"Jack London. The Call of the Wild (Сборник из 7 рассказов на англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

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.