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a man with a club was a lawgiver, a master to be obeyed, though not necessarily conciliated.
They were savages, all of them, who knew no law but the law of club and fang.
No fair play. Once down, that was the end of you.
the ancient song surged through him and he
came into his own again;
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 ...
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the deeps of his nature, and of the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going b...
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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.
The time had come. It was to the death.
Francois called Buck to him, threw his arms around him, wept over him.
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.
And truly Buck was the Fiend incarnate, raging at their heels and dragging them down like deer as they raced through the trees.
