There were cries from the crowd of, "Go to him, Cherokee! Besides, it did not seem to him that it was intended he should fight with the dog he saw before him. Is death an extension of the wild? White Fang had practically ceased struggling. White Fang sprang to his feet and tore wildly around, trying to shake off the bull-dog's body. Both men were on their knees, bending over the dogs. Another disconcerting thing was that it made no outcry, such as he had been accustomed to with the other dogs he had fought. White Fang went wild with rage. ", "I thought he must be somebody," was the faro-dealer's comment. He shifted his grip in a bit.". When he broke through into the ring, Beauty Smith was just in the act of delivering another kick. Sooner or later he would accomplish his purpose, get the grip that would win the battle. Tim Keenan joined one of the groups. "It's no use, Mr. Scott, you can't break 'm apart that way," Matt said at last. GradeSaver, 12 August 2006 Web. All of Häyhä's kills were accomplished in fewer than 100 days, an average of five per day at a time of year with very few daylight hours. All that saved White Fang from death was the loose skin of his neck and the thick fur that covered it. He struck Cherokee about the head savagely again and again. It was soft, and bled easily. https://warriors.fandom.com/wiki/Whitefang?oldid=1465595. Matt took hold of White Fang, ready to pull when Cherokee's jaws should be loosened. His reason was unseated by the blind yearning of the flesh to exist and move, at all hazards to move, to continue to move, for movement was the expression of its existence. It had no hair protection. "Half of that," was the dog-musher's judgment. How do the men in the story try to deny or avoid death? There was purpose in his method - something for him to do that he was intent upon doing and from which nothing could distract him. Has Cierra created her theme statement correctly? He was an apprentice named Whitepaw with Timberfur as his mentor, and he trained alongside Softpaw to become a warrior. "Look out! The bulging back of Cherokee's neck was the only portion of his body that White Fang's teeth could reach. Cherokee was puzzled, too. Here's your money. Is death an extension of the wild? When White Fang struggled, Cherokee was content merely to hold on. But if it was a bluff he intended, it did not work. White Fang still danced on, dodging and doubling, leaping in and out, and ever inflicting damage. In the meantime, he accepted all the punishment the other could deal him. Shouts of applause went up for the victor, and there were many cries of "Cherokee!" Tim Keenan continued standing over him, but Scott took no further notice of his presence. For once White Fang did not make an immediate attack. The bull-dog stood too short, while its massive jaws were an added protection. Cherokee identified himself with his instinct. He gave no sign, did not even snarl, but turned and followed after White Fang. The growl rose in the throat with the culmination of each forward-pushing movement, and ebbed down to start up afresh with the beginning of the next movement. The result was that he was slowly throttling White Fang. Beauty Smith cowered down in anticipation of the blow. It waits around every corner for him and could claim him at any moment. I'm busy.". His tufts of ears had become tassels, his neck and shoulders were slashed in a score of places, and his very lips were cut and bleeding - all from these lightning snaps that were beyond his foreseeing and guarding.
