of generations of civilization. Because of his very great love, he could not steal from this man, but from any other man, in any other camp, he did not hesitate an instant; while the cunning with which he stole enabled him to escape detection. His face and body were scored by the teeth of many dogs, and he fought as fiercely as ever and more shrewdly. Skeet and Nig were too good-natured for quarrelling, —besides, they belonged to John Thornton; but the strange dog, no matter what the breed or valor, swiftly acknowledged Buck’s supremacy or found himself struggling for life with a terrible antagonist. And Buck was merciless. He had learned well the law of club and fang, and he never forewent an advantage or drew back from a foe he had started on the way to Death. He had lessoned from Spitz, and from the chief fighting dogs of the police and mail, and knew there was no middle course. He must master or be mastered; while to show mercy was a weakness. Mercy did not exist in the primordial life. It was misunderstood for fear, and such misunderstandings made for death. Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten, was the law; and this mandate, down out of the depths of Time, he obeyed. He was older than the days he had seen and the breaths he had drawn. He linked the past with the present, and the eternity behind him throbbed through him in a mighty rhythm to which he swayed as the tides and seasons swayed. He sat by John Thornton’s fire, a broad-breasted dog, white-fanged and long-furred; but behind him were the shades of all manner of dogs, half-wolves and wild wolves, urgent and prompting, tasting the savor of the meat he ate, thirsting for the water he drank, scenting the wind with him, listening with him and telling him the sounds made by the wild life in the forest, dictating his moods, directing his actions, lying down to sleep with him when he lay down, and dreaming with him and beyond him and becoming themselves the stuff of his dreams. So peremptorily did these shades beckon him, that each day mankind and the claims of mankind slipped farther from him. Deep in the forest a call was sounding, and as often as he heard this call, mysteriously thrilling and luring, he felt compelled to turn his back upon the fire and the beaten earth around it, and to plunge into the forest, and on and on, he knew not where or why; nor did he wonder where or why, the call sounding imperiously, deep in the forest. But as often as he gained the soft unbroken earth and the green shade, the love for John Thornton drew him back to the fire again. Thornton alone held him. The rest of mankind was as nothing. Chance travellers might praise or pet him; but he was cold under it all, and from a too demonstrative man he would get up and walk away. When Thornton’s partners, Hans and Pete, arrived on the long-expected raft, Buck refused to notice them till he learned they were close to Thornton; after that he tolerated them in a passive sort of way, accepting favors from them as though he favored them by accepting. They were of the same large type as Thornton, living close to the earth, thinking simply and seeing clearly; and ere they swung the raft into the big eddy by the saw-mill at Dawson, they understood Buck and his ways, and did not insist upon an intimacy such as obtained with Skeet and Nig. For Thornton, however, his love seemed to grow and grow. He, alone among men, could put a pack upon Buck’s back in the summer travelling. Nothing was too great for Buck to do, when Thornton commanded. One day (they had grub-staked themselves from the proceeds of the raft and left Dawson for the head-waters of the Tanana) the men and dogs were sitting on the crest of a cliff which fell away, straight down, to naked bed-rock three hundred feet below. John Thornton was sitting near the edge, Buck at his shoulder. A thoughtless whim seized Thornton, and he drew the attention of Hans and Pete to the experiment he had in mind. “Jump, Buck! ” he commanded, sweeping his arm out and over the chasm. The next instant he was grappling with Buck on the extreme edge, while Hans and Pete were dragging them back into safety. “It’s uncanny, ” Pete said, after it was over and they had caught their speech. Thornton shook his head. “No, it is splendid, and it is terrible, too. Do you know, it sometimes makes me afraid. ” “I’m not hankering to be the man that lays hands on you while he’s around, ” Pete announced conclusively, nodding his head toward Buck. “Py Jingo! ” was Hans’s contribution. “Not mineself either. ” It was at Circle City, ere the year was out, that Pete’s apprehensions were realized. “Black” Burton, a man evil-tempered and malicious, had been picking a quarrel with a tenderfoot at the bar, when Thornton stepped good-naturedly between. Buck, as was his custom, was lying in a corner, head on paws, watching his master’s every action. Burton struck out, without warning, straight from the shoulder. Thornton was sent spinning, and saved himself from falling only by clutching the rail of the bar. Those who were looking on heard what was neither bark nor yelp, but a something which is best described as a roar, and they saw Buck’s body rise up in the air as he left the floor for Burton’s throat. The man saved his life by instinctively throwing out his arm, but was hurled backward to the floor with Buck on top of him. Buck loosed his teeth from the flesh of the arm and drove in again for the throat. This time the man succeeded only in partly blocking, and his throat was torn open. Then the crowd was upon Buck, and he was driven off; but while a surgeon checked the bleeding, he prowled up and down, growling furiously, attempting to rush in, and being forced back by an array of hostile clubs. A “miners’ meeting, ” called on the spot, decided that the dog had sufficient provocation, and Buck was discharged. But his reputation was made, and from that day his name spread through every camp in Alaska. Later on, in the fall of the year, he saved John Thornton’s life in quite another fashion. The three partners were lining a long and narrow poling-boat down a bad stretch of rapids on the Forty-Mile Creek. Hans and Pete moved along the bank, snubbing with a thin Manila rope from tree to tree, while Thornton remained in the boat, helping its descent by means of a pole, and shouting directions to the shore. Buck, on the bank, worried and anxious, kept abreast of the boat, his eyes never off his master. At a particularly bad spot, where a ledge of barely submerged rocks jutted out into the river, Hans cast off the rope, and, while Thornton poled the boat out into the stream, ran down the bank with the end in his hand to snub the boat when it had cleared the ledge. This it did, and was flying down-stream in a current as swift as a mill-race, when Hans checked it with the rope and checked too suddenly. The boat flirted over and snubbed in to the bank bottom up, while Thornton, flung sheer out of it, was carried down-stream toward the worst part of the rapids, a stretch of wild water in which no swimmer could live. Buck had sprung in on the instant; and at the end of three hundred yards, amid a mad swirl of water, he overhauled Thornton. When he felt him grasp his tail, Buck headed for the bank, swimming with all his splendid strength. But the progress shoreward was slow; the progress down-stream amazingly rapid. From below came the fatal roaring where the wild current went wilder and was rent in shreds and spray by the rocks which thrust through like the teeth of an enormous comb. The suck of the water as it took the beginning of the last steep pitch was frightful, and Thornton knew that the shore was impossible. He scraped furiously over a rock, bruised across a second, and struck a third with crushing force. He clutched its slippery top with both hands, releasing Buck, and above the roar of the churning water shouted: “Go, Buck! Go! ” Buck could not hold his own, and swept on down-stream, struggling desperately, but unable to win back. When he heard Thornton’s command repeated, he partly reared out of the water, throwing his head high, as though for a last look, then turned obediently toward the bank. He swam powerfully and was dragged ashore by Pete and Hans at the very point where swimming ceased to be possible and destruction began. They knew that the time a man could cling to a slippery rock in the face of that driving current was a matter of minutes, and they ran as fast as they could up the bank to a point far above where Thornton was hanging on. They attached the line with which they had been snubbing the boat to Buck’s neck and shoulders, being careful that it should neither strangle him nor impede his swimming, and launched him into the stream. He struck out boldly, but not straight enough into the stream. He discovered the mistake too late, when Thornton was abreast of him and a bare half-dozen strokes away while he was being carried helplessly past. Hans promptly snubbed with the rope, as though Buck were a boat. The rope thus tightening on him in the sweep of the current, he was jerked under the surface, and under the surface he remained till his body struck against the bank and he was hauled out. He was half drowned, and Hans and Pete threw themselves upon him, pounding the breath into him and the water out of him. He staggered to his feet and fell down. The faint sound of Thornton’s voice came to them, and though they could not make out the words of it, they knew that he was in his extremity. His master’s voice acted on Buck like an electric shock, He sprang to his feet and ran up the bank ahead of the men to the point of his previous departure. Again the rope was attached and he was launched, and again he struck out, but this time straight into the stream. He had miscalculated once, but he would not be guilty of it a second time. Hans paid out the rope, permitting no slack, while Pete kept it clear of coils. Buck held on till he was on a line straight above Thornton; then he turned, and with the speed of an express train headed down upon him. Thornton saw him coming, and, as Buck struck him like a battering ram, with the whole force of the current behind him, he reached up and closed with both arms around the shaggy neck. Hans snubbed the rope around the tree, and Buck and Thornton were jerked under the water. Strangling, suffocating, sometimes one uppermost and sometimes the other, dragging over the jagged bottom, smashing against rocks and snags, they veered in to the bank. Thornton came to, belly downward and being violently propelled back and forth across a drift log by Hans and Pete. His first glance was for Buck, over whose limp and apparently lifeless body Nig was setting up a howl, while Skeet was licking the wet face and closed eyes. Thornton was himself bruised and battered, and he went carefully over Buck’s body, when he had been brought around, finding three broken ribs. “That settles it, ” he announced. “We camp right here. ” And camp they did, till Buck’s ribs knitted and he was able to travel. That winter, at Dawson, Buck performed another exploit, not so heroic, perhaps, but one that put his name many notches higher on the totem-pole of Alaskan fame. This exploit was particularly gratifying to the three men; for they stood in need of the outfit which it furnished, and were enabled to make a long-desired trip into the virgin East, where miners had not yet appeared. It was brought about by a conversation in the Eldorado Saloon, in which men waxed boastful of their favorite dogs. Buck, because of his record, was the target for these men, and Thornton was driven stoutly to defend him. At the end of half an hour one man stated that his dog could start a sled with five hundred pounds and walk off with it; a second bragged six hundred for his dog; and a third, seven hundred. “Pooh! pooh! ” said John Thornton; “Buck can start a thousand pounds. ” “And break it out? and walk off with it for a hundred yards? ” demanded Matthewson, a Bonanza King, he of the seven hundred vaunt. “And break it out, and walk off with it for a hundred yards, ” John Thornton said coolly. “Well, ” Matthewson said, slowly and deliberately, so that all could hear, “I’ve got a thousand dollars that says he can’t. And there it is. ” So saying, he slammed a sack of gold dust of the size of a bologna sausage down upon the bar. Nobody spoke. Thornton’s bluff, if bluff it was, had been called. He could feel a flush of warm blood creeping up his face. His tongue had tricked him. He did not know whether Buck could start a thousand pounds. Half a ton! The enormousness of it appalled him. He had great faith in Buck’s strength and had often thought him capable of starting such a load; but never, as now, had he faced the possibility of it, the eyes of a dozen men fixed upon him, silent and waiting. Further, he had no thousand dollars; nor had Hans or Pete. “I’ve got a sled standing outside now, with twenty fiftypound sacks of flour on it, ” Matthewson went on with brutal directness; “so don’t let that hinder you. ” Thornton did not reply. He did not know what to say. He glanced from face to face in the absent way of a man who has lost the power of thought and is seeking somewhere to find the thing that will start it going again. The face of Jim O’Brien, a Mastodon King and old-time comrade, caught his eyes. It was as a cue to him, seeming to rouse him to do what he would never have dreamed of doing. “Can you lend me a thousand? ” he asked, almost in a whisper. “Sure, ” answered O’Brien, thumping down a plethoric sack by the side of Matthewson’s. “Though it’s little faith I’m having, John, that the beast can do the trick. ” The Eldorado emptied its occupants into the street to see the test. The tables were deserted, and the dealers and gamekeepers came forth to see the outcome of the wager and to lay odds. Several hundred men, furred and mittened, banked around the sled within easy distance. Matthewson’s sled, loaded with a thousand pounds of flour, had been standing for a couple of hours, and in the intense cold (it was sixty below zero) the runners had frozen fast to the hard-packed snow. Men offered odds of two to one that Buck could not budge the sled. A quibble arose concerning the phrase “break out. ” O’Brien contended it was Thornton’s privilege to knock the runners loose, leaving Buck to “break it out” from a dead standstill. Matthewson insisted that the phrase included breaking the runners from the frozen grip of the snow. A majority of the men who had witnessed the making of the bet decided in his favor, whereat the odds went up to three to one against There were no takers. Not a man believed him capable of the feat. Thornton had been hurried into the wager, heavy with doubt; and now that he looked at the sled itself, the concrete fact, with the regular team of ten dogs curled up in the snow before it, the more impossible the task appeared. Matthewson waxed jubilant. “Three to one! ” he proclaimed. “I’ll lay you another thousand at that figure, Thornton. What d’ye say? ” Thornton’s doubt was strong in his face, but his fighting spirit was aroused—the fighting spirit that soars above odds, fails to recognize the impossible, and is deaf to all save the clamor for battle. He called Hans and Pete to him. Their sacks were slim, and with his own the three partners could rake together only two hundred dollars. In the ebb of their fortunes, this sum was their total capital; yet they laid it unhesitatingly against Matthewson’s six hundred. The team of ten dogs was unhitched, and Buck, with his own harness, was put into the sled. He had caught the contagion of the excitement, and he felt that in some way he must do a great thing for John Thornton. Murmurs of admiration at his splendid appearance went up. He was in perfect condition, without an ounce of superfluous flesh, and the one hundred and fifty pounds that he weighed were so many pounds of grit and virility. His furry coat shone with the sheen of silk. Down the neck and across the shoulders, his mane, in repose as it was, half bristled and seemed to lift with every movement, as though excess of vigor made each particular hair alive and active. The great breast and heavy fore legs were no more than in proportion with the rest of the body, where the muscles showed in tight rolls underneath the skin. Men felt these muscles and proclaimed them hard as iron, and the odds went down to two to one. “Gad, sir! Gad, sir! ” stuttered a member of the latest dynasty, a king of the Skookum Benches. “I offer you eight hundred for him, sir, before the test, sir; eight hundred just as he stands. ” Thornton shook his head and stepped to Buck’s side. “You must stand off from him, ” Matthewson protested. “Free play and plenty of room. ” The crowd fell silent; only could be heard the voices of the gamblers vainly offering two to one. Everybody acknowledged Buck a magnificent animal, but twenty fifty-pound sacks of flour bulked too large in their eyes for them to loosen their pouch-strings. Thornton knelt down by Buck’s side. He took his head in his two hands and rested cheek on cheek. He did not playfully shake him, as was his wont, or murmur soft love curses; but he whispered in his ear. “As you love me, Buck. As you love me, ” was what he whispered. Buck whined with suppressed eagerness. The crowd was watching curiously. The affair was growing mysterious. It seemed like a conjuration. As Thornton got to his feet, Buck seized his mittened hand between his jaws, pressing in with his teeth and releasing slowly, half-reluctantly. It was the answer, in terms, not of speech, but of love. Thornton stepped well back. “Now, Buck, ” he said. Buck tightened the traces, then slacked them for a matter of several inches. It was the way he had learned. “Gee! ” Thornton’s voice rang out, sharp in the tense silence. Buck swung to the right, ending the movement in a plunge that took up the slack and with a sudden jerk arrested his one hundred and fifty pounds. The load quivered, and from under the runners arose a crisp crackling. “Haw! ” Thornton commanded. Buck duplicated the manœuvre, this time to the left. The crackling turned into a snapping, the sled pivoting and the runners slipping and grating several inches to the side. The sled was broken out. Men were holding their breaths, intensely unconscious of the fact. “Now, MUSH! ” Thornton’s command cracked out like a pistol-shot. Buck threw himself forward, tightening the traces with a jarring lunge. His whole body was gathered compactly together in the tremendous effort, the muscles writhing and knotting like live things under the silky fur. His great chest was low to the ground, his head forward and down, while his feet were flying like mad, the claws scarring the hard-packed snow in parallel grooves. The sled swayed and trembled, half-started forward. One of his feet slipped, and one man groaned aloud. Then the sled lurched ahead in what appeared a rapid succession of jerks, though it never really came to a dead stop an inch... two inches... The jerks perceptibly diminished; as the sled gained momentum, he caught them up, till it was moving steadily along. Men gasped and began to breathe again, unaware that for a moment they had ceased to breathe. Thornton was running behind, encouraging Buck with short, cheery words. The distance had been measured off, and as he neared the pile of firewood which marked the end of the hundred yards, a cheer began to grow and grow, which burst into a roar as he passed the firewood and halted at command. Every man was tearing himself loose, even Matthewson. Hats and mittens were flying in the air. Men were shaking hands, it did not matter with whom, and bubbling over in a general incoherent babel. But Thornton fell on his knees beside Buck. Head was against head, and he was shaking him back and forth. Those who hurried up heard him cursing Buck, and he cursed him long and fervently, and softly and lovingly. “Gad, sir! Gad, sir! ” spluttered the Skookum Bench king. “I’ll give you a thousand for him, sir, a thousand, sir—twelve hundred, sir. ” Thornton rose to his feet. His eyes were wet. The tears were streaming frankly down his cheeks. “Sir, ” he said to the Skookum Bench king, “no, sir. You can go to hell, sir. It’s the best I can do for you, sir. ” Buck seized Thornton’s hand in his teeth. Thornton shook him back and forth. As though animated by a common impulse, the onlookers drew back to a respectful distance; nor were they again indiscreet enough to interrupt. When Buck earned sixteen hundred dollars in five minutes for John Thornton, he made it possible for his master to pay off certain debts and to journey with his partners into the East after a fabled lost mine, the history of which was as old as the history of the country. Many men had sought it; few had found it; and more than a few there were who had never returned from the quest. This lost mine was steeped in tragedy and shrouded in mystery. No one knew of the first man. The oldest tradition stopped before it got back to him. From the beginning there had been an ancient and ramshackle cabin. Dying men had sworn to it, and to the mine the site of which it marked, clinching their testimony with nuggets that were unlike any known grade of gold in the Northland. But no living man had looted this treasure house, and the dead were dead; wherefore John Thornton and Pete and Hans, with Buck and half a dozen other dogs, faced into the East on an unknown trail to achieve where men and dogs as good as themselves had failed. They sledded seventy miles up the Yukon, swung to the left into the Stewart River, passed the Mayo and the McQuestion, and held on until the Stewart itself became a streamlet, threading the upstanding peaks which marked the backbone of the continent. John Thornton asked little of man or nature. He was unafraid of the wild. With a handful of salt and a rifle he could plunge into the wilderness and fare wherever he pleased and as long as he pleased. Being in no haste, Indian fashion, he hunted his dinner in the course of the day’s travel; and if he failed to find it, like the Indian, he kept on travelling, secure in the knowledge that sooner or later he would come to it. So, on this great journey into the East, straight meat was the bill of fare, ammunition and tools principally made up the load on the sled, and the time-card was drawn upon the limitless future. To Buck it was boundless delight, this hunting, fishing, and indefinite wandering through strange places. For weeks at a time they would hold on steadily, day after day; and for weeks upon end they would camp, here and there, the dogs loafing and the men burning holes through frozen muck and gravel and washing countless pans of dirt by the heat of the fire. Sometimes they went hungry, sometimes they feasted riotously, all according to the abundance of game and the fortune of hunting. Summer arrived, and dogs and men packed on their backs, rafted across blue mountain lakes, and descended or ascended unknown rivers in slender boats whipsawed from the standing forest. The months came and went, and back and forth they twisted through the uncharted vastness, where no men were and yet where men had been if the Lost Cabin were true. They went across divides in summer blizzards, shivered under the midnight sun on naked mountains between the timber line and the eternal snows, dropped into summer valleys amid swarming gnats and flies, and in the shadows of glaciers picked strawberries and flowers as ripe and fair as any the Southland could boast. In the fall of the year they penetrated a weird lake country, sad and silent, where wildfowl had been, but where then there was no life nor sign of life—only the blowing of chill winds, the forming of ice in sheltered places, and the melancholy rippling of waves on lonely beaches. And through another winter they wandered on the obliterated trails of men who had gone before. Once, they came upon a path blazed through the forest, an ancient path, and the Lost Cabin seemed very near. But the path began nowhere and ended nowhere, and it remained mystery, as the man who made it and the reason he made it remained mystery. Another time they chanced upon the time-graven wreckage of a hunting lodge, and amid the shreds of rotted blankets John Thornton found a long-barrelled flint-lock. He knew it for a Hudson Bay Company gun of the young days in the Northwest, when such a gun was worth its height in beaver skins packed flat, And that was all—no hint as to the man who in an early day had reared the lodge and left the gun among the blankets. Spring came on once more, and at the end of all their wandering they found, not the Lost Cabin, but a shallow placer in a broad valley where the gold showed like yellow butter across the bottom of the washing-pan. They sought no farther. Each day they worked earned them thousands of dollars in clean dust and nuggets, and they worked every day. The gold was sacked in moose-hide bags, fifty pounds to the bag, and piled like so much firewood outside the spruce-bough lodge. Like giants they toiled, days flashing on the heels of days like dreams as they heaped the treasure up. There was nothing for the dogs to do, save the hauling in of meat now and again that Thornton killed, and Buck spent long hours musing by the fire. The vision of the short-legged hairy man came to him more frequently, now that there was little work to be done; and often, blinking by the fire, Buck wandered with him in that other world which he remembered. The salient thing of this other world seemed fear. When he watched the hairy man sleeping by the fire, head between his knees and hands clasped above, Buck saw that he slept restlessly, with many starts and awakenings, at which times he would peer fearfully into the darkness and fling more wood upon the fire. Did they walk by the beach of a sea, where the hairy man gathered shellfish and ate them as he gathered, it was with eyes that roved everywhere for hidden danger and with legs prepared to run like the wind at its first appearance. Through the forest they crept noiselessly, Buck at the hairy man’s heels; and they were alert and vigilant, the pair of them, ears twitching and moving and nostrils quivering, for the man heard and smelled as keenly as Buck. The hairy man could spring up into the trees and travel ahead as fast as on the ground, swinging by the arms from limb to limb, sometimes a dozen feet apart, letting go and catching, never falling, never missing his grip. In fact, he seemed as much at home among the trees as on the ground; and Buck had memories of nights of vigil spent beneath trees wherein the hairy man roosted, holding on tightly as he slept. And closely akin to the visions of the hairy man was the call still sounding in the depths of the forest. It filled him with a great unrest and strange desires. It caused him to feel a vague, sweet gladness, and he was aware of wild yearnings and stirrings for he knew not what. Sometimes he pursued the call into the forest, looking for it as though it were a tangible thing, barking softly or defiantly, as the mood might dictate. He would thrust his nose into the cool wood moss, or into the black soil where long grasses grew, and snort with joy at the fat earth smells; or he would crouch for hours, as if in concealment, behind fungus-covered trunks of fallen trees, wide-eyed and wide-eared to all that moved and sounded about him. It might be, lying thus, that he hoped to surprise this call he could not understand. But he did not know why he did these various things. He was impelled to do them, and did not reason about them at all. Irresistible impulses seized him. He would be lying in camp, dozing lazily in the heat of the day, when suddenly his head would lift and his ears cock up, intent and listening, and he would spring to his feet and dash away, and on and on, for hours, through the forest aisles and across the open spaces where the niggerheads bunched. He loved to run down dry watercourses, and to creep and spy upon the bird life in the woods. For a day at a time he would lie in the underbrush where he could watch the partridges drumming and strutting up and down. But especially he loved to run in the dim twilight of the summer midnights, listening to the subdued and sleepy murmurs of the forest, reading signs and sounds as 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 manner that plainly showed he was going somewhere. He made it clear to Buck that he was to come, and they ran side by side through the sombre twilight, straight up the creek bed, into the gorge from which it issued, and across the bleak divide where it took its rise. On the opposite slope of the watershed they came down into a level country where were great stretches of forest and many streams, and through these great stretches they ran steadily, hour after hour, the sun rising higher and the day growing warmer. Buck was wildly glad. He knew he was at last answering the call, running by the side of his wood brother toward the place from where the call surely came. Old memories were coming upon him fast, and he was stirring to them as of old he stirred to the realities of which they were the shadows. He had done this thing before, somewhere in that other and dimly remembered world, and he was doing it again, now, running free in the open, the unpacked earth underfoot, the wide sky overhead. They stopped by a running stream to drink, and, stopping, Buck remembered John Thornton. He sat down. The wolf started on toward the place from where the call surely came, then returned to him, sniffing noses and making actions as though to encourage him. But Buck turned about and started slowly on the back track. For the better part of an hour the wild brother ran by his side, whining softly. Then he sat down, pointed his nose upward, and howled. It was a mournful howl, and as Buck held steadily on his way he heard it grow faint and fainter until it was lost in the distance. John Thornton was eating dinner when Buck dashed into camp and sprang upon him in a frenzy of affection, overturning him, scrambling upon him, licking his face, biting his hand—“playing the general tom-fool, ” as John Thornton characterized it, the while he shook Buck back and forth and cursed him lovingly. For two days and nights Buck never left camp, never let Thornton out of his sight. He followed him about at his work, watched him while he ate, saw him into his blankets at night and out of them in the morning. But after two days the call in the forest began to sound more imperiously than ever. Buck’s restlessness came back on him, and he was haunted by recollections of the wild brother, and of the smiling land beyond the divide and the run side by side through the wide forest stretches. Once again he took to wandering in the woods, but the wild brother came no more; and though he listened through long vigils, the mournful howl was never raised. He began to sleep out at night, staying away from camp for days at a time; and once he crossed the divide at the head of the creek and went down into the land of timber and streams. There he wandered for a week, seeking vainly for fresh sign of the wild brother, killing his meat as he travelled and travelling with the long, easy lope that seems never to tire. He fished for salmon in a broad stream that emptied somewhere into the sea, and by this stream he killed a large black bear, blinded by the mosquitoes while likewise fishing, and raging through the forest helpless and terrible. Even so, it was a hard fight, and it aroused the last latent remnants of Buck’s ferocity. And two days later, when he returned to his kill and found a dozen wolverenes quarrelling over the spoil, he scattered them like chaff; and those that fled left two behind who would quarrel no more. The blood-longing became stronger than ever before. He was a killer, a thing that preyed, living on the things that lived, unaided, alone, by virtue of his own strength and prowess, surviving triumphantly in a hostile environment where only the strong survived. Because of all this he became possessed of a great pride in himself, which communicated itself like a contagion to his physical being. It advertised itself in all his movements, was apparent in the play of every muscle, spoke plainly as speech in the way he carried himself, and made his glorious furry coat if anything more glorious. But for the stray brown on his muzzle and above his eyes, and for the splash of white hair that ran midmost down his chest, he might well have been mistaken for a gigantic wolf, larger than the largest of the breed. From his St. Bernard father he had inherited size and weight, but it was his shepherd mother who had given shape to that size and weight. His muzzle was the long wolf muzzle, save that it was larger than the muzzle of any wolf; and his head, somewhat broader, was the wolf head on a massive scale. His cunning was wolf cunning, and wild cunning; his intelligence, shepherd intelligence and St. Bernard intelligence; and all this, plus an experience gained in the fiercest of schools, made him as formidable a creature as any that roamed the wild. A carnivorous animal living on a straight meat diet, he was in full flower, at the high tide of his life, overspilling with vigor and virility. When Thornton passed a caressing hand along his back, a snapping and crackling followed the hand, each hair discharging its pent magnetism at the contact. Every part, brain and body, nerve tissue and fibre, was keyed to the most exquisite pitch; and between all the parts there was a perfect equilibrium or adjustment. To sights and sounds and events which required action, he responded with lightning-like rapidity. Quickly as a husky dog could leap to defend from attack or to attack, he could leap twice as quickly. He saw the movement, or heard sound, and responded in less time than another dog required to compass the mere seeing or hearing. He perceived and determined and responded in the same instant. In point of fact the three actions of perceiving, determining, and responding were sequential; but so infinitesimal were the intervals of time between them that they appeared simultaneous. His muscles were surcharged with vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel springs. Life streamed through him in splendid flood, glad and rampant, until it seemed that it would burst him asunder in sheer ecstasy and pour forth generously over the world. “Never was there such a dog, ” said John Thornton one day, as the partners watched Buck marching out of camp. “When he was made, the mould was broke, ” said Pete. “Py jingo! I t’ink so mineself, ” Hans affirmed. They saw him marching out of camp, but they did not see the instant and terrible transformation which took place as soon as he was within the secrecy of the forest. He no longer marched. At once he became a thing of the wild, stealing along softly, cat-footed, a passing shadow that appeared and disappeared among the shadows. He knew how to take advantage of every cover, to crawl on his belly like a snake, and like a snake to leap and strike. He could take a ptarmigan from its nest, kill a rabbit as it slept, and snap in mid air the little chipmunks fleeing a second too late for the trees. Fish, in open pools, were not too quick for him; nor were beaver, mending their dams, too wary. He killed to eat, not from wantonness; but he preferred to eat what he killed himself. So a lurking humor ran through his deeds, and it was his delight to steal upon the squirrels, and, when he all but had them, to let them go, chattering in mortal fear to the treetops. As the fall of the year came on, the moose appeared in greater abundance, moving slowly down to meet the winter in the lower and less rigorous valleys. Buck had already dragged down a stray part-grown calf; but he wished strongly for larger and more formidable quarry, and he came upon it one day on the divide at the head of the creek. A band of twenty moose had crossed over from the land of streams and timber, and chief among them was a great bull. He was in a savage temper, and, standing over six feet from the ground, was as formidable an antagonist as even Buck could desire. Back and forth the bull tossed his great palmated antlers, branching to fourteen points and embracing seven feet within the tips. His small eyes burned with a vicious and bitter light, while he roared with fury at sight of Buck. From the bull’s side, just forward of the flank, protruded a feathered arrow-end, which accounted for his savageness. Guided by that instinct which came from the old hunting days of the primordial world, Buck proceeded to cut the bull out from the herd. It was no slight task. He would bark and dance about in front of the bull, just out of reach of the great antlers and of the terrible splay hoofs which could have stamped his life out with a single blow. Unable to turn his back on the fanged danger and go on, the bull would be driven into paroxysms of rage. At such moments he charged Buck, who retreated craftily, luring him on by a simulated inability to escape. But when he was thus separated from his fellows, two or three of the younger bulls would charge back upon Buck and enable the wounded bull to rejoin the herd. There is a patience of the wild—dogged, tireless, persistent as life itself—that holds motionless for endless hours the spider in its web, the snake in its coils, the panther in its ambuscade; this patience belongs peculiarly to life when it hunts its living food; and it belonged to Buck as he clung to the flank of the herd, retarding its march, irritating the young bulls, worrying the cows with their half-grown calves, and driving the wounded bull mad with helpless rage. For half a day this continued. Buck multiplied himself, attacking from all sides, enveloping the herd in a whirlwind of menace, cutting out his victim as fast as it could rejoin its mates, wearing out the patience of creatures preyed upon, which is a lesser patience than that of creatures preying. As the day wore along and the sun dropped to its bed in the northwest (the darkness had come back and the fall nights were six hours long), the young bulls retraced their steps more and more reluctantly to the aid of their beset leader. The down-coming winter was harrying them on to the lower levels, and it seemed they could never shake off this tireless creature that held them back. Besides, it was not the life of the herd, or of the young bulls, that was threatened. The life of only one member was demanded, which was a remoter interest than their lives, and in the end they were content to pay the toll. As twilight fell the old bull stood with lowered head, watching his mates—the cows he had known, the calves he had fathered, the bulls he had mastered—as they shambled on at a rapid pace through the fading light. He could not follow, for before his nose leaped the merciless fanged terror that would not let him go. Three hundredweight more than half a ton he weighed; he had lived a long, strong life, full of fight and struggle, and at the end he faced death at the teeth of a creature whose head did not reach beyond his great knuckled knees. From then on, night and day, Buck never left his prey, never gave it a moment’s rest, never permitted it to browse the leaves of trees or the shoots of young birch and willow. Nor did he give the wounded bull opportunity to slake his burning thirst in the slender trickling streams they crossed. Often, in desperation, he burst into long stretches of flight. At such times Buck did not attempt to stay him, but loped easily at his heels, satisfied with the way the game was played, lying down when the moose stood still, attacking him fiercely when he strove to eat or drink. The great head drooped more and more under its tree of horns, and the shambling trot grew weak and weaker. He took to standing for long periods, with nose to the ground and dejected ears dropped limply; and Buck found more time in which to get water for himself and in which to rest. At such moments, panting with red lolling tongue and with eyes fixed upon the big bull, it appeared to Buck that a change was coming over the face of things. He could feel a new stir in the land. As the moose were coming into the land, other kinds of life were coming in. Forest and stream and air seemed palpitant with their presence. The news of it was borne in upon him, not by sight, or sound, or smell, but by some other and subtler sense. He heard nothing, saw nothing, yet knew that the land was somehow different; that through it strange things were afoot and ranging; and he resolved to investigate after he had finished the business in hand. At last, at the end of the fourth day, he pulled the great moose down. For a day and a night he remained by the kill, eating and sleeping, turn and turn about. Then, rested, refreshed and strong, he turned his face toward camp and John Thornton. He broke into the long easy lope, and went on, hour after hour, never at loss for the tangled way, heading straight home through strange country with a certitude of direction that put man and his magnetic needle to shame. As he held on he became more and more conscious of the new stir in the land. There was life abroad in it different from the life which had been there throughout the summer. No longer was this fact borne in upon him in some subtle, mysterious way. The birds talked of it, the squirrels chattered about it, the very breeze whispered of it. Several times he stopped and drew in the fresh morning air in great sniffs, reading a message which made him leap on with greater speed. He was oppressed with a sense of calamity happening, if it were not calamity already happened; and as he crossed the last watershed and dropped down into the valley toward camp, he proceeded with greater caution. Three miles away he came upon a fresh trail that sent his neck hair rippling and bristling, It led straight toward camp and John Thornton. Buck hurried on, swiftly and stealthily, every nerve straining and tense, alert to the multitudinous details which told a story—all but the end. His nose gave him a varying description of the passage of the life on the heels of which he was travelling. He remarked the pregnant silence of the forest. The bird life had flitted. The squirrels were in hiding. One only he saw, —a sleek gray fellow, flattened against a gray dead limb so that he seemed a part of it, a woody excrescence upon the wood itself. As Buck slid along with the obscureness of a gliding shadow, his nose was jerked suddenly to the side as though a positive force had gripped and pulled it. He followed the new scent into a thicket and found Nig. He was lying on his side, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow protruding, head and feathers, from either side of his body. A hundred yards farther on, Buck came upon one of the sled-dogs Thornton had bought in Dawson. This dog was thrashing about in a death-struggle, directly on the trail, and Buck passed around him without stopping. From the camp came the faint sound of many voices, rising and falling in a sing-song chant. Bellying forward to the edge of the clearing, he found Hans, lying on his face, feathered with arrows like a porcupine. At the same instant Buck peered out where the spruce-bough lodge had been and saw what made his hair leap straight up on his neck and shoulders. A gust of overpowering rage swept over him. He did not know that he growled, but he growled aloud with a terrible ferocity. For the last time in his life he allowed passion to usurp cunning and reason, and it was because of his great love for John Thornton that he lost his head. The Yeehats were dancing about the wreckage of the spruce-bough lodge when they heard a fearful roaring and saw rushing upon them an animal the like of which they had never seen before. It was Buck, a live hurricane of fury, hurling himself upon them in a frenzy to destroy. He sprang at the foremost man (it was the chief of the Yeehats), ripping the throat wide open till the rent jugular spouted a fountain of blood. He did not pause to worry the victim, but ripped in passing, with the next bound tearing wide the throat of a second man. There was no withstanding him. He plunged about in their very midst, tearing, rending, destroying, in constant and terrific motion which defied the arrows they discharged at him. In fact, so inconceivably rapid were his movements, and so closely were the Indians tangled together, that they shot one another with the arrows; and one young hunter, hurling a spear at Buck in mid air, drove it through the chest of another hunter with such force that the point broke through the skin of the back and stood out beyond. Then a panic seized the Yeehats, and they fled in terror to the woods, proclaiming as they fled the advent of the Evil Spirit. And truly Buck was the Fiend incarnate, raging at their heels and dragging them down like deer as they raced through the trees. It was a fateful day for the Yeehats. They scattered far and wide over the country, and it was not till a week later that the last of the survivors gathered together in a lower valley and counted their losses. As for Buck, wearying of the pursuit, he returned to the desolated camp. He found Pete where he had been killed in his blankets in the first moment of surprise. Thornton’s desperate struggle was fresh-written on the earth, and Buck scented every detail of it down to the edge of a deep pool. By the edge, head and fore feet in the water, lay Skeet, faithful to the last. The pool itself, muddy and discolored from the sluice boxes, effectually hid what it contained, and it contained John Thornton; for Buck followed his trace into the water, from which no trace led away. All day Buck brooded by the pool or roamed restlessly about the camp. Death, as a cessation of movement, as a passing out and away from the lives of the living, he knew, and he knew John Thornton was dead. It left a great void in him, somewhat akin to hunger, but a void which ached and ached, and which food could not fill, At times, when he paused to contemplate the carcasses of the Yeehats, he forgot the pain of it; and at such times he was aware of a great pride in himself, —a pride greater than any he had yet experienced. He had killed man, the noblest game of all, and he had killed in the face of the law of club and fang. He sniffed the bodies curiously. They had died so easily. It was harder to kill a husky dog than them. They were no match at all, were it not for their arrows and spears and clubs. Thenceforward he would be unafraid of them except when they bore in their hands their arrows, spears, and clubs. Night came on, and a full moon rose high over the trees into the sky, lighting the land till it lay bathed in ghostly day. And with the coming of the night, brooding and mourning by the pool, Buck became alive to a stirring of the new life in the forest other than that which the Yeehats had made, He stood up, listening and scenting. From far away drifted a faint, sharp yelp, followed by a chorus of similar sharp yelps. As the moments passed the yelps grew closer and louder. Again Buck knew them as things heard in that other world which persisted in his memory. He walked to the centre of the open space and listened. It was the call, the many-noted call, sounding more luringly and compellingly than ever before. And as never before, he was ready to obey. John Thornton was dead. The last tie was broken. Man and the claims of man no longer bound him. Hunting their living meat, as the Yeehats were hunting it, on the flanks of the migrating moose, the wolf pack had at last crossed over from the land of streams and timber and invaded Buck’s valley. Into the clearing where the moonlight streamed, they poured in a silvery flood; and in the centre of the clearing stood Buck, motionless as a statue, waiting their coming. They were awed, so still and large he stood, and a moment’s pause fell, till the boldest one leaped straight for him. Like a flash Buck struck, breaking the neck. Then he stood, without movement, as before, the stricken wolf rolling in agony behind him. Three others tried it in sharp succession; and one after the other they drew back, streaming blood from slashed throats or shoulders. This was sufficient to fling the whole pack forward, pell-mell, crowded together, blocked and confused by its eagerness to pull down the prey. Buck’s marvellous quickness and agility stood him in good stead. Pivoting on his hind legs, and snapping and gashing, he was everywhere at once, presenting a front which was apparently unbroken so swiftly did he whirl and guard from side to side. But to prevent them from getting behind him, he was forced back, down past the pool and into the creek bed, till he brought up against a high gravel bank. He worked along to a right angle in the bank which the men had made in the course of mining, and in this angle he came to bay, protected on three sides and with nothing to do but face the front. And so well did he face it, that at the end of half an hour the wolves drew back discomfited. The tongues of all were out and lolling, the white fangs showing cruelly white in the moonlight. Some were lying down with heads raised and ears pricked forward; others stood on their feet, watching him; and still others were lapping water from the pool. One wolf, long and lean and gray, advanced cautiously, in a friendly manner, and Buck recognized the wild brother with whom he had run for a night and a day. He was whining softly, and, as Buck whined, they touched noses. Then an old wolf, gaunt and battle-scarred, came forward. Buck writhed his lips into the preliminary of a snarl, but sniffed noses with him, Whereupon the old wolf sat down, pointed nose at the moon, and broke out the long wolf howl. The others sat down and howled. And now the call came to Buck in unmistakable accents. He, too, sat down and howled. This over, he came out of his angle and the pack crowded around him, sniffing in half-friendly, half-savage manner. The leaders lifted the yelp of the pack and sprang away into the woods. The wolves swung in behind, yelping in chorus. And Buck ran with them, side by side with the wild brother, yelping as he ran. And here may well end the story of Buck. The years were not many when the Yeehats noted a change in the breed of timber wolves; for some were seen with splashes of brown on head and muzzle, and with a rift of white centring down the chest. But more remarkable than this, the Yeehats tell of a Ghost Dog that runs at the head of the pack. They are afraid of this Ghost Dog, for it has cunning greater than they, stealing from their camps in fierce winters, robbing their traps, slaying their dogs, and defying their bravest hunters. Nay, the tale grows worse. Hunters there are who fail to return to the camp, and hunters there have been whom their tribesmen found with throats slashed cruelly open and with wolf prints about them in the snow greater than the prints of any wolf. Each fall, when the Yeehats follow the movement of the moose, there is a certain valley which they never enter. And women there are who become sad when the word goes over the fire of how the Evil Spirit came to select that valley for an abiding-place. In the summers there is one visitor, however, to that valley, of which the Yeehats do not know. It is a great, gloriously coated wolf, like, and yet unlike, all other wolves. He crosses alone from the smiling timber land and comes down into an open space among the trees. Here a yellow stream flows from rotted moose-hide sacks and sinks into the ground, with long grasses growing through it and vegetable mould overrunning it and hiding its yellow from the sun; and here he muses for a time, howling once, long and mournfully, ere he departs. But he is not always alone. When the long winter nights come on and the wolves follow their meat into the lower valleys, he may be seen running at the head of the pack through the pale moonlight or glimmering borealis, leaping gigantic above his fellows, his great throat a-bellow as he sings a song of the younger world, which is the song of the pack. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Call of the Wild, by Jack London *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CALL OF THE WILD *** ***** This file should be named or ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. Creating the works from print editions not protected by U. S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you! ) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Nam chính. mất hứng xem. Đề bài: Phân tích đoạn trích Con chó Bấc trong Tiếng gọi nơi hoang dã của Giắc Lân-đơn Mở bài Phân tích đoạn trích Con chó Bấc trong Tiếng gọi nơi hoang dã của Giắc Lân-đơn Giắc Lân-đơn (1876 – 1916) là nhà văn Mĩ, tên thật là Giôn Gri-phit Lân-đơn, sinh ở bang San Phran-xi-xcô. Ông trải qua thời kì thơ ấu rất vất vả, từng phải làm nhiều nghề để kiếm sống. Lân-đơn bắt đầu sự nghiệp sáng tác bằng những truyện ngắn đăng trên một tờ báo của sinh viên. Thời kì phát triển cao nhất trong sự nghiệp sáng tác của ông là vào đầu thế kỉ XX. Thân bài Phân tích đoạn trích Con chó Bấc trong Tiếng gọi nơi hoang dã của Giắc Lân-đơn Tiếng gọi nơi hoang dã (1903) là tiểu thuyết ra mắt bạn đọc sau khi ông đi theo những người tìm vàng đến miền Clân-đai-cơ trở về. Con chó Bấc là một đoạn trích trong cuốn tiểu thuyết đó. Tác phẩm kể về Bấc, một con chó bị bắt cóc đưa lên vùng Bắc cực để kéo xe trượt tuyết cho những người đi tìm vàng. Bấc đã qua tay nhiều ông chủ độc ác. Chỉ riêng Giôn Thoóc-tơn là người đã có lòng nhân từ dối với nó. Sau khi Thoóc-tơn chết, nó rời bỏ con người, đi theo tiếng gọi nơi hoang dã và trở thành một con chó hoang. Trong đoạn trích, nhà văn Lân-đơn đã có những nhận xét tinh tế và trí tưởng tượng tuyệt vời khi đi sâu vào đời sống “tâm hồn” của con chó Bấc, đồng thời bộc lộ tình cảm yêu thương của mình đối với loài vật. Bài văn được chia làm ba phần. Phần một. Từ đầu đến… mói khơi dậy lên được: Quan hệ của Bấc đối với gia đình chủ cũ. Phần hai. Tiếp đến… hầu như biết nói đấy! Tình cảm yêu mên của Thoóe-tơn đối với Bấc. Phần ba. Đoạn còn lại: Tình cảm gắn bó của Bấc đối với Thoóc-tơn, Qua cách miêu tả và kể chuyện, ta thấy nhà văn chủ yếu muốn thể hiện lòng biết ơn và tình cảm yêu thương của con chó Bấc đối với người chủ giàu lòng nhân ái. Ở đoạn thứ nhất, tác giả kể về quan hệ của con chó Bấc đối với gia đình thẩm phán Mi-lơ là chủ để lấy đó làm cơ sở so sánh tình cảm của Bấc đối với Thoóc-tơn: Với những cậu con trai của ông Thẩm, trong những buổi đi săn hoặc đi lang thang đây đó, tình cảm ấy chỉ là chuyện làm ăn cùng hội cùng phường; với những đứa cháu nhỏ của ông Thẩm, là trách nhiệm ra oai hộ vệ. Còn đối với bản thân ông Thẩm, đó là thứ tình bạn trịnh trọng và đường hoàng. Mức độ tình cảm của Bấc đối với Thoóc-tơn lại hoàn toàn khác những tình thương yêu sôi nổi, nồng cháy, thương yêu đến tôn thờ, thương yêu đến cuồng nhiệt thì phải đến Giôn Thoóc-tơn mới khơi dậy lên được. Với con chó Bấc thì Giôn Thoóc-tơn là một ông chủ lí tưởng: Các ông chủ trước chăm sóc nó chỉ là vì nghĩa vụ và lợi ích kinh doanh (trông nhà hoặc kéo xe trượt tuyết để đi tìm vàng) chứ không thực sự yêu thương nó. Trước hết, ta hãy xem tình cảm của Thoóc-tơn đôi với con chó Bấc. Thoóc-tơn đối xử với bầy chó của anh như thể chúng là con cái của anh vậy. Riêng đối với Bấc, trong ý nghĩ và trong tình cảm, dường như anh không coi nó chỉ là một con chó, mà còn là một người bạn thân thiết: Con người này đã cứu sống nó đó là một lẽ; nhưng hơn thế nữa, anh là một ông chủ lí tưởng. Những người khác chăm nom chó của họ xuất phát từ ý thức về nghĩa vụ và về lợi ích kinh doanh; còn anh chăm sóc chó của mình như thể chúng là con cái của anh vậy, bởi vì anh không thể nào không chăm sóc. Và anh còn chăm sóc nhiều hơn nữa kia. Anh không bao giờ quên chào hỏi thân mật hoặc nói lời vui vẻ và ngồi xuống chuyện trò lâu với chúng (mà anh gọi là (tầm phào), điều mà cả anh và chúng đều thích thú. Anh có thói quen dùng hai bàn tay túm chặt lấy đầu Bấc rồi dựa đầu anh vào đầu nó, hoặc lắc nó đẩy tới đẩy lui, vừa lắc vừa khe khẽ thốt lên những tiếng rủa mà đối với Bấc lại là những lời nói nựng âu yếm. Bấc thấy không có gì vui sướng bằng cái ôm ghì mạnh mẽ ấy và những tiếng rửa rú ri bên tai ấy và theo mỗi cái lắc đẩy tới đẩy lui, nó lại tưởng chừng như quả tim mình nhảy tung ra khỏi ca thể vì quá ngây ngất. Và khi được buông ra, nó bật vùng dậy trên hai chân, miệng cười, mắt long lanh, họng rung lên những âm thanh không thốt nên lời, và cứ như vậy trong tư thế đứng yên bất động… Tình cảm của Thoóc-tơn biểu hiện rõ rệt nhất khi anh kêu lên, trân trọng: Trời đất! Đằng ấy hình như biết nói đấy! Anh coi Bấc như một người bạn tri âm, tri kỉ. Trong đoạn văn này, mục đích chủ yếu của Lân-đơn là tập trung miêu tả những biểu hiện tình cảm của con chó Bấc. Trước đó, nhà văn kể về tình cảm của Thoóc-tơn đối với bầy chó của anh nói chung và đối với con chó Bấc nói riêng, nhằm nhấn mạnh tình cảm đặc biệt mà con chó Bấc dành cho anh. Không phải đối với bất cứ ông chủ nào con chó Bấc cũng yêu quý như với Thoóc-tơn vì Bấc đã qua tay nhiều ông chủ độc ác, chỉ riêng Thoóc- tơn là có lòng nhân từ với nó. Đọc những dòng miêu tả Bấc, chúng ta sẽ thấy tài quan sát và sự hiểu biết của nhà văn đối với loài chó: Bấc có cái tài biểu lộ tình thương yêu gần giống như làm đau người ta. Nó thường hay há miệng ra cán lấy bàn tay Thoóc-tơn rồi ép răng xuống mạnh đến nỗi vết răng hằn vào da thịt một lúc lâu. Và cùng như Bấc hiểu các tiếng rủa là những lời nói nựng, con người cũng hiểu cái cắn vờ ấy là cử chỉ vuốt ve. Lân-đơn có những nhận xét tinh tế, tỉ mỉ khi miêu tả từng con chó trong bầy chó kéo xe. Những biểu hiện tình cảm của chúng là đặc điểm chung của loài chó nhưng nhà văn chú trọng đến nét riêng của mỗi con để làm nổi bật nét khác biệt của Bấc so với những con chó khác trong bầy. Bấc có tình cảm đặc biệt đối với Thoóc-tơn. Có lúc nó bày tỏ thái độ âu yếm qua những cái cắn vờ hoặc theo sát Thoóc-tơn không rời một bước: Tuy nhiên, tình thương yêu của Bấc phần lớn được diễn đạt bằng sự tôn thờ. Mặc dù nó sung sướng đến cuồng lên mỗi khi Thoóc-tơn chạm vào nó hoặc nói chuyện với nó, nhưng nó không săn dồn những biểu hiện ấy. Khác với cô ả Xơ-kít có thói quen thọc cái mũi của nó vào dưới bàn tay của Thooc-tơn rồi hích, hích mãi cho đến khi được vỗ về, cũng khác với Ních thường chồm lên tì cái đầu to tướng của cu cậu lên đầu gối của Thoóc-tơn, Bấc chỉ tôn thờ ở xa xa một quãng. Nó thường nằm phục ở chân Thoóc-tơn hằng giờ, mắt háo hức, tỉnh táo, ngước nhìn lên mặt anh, chăm chú xem xét, hết sức quan tâm theo dõi từng biểu hiện thoáng qua, mọi cử động hoặc thay đổi trên nét mặt. Hoặc cũng có lúc nằm ra xa hơn, về một bên hoặc đằng sau anh, quan sát hình dáng của anh và từng cử động của thân thể anh. Và thường thường, như mối giao cảm giữa họ với nhau, sức mạnh ánh mắt của Bấc làm cho Giôn Thoóc-tơn quay đầu sang và nhìn lại nó, không nói năng gì, đôi mắt anh tỏa rạng tình cảm tự đáy lòng, trong khi tình cảm của Bấc ngời ánh lên qua đôi mắt nó tỏa rạng ra ngoài. Tình cảm của con chó Bấc được tác giả miêu tả cụ thể và tinh tế. Nhà văn không nhân cách hóa con chó Bấc theo kiểu của La Phông-ten trong thơ ngụ ngôn. Lúc muốn bày tỏ tình cảm với chủ, họng nó chỉ rung lên những âm thanh không thốt nên lời… Thoóc-tơn cảm thấy Bấc hầu như biết nói và anh thấu hiểu thế giới tâm hồn phong phú của nó: Trước kia, nó chưa hề cảm thấy một tình thương yêu như vậy…, Bấc thấy không có gì vui sướng bằng cái ôm ghì mạnh mẽ ấy…, nó lại tưởng chừng như quả tim mình nhảy tung ra khỏi lồng ngực… Nhà văn kể rằng: Một thời gian dài sau khi được cứu sống, Bấc không muốn rời Thoóc-tơn một bước. Từ lúc anh ra khỏi lều cho đến lúc anh quay trở về, Bấc luôn bám theo gót chân anh. 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Gretel & Hansel Watch Full Length Torrent PutLocker imdb id tt9086228





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Bio Οδηγός Διασκέδασης και Δικτύωσης με φίλους

Thriller, Horror
Country Canada
year 2020
director Oz Perkins
Description Gretel & Hansel is a movie starring Sophia Lillis, Samuel Leakey, and Charles Babalola. A long time ago in a distant fairy tale countryside, a young girl leads her little brother into a dark wood in desperate search of food and
star Alice Krige, Samuel Leakey

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Gretel & Hansel Reviews Movie Reviews By Reviewer Type All Critics Top Critics All Audience Verified Audience Page 1 of 4 February 14, 2020 The film thrives within a dream-logic vibe, especially in Olivares' cinematography, with its heavy emphasis on symmetrical framing, stark contast and lush use of yellows and blues, evoking subliminal terror. February 11, 2020 A beautiful new arthouse spin on the classic fairytale, this is the first true good horror movie of the new decade February 9, 2020 The thick, woodsy production design, the very unsettling fairy tale unreality, and Alice Krige's terrific performance are pretty gratifying. February 8, 2020 Gretel & Hansel is thematically muddled and sluggish, often relying on the splendid production design and score to push things along. It's easy to see what it's trying to accomplish, but the end result feels both disappointing and a tad derivative. Stretching the Grimm tale out to feature length required both some padding and a deliberate pace, but there's lots of macabre imagination on display in the picture, and a bit of heart to balance the darkness. February 7, 2020 Gretel and Hansel' is a bizarre and dark version for sure, but also a bit self-serving on the part of the director. Hidden within it all, gorgeous cinematography. February 6, 2020 Atmosphere is to horror what ingredients are to stew. Without it, audiences would have nothing to chew on, so it's a good thing Gretel & Hansel, the latest adaptation of the Brothers Grimm fairy tale, is a feast for the eyes. Gretel & Hansel is a trippy twist on Grimm that might have been more effective as a short than a feature, given its relative paucity of plot and world building. But it's bracing to see such an odd film on the big screen. [F]or every challenging, provocative moment, there's another bit of formulaic boilerplate. The result is a movie that is wildly uneven and never settles into any kind of real groove. February 5, 2020 This strange, austere, artful, violent retelling of the old fairy tale is one of those movies that's more moody than scary. It won't be to every taste, but it's weirdly poetic and mesmerizing. Gretel and Hansel is an eerily effective slow burn that utilizes the tropes of horror to weave a densely layered coming-of-age fairy tale. Gretel & Hansel comes off as a failed but honest attempt to do something new with a well-worn fairy tale - a gorgeous piece of art coupled with an interesting idea that just doesn't quite work. I February 4, 2020 A Halloween-night psilocybin trip squirming with mythic symbolism. It may flirt with disenfranchisement and female empowerment, but it doesn't have anything to really say about them. Femininity, seen as both a curse and a gift, is the driving force in a film rich with symbolism and foreboding atmosphere Gretel & Hansel has a decent story with a good cast, but an incessantly dark atmosphere makes it a tough film to watch. February 3, 2020 Hits all the D's - dark, dreary and dull. Feels right at home amongst the work of such Italian masters as (Dario) Argento and Mario Bava, whose films often felt like they took place inside a nightmare where plot didn't matter so much as atmosphere and mood. This is Young Adult horror at its finest. Page 1 of 4.
I Watched Gretel & Hansel at a Spooky Mansion with Director Oz Perkins and It Was Wicked Jan 31, 2020 Director Oz Perkins Gretel & Hansel is an effective fairytale horror that works even better in a spooky old house. Director Oz Perkins Talks Being Faithful to the Fairytale in Gretel & Hansel [Exclusive] Ryan Scott Jan 30, 2020 We chat with director Oz Perkins about his new movie Gretel & Hansel and much more in our exclusive interview. Will Gretel & Hansel or The Rhythm Section Be Able to Break Out at the Box Office? Ryan Scott Jan 29, 2020 Paramount's The Rhythm Section and Orion's Gretel & Hansel both open at the box office this weekend. Gretel & Hansel Director Would Be Thrilled to Do a Friday the 13th Reboot Jeremy Dick Jan 28, 2020 There's no telling who will be the one to make the next Friday the 13th, but Oz Perkins is throwing his name into the hat. Gretel & Hansel Trailer #2 Traps Sophia Lillis in a Wicked Fairytale Ryan Scott Jan 2, 2020 Orion Pictures has released a new full-length trailer for Gretel & Hansel which puts a dark spin on an old classic. 7 New Movies in Theaters You Can't Miss in January Evan Jacobs Dec 26, 2019 There are several new movies coming in the first month of 2020 making it a can't miss month at the theater. Gretel & Hansel Trailer: Grimm Fairy Tale Gets Twisted with IT Star Sophia Lillis Kevin Burwick Sep 4, 2019 Orion Pictures has released a new trailer for their upcoming horror movie Gretel & Hansel, which stars Sophia Lillis. Gretel & Hansel First Look at IT Star Sophia Lillis in Dark Fairy Tale B. Alan Orange Aug 26, 2019 Gretel and Hansel puts a twist on the classic fairytale this January from Orion Pictures. Gretel and Hansel Starring Sophia Lillis Gets a 2020 Release Date Kevin Burwick Apr 17, 2019 The Brothers Grimm reimagining is set to star IT actress Sophia Lillis and Sammy Leakey. Hansel and Gretel Horror Movie Begins Shooting with IT Star Sophia Lillis Jeremy Dick Nov 11, 2018 After rising to stardom with her role in Andy Muschietti's IT, Sophia Lillis will next headline a horror retelling of Hansel and Gretel.
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Gretel & hansel watch full length song. Это сказка о брате и сестре, которые ушли в лес, ослушавшись родителей. Гензель и Гретель заблудились в запретном лесу и случайно вышли к домику, сделанному из конфет и печенья. Но оказалось, что в нем живет злая колдунья Гризельда. Она хочет заворожить их и оставить у себя навсегда. Брат и сестра должны найти способ убежать от колдуньи. Трейлеры Знаете ли вы, что... Фильм снят по мотивам сказки братьев Гримм «Гензель и Гретель» (Hänsel und Gretel, 1812). Знаете похожие фильмы? Порекомендуйте их... Порекомендуйте фильмы, похожие на « » по жанру, сюжету, создателям и т. д. * внимание! система не позволяет рекомендовать к фильму сиквелы / приквелы — не пытайтесь их искать Отзывы и рецензии зрителей Добавить рецензию... Все: 1 Положительные: 1 Отрицательные: 0 Процент: 100% Нейтральные: 0 Хорошая добрая сказка. Немного наивная, но красивая. Кто из нас не мечтал о сладком домике, где всё от крыши до дверей съедобное. Гензель и гретель как раз и попали в такой домик. Но счастье длилось не долго. Оказалось, что такое прелестное место-жилище злой ведьмы Гризельды. Теперь им придётся спасаться, а иначе они станут ужином для колдуньи. Очень милые актёры, сыгравшие Гензеля и Гретель. Ну а уж про ведьму вообще молчу, думаю, все именно так себе злых ведьм и представляют… Лохматая… с тощими руками и длинными ногтямии страшным лицом, плюс гнилые зубы. Она умеет колдовать, но есть у неё и секрет, зная который, можно победить колдунью. Этим и воспользовались маленькие, но храбрые брат и сестра. Фильм для семейного просмотра. Уделите время, не пожалеете. Моя оценка 10 из 10. прямая ссылка Полезная рецензия? пожаловаться на спойлер? Да / Нет 5 / 1 8 ноября 2009 | 21:02.

Released January 31, 2020 PG-13, 1 hr 27 min Horror Tell us where you are Looking for movie tickets? Enter your location to see which movie theaters are playing Gretel & Hansel near you. ENTER CITY, STATE OR ZIP CODE GO Sign up for a FANALERT® and be the first to know when tickets and other exclusives are available in your area. Also sign me up for FanMail to get updates on all things movies: tickets, special offers, screenings + more. Gretel & Hansel: Trailer 2 1 of 3 Gretel & Hansel Synopsis A long time ago in a distant fairytale countryside, a young girl (Sophia Lillis, It) leads her little brother (Sammy Leakey) into a dark wood in desperate search of food and work, only to stumble upon a nexus of terrifying evil. Read Full Synopsis Movie Reviews Presented by Rotten Tomatoes.

The Brothers Grimm were aptly named: fairy tales like “Hansel and Gretel, ” about a destitute couple dying of famine, who abandon their children in the woods to save their own lives, are already scary before a big, bad child-eater comes along. But sure enough, those poor children wander into the ever-so-tempting gingerbread house of a magical witch, who thoroughly intends to devour young Hansel, luring poor Gretel into helping prepare the meal. Transforming “Hansel and Gretel” into a horror movie is hardly a cognitive leap, and it’s been done before, but perhaps never as stylishly and intelligently as in Osgood “Oz” Perkins’ “Gretel & Hansel. ” The latest film from the horror auteur  (The Blackcoat’s Daughter, ” “I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House”) is full of severe production design and sensitive characterizations, and unsettling ideas about where fairy tales — and in particular, tales of villainous witches — come from in the first place. “Gretel and Hansel” stars Sophia Lillis (“It”) as Gretel, a teenager with only two options, as far as she can tell: She can be mistreated by men, or she can die of famine along with her mother and brother. When her mother finds out Gretel has chosen the latter, she takes an axe to the dining room table, sending Gretel and Hansel (Sammy Leaky, “MotherFatherSon”) into the woods to fend for themselves. Also Read: 'The Rhythm Section' Arrives During Super Bowl Slump Weekend for Box Office It’s not a straight line to the witch’s house. Along the way, Gretel and Hansel encounter strange mutations and at least one character who seems to have stopped by on their way to another fairy tale altogether. The woods aren’t verdant; they’re arid and skeletal. This is no world for young children and young women, because, as Gretel and Hansel learn, their best hope is to find the young boy a job doing punishing labor and, for Gretel, some sort of husband. Perkins and screenwriter Rob Hayes stretch the seemingly simple story of “Hansel and Gretel” apart like taffy, keeping the whole piece intact but giving us all the more opportunity to savor the experience. The director’s approach to the woodland sequences, rife with introspective voice-overs and dreamy montage, calls to mind a Terrence Malick movie on ‘shrooms; the interconnectivity between humanity and nature isn’t necessarily inspirational, and Gretel and Hansel’s presence amongst the trees only highlights their isolation. Watch Video: Watch Tim Burton's Long-Lost 'Hansel and Gretel' Film From 1983 So it’s a bit of a relief when they discover, nestled amongst the foliage, a very swank-looking house, with a triangular construction that completely undermines any sense of architectural consistency with the rest of Perkins’ film. It is not, it’s worth noting, made of gingerbread, but it is full of food: a whole smorgasbord has been laid out in the dining room, nothing suspicious about that, especially not when the owner of the mysterious domicile — Holda (Alice Krige) — invites them to stay, and eat their fill, and escape the seemingly hopeless world outside her doors. The second half of “Gretel & Hansel” is a creepy saga of temptation and empowerment, as Gretel finds herself repulsed but encouraged by Holda to embrace the inner strengths that everybody else told her were weaknesses. Who cares if the vast buffets of food she prepares every night seemingly come from nowhere, since she has no livestock or farmland to speak of? Who cares if Hansel is increasingly uncomfortable, and starting to hear voices? What if, in this ethereal arthouse piece of ghoulishness, Gretel actually wants to help the witch in the kitchen? It’s easy to get swept up in the bracing, pointed style of “Gretel & Hansel. ” Galo Olivares, the camera operator and “cinematography collaborator” behind “Roma, ” frames the action amidst chilly landscapes and inside weird geometric buildings, keeping the audience perpetually off-guard. The witch’s house could be small and could be enormous, and the basement — let’s not think about the basement, except to say that production designer Jeremy Reed (“I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House”) and art director Christine McDonagh (“Into the Badlands”) have followed Perkins’ stark aesthetic interests to a logical, striking, grotesque conclusion. See Photos: 'The Grudge' US Movie Franchise, Ranked Worst to Best But the distinctive imagery of “Gretel & Hansel” all serves a single purpose: to put Gretel — played with plaintive power by Lillis, accepting her responsibilities for her brother even as her resentment and personal needs gradually overwhelm her — in a position where sacrificing morality for safety is a logical, even nurturing choice. Krige has the allure of wisdom in her performance, an undeniable power that stems from strength and experience, and unlike many movie villains, her rationalizations seem relatively rational based on what Perkins has shown us about Gretel’s options. Grotesque and wicked, no doubt, but arguably rational. As a fantasy, “Gretel & Hansel” is a delectably smart concoction, thoughtfully reevaluating the original tale, adding all-new layers of the ominous, and yet also keeping the story rooted in an amorphous, fairy tale past. As a horror movie, Perkins’ movie relies more on disquietude than external threat, and demands a thoughtful audience’s mental energies instead of a rowdy audience’s popcorn-spilling flinches. It’s got “cult movie” written all over it in strawberry jam, which probably isn’t actually strawberry jam, and audiences who tune into its unusual wavelength will no doubt be grateful for such a beautiful, frightening, intelligent new venture into an age-old nightmare. The 9 Most Divisive Horror Films of the Decade, From 'Human Centipede' to 'mother! ' (Photos) Some films were so disgusting and repulsive that they had to be banned in various countries How many of these horror films have you seen?

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Gretel & hansel watch full length video. Learn more More Like This Drama | Fantasy 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 6. 6 / 10 X Lost on a mysterious island where aging and time have come unglued, Wendy must fight to save her family, her freedom, and the joyous spirit of youth from the deadly peril of growing up. Director: Benh Zeitlin Stars: Yashua Mack, Devin France, Gage Naquin 6 / 10 A searing look at a day in the life of an assistant to a powerful executive. As Jane (Julia Garner) follows her daily routine, she grows increasingly aware of the insidious abuse that threatens every aspect of her position. Kitty Green Julia Garner, Matthew Macfadyen, Makenzie Leigh Horror Mystery 3. 7 / 10 A young governess is hired by a man who has become responsible for his young nephew and niece after their parents' deaths. A modern take on Henry James' novella "The Turn of the Screw. " Floria Sigismondi Mackenzie Davis, Finn Wolfhard, Brooklynn Prince Action 5. 5 / 10 A woman seeks revenge against those who orchestrated a plane crash that killed her family. Reed Morano Blake Lively, Jude Law, Sterling K. Brown Adventure History A group of officers of the Russian Imperial Guard prepare a revolt in December 1825, when about 3, 000 officers and soldiers refused to swear allegiance to the new tsar. Andrey Kravchuk Sergei Agafonov, Yuriy Baturin, Klim Berdinskiy Biography Sport 6. 3 / 10 An ordinary working class boy, like all his peers, he played football day and night and dreamed of being a striker. But no matter which team he played for - in the yard, at the factory, or in the army - he was inevitably put in goal. Vasiliy Chiginskiy Aleksandr Fokin, Yuliya Khlynina, Aleksey Guskov Sci-Fi Thriller No meteorites hit Earth, no terrorists put the world in danger, no atomic war was started, but something did go wrong. Contact between most towns on Earth has been severed. A small... See full summary  » Egor Baranov Maksim Artamonov, Filipp Avdeev, Yuriy Borisov Ilya Kulikov Sergey Burunov, Yevgeniy Kartashov, Sofya Kashtanova The catastrophe turned the girl's life from Chertanovo and forever changed our view of the universe after the fall of the alien ship. But mankind does not yet know that very soon he will have to experience a new meeting. Fedor Bondarchuk Oleg Badyu, Konstantin Bogomolov, 7. 8 / 10 The year 1910, before revolution in Russian Empire. The gold miner from Yekaterinburg, Nikolai Kamenev makes the profitable deal with Bulgarian manufacturer Dimitar Yvovich, with the... See full summary  » Lyudmila Tomilova Valentina Sizonenko, Artem Potapov, Mariya Yasnaya 6. 7 / 10 A soon-to-be stepmom is snowed in with her fiancé's two children at a remote holiday village. Just as relations begin to thaw between the trio, some strange and frightening events take place. Directors: Severin Fiala, Veronika Franz Richard Armitage, Riley Keough, Alicia Silverstone 5. 8 / 10 A young officer, Ivan Demarin, is sent to the depths of Siberia. Here Ivan meets his first love and, together with his regiment, finds himself drawn into a conspiracy by local princes, who are hunting for Yarkand's gold. Igor Zaytsev Andrey Burkovskiy, Erkebulan Dairov, Evgeniy Dyatlov Edit Storyline A long time ago in a distant fairy tale countryside, a young girl leads her little brother into a dark wood in desperate search of food and work, only to stumble upon a nexus of terrifying evil. Plot Summary Add Synopsis Taglines: A grim fairy tale. Motion Picture Rating ( MPAA) Rated PG-13 for disturbing images/thematic content, and brief drug material See all certifications  » Details Release Date: 31 January 2020 (USA) See more  » Also Known As: Gretel & Hansel Box Office Opening Weekend USA: $6, 050, 830, 2 February 2020 Cumulative Worldwide Gross: $6, 050, 830 See more on IMDbPro  » Company Credits Technical Specs See full technical specs  » Did You Know? Trivia At one point a song floats over the soundtrack: "My mother, she killed me, my father, he ate me, what a pretty bird am I! " This comes from another Grimm fairy tale, "The Juniper Tree, " which this film borrows some thematic elements from See more ».

Gretel & hansel watch full length 2. Are you going to Review Sonic The Hedgehog (2020. In director Osgood Perkins’ gorgeous third horror film, flipping the names in the traditional title to “Gretel & Hansel” is no coincidence, and there’s little question of who is deserving of more prominence. The older sister Gretel ( Sophia Lillis) isn’t just given the larger role of the two siblings; instead, this retelling of the fairy tale elevates the concept of female power to one of its primary themes, illuminating the abilities of not only the witch but also a girl on the cusp of womanhood. Along with writer Rob Hayes, Perkins turns a familiar story that is traditionally told in a few pages into one that stretches to feature length. “Gretel & Hansel” begins with a story within the story, folklore about a girl in a pink cap with supernatural abilities and an evil nature, setting the stage for Gretel’s own narrative that’s grim — and Grimm. However, even those who know the classic by heart will find a few surprises here, particularly around its modern feminist ideas. Unfortunately, its themes are muddled, making the audience wonder whether the male director and screenwriter find female power irretrievably tainted with a slick of evil. Gretel and her brother Hansel (Sammy Leakey) live in a time and place of pestilence and poverty. Unable to care for them, their mother turns the children out, directing them through the woods to a convent that will hopefully take them in. But Gretel and Hansel take detours that find them seeing silhouettes in the trees, conversing with mushrooms and, finally, happening upon the home of an old woman, Holda ( Alice Krige). Driven by a growling hunger and the sight of a spread on the table, Hansel breaks in but soon discovers that the home’s owner is all too happy for their company. The children gorge themselves, but Gretel begins to question their host’s motives as secrets lurk behind the walls and beneath the floorboards of Holda’s A-frame home, which looks like an Airbnb chosen by a goth influencer. Between the production design of Jeremy Reed and the cinematography of Galo Olivares, “Gretel &Hansel” is a visual wonder. Perkins’ previous films, “The Blackcoat’s Daughter” and “I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House, ” were elegantly crafted, but this looks like a work of art. The architecture and set design give the film a German Expressionist bent, with stained glass windows and dark wood that absorbs the candlelight and creates abundant shadows. Each frame is composed so thoughtfully that you’re more likely to lose your breath due to the movie’s beauty rather than its horrors. As with his first two movies, Perkins is less concerned with terrorizing the audience and instead wants to leave them unsettled as he slowly moves toward the final scene. “Gretel & Hansel” is quietly and perfectly eerie, moving with a languorous grace that might put horror fans of jump scares to sleep. Meanwhile, Hayes’ dialogue perhaps intends to sound like poetry written for children, but its simplicity and the actors’ delivery often make scenes fall flat. “Gretel & Hansel” is Perkins’ biggest film to date, and it cements a filmmaker in full possession of a visual prowess that few others with far longer filmographies can claim. But while he offers a stunning feast for the eyes, the substance is likely to leave viewers still hungry. ‘Gretel & Hansel’ Rating: PG-13, for disturbing images/thematic content, and brief drug material Running time: 1 hour, 27 minutes Playing: Starts Jan. 31 in general release

Gretel & hansel watch full length film. " Hansel and Gretel " (; also known as "Hansel and Grettel", "Hansel and Grethel", or "Little Brother and Little Sister"; German: Hänsel und Gret ( h) el [a] [ˈhɛnzl̩ ʔʊnt ˈɡʁeːtl̩]) is a well-known German fairy tale recorded by the Brothers Grimm and published in 1812. Hansel and Gretel are a young brother and sister kidnapped by a cannibalistic witch living in a forest in a house constructed of gingerbread, cake, confection, candy, and many other treats. The two children escape with their lives by outwitting her. The tale has been adapted to various media, most notably the opera Hänsel und Gretel (1893) by Engelbert Humperdinck. "Hansel and Gretel" is classified under Class 327А of the Aarne–Thompson classification system. A similar fairytale from Hungary is called Cerceruska. Plot [ edit] The story is set in medieval Germany. Hansel and Gretel are the children of a poor woodcutter. When a famine settles over the land, the woodcutter's wife (stepmother to Hansel and Gretel) decides to take the children into the woods and leave them there to fend for themselves so she and her husband will not starve to death. The woodcutter opposes the plan but finally reluctantly submits to his wife's scheme, unaware that Hansel and Gretel have overheard them. After the parents have gone to bed, Hansel sneaks out of the house and gathers as many white pebbles as he can, then returns to his room, reassuring Gretel that God will not forsake them. The next day, the family walks deep into the woods and Hansel lays a trail of white pebbles. Their father lights a fire for them in the woods, and goes to gather more wood. After a while, the kids realize the father isn't coming back. Gretel cries, but Hansel tells her all will be fine. After nightfall, they follow his shiny pebbles back to the house, arriving by morning. Their father is overjoyed, and takes them back in as he was very upset about leaving them in the first place. After a while, famine strikes again, and the stepmother insists that they take the kids back to the forest to leave them. This time, she locks the door to their room so Hansel is unable to gather pebbles. Clever Hansel crumbles up the small piece of bread he is given by his parents, and sprinkles crumbs along their path. Unfortunately, birds eat the crumbs, and they can't find their way home. After searching for a very long time, they come upon a house in the woods made of breads, cakes, and sugar. They eat from the house, as they're very hungry. While they are eating, a witch comes out and invites them inside, offering them a meal, and pretending to be a kind and friendly old woman. After feeding them, she traps them in her house and makes them do chores each day, feeding them well in order to fatten them up for eating. One day, the witch decides it is time to eat, and has Gretel light the oven and provide water for boiling her brother. After a while, the witch asks Gretel to hop in the oven to make sure it is hot enough to bake bread. Gretel, sensing the witch's intent, pretends she does not understand what the witch means. Infuriated, the witch hops into the oven herself to demonstrate what she wants, and Gretel pushes the door closed behind her, leaving "the ungodly creature to be burned to ashes". Gretel frees Hansel from the cage and the pair discover a vase full of treasure and precious stones. Putting the jewels into their clothing, the children set off for home. They arrive home to hear that their stepmother has since died from unknown causes and their father has not had a happy day since they left their home. They live happily ever after with the witch's wealth. History and analysis [ edit] Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm heard "Hansel and Gretel" from Wilhelm's friend and future wife Dortchen Wild [1] and published it in Kinder- und Hausmärchen in 1812. [2] In the Grimms' version of the tale, the woodcutter's wife is the children's biological mother and the blame for abandoning them is shared between both her and the woodcutter. In later editions, some slight revisions were made: the wife became the children's stepmother, the woodcutter opposes her scheme to abandon the children, and religious references are made. [ citation needed] The sequence where the swan helps them across the river is also an addition to later editions. Another revision was that some versions claimed the mother died from unknown causes, left the family, or remained with the husband at the end of the story. [3] The fairy tale may have originated in the medieval period of the Great Famine (1315–1317), [4] which caused desperate people to abandon young children to fend for themselves or even resort to cannibalism. Folklorists Iona and Peter Opie indicate in The Classic Fairy Tales (1974) that "Hansel and Gretel" belongs to a group of European tales especially popular in the Baltic regions, about children outwitting ogres into whose hands they have involuntarily fallen. The tale bears resemblances to the first half of Charles Perrault 's " Hop-o'-My-Thumb " (1697) and Madame d'Aulnoy 's " Finette Cendron " (1721). In both tales, abandoned children find their way home by following a trail. In "Clever Cinders", the heroine incinerates a giant by shoving him into an oven in a manner similar to Gretel's dispatch of the witch, and a ruse involving a twig in a Swedish tale resembles Hansel's trick of the dry bone. Linguist and folklorist Edward Vajda has proposed that these stories represent the remnant of a coming-of-age rite-of-passage tale extant in Proto-Indo-European society. [5] [6] A house made of confectionery is found in a 14th-century manuscript about the Land of Cockayne. [1] The fact that the mother or stepmother dies after the children kill the witch has suggested to many commentators that the mother or stepmother and the witch are metaphorically the same woman. [7] In the Russian Vasilisa the Beautiful, the stepmother likewise sends her hated stepdaughter into the forest, to borrow a light from her sister, who turns out to be Baba Yaga, who is also a cannibalistic witch. Besides highlighting the endangerment of children (as well as their own cleverness), the tales have in common a preoccupation with food and with hurting children: the mother or stepmother wants to avoid hunger, while the witch lures children to eat her house of candy so that she can then eat them. [8] Another tale of this type is the French fairy tale The Lost Children. [9] The Brothers Grimm also identified the French Finette Cendron and Hop o' My Thumb as parallel stories. [10] Cultural significance [ edit] The fairytale enjoyed a multitude of adaptations for the stage, among them the opera Hänsel und Gretel by Engelbert Humperdinck—one of today's most performed operas. [11] A contemporary reimagining of the story, Mátti Kovler 's musical fairytale Ami & Tami, was produced in Israel and the United States and subsequently released as a symphonic album. [12] [13] Elements from the story were used in the 1994 horror film Wes Craven's New Nightmare for its climax. Hansel and Gretel's trail of breadcrumbs has also inspired the name of the navigation element " breadcrumbs " that allows users to keep track of their locations within programs or documents. [14] The most recent adaption of the fairytale is Gretel & Hansel, a 2020 American dark fantasy horror film directed by Oz Perkins. See also [ edit] The Truth About Hansel and Gretel " Brother and Sister " " Molly Whuppie " Thirteenth (fairy tale) Notes [ edit] ^ In German, the names are diminutives of Johannes (John) and Margarete (Margaret). References [ edit] Citations [ edit] ^ a b Opie & Opie 1974, p. 237 ^ Tatar (2002), p. 44 ^ Tatar (2002), p. 45 ^ Raedisch (2013), p. 180 ^ Vajda (2010) ^ Vajda (2011) ^ Lüthi 1970, p. 64 ^ Tatar 2002, p. 54 ^ Delarue 1956, p. 365 ^ Tatar 2002, p. 72 ^ Upton, George Putnam (1897). The Standard Operas (Google book) (12th ed. ). Chicago: McClurg. pp. 125–129. ISBN   1-60303-367-X. Retrieved 15 October 2007. ^ "Composer Matti Kovler realizes dream of reviving fairy-tale opera in Boston". The Boston Globe. Retrieved 2019-10-31. ^ Schwartz, Penny. "Boston goes into the woods with Israeli opera 'Ami and Tami ' ". Times of Israel. Retrieved 2019-10-31. ^ Mark Levene (18 October 2010). An Introduction to Search Engines and Web Navigation (2nd ed. Wiley. p. 221. ISBN   978-0470526842. Retrieved June 24, 2016. Sources [ edit] External links [ edit] Project Gutenberg e-text SurLaLune Fairy Tale Pages: The Annotated Hansel and Gretel Original versions and psychological analysis of classic fairy tales, including Hansel and Gretel The Story of Hansel and Gretel Collaboratively illustrated story on Project Bookses A translation of the Grimm's Fairy Tale Hansel and Gretel.

Gretel & hansel watch full length youtube. So how many girl actors you want? Director: Yes. Gretel & hansel watch full length hd. Ahh so happy seeing those miserable January thumbnails. You're almost there Chris. Gretel & hansel watch full length episode. Yeah the should say. Marvel's Rhythm Section. Now... there's a title. Gretel & hansel watch full length 2016. Gretel & hansel watch full length episodes. Gretel & Hansel Watch full length. Synopsis A long time ago in a distant fairy tale countryside, a young girl leads her little brother into a dark wood in desperate search of food and work, only to stumble upon a nexus of terrifying evil. Cast Crew Details Genres Director Producers Writers Editors Cinematography Production Design Composer Costumes Studios Country Language Alternative Title Gretel and Hansel Popular reviews More This is good and deserves better than a January dump release If this had an A24 logo tacked onto it... reception would be different... 👎🏻48% YouTube review - Click  HERE 2020 list - Click  HERE This is a visual feast for the eyes, especially if you’re a studio Horror fan. It comes across as a mix between an artistic attempt, and a film mixing in what genre fans love; but at the end of the day, it couldn’t quite connect the two. It comes across as a hollow attempt to bring us something different. The story goes in all sorts of odd directions, and it never really finds its footing. Let’s get one thing straight; this film absolutely looks great. The use of lighting, the film-style, the close-ups, and many of those attempts to do something different work well. The big issue is the fact that… "you would do well to limit the number of words that come out of your mouth" - Creepy guy, but good advice for this movie. - 2020 Ranked: It's still technically January so fuck you all, here is Gretel and Hansel. This film sucked. It's edgelord fairy tales for teenagers too lame to sneak into Rated R films. It looks like a David Lynch fanboy made a horror film for the CW. The score constantly builds toward crap. I guess I'm saying I didn't care for it. Nope it’s terrible your honor it’s really terrible Can't really tell you why I didn't love this one. I had the same reaction to Blackcoat's Daughter; I liked it but... The visuals here were great, loved the production design. The score was amazing. The acting was terrific, especially Alice Krige. It just didn't come together for me. Maybe seeing this in an upstairs room of an American Legion Hall wasn't ideal. I'd definitely watch it again. If only to see all the fairy take stuff I missed the first time. It's got pieces of Suspiria, Valerie and Her Week of Wonders, and Alice in Wonderland. I'm sure they're are many, many more. It's good but just not great for me. Recent reviews Wonderful twist on the classic fairy tale that focuses on female empowerment and having agency as a female in a harsh world. Atmospherically creepy, great cinematography, striking iconography, and a tour de force performance from the stellar Alice Krige. Sort of a spiritual sibling to the vvitch. This one was very odd. I came in thinking it was going to be like every other modern horror film, either a Blumhouse joint or a bad Ari Aster knockoff. Instead, we get a really weird and arty tone-poem budget spooky thing. I really liked the visuals and thought the performances were just the right amount of intentionally clunky and weird. Everything was just slightly askew from what I would expect and thus, kept me unnerved and entertained through its entire run time. I will say, it is very short but feels LONG because it is such a simple story and they really did not try to build a "verse" or even add extra lore to the popular story. They… this felt like a really long episode of television You can really see the movie this almost was. So moody and atmospheric, slowly building to a bonkers mushroom trip from hell conclusion... but instead we get an awkward twist and an annoying epilogue. I just know that Oz Perkins has a wildly different cut of this movie sitting somewhere. I wanna see that. Still, I think Oz did a great job with this script. Sophia Lillis did a great job. Alice Krige did a great job. Cinematographer Galo Olivares did a GREAT job. Samuel Leakey did not do a great job. "There’s no breadcrumb trail in Gretel & Hansel. No gingerbread house, either. The menacing old woman at the dark heart of the story lives in a postmodernist isosceles art piece. Rather than being a one-dimensional cannibal, she’s a witch operating on her own lore – her magic powers evident in a pitch-black pigmentation bleeding down her fingers. All this is to say that Gretel & Hansel, the new grimdark fairy tale horror adaptation by Osgood Perkins, is weird. " Full review on Cinematary: Studios- stop papering over weakly plotted films with excessive/intrusive narration. Do that challenge. If Gretel & Hansel were a book, it would consist of beautiful prose but you might not be able to finish it due to a winding, leisurely plot that lacks a unique throughline. The movie seems to think it does; it's positioned as a cool take on feminism within the confines of a Grimm tale with all of the aesthetic trappings of Robert Eggers. What's not to love? Unfortunately, it's that all-too cynical take on feminism; the kind where the movie throws out that a woman hates men in a misguided effort to offer some sort of depth. It's not a bad technique if they actually decide to delve in and give some deeper characterization but becomes a bad faith argument… Fantastic visuals, cinematography, production design, and musical score. A story that had a lot of potential and many intriguing ingredients. Great performance by Alice Krige. All let down by an inexcusably stupid set of voice-over narrations that sucks the life out of the film and dumbs it down to the point that it loses its own sense of mystery and wonder. There's also a ham-fisted attempt to do a minor plot twist that only adds confusion. The voice-overs and the little twist cause the viewer to start trying to pick apart narrative threads and logic gaps that don't hold up under scrutiny. You don't want to start questioning the storytelling mechanics and realism of a fairy tale, but that's exactly… From approaching this movie I was expecting a C list horror movie with some loud music and jump scares and would be forgotten in the next month. I was planning on ignoring this movie and waiting for something else to come out in theaters. But after receiving a $15 AMC gift card I thought, why not? From someone who does not enjoy horror movies and would get scared easily as a viewer I would say this movie has minor scares but does not rely on its horror genre to tell a “grim” version of the famous fairytale Hansel and Gretel. Oz Perkins chooses to tell a story of growing up and personal destiny between the two siblings. But doesn’t go… Popular Lists 2020 Every movie that gets a wide/Streaming service release (in the US) in 2020 RANKED from my most favorite to least….

If this goes well, well release: The Christmas Before Nightmare.


My Nephew Also Worked in This Film. as Rohan. Gretel & hansel watch full length version. Damn I thought I was about to witness childhood history about how john henry was a mighty man. A fairy tale originally recorded by the Brothers Grimm in 1812. It's in the Public Domain, so here goes: Once upon a time, there was a brother and sister named Hansel and Gretel. Their father was a widower who had remarried, and the family was having hard times. The stepmother insists they abandon the children in the woods so they will have more food for themselves. Their loving father is completely opposed to the plan initially, but she badgers him into agreeing. Hansel overhears the plan and comes up with the idea of leaving a trail of white pebbles. The plan works and the children are able to find their way back home. The stepmother accepts her plan's failure at first, but when food becomes even more scarce, she and the woodcutter attempt to abandon the children again, this time locking the children's door to prevent them from collecting pebbles. Therefore, Hansel is forced to mark their way back via a Trail of Bread Crumbs from the bread that was supposed to be their lunch; the birds eat all the crumbs, leaving them stranded. They wander around for a while, and then they find a Gingerbread House. They are very hungry, so they start eating. The owner of the house, a Wicked Witch, calls out that she knows someone is eating her house; Hansel and Gretel don't reply. The third time, the witch goes out to meet them. She seems surprisingly friendly, and gives them a huge feast. The next day, Hansel is in a fattening pen, and Gretel is a servant. It seems that the witch eats children, once they are properly prepared. Hansel stalls for a while — the old witch can't see well and pinches his finger to test his plumpness and he is able to trick her by holding out a bone — but eventually she gets tired of waiting, and decides to roast him and eat as he is, along with Gretel to compensate for the supposedly measely meal. She orders Gretel to crawl in to check the oven (intending, of course, to shove her in and cook her as well), but Gretel can tell what she has in mind, and pretends she doesn't know how. When the witch bends over to demonstrate it to her, Gretel shoves her in and slams the door. The two siblings then take all of the treasures and valuables from the late witches house and return home. With the stepmother now dead and all the valuables they took from the witch, Hansel and Gretel live prosperously with their father from then on. Found in many variants across many cultures; a list of some can be found here. There are television versions of this tale, but few film versions for reasons that should be clear. The 19th century composer Engelbert Humperdinck adapted the fairy tale into an opera (premiered 1893). The opera in turn was adapted into a 1954 stop-motion animation film. Garrison Keillor deconstructs this one, as well as " Snow White " and " Cinderella ", in his short story "My Stepmother, Myself" in his book Happy To Be Here. There's a modern retelling set in WWII Poland where Hansel and Gretel are Jewish children; and that's all we're going to say about that. The Doctor Who Expanded Universe book Time Lord Fairy Tales retells it as "The Gingerbread Trap", crossing the plot over with that of the Tenth Doctor story "School Reunion". The tale may have originated during the medieval period of the Great Famine when people were driven to desperate measures. Children were abandoned to fend for themselves, and there were many reported incidents of cannibalism. A variant appears in the Dark Parables games, in which Hansel must rescue Gretel from the witch, rather than the other way around, and does so by giving her a permanent sleeping potion instead of shoving her in the oven. He aids a goddess in the process of the rescue, and she rewards him by bestowing an unusual blessing on his descendants in perpetuity. Gerda, from The Snow Queen, is one of these descendants. A translation can be found here. Adaptions and works based upon "Hansel and Gretel": Gretel and Hansel Hansel and Gretel (2007) Hansel and Gretel (2013) Hansel vs. Gretel Hansel & Gretel Get Baked Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters Hansel & Gretel: Warriors of Witchcraft Gretel and Hansel (2020) (no relation to the above-mentioned game) "Hansel and Gretel" provides examples of: Adults Are Useless: Are they ever! The children's birth mother is dead, their stepmother wants to abandon them, their father is cowardly enough to comply to his wife's wishes and the witch desires to eat them for her supper! An Aesop: Don't be too trusting of strangers. Also, strangers immediately offering you goodies and treats the minute they meet you is not a good sign. It should make you raise suspicions that they want something from you in return. Candy laid out in open sight (let alone if they're in a forest far from civilization and in the shape of a house) is a sign that this is a trap. Barefoot Poverty: Illustrations often portray one or both of the siblings going barefoot, presumably to indicate their poverty. Bears Are Bad News: One version has a grizzly bear as the Big Bad instead of the witch. Bowdlerize: In the first edition of the Grimm tales, there was no stepmother; instead both parents agreed to abandon their children. For the second edition, the Grimms changed the mother into a stepmother and added the father's reluctance to follow his wife's plan. This was part of the Grimms' effort to make the tales more palatable as family entertainment. Humperdinck's opera takes this even further, as do later adaptations influenced by it. In the opera, their mother just sends them out to pick berries in exasperation after they accidentally spill a jug of milk that was the only food item left in the house; then they stay too long playing in the forest and get lost when it gets dark. The opera also has the witch turn children into gingerbread instead of straight-up eating their flesh, has her turned into gingerbread herself instead of just burning to death, and has all her previous child victims come back to life when she dies. In VERY early versions of the story (as noted below), the witch's house is not delectable, frosting-covered gingerbread and candy. It's just normal bread, which both ramps up the famine's severity AND the witch's evilness. Big Bad: The Witch. Brother–Sister Team: Our heroes. Composite Character: In some versions of the tale, after killing the witch, the children return home and are happily reunited with their father, when they find out that their wicked (step)mother has died too. This has led some folklorists to speculate that the wicked (step)mother and the witch are in fact the same character. At least one Russian version has the stepmother and the witch be sisters. Creepy Twins: Hansel and Gretel, in the Darker and Edgier adaptations. Cultural Translation: Being a fairy tale, this is often done. A good example of older fairy tale books in Eastern Europe having the witch be Baba Yaga. Distressed Dude: Hansel is locked up in a cage and fattened up to be eaten, and it's left to his sister to bail him out. Family-Unfriendly Death: Befalls the witch. Face on a Milk Carton: In the Supernatural episode " About a Boy ", the witch no longer abducts children because of the Amber Alert system. Instead, she deages adults with a hex bag, fattens them up, and eats them. Fattening the Victim: The witch uses her gingerbread house to lure children into her home in order to fatten and cook them. Faux Affably Evil: The Witch, who pretends to be nice to Hansel and Gretel so that she can lure them into her house and eat them. Gingerbread House: Trope Maker and Trope Codifier. Although in some versions, it's made of bread, and in others, it's simply a house that the siblings recognize as occupied by smoke from the chimney, and are attracted to in an effort to beg for food, only to be caught. Guile Hero: Both siblings use their smarts to outwit both their parents and the witch. Half-Identical Twins: Our heroes are often depicted as such, although it's not stated in the original tale if they're actually twins or not. Henpecked Husband: The woodcutter, so much so that he's willing to abandon his own kids in the woods on his second wife's insistence. Happily Ever After: The children escape the witch and take all her treasures and jewels home with them, and find their stepmother has died and their father is overjoyed to see them. They live like kings from then on. Hoist by His Own Petard: The witch's death. Hope Spot: The children are able to find their way back home using the trail of pebbles, and the stepmother, while angry, initially lets it be. But when the famine worsens, the stepmother insists on abandoning them again, this time locking the door to prevent Hansel from collecting anymore pebbles. Hansel attempts to leave a breadcrumb trail, but the birds eat them. I'm a Humanitarian: The witch eats children. Kill It with Fire: The witch Laser-Guided Karma: In some versions, the children's step-mother dies for no apparent reason besides this. Lighter and Softer: The opera. The Lost Woods: The kids parents attempts to dump them in one so they won't have to worry about feeding them anymore. Lured into a Trap: The gingerbread house itself was a trap the witch set up for children. Murder by Cremation: The witch's death. No Name Given: The parents and the witch. Though in Humperdinck's opera, the parents are Peter and Gertrud and the witch is Rosine Leckermaul (literally, "Raisin Tastymuzzle"). The Nose Knows: In many versions, the witch is nearly blind, but has a keen sense of smell that lets her detect prey from a distance. Ode to Food: Considering the family lives in hunger, there are plenty of food songs in the opera. Offing the Offspring: An implication often overlooked now, but obvious to folk at the time of the tale's origin, is this: the woodcutter's wife can bear him more children once the famine has passed. Oktoberfest: In illustrations, Hansel and Gretel are almost invariably depicted wearing traditional Bavarian costumes. After all, everyone knows it's a German story. Parental Abandonment: The parents do this to their kids in the forest under pretense that they are only leaving briefly to gather some wood, their motive being that there will be more food for them during the famine occurring their country without the children. Parents as People: Mother in the Humperdinck opera and the Cannon Movie Tales version based upon it. When she finds the children horsing around and the milk she was relying on is lost, she starts screaming at them in frustration, says some terrible things, and drives them out into the forest. However, her desperation, fear, and exasperation are understood by the viewer and she remains a sympathetic character. Her horror is palpable when she realizes they are now in danger, and the reunion at the end is a happy one usually void of any reference to her first scene. Rule of Three The Sandman: In the theater version, the Sandman appears to Hansel and Gretel in The Lost Woods, signaling that it is time for the children to sing their evening prayer and go to sleep (though a Dream Ballet ensues). The Sandman's morning counterpart, the Dewman, appears to wake them up again with a very similar song as the curtain goes up on the third act. Social Darwinist: The children's stepmother. The family is living in a medieval famine-stricken Germany, meaning a food shortage, so she decides getting rid of the children is the best option. Solitary Sorceress: This tale is a strong contender as Trope Codifier for the "witch lives in a cottage in the woods" variant of the trope. Sugary Malice: The witch. Temporary Bulk Change: Hansel fattens up rapidly over what appears to be just a few days. Too Smart for Strangers: Except they weren't. Trail of Bread Crumbs: Trope Namer, Trope Maker and Trope Codifier, and possible Ur-Example, together with " Hop-o'-My-Thumb ". Though note that the breadcrumbs didn't work. The trail of stones is what did. Wealthy Ever After: They return with the witch's treasure. What Measure Is a Non-Human? : Also doubles as Ungrateful Bastard. In at least one version, Hansel and Gretel are escorted home by a magic duck... who the father then kills and cooks for dinner. Wicked Stepmother: In the best known versions of the tale, the plan to abandon Hansel and Gretel in the woods is put forward by their stepmother, and the father only complies because of her pressuring. The trope does not appear in the first edition version recorded by the Grimm brothers (and in occasional retellings of the story, such as Paul O Zelinsky's), where the woman is the kids' actual mother, and the father also desires to abandon the children. Averted in Humperdinck's opera, where she is once again the birth mother. In the opera, however, she has no evil motive; she simply sends them out as an exasperated parent and they become lost by accident. As mentioned above, some Russian versions of the story have a pragmatic reason to have a Wicked Stepmother.. is the sister of the Wicked Witch who marries widowed fathers so she can send her their children. Wicked Witch.

Gretel & hansel watch full length movies. Gretel & hansel watch full length movie. You've exceeded the maximum tag limit (64 friends max) in this photo. At the moment you can't tag a person in a photo. Please, retry later. This person does not have the access to this photo In order to tag a person, hover over his photo and press left mouse button Left-click on a photo to tag people in it. Log in to save your medals! Don't have an account? Create one for free! Bad Doggy 5 Points Race the wolf... and lose Between a Rock and a Hard Rock 5 Points Get crushed Big Brother 5 Points Rescue Gretel Free Bird 5 Points Teach hansel how to fly Frosty Impaler 5 Points Be too greedy Got Wood? 5 Points Suffer the stickman's wrath Gut Busting 5 Points Step on the trap Here Doggy! 5 Points Give a dog a bone Metal Meal 5 Points Get Hansel to eat the scissors Never Hit an Old Man 5 Points Disrespect your elders Revenge 5 Points Beat a dead horse Saviour 5 Points Keep both dinner guests alive Sensory Overload 5 Points Reveal the bridge Slayer 5 Points Slay the beast Snip Snip 5 Points Get cut Spiked 5 Points Get the pit death Ssssssurprise! 5 Points Try and cross the swamp without Hansel Swan Dive 5 Points Go for a swim Weather Master 5 Points Solve the weather puzzle Where's My Arm? 5 Points Pet the teddy A Trusty Hat 10 Points Give Rufus back his hat A Woman's Tears 10 Points Free Emma Till Part 3... 10 Points Complete the game Grimm Master 2 25 Points Beat the game after getting all the deaths Secret Medal????? Points Unlock this medal to learn its secrets! Author Comments 1 million views!! Thanks everyone! Secret Medals 2 and 5 are NOT working right now, they will be soon! Thank you everyone for the wonderful comments and feedback! Still trying to crush the rest of the bugs, but they should be all fixed soon! Ok so its FINALLY HERE. After a solid year of work, we happily present to you part 2 of Gretel and Hansel. Much longer and more involved than the first game, this took our blood sweat and tears for many sleepless nights. Very special thanks to Tom and the Newgrounds crew for sponsorship and support during this very trying week as we made the changes necessary to launch. Thanks to Jess Cron, our new music maestro. He composed all of the new music for the game, and I'll be the first to say how amazing it all is. Also thanks to Mike Rudolph for our wonderful theme music. Controls are the same as Part One, use the arrow keys or the ASDW keys to move around, mouse to click and use your inventory items. Also the game saves automatically so don't worry about having to do it all in one sitting. Being a massive game I'm sure there are still plenty of bugs i've missed. I know for a fact one achievement isn't working properly. Please let me know when you find them and i'll squash them ASAP. All other comments are appreciated as well. Enjoy! Makopudding and Team Gretel walkthroughs can be found here: Part 1: (remove the space in the link) Part 2: (remove the space in the link) Log in / sign up to vote & review! Newgrounds accounts are free and registered users see fewer ads! Now that it works again full 5 stars. Always will love it but are you EVER going to release the final part? Or is Part 2 also the somewhat finale too? for some reason the WASD buttons and SPACE button doesn't work, I can clearly remember them working when this game was released! what should I do after killing wood creature? Gretel is sleeping now 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 … 203 394.

Gretel & hansel watch full length online. Gretel & hansel watch full length hair. Overview Wiki Plays 1, 491, 583 Ratings 2, 980 Favorites 933 Published Jan 8, 2010 Related Categories Atmospheric Adventure Escape Art Puzzle Classic Description After a long time in development, the adventure begins. This was a labor of love. Hand painted backgrounds and characters all scanned and worked up with Flash. Everything should be working alright, but if you notice any major issues please let us know and we will fix them right away. Controls Mouse to Select ASWD or Arrow Keys to Move Commenting Rules & Guidelines Hate ads on your game page? So do we! Ads are distracting, can get in the way of your gaming, and sometimes slow down your computer. Sign-up for Ad-Free Gaming and get rid of ads for as long as you choose. Why does Armor Games have ads? Making original games costs a lot, and whenever you visit this website, we pay bandwidth charges. Ads help pay for these.

Gretel & Hansel Watch Full length. Gretel & hansel watch full length free. Gretel & Hansel Watch Full lengths. Gretel & hansel watch full length full. Gretel & Hansel Watch Full length. 64-bits and 18-button controller. How can anyone compete with that :P. Is this about quitting smoking? That's why I'm getting from the lyrics.

This is Sophia lillis ( beverly marsh from stephen kings IT. nice. *CUT TO THE CHASE* NOTE: This spoiler was submitted by Jeremy The film opens with a story about “The Beautiful Child With The Little Pink Cap”. There was once a baby that everyone in the village found to be the most precious, but she had fallen terribly ill one winter. Her father took her to see an enchantress, who removed the illness but left a power within the girl. As she grew older, people in the village went to the girl, as she had premonitions of the future. Since she knew everything ended in death, she used her power to kill people, including her father. The child was taken into the woods to be left alone, but she lured other children her way to a grim fate. Teenaged Gretel (Sophia Lillis) and her younger brother Hansel (Sam Leakey) are going to meet a man about a job as a housekeeper. Gretel meets with the man, but he makes his true intentions clear when he asks Gretel if she is still a virgin. The two leave without a job. At night, the siblings’ mother chastises Gretel for not doing what she had to do to get a job and help provide for them. She tells Gretel that she and Hansel must leave since there is no room left in the house. The mother goes as far as threatening to hack Gretel to bits if they don’t leave immediately. The siblings flee their home and find a hut to sleep in for the night. They then find a ghoulish man who lets out a horrible scream and makes the kids run away. He chases them outside and attacks Hansel. Gretel punches the man, whose eye appears to come off. Before he lunges at Gretel, he is killed by an arrow through his head. A Hunter (Charles Babalola) rescues the siblings and takes them into his home for the night, feeding them a rabbit stew. He tells them he will let them sleep there for the night and will also direct them toward others who can provide them with food and work. The following morning, the siblings go out to forage and seek out work. They get frustrated when they find nothing until Gretel spots some mushrooms. They turn out to be “magic” mushrooms that cause the two to laugh hysterically. Hansel then wanders until he finds a house that has a cake smell coming from it. Gretel follows as she hears what sounds like a girl’s voice beckoning her, seen alongside the Beautiful Child being taken away in a carriage. Gretel tries to stop Hansel from going in, but he does so anyway and appears to be taken by someone. Gretel tries to start a fire to break inside, but she is greeted by Holda (Alice Krige), the woman living inside. She invites the siblings inside for a meal and allows them to sleep there in exchange for work. Holda has Hansel go out into the woods to practice his skills with an ax, while she keeps Gretel at the house. Hansel enjoys his time there since they have plenty of food, but Gretel becomes suspicious of Holda’s intentions. Gretel starts to see a vision of the Enchantress and also hears children’s voices guiding her somewhere, but before she finds out what’s going on, she wakes up in her bed. While Hansel goes out, Holda shows Gretel how to tap into her powers as a witch. Gretel goes into the woods and manages to use her power to bring a tree branch near her to she can take a fruit. Meanwhile, Hansel also sees a vision of the Enchantress and spots a satanic carving on a nearby tree. Hansel also starts to grow suspicious of Holda, telling Gretel he wants to go home, even though they have nothing waiting for them there. Later in the night, Gretel makes her way into Holda’s cellar, where Hansel is sitting in a trance. The floor fills with goo, and a younger witch emerges, emptying buckets of guts onto the table before turning them into food, the same that Holda fed the siblings. Gretel realizes the food is made of children. The next day, Gretel sits with Holda, who eats something and pulls a long strand of a child’s hair out of her mouth. Gretel pleads with Holda to let Hansel go, but she refuses, as she is saving him for Gretel to consume. She then tells Gretel the truth about the story of the Beautiful Child – Holda was the girl’s mother, and she resented her daughter after she killed her father, and she left the girl in the woods of her own accord. However, the child lingered in Holda’s mind, promising to share her powers with her if she trusted the darkness. With that, Holda devoured her other children and took on the disguise of an old woman to appear friendly and lure other children to their fates. Holda keeps Gretel strapped to the table in the cellar as she assumes her youthful appearance to lure Hansel into a cage so she can cook him. Gretel manages to use her powers to send a staff toward Holda, sticking her to the wall over the flames. Her body catches fire and she writhes in agony until she is fully destroyed, breaking the trance on Hansel and letting Gretel go free. Gretel decides to stay behind at the house while sending Hansel on his way with a horse. The horse brings him back to his old house, where his mother no longer stays. Gretel then sees the spirits of the dead children emerge from the trees, now free at last. Her fingers then turn black just like Holda’s did, but her voiceover states that she will be brave and trust in herself. Brought to you by Gretel and Hansel are forced out of their home by their cruel mother after Gretel fails to get work to provide for them. After they are rescued from a creature by a hunter, he provides them with food and shelter and directs them on where to find someone who will help them with food and work. The siblings come across the home of a witch, Holda, who appears friendly and provides them with food and shelter in exchange for work. Holda begins to teach Gretel how to tap into her own witch powers, but Gretel soon learns that Holda has been luring children to her home to kill and eat them, and she plans to do the same with Hansel. Holda prepares for Hansel to be cooked, but Gretel uses her power to send Holda's staff toward her and cause her to burn to death. Gretel stays at Holda's home while sending Hansel away. The spirits of the children are free, but Gretel must now contend with her own witch powers.

Social engineering has changed the name of the fairy tail called “Hansel and Gretel” to “Gretel and Hansel”. Wouldnt want it to appear as if a white male was leading anything. Thats offensive. Down with Hansel! 🤷🏻‍♂️.


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  1. Author - daniel loves josé
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Les misérables Watch Online No Sign Up dual audio 1280p Without Membership







  • Ladj Ly
  • duration=1 Hours 44minute
  • description=Brigadier Stéphane Ruiz is a young and light-heartened cop who moves to Paris to be closer of his little son after the divorce of his wife. Working in the impoverished suburb of Montfermeil, in the 93th district, where Victor Hugo wrote his famous 1862's novel "The Miserables", Ruiz joins the local Anti-Crime Brigade, being paired with veterans but unscrupulous colleagues Chris and Gwada, who are charged with the task to train Ruiz about the way Montfermeil's works and the people to meet. However, his first day in Montfermeil twists in bad way when the owner of a circus and his men meet where drug-lord Le Maire ("The Mayor") claiming for a stolen baby lion a few hours ago, blaming him by the theft. Avoiding a fight between Le Maire and circus' owner, the three cops patrol the hood looking for the animal, learning that a troubled kid named Issa is the thief, who stolen to have it as pet. But when Ruiz, Chris and Gwada locate Issa to recover the baby lion, Issa's friends attempt to liberate him from the cops. With the situation out of control, Gwada shots a rubber ball just when Issa tried to escape and hits him in the face, just in the moment that all they realize that a drone of a boy named Buzz recorded all the incident. Patrolling around, Chris and Gwada locate Buzz and start a prosecution to catch him after to learn that drone's card is gone. Hiding in a downstairs, Buzz escapes from Chris and runs to ask refuge to Salah, a Kebab's owner and leader of the each time more powerful Muslim brotherhood in the hood. While Issa's friends run to advise Le Maire about the drone and the record, Ruiz, Chris and Gwada moves where Le Pince ("The Clamp"), a bar's owner in addition to Le Maire's rival and Chris' partner in business, looking for help, at the same time that Ruiz goes to a pharmacy to heal Issa's hurts. But when a confident alerts about Buzz's location, Le Maire, the cops and Le Pince meet at the same time at Salah's local claiming by the card, not measuring the consequences of their acts
  • rating=4528 votes
  • star=Damien Bonnard
  • release Date=2019


Os MiserÃvers les. #12 os miseraveis - the legendado. Os miseráveis (volume iv: idílio na rua plumet e epopeia na rua de saint. Assistir os miseraveis. Common Sense Age 14+ Critics Consensus 69% HD AD Drama 2 Hours 37 Minutes 2013 4. 4, 3. 2K Ratings Hugh Jackman, Academy Award winner Russell Crowe and Anne Hathaway star in this critically-acclaimed adaptation of the epic musical phenomenon. Set against the backdrop of 19th-century France, Les Misérables tells the story of ex-prisoner Jean Valjean (Jackman) hunted for decades by the ruthless policeman Javert (Crowe) after he breaks parole. When Valjean agrees to care for factory worker Fantines (Hathaway) young daughter, Cosette, their lives change forever. This enthralling story is a timeless testament to the survival of the human spirit and “an unforgettable experience” (Richard Roeper. Rent 3. 99 Buy 14. 99 Ratings and Reviews 4. 4 out of 5 3. 2K Ratings 69% TOMATOMETER Critics Consensus: Impeccably mounted but occasionally bombastic, Les Misérables largely succeeds thanks to bravura performances from its distinguished cast. 14+ COMMON SENSE Excellent film adaptation of gritty, heartbreaking musical. Information Studio Universal Pictures Released Copyright 2012 Universal Studios. All Rights Reserved. Languages Primary English (United Kingdom) Audio Description, Stereo, Dolby 5. 1) Additional English (United States) Subtitles) French (Subtitles) Portuguese (Subtitles) Spanish (Subtitles) Accessibility Audio descriptions (AD) refer to a narration track describing what is happening on screen, to provide context for those who are blind or have low vision.

Os miseráveis (volume iv. About the Show 2019 Victor Hugos masterpiece Les Misérables comes to television in a six-part adaptation by multi award-winning screenwriter Andrew Davies. Dominic West stars as fugitive Jean Valjean, with David Oyelowo as his pursuer Inspector Javert and Lily Collins as the luckless single mother Fantine. Love, death, and the struggle for social justice in early 19th-century France feature in this beautifully faithful retelling of one of the worlds most beloved stories. The distinguished British cast also includes Adeel Akhtar ( The Night Manager, Murdered By My Father) and Academy Award winner Olivia Colman ( The Favourite, Murder On The Orient Express, The Night Manager, Broadchurch) as Monsieur and Madame Thénardier, Ellie Bamber ( Nocturnal Animals, Pride And Prejudice And Zombies) as Cosette, Josh OConnor ( The Durrells in Corfu) as Marius, Erin Kellyman ( Raised By Wolves) as Éponine and Henry Lloyd Hughes ( Indian Summers, The Inbetweeners) as Pontmercy. Sign up to get the latest news on your favorite dramas and mysteries, as well as exclusive content, video, sweepstakes and more. This is the template.

JustWatch. Os miseraveis. Want to watch ' Les Misérables ' on your TV or mobile device at home? Discovering a streaming service to buy, rent, download, or view the Tom Hooper-directed movie via subscription can be a challenge, so we here at Moviefone want to do right by you. Below, youll find a number of top-tier streaming and cable services - including rental, purchase, and subscription alternatives - along with the availability of 'Les Misérables' on each platform. Now, before we get into the various whats and wheres of how you can watch 'Les Misérables' right now, here are some details about the Working Title Films, Cameron Mackintosh historical drama flick. Released December 25th, 2012, Les Misérables' stars Hugh Jackman, Russell Crowe, Anne Hathaway, Amanda Seyfried The PG-13 movie has a runtime of about 2 hr 38 min, and received a score of 63 (out of 100) on Metacritic, which compiled reviews from 41 experienced critics. You probably already know what the movie's about, but just in case. Here's the plot: After 19 years as a prisoner, Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman) is freed by Javert (Russell Crowe) the officer in charge of the prison workforce. Valjean promptly breaks parole but later uses money from stolen silver to reinvent himself as a mayor and factory owner. Javert vows to bring Valjean back to prison. Eight years later, Valjean becomes the guardian of a child named Cosette after her mother's (Anne Hathaway) death, but Javert's relentless pursuit means that peace will be a long time coming. Les Misérables' is currently available to rent, purchase, or stream via subscription on, VUDU, iTunes Store, YouTube, and XFINITY.

Os miseráveis legenda. Watch Les misérables movie tamilyogi Look"here"Les, Watch LES MISÉRABLES Online Filmweb… Watch Les misérables Online Wikipedia. Les misérables eng sub. Support us: X Classic Movies, Install BRAVE, English Subtitles, RlsBB, Releaselog, Your link here Site Language You are not logged in! Log-In, Register search in 5220166 subtitles Search Upload Request Forum Blog Player Advanced search Applet search Searching Search only in Movies: Search only in TV Series: Season: Episode: Fulltext using OR: Fix input: Multi-search Movie CDs: Genre: File bytesize: Movie language: Movie rating: Movie country: Movie year: FPS: Subtitles Format: Uploaded: Very advanced search Very advanced search Uploader: User ID: Translator: IMDB ID: Movie hash: Movie ID: install opensearch for browser Results 1 - 23 of 23 (0. 121 seconds) If you like to get search results as RSS after search, click on icon at bottom Watch Les Miserables online Buy at Amazon Movie details "Fight. Dream. Hope. Love. An adaptation of the successful stage musical based on Victor Hugo's classic novel set in 19th-century France, in which a paroled prisoner named Jean Valjean seeks redemption. Movie rating: 7. 6 / 10 ( 294114) Directed by: Tom Hooper Writer credits: Claude-Michel Schönberg - William Nicholson Alain Boublil Cast: Hugh Jackman Russell Crowe Anne Hathaway Amanda Seyfried Sacha Baron Cohen AKA: Bi Navayan, Les Misérables, Les Miz, i Upload subtitles Movie name #CD 1CD 2CD 3CD Uploaded Uploader Les Miserables (2012) Watch online Download Subtitles Searcher 1CD 11/08/2017 23. 976 2469x srt 0. 0 0 7. 6 farkem Les Miserables 11/08/2017 23. 976 1145x srt 10. 6 farkem Les Miserables (2012) Les. Misé Watch online Download Subtitles Searcher 1CD 21/09/2016 23. 976 33044x srt 0. 6 Peterlin Les Miserables (2012) Les. Misé Watch online Download Subtitles Searcher 1CD 26/05/2016 23. 976 5203x srt 0. 6 authentic Les Miserables 25/10/2015 1947x srt 0. 6 Les Miserables (2012) Les Mis Watch online Download Subtitles Searcher 1CD 25/04/2014 23. 976 2082x srt 0. 6 sene14822 Les Miserables 20/03/2013 23. 976 8382x srt 0. 6 pirated_soul Les Miserables 15/03/2013 23. 976 3689x 15/03/2013 23. 976 1928x 10/03/2013 23. 976 6056x srt 0. 6 prvc Les Miserables (2012) COLOR Hearing Impaired) Watch online Download Subtitles Searcher 1CD 09/03/2013 23. 976 5312x srt 0. 6 cipry Les Miserables 09/03/2013 23. 976 19516x 09/03/2013 23. 976 2397x (2012) Les Miserables 2012 BRRip XviD AC3-SANTi Watch online Download Subtitles Searcher 1CD 09/03/2013 25. 000 12722x srt 0. 6 LotharZ Les Miserables (2012) Watch online Download Subtitles Searcher 2CD 08/03/2013 23. 976 5143x 08/03/2013 23. 976 46666x srt 0. 6 LastSioux Les Miserables 08/03/2013 23. 976 2234x 08/02/2013 25. 000 3016x srt 0. 6 DBRage Les Miserables 01/02/2013 25. 000 7847x 18/01/2013 25. 000 17529x 17/01/2013 23. 976 17458x (2012) LES_MISERABLES-2013EDAW DVDSRNR Watch online Download Subtitles Searcher 1CD 17/01/2013 29. 970 7068x 13/01/2013 29. 970 82129x srt 0. 0 3 7. 6 jcdr next New subtitles A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z # Support us, Download, FAQ, Links, Statistics, Contact, Disclaimer, Developers, DMCA, Admins, Subtitols en aragonés, ترجمة عربى, Euskarazko azpidatziak, , Hrvatski titlovi, Subtítols en Català, České titulky, Danske undertekster, Deutsche Untertitel, Nederlandse Ondertitels, Eesti subtiitrid, Esperantaj subtekstoj, subtítulos en Espańol, زیرنویس فارسی, Suomi tekstitykset, Sous-titres français, Subtítulos en galego, Ελληνικά υπότιτλοι, כתוביות עברית, हिन्दी सबटायटल, Magyar feliratok, Íslenskir Textar, Subjudul Bahasa Indonesia, Italiano sottotitoli, 日本のサブタイトル, ქართული სუბტიტრები, អត្ថបទរឿងជាភាសាខ្មែរ, 한국 부제, , Subjudul Bahasa Melayu, Norske undertekster, Sostítols en occitan, Polskie napisy, legendas em Portuguęs, legendas em Português Brasileiro, Romana subtitrari, , සින්හල උපසිරසි, Titra shqip, Srpski prevodi, Slovenské titulky, Svenska undertexter, คำบรรยายไทย, Türkçe altyazı, Tagalog subtitles, ї і , Phụ đề tiếng Việt, 中文字幕 [ Hockey Arena, Movie Posters] 2006-2020.

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Os MiserÃvers la page du film. Os miseráveis de victor hugo. Manage Account Account Summary Billing TV Internet Voice Settings Get Support Support Home Account Support Watch TV Live TV Guide On Demand DVR My Library 2020 Charter Communications Your Privacy Rights Policies Go to Assist On Demand service available to residential customers only who subscribe to Spectrum TV in Digital, TV Select or above. On Demand programming varies by level of service; pricing, ratings and scheduling are subject to change. Trademarks belong to their respective owners.

Les Misérables is Ladj Ly's hard-hitting police procedural set in Montfermeil, the eastern suburb of Paris where the Thénardiers' inn from Victor Hugo's famed novel is also located.

Ly grew up in this area, marked by housing projects populated by minority residents chiefly of North African (Muslim) origin. He follows a squad of three police officers who patrol the area in their squad car. When we first meet them, Ruiz (Damien Bonnard) a transfer apparently from a more middle-class precinct, has joined the team, led by Chris (Alexis Manenti) a tough, no-nonsense officer of Caucasian extraction along with Gwada (Djibril Zonga) his equally hardened North African streetwise subordinate.

From the outset, Ruiz obviously is uncomfortable with Chris's willingness to skirt the law in order to bend the residents of Montfermeil to his will. Chris must deal with the "Mayor" of the neighborhood, who appears to receive bribes from local merchants in a large neighborhood flea market and acts as a quasi-mentor of the teenagers, most of whom engage in acting-out behavior. There is also Salah, a former criminal turned Iman, who provides spiritual counsel to the community but represents a more militant voice among the Muslim population, who are quite resentful of authority in general.

Ly cleverly breaks into his second act when Issa, a teenager steals a lion cub from a local circus run by a bunch of hothead gypsy racists, who drive into the projects carrying bats and threaten to attack the residents if the cub isn't returned to them immediately.

Chris and his squad break up the fight between the two groups. Ly pulls no punches in his depiction of the police officers, who engage in questionable, illegal tactics but remain devoted to resolving the burgeoning violent confrontation between the right and left wing militants. If they are unsuccessful, a full-scale riot may ensue.

Ly raises the stakes in his story when Gwada shoots Issa in the face with a flash gun after he and his pals surround the police and throw rocks at them. Meanwhile, a nerdy kid from the project has been filming the entire incident overhead with a drone and Chris races to confiscate the video card before it can be posted on the internet.

A climactic chase culminates in Chris allowing Ruiz to negotiate with Salah, who ultimately hands over the video card to ensure the riot doesn't take place. The lion cub is returned to the gypsies, but the owner of the circus punishes Issa by dragging him into a lion's cage as a warning not to steal any of their property again.

Ly's plot is clever as he both entertains and edifies, chronicling the explosive societal tensions that exist in French society today. Only the denouement, which features a riot by the teenagers as they trap the hapless three officers in the narrow confines of a hallway in one of the buildings, proves to be cinematic overkill. Ironically, it's the reasonable Ruiz, who stands pointing his firearm at Issa while he stands at the bottom of a stairwell, as the out of control teenager menacingly stands a flight above, brandishing a Molotov cocktail.

Eighty percent of the actors Ly employed here were local kids who had never acted in a film before. Ly's direction of them is masterful. At a recent Q&A, Ly confirmed that a good deal of the film's style was influenced by American films. I wouldn't be surprised if some US production houses came calling, offering loads of cash to adapt this for an English speaking audience, primarily for the US market.

Os miseráveis musical. Start watching Les Miserables Add HBO to any Hulu plan for an additional 14. 99/month. Get unlimited access to the largest streaming library with no ads Watch on your favorite devices Switch plans or cancel anytime Download from thousands of titles to watch offline Available add-ons HBO SHOWTIME CINEMAX STARZ Get unlimited access to the largest streaming library with limited ads Watch on your favorite devices Switch plans or cancel anytime Available add-ons No Ads HBO SHOWTIME CINEMAX STARZ Get unlimited access to the largest streaming library with limited ads Stream 65+ top Live and On-Demand TV channels Record live TV with 50 hours of Cloud DVR storage Watch Live TV online and on supported devices Switch plans or cancel anytime Available add-ons Enhanced Cloud DVR Unlimited Screens HBO SHOWTIME CINEMAX STARZ Entertainment Add-on Español Add-on.

View Trailer Share on: Share via Facebook Share via Twitter 4. 5 / 5 stars 79% 69% Read Less Released Year: 2012 Cast & Crew Jean Valjean Inspector Javert Fantine Cosette Marius Pontmercy Madame Thénardier Thénardier Éponine Enjolras Gavroche Young Cosette Young Éponine Bishop of Digne Gillnormande Montparnasse Madame Baptistine Madame Magloire Fauchelevent Bamatabois Brevet Director Producer Information for Parents Excellent film adaptation of gritty, heartbreaking musical. Read More.

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Les Miserables is available to watch and stream, download, buy on demand at Amazon Prime, Hulu, HBO NOW, The Roku Channel, Amazon, FandangoNow, iTunes online. Hugh Jackman Attacker Arrested Hugh Jackman had an odd encounter this weekend. read about what happened when the "Wolverine" actor was stalked! Les Miserables' Soundtrack Tops Charts The highlighted album for the musical heads high in the ratings chart. Which song was most downloaded? Hugh Jackman Addresses Rumors About His Sexuality Despite being married for 17 years, gay rumors seem to follow Jackman. But it's not Jackman who's bothered. it's his wife, who he claims is bugged by the constant gossip about his sexual preference. Which Singer Is Bashing 'Les Miserables. Which "American Idol" singer was not impressed by the movie's cast and took to Twitter to bash the score.

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Les Miserables is a French television mini series, based on the novel with the same name, written by Victor Hugo. This television mini series falls into the genres of both drama and history, and it has an approximate running time of one hour and forty minutes long. Les Miserables has been rated 12, and it was directed by Josee Dayan. This series was produced by Gerard Depardieu, Jean Pierre Guerin, and Doris Kirch, and it was written by Didier Decoin. Furthermore, this television series stars many well known actor's and actresses such as Gerard Depardieu, Christian Clavier, John Malkovich, Virginie Ledoyen, Enrico Lo Verso, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Asia Argento, Veronica Ferres, Jeanne Moreau, Giovanna Mezzogiorno, Vadim Glowna, Steffen Wink, Leopoldine Serre, and Jerome Hardelay. Les Miserables takes place during the 19th century in the mist of the French Restoration. It mainly focuses on a man by the name of Jean Valjean, who is a galley slave. Jean was sent to prison because he was caught stealing food, but he was finally released from prison after he served a 19 year sentence. Upon returning to society, Jean notices that all of the people he comes across closes their doors to him and do not trust him. However, Jean comes across a bishop named Bienvenu who treats him very kindly and ends up taking Jean in. Jean notices how this bishop has true compassion and humanity within him, and he begins to have faith in the good again. Even more so, Jean begins to get his life back in order and quickly becomes a very rich industrialist who also becomes a well liked citizen and the mayor of a small town. Unfortunately, Jean's luck starts to spiral downward after a single mother, Fatine, that Jean works with, dies sadly due to consumption. When Fatine's daughter, Cosette goes to foster parents, Jean is determined to save her and raise her as his own daughter.

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Release year: 2020; ; Mystery; Writed by: Aaron Abrams; directed by: Michael Showalter. The lovebirds watch movies. The Lovebirds Watch movie. The Lovebirds Theatrical release poster Directed by Michael Showalter Produced by Tom Lassally Oliver Obst Todd Schulman Jordana Mollick Written by Aaron Abrams Brendan Gall Story by Martin Gero Starring Issa Rae Kumail Nanjiani Paul Sparks Anna Camp Kyle Bornheimer Music by Michael Andrews Cinematography Brian Burgoyne Edited by Robert Nassau Production companies MRC 3 Arts Entertainment Quinn's House Distributed by Paramount Pictures Release date March 14, 2020 ( SXSW) April 3, 2020 (United States) Running time 86 minutes [1] Country United States Language English The Lovebirds is an upcoming American romantic comedy film, directed by Michael Showalter, from a screenplay by Aaron Abrams and Brendan Gall, from a story by Abrams, Gall and Martin Gero. It stars Kumail Nanjiani, Issa Rae, Paul Sparks, Anna Camp and Kyle Bornheimer. It will have its world premiere at South by Southwest on March 14, 2020. It is scheduled to be released on April 3, 2020, by Paramount Pictures. Plot [ edit] A couple (Issa Rae & Kumail Nanjiani) experiences a defining moment in their relationship when they are unintentionally embroiled in a murder mystery. As their journey to clear their names takes them from one extreme – and hilarious - circumstance to the next, they must figure out how they, and their relationship, can survive the night. Cast [ edit] Kumail Nanjiani as Jibran Issa Rae as Leilani Betsy Borrego as Reya Kyle Bornheimer as Brett Kelly Murtagh as Evonne Moses Storm as Steve Production [ edit] In January 2019, it was announced Kumail Nanjiani and Issa Rae had joined the cast of the film, with Michael Showalter, directing from a screenplay by Aaron Abrams, Brendan Gall, and Martin Gero. Abrams, Gall, Gero will serve as producers on the film, alongside, Oly Obst, Todd Schulman and Jordana Mollick, while Showalter, Nanjiani and Rae will serve as executive producers. Media Rights Capital will produce and finance the film, while Paramount Pictures will distribute. [2] That same month, Anna Camp joined the cast of the film. [3] Filming [ edit] Principal photography began in January 2019. [4] 5] Production concluded on February 27, 2019. [6] The official trailer incorporates a section of Ilaiyaraajas “Oru kili” soundtrack composed for the movie Aanandha Kummi (1983) as background music. Release [ edit] It will have its world premiere at South by Southwest on March 14, 2020. [7] It is scheduled to be released on April 3, 2020. [8] References [ edit] "The Lovebirds. South by Southwest. Retrieved January 15, 2020. ^ Kit, Borys; Galuppo, Mia (January 17, 2019. Kumail Nanjiani, Issa Rae to Star in Romantic Comedy 'The Lovebirds' Exclusive. The Hollywood Reporter. Retrieved January 28, 2019. ^ Galuppo, Mia (January 28, 2019. Anna Camp Joins Issa Rae-Kumail Nanjiani Rom-Com 'The Lovebirds' Exclusive. Retrieved January 28, 2019. ^ Production Weekly" PDF. Production Weekly. No. 1123. December 20, 2018. p. 19. Retrieved January 28, 2019. ^ Nanjiani, Kumail (January 27, 2019. We start shooting #TheLovebirds this week. So excited to do this with the amazing @issarae. Instagram. Retrieved January 27, 2019. ^ Current Productions. Retrieved February 27, 2019. ^ Ray-Ramos, Dino (January 15, 2020. SXSW Sets Judd Apatow's 'The King Of Staten Island' As Opening-Night Film, Unveils Features And Episodics Lineups. Deadline Hollywood. Retrieved January 15, 2020. ^ Pederson, Erik (May 24, 2019. The Lovebirds' Issa Rae-Kumail Nanjiani Paramount Comedy Moved Back By A Month. Retrieved May 25, 2019. External links [ edit] The Lovebirds on IMDb.

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The lovebirds watch movie watch. The lovebirds watch movie 2017. The lovebirds watch movie review. Lovebird is a small parrot species Lovebird or Love Bird, or Lovebirds or Love Birds may refer to: People [ edit] William F. Allen (Delaware) American businessman and politician nicknamed "Lovebird" Films [ edit] Love Birds (1934 film) an American film Love Birds (1996 film) a Tamil musical-comedy film Love Birds (2011 film) a New Zealand romantic comedy film The Lovebirds (2007 film) a Portuguese drama film The Lovebirds (2020 film) an American comedy film Stage [ edit] Love Birds (musical) a 2015 stage musical written by Robert J. Sherman Lovebirds (play) a 2015 Marathi play Music [ edit] Albums [ edit] Lovebird, by Papermoon Lovebird, by Kohmi Hirose Reincarnation of a Lovebird, Charles Mingus 1970 Songs [ edit] Lovebird" song) by Leona Lewis "Lovebird" song by Manfred Mann from Up the Junction (1968) Lovebird" song by John Entwistle from Too Late the Hero (1981) Lovebird" song by Jann Browne from Tell Me Why (1990) Lovebird" by Ernest Ranglin "Love Bird" song from Love Birds (musical) Lovebird" from Steel Pier (musical) Lovebirds" song by the British indie group Dodgy from The Dodgy Album (1993) Lovebirds" song by Hot Snakes from Audit in Progress "Lovebirds" song by Purp & Patron "Lovebirds" song by Ronald and Ruby.

Studio rom-coms will not go gently into that good night. No, in 2020 they will evolve and adapt, theyll get faster, fleeter, less blindingly white, and more high concept. Case in point: the trailer for Michael Showalter s new high-octane comedy The Lovebirds, starring Issa Rae and Kumail Nanjiani. Thats right, she of Insecure and he of being swole, putting their respective comedic genii to use in a movie about a couple on the run after getting accidentally embroiled in a murder. The trailer is full of quick edits and action: Issa shooting a gun, Kumail trying and failing to kick down a door, car chases, and what appears to be a boat explosion. Theres also a Sleep No More parody, Anna Camp doing some mild torture, and Catherine Cohen dressed as a 2008 hipster. Its like Queen & Slim meets Date Night … or is it Rough Night? Maybe Game Night? Find out for yourself when it comes out on April 3. Watch Issa Rae and Kumail Nanjiani in The Lovebirds Trailer.


A couple (Issa Rae, Kumail Nanjiani) experiences a defining moment in their relationship when they are unintentionally embroiled in a bizarre crime. As their journey to clear their names takes them from one extreme – and hilarious - circumstance to the next, they must figure out how they, and their relationship, can survive the night. Programming descriptions are generated by participants and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of SXSW. Credits Director:  Michael Showalter Executive Producer:  Issa Rae, Kumail Nanjiani, Aaron Abrams, Brendan Gall, Michael Showalter, Ben Ormand Producer:  Tom Lassally, p. g. a., Oly Obst, Martin Gero, Todd Schulman, p. a., Jordana Mollick, p. a. Screenwriter:  Aaron Abrams, Brendan Gall Cinematographer:  Brian Burgoyne Editor:  Robert Nassau, Vince Filippone Production Designer:  Clayton Hartley Principal Cast:  Kumail Nanjiani, Issa Rae, Paul Sparks, Anna Camp, Kyle Bornheimer Contact Distributor  Paramount Pictures Primary Entry: Platinum Badge, Film Badge Secondary Entry: Music Badge, Interactive Badge, Film Festival Wristband Year:  2020 Premiere Status:  World Premiere Genre:  Comedy, Romance Country:  United States Language:  English Runtime:  86 mins.

Ladies and gentleman, meet your newest rom-com crushes. Kumail Nanjiani and Issa Rae play Jibran and Leilani, a couple on the brink of a breakup who find themselves wrapped up in a murder mystery in New Orleans — and EW has the first look. “The aspects I love the most are the rare moments of sweetness between the two leads, ” Nanjiani tells EW of the flick that reunites him with  The Big Sick  director Michael Showalter. “They spend so much of the movie bickering that the hints of what they used to be are my favorite. ” The actor, who is currently filming Marvels  Eternals, was the first to join  The Lovebirds, in theaters April 3 (stay tuned for the trailer later this week. and it was his participation, along with the script, that drew Rae to the project. The two had never met but say they were fans of each others work and quickly teamed up to help adapt the script to better fit their vision for the characters. “Initially they were written for white people which, plot-wise, would have been a different story, ” explains Rae. “Its not a story about race but we wanted to acknowledge our race and the fact that were an interracial couple. ” The re-writing period served as the actors pre-filming bonding session — they talked about their own relationships (past and present) and discussed insecurities theyve faced in their own love lives — which served them well for the heavy onslaught of night shoots. Since  The Lovebirds  takes place primarily in the wee hours, the cast “lived like vampires for two months, ” according to Rae. The majority of the plot is being kept under wraps (both stars cop to being completely surprised by the story line) but Rae teased that the team collectively changed the films ending and that the movie involves physical comedy and fight scenes. Nanjiani, for his part, offered a bit of insight into their characters mindset at the time of the above photo. “Due to — spoilers — we end up having to get new clothes at a CVS-type store, ” he explains. “Since were in such dire straits, we dont put much thought into what clothes to buy. So…thats how you end up looking if you randomly pick clothes up at a CVS. ” Adds Rae: “If youre in New Orleans and you want to blend in you, the crazier you can look the better. ” Related content: See Issa Rae and Lakeith Stanfield in  The Photograph  trailer 11 comics who need to be on your radar in 2020 See the first trailer for heartwarming immigrant series  Little America.

Critics Consensus No consensus yet. Tomatometer Not Yet Available TOMATOMETER Total Count: N/A Coming soon Release date: Apr 3, 2020 Audience Score Ratings: Not yet available The Lovebirds Ratings & Reviews Explanation The Lovebirds Videos Photos Movie Info A couple (Issa Rae & Kumail Nanjiani) experiences a defining moment in their relationship when they are unintentionally embroiled in a murder mystery. As their journey to clear their names takes them from one extreme. and hilarious. circumstance to the next, they must figure out how they, and their relationship, can survive the night. Rating: R (for sexual content, language throughout and some violence) Genre: Directed By: Written By: In Theaters: Apr 3, 2020 wide Studio: Paramount Pictures Cast News & Interviews for The Lovebirds Critic Reviews for The Lovebirds There are no critic reviews yet for The Lovebirds. Keep checking Rotten Tomatoes for updates! Audience Reviews for The Lovebirds There are no featured reviews for The Lovebirds because the movie has not released yet (Apr 3, 2020. See Movies in Theaters The Lovebirds Quotes Movie & TV guides.

YouTube. The lovebirds watch movie download. The lovebirds watch movie release. Facebook is showing information to help you better understand the purpose of a Page. See actions taken by the people who manage and post content. Page created - January 28, 2019 Every happy couple has one moment that defines their relationship. Sometimes its bacon grease to the face. Watch the official trailer for # TheLovebirds starring Issa Rae and Kumail Nanjiani – In theatres April 3. It looks like you may be having problems playing this video. If so, please try restarting your browser. Close The Lovebirds - Official Trailer.

The Lovebirds Watch movie reviews

Lovebirds with movie tickets pictures. The lovebirds watch movie youtube. The comedic duo play a couple on the rocks, and suddenly forced to grapple with a nutty crime. “The Lovebirds” Skip Bolen The big screen murder mystery is back. Hot on the heels of Rian Johnsons Agatha Christie-inspired (and now Oscar-nominated) “Knives Out” and Kenneth Branaghs smash hit (and actual Agatha Christie adaptation) “Murder on the Orient Express” (soon to be followed by sequel “Death on the Nile”) the cineplex crowd seems to have fallen back in love with whodunits of all stripes. Next up: “ The Lovebirds, ” a wacky murder mystery that also happens to feature comedic all-stars Issa Rae and Kumail Nanjiani as a couple in emotional trouble that is suddenly forced to deal with, well, murder trouble. Per the films official synopsis: “A couple (Issa Rae & Kumail Nanjiani) experiences a defining moment in their relationship when they are unintentionally embroiled in a murder mystery. As their journey to clear their names takes them from one extreme – and hilarious – circumstance to the next, they must figure out how they, and their relationship, can survive the night. ” Previous coverage has hinted that the “defining moment” is more like “oh, were about to break up, ” which would put anyone on edge, particularly people suddenly thrust into a real-life game of “hey, who killed that guy? ” The comedy reunites Nanjiani with his “The Big Sick” director Michael Showalter, which should please fans of that breakout rom-com, which earned Nanjiani and his wife Emily V. Gordon an Oscar nomination for their loving retelling of their own unorthodox romance. “The Lovebirds” also stars comedy standouts Paul Sparks, Anna Camp, and Kyle Bornheimer, so the potential for laughs (and again, murder) here is high. “The Lovebirds” will premiere at the SXSW Film Festival in March, where it will screen in the company of other funny headlining titles, including Judd Apatows “The King of Staten Island, ” which will open the festival. The films likely splashy debut will be followed by an April 3 theatrical release from Paramount Pictures. Check out the films first trailer below. Sign Up: Stay on top of the latest breaking film and TV news! Sign up for our Email Newsletters here.

The lovebirds watch movie reviews. The lovebirds watch movie cast. The Lovebirds Watch movie page imdb. The lovebirds watch movie torrent. Production Notes from IMDbPro Status: Completed, See complete list of in-production titles  » Updated: 27 February 2019 More Info: See more production information about this title on IMDbPro. Edit Storyline A couple (Issa Rae and Kumail Nanjiani) experiences a defining moment in their relationship when they are unintentionally embroiled in a murder mystery. As their journey to clear their names takes them from one extreme - and hilarious - circumstance to the next, they must figure out how they, and their relationship, can survive the night. Written by Paramount Pictures Plot Summary Add Synopsis Motion Picture Rating ( MPAA) Rated R for sexual content, language throughout and some violence Details Release Date: 3 April 2020 (USA) See more  » Also Known As: The Lovebirds Company Credits Technical Specs See full technical specs  » Did You Know? Trivia Kumail Nanjiani and Issa Rae both star in an HBO show. Nanjiani was on "Silicon Valley" 2014 - 2019) and Rae is currently on "Insecure" 2016. See more ».

The lovebirds watch movie english. Were only 16 days into 2020, but is anyone having a better year than Issa Rae? Just this week alone, the multi-hyphenate went viral while announcing the all-male best director nominees for the 92nd annual Academy (“congratulations to those men”) and unveiled a first look at the new season of her breakout HBO hit, Insecure, which returns April 12. Thursday has brought more even more Issa Rae to the conversation: she stars opposite Kumail Nanjiani in the new trailer for The Lovebirds, a romantic comedy turned thriller turned Eyes Wide Shut parody from director Michael Showalter (who reunites with Nanjiani after directing the actor in his breakout, The Big Sick. In the film, which will debut in theaters in April following a world premiere at SXSW in March, Rae and Nanjiani play a couple on the verge of a break-up who wind up accessories to murder. Chaos ensues, with the pair trying to clear their names and solve the crime before the authorities can throw them in jail. Along the way, they encounter a foul-mouthed teen, a frying pan filled with bacon grease, and an assembly of mask-wearing aristocrats ripped out of the late Stanley Kubrick 's oeuvre (or, as Rae's character more presently references, some " Handmaid's Tale bullshit. According to Rae, The Lovebirds was initially written with white actors in mind, which, plot-wise, would have been a different story. the actress told Entertainment Weekly in a recent interview. "It's not a story about race but we wanted to acknowledge our race and the fact that we're an interracial couple. she added. The Lovebirds will actually be Raes second movie of 2020; on Valentine's Day, Rae will star opposite Lakeith Stanfield in The Photograph, director Stella Meghie 's romance thats already poised for massive success; since its release last year, the trailer for The Photograph has been viewed more than 5 million times on the official Universal Pictures YouTube page. Starring Rae and Nanjiani with support from Paul Sparks ( House of Cards) and Anna Camp ( Pitch Perfect) The Lovebirds is out April 3.



Movie Stream The Hunt imdb id tt8244784 eng sub Watch Here





Nick Cuse
Synopsis The Hunt is a movie starring Ethan Suplee, J.C. MacKenzie, and Emma Roberts. Twelve strangers wake up in a clearing. They don't know where they are, or how they got there. They don't know they've been chosen - for a very specific
Craig Zobel
Release Year 2020
The hunt 2012.

If your theater plays the film. boycott them forever. Hit them in the pocket book

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