The Call of the Wild

On wintry nights, Raphael would lay at Judge Miller's feet

before the roaring library fire.

During the four years since his birth, he had lived a life of ease

on the Miller farm in the Santa Clara Valley,

where he was indulged and lavished with attention.

By the fall of 1897, he had developed

a fine animal pride in himself,

to which was added the dignity that comes with affection and respect.

Never having wandered far from the Miller farm,

there was no way he could have imagined another way of life

beyond his comfortable, civilized existence.

Raphael's fine instincts wouldn't allow him to become a mere pampered house dog.

He was neither house dog nor kennel dog,

but was given the full run of the farm.

The whole realm was his,

and he loved plunging into the swimming hole

or wrangling with the Miller children,

who treated him with inseparable devotion.

Sensing his special favor and the dignity of his breed,

the other domestic animals where quick to recognize that the realm was his.

In the animal kingdom of Judge Miller's farm,

Raphael was the animal king.

You're getting the best. Always have and always will.

You eat just like the folks around here, huh?

Come here, baby.

But what's wrong with that, huh? What's wrong with that?

Raph...

You're a gentleman.

Come, Raphael! Let's have a nice walk.

These last days,

I lost big in the lottery.

I have five children.

You know that, don't you?

Sure, you know it.

You got a big, smart head.

You're the smartest dog I ever seen in my life.

Well...

A man's got to live.

Just... Just like a dog's got to live.

It's not easy.

Look...

If this dog cannot pull, no dog can.

He weighs 140 pounds and he is as smart as a man.

Sure.

He's smarter than some of them.

You know, he always knows what you're thinking.

Well, maybe he does sometimes, but he don't now.

You say $50.

Here it is.

I tell you, I can use every big dog I can get up there.

Up there, they really need 'em.

Dogs wear out so fast up there,

we don't have time to sell 'em or buy 'em.

Gold, amigo. Gold! They done struck it.

Let's get him on.

You twist this and you can choke him plenty.

Just be careful, you could choke him to death.

Well, you can lay all your damn flower money that that ain't gonna happen.

Come on, boy.

He sure does weigh 140 pounds.

Judge Miller, he's gonna fire me for this.

He knows Raphael ain't gonna run away just like that.

He has everything he wants right here.

He had everything.

Giddap! Hah! Hah!

Adio Raphael.

Having known nothing but human kindness and affection,

Raphael had learned to trust man,

and his betrayal was beyond his understanding.

He had never experienced human cruelty before,

and a sleeping anger in him was awakened.

He longed for the moment he would return to the comfort and security

of Judge Miller's fireside.

How much will you pay for him, then?

Oh, I think he's worth about $150.

A hundred and fifty.

And you might make a man millions of dollars.

Oh, that's good.

That thing can't get out of there, can he?

Looks to me like, you got yourself a mad dog on your hands.

No, not no more. Now you got one on your hands.

But don't worry. I got him shut in there real tight for you.

Moved about from wagon to train to cart,

Raphael's powerful sense of direction had become confused,

and should he be let free by his strange captors,

there was a growing panic

that he would be unable to find his way back to Judge Miller's farm

and familiar things and human kindness.

Because men groping in the Arctic darkness

had discovered the glimmer of gold,

and because steamship and transportation companies were exploiting the find,

thousands of men were rushing into the Northern wild,

leaving the comforts and codes of civilization behind them.

These men needed 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.

At last, one morning the propeller was quiet,

and the ship was pervaded with an atmosphere of excitement.

Raphael felt, as did the other now nameless dogs,

that a change was at hand.

At the same time, he was oppressed

by a sense of impending calamity.

Hey, buddy.

Hey, Rich.

Ready for the snow, are you?

His ill-treatment and captivity had flung the dog into a rage.

His eyes had turned bloodshot

and he had all the appearance of a mad and raging beast.

He had never attacked a man before,

never having had cause to consider him an enemy.

But his torment inflamed his wrath to a fever-pitch,

which would be unleashed upon the first tormentor

who gave him the opportunity of attack.

Oh, look at the size of it!

He looks like a mad dog, too.

He looks like he's got the hydrophobia.

You see all that white stuff on his jaws?

All right!

Come on out, you red-eyed devil.

Break it open, boys.

You see what I mean? I sure do.

He sure ain't no slouch at dog breaking,

but I'd rather break horses any day of the week.

It's less insidious than what he's doing.

No, I believe he likes it.

I think he'd do it for nothing.

Come on, get up, big 'un. You got a lot to learn.

Get in there! Watch out!

Come on dog, get up!

It all depends on how much you want.

If I was you, I'd give up now.

Save myself some trouble.

I believe you done got too rough on him, Digger.

I believed you killed this one.

No, I never killed but one dog in my life.

That's when I was just starting out.

He was almost as big as this red-eyed devil

but he didn't have the guts this one's got.

Take old red-eyes, here.

He's learned something.

He ain't never gonna forget that.

I guaran-damn-tee you it.

He had learned once and for all

that he stood no chance against a man with a club.

It was a lesson he was never to forget.

A man with a club was a law-giver,

a master to be obeyed if he was to survive.

That's one dog, huh? That's worth two dogs.

How much?

Three hundred dollars, Francois.

And I'm making you a present at that.

I don't sell them to you just for the money.

I want you to come back down here and buy more dogs,

and you ain't gonna do it if the powdered snow is blowing

over your bones up there in some God-forsaken territory.

Where you headed this time, Frenchie?

No matter where it is, I know you ain't gonna beat me there.

You like to beat these dogs too much.

Well, you can tell me.

I ain't going to tell nobody.

Toocabin. I'm going Toocabin.

Northeast?

Good God, man!

There ain't nothing up there but freezing to death.

You gonna leave your bones in the ice.

That's plenty of them there already.

Are you the one that bought this dog?

Well, I bought him, but I didn't buy him.

He's the last dog I need for the best deal I put together.

But you know I've only got about $200.

And Digger, he wants three.

Where do you come from?

California.

Been up here a couple of days looking for a big dog.

Then where do you go?

A place called Bella Coola,

if I can find anybody that knows the way.

How you gonna get there?

You've got no sled, no team.

Only got a cheap coat and a fine hat.

I'm gonna walk.

Besides the dog, you left out two things I'm gonna take with me.

My rifle and a sack of salt.

I can live anywhere there's game.

This ain't California, mon ami, all right?

No, but it's the woods.

I've never had any trouble in the woods.

You know, I believe you when you say it.

Now, you got $100, too.

We buy the dog. That's all I need.

Then you and me get on a train.

Well, he may be all you need to get your team together,

but I've got to get to Bella Coola.

I tell you, I'm going up that way.

I know all about Bella Coola.

You throw in with me and I'll get you there.

I might as well break into California as well.

Him and you, huh?

Okay.