His father, Elmo, a huge St Bernard, had been the Judge's inseparablecompanion, and Buck bid fair to follow in the way of his father. He wasnot so large, ——he weighed only one hundred and forty pounds, ——for hismother, Shep, had been a Scotch shepherd dog. Nevertheless, one hundredand forty pounds, to which was added the dignity that comes of good livingand 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 satedaristocrat; he had a fine pride in himself, was even a trifle egotistical, ascountry 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 hardenedhis muscles; and to him, as to the cold-tubbing races, the love of water hadbeen a tonic and a health preserver.
And this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, whenthe Klondyke strike dragged men from all the world into the frozenNorth. But Buck did not read the newspapers, and he did not know thatManuel, one of the gardener's helpers, was an undesirable acquaintance.Manuel had one besetting sin. He loved to play Chinese lottery. Also, inhis gambling, he had one besetting weakness faith in a system; and thismade his damnation certain. For to play a system requires money, whilethe wages of a gardener's helper do not lap over the needs of a wife andnumerous progeny.
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