a chamada da selva

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Buck did not read the newspapers, or the would have know that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tide-water dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego. Because men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal, and because steamship and transportation companies were booming the find, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted 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.

Buck lived at big house in the sun- Kissed Santa Clara Valley. Judge Miller’s place, it was called. It stood back from the road, half hidden among the trees, through which glimpses could be caught of the wide cool veranda that ran around its four sides. The house was approached by gravelled drive-ways which wound about the through wide-spreading lawns and under the interlacing boughs of tall poplars. At the rear things were on even a more spacious scale than the front. There were great stables where a dozen grooms and boys held forth, rows of vine-clad servants’ cottages and endless and orderly array of outhouses, long grape arbours, green pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then there was the pumping plant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where Judge Miller’s boys took their morning plunge and kept cool in the hot afternoon.

And over this great demesne Buck ruled. Here he was born, and here he had lived the four years of his life. It was true, there were other dogs. There could not but be other dogs on so vast a place, but they did not count. They came and went, resided in the populous kennels, or lived obscurely in the recesses of the house after the fashion of Toots, the Japanese pug, or Ysabel, the Mexican hairless, - strange creatures that rarely put nose out of doors or set foot  to ground. On the other hand, there were the fox terriers, a score of them at least, who yelped fearful promises at Toots and Ysabel looking out of the windows at them and protected by a legion of housemaids armed with brooms and moops.

But Dick was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The whole realm was his. He plunged into the swimming tank or went hunting with the Judges sons; he escorted Mollie and Alice, the judge’s daughters, on long twilight or early morning rambles; on wintry nights he lay at the Judges feet before the roaring library fire; he carried the Judges grandsons on his back or rolled them in the grass, and guarded their footsteps through wild adventures down to the fountain in the stable yard, and even beyond, where the paddocks were, and the berry patches. Among the terries he stalked imperiously, and Toots and Ysabel he utterly ignored, for he was king,- King over all creeping, crawling, flying things of Judge Millers place, humans included.

His father, Elmo, a huge St Bernand, had been the Judges inseparable companion, and Buck did fair to follow in the way of his father, He was not so large-he weighed only one hundred and forty pounds,-for his mother, Shep , had been a Scotch shepherd dog.. Nevertheless, one hundred and forty pounds, to which was added the dignity that comes of good living and universal respect, enabled him to carry himself in right royal fashion. During the fours years since his puppy-hood he had lived the life of a sated aristocrat; he had a fine pride in himself was even a trifle egotistical, as country gentleman 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 hardened his muscles; and to him; as to the cold-tubbing races, the love of water had been a tonic and a health preserver.

And this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1987, when the Klondyke  strike dragged men from all the world into the frozen North. But Buck did not read the newspaper, and he did not know that Manuel, one of the gardener’s helpers, was an undesirable acquaintance. Manuel had one besetting sin. He loved to play Chinese lottery.

Also, in his gambling, he had one besetting weakness- faith in a system; and this made his damnation certain. For to play a system requires money, while the wags of a gardeners helper do not lap over the needs of a wife and numerous progeny.

The judge was at a meeting of the Raisin Growers Association, and the boys were busy organizing an athletic club, on the memorable night of Manuel’s treachery. No one saw him and Buck go off through the orchard on what Buck imagined man; no one saw them arrive at the little flag station known as College Park. This man talked with Manuel, and money chinked between them.

You might wrap up the goods before you deliver m, the stranger said gruffly, and Manuel doubled a piece of stout rope around Bucks neck under the collar.

Twist it, an you’ll choke m plentee, said Manuel, and the stranger grunted a ready affirmative.

The Call of the Wild

Jack London

1903

A chamada da selva

Buck non lía os periódicos; se os lese tería noticia da ameaza  que o axexaba non só a el, senón a tódolos cans de forte musculatura e pelo longo e abrigoso que había desde Puget Sound a  San Diego. Os humanos, cavando na escuridade do Ártico, descubrirán un metal amarelo;as compañías de transportes e navegacións espallaran a nova da descuberta e agora miles de home collían camiño cara as terras do Norte. Eses homes precisaban cans,e os cans que lles cumprían eran cans resistentes, con músculos rexos para o esforzo e la de abondo para se defender do frío.

Buck vivía nunha grande mansión de soleado val de Santa Clara coñecida como a quinta muller do xuíz Miller. Quedaba un pouco afastada da estrada  e case escondida entre as árbores, a través das que se podía albisca-la varanda que rodeaba o edificio polas catro fachadas.Chegábase a casa por pistas de cascallo que se serpeaban polos prados baixo as pólas entrecruzadas de moi altas bindueiras. A finca aínda era mais extensa pola parte de atrás que polo fronte:alí había grandes estabulo atendidos por unha ducia de mozos e rapaces, tensións de viñas xeitosamente ordenadas, pastorizas  verdes,hortas e pomares. Había tamén unha bomba para o pozo artesiano e un grande estanque de cemento onde os fillos do xuíz Miller facían o baño matinal e se refrescaban nas tardes calorosas.

Buck era o amo daquel territorio todo. Alí nacera e alí pasara os catro anos da súa vida. Certo que había outros cans como e natural nunha finca tan grande, pero non contaban.

Ían e viñan, estaban no canil colectivo ou vivían escuramente nos recantos interiores da mansión, como Toots, o cadeliño Xaponés, ou Ysabel, a pelona mexicana, criaturas extrañas que raramente asomaban o fociño fora das portas ou puñan o pe no chan. No exterior estaban os fox-terrier, unha vintena, mais ou menos, que ouveaban queixosas protestas a Toots  e Ysabel cando estes asomaban pola fiestra protexidos por unha lexión de criadas armadas de  vasoiras e freganzos.

Pero Buck non era can doméstico nin de canil. Toda a herdade era súa. Mergullábase no estanque ou ía de caza cos fillos do seu amo; escoltaba a  Mollie e Alice, as fillas, nos seus paseos matinais ou vespertinos; estomballábase ós pes do señor Miller onda o ledo lume da biblioteca nas noites de inverno; levaba ó lombo ós netos do xuíz facéndoos rolar pola herba e coidábaos cumpridamente cando ousaban achegarse á fonte ou ás cortes ou daban en `perderse polos prados e pomares.. Entre os terries campaba con arrogancia, e a Toots e Ysabel ignorábaos totalmente,pois el era o rei. Rei de todo canto se deslizase, andase ou voase pola quinta do xuíz Miller, os humanos incluídos.

O seu pai, Elmo, un enorme San Bernardo, fora compañeiro inseperable do xuíz, e Buck ía camiño de segui-los pasos do seu proxenitor. Non era tan grande coma el- pesaba só cento corenta libras- porque a nai, Shep, fora unha pastora escocesa. Así e todo, esas cento corenta libras, sumadas á dignidade que lle viña da boa vida e o respeto  universal, dábanlle unha prestancia de auténtico soberano.

Durante catro anos, desde que era un cadeliño, levara unha vida regalada de aristócrata que o tornou  algo fachendoso e egoísta, ó xeito dese enfonchados fidalgos de aldea que, de non saíren da súa illa, coidan se-los amos do mundo. Pero Buck soubo salvarse de ser un mixiriqueiro can doméstico, As carreiras, as cazatas e os outros deleites propios da vida ó aire libre axudárono a evita-las graxas e a robustece –los músculos.

Ademais, a súa afición  polo auga, que lle viña de raza, era un tónico e unha defensa para a súa saúde.

Esta era a vida que levaba Buck aquel ano de 1987, cando os descubrimentos do Klondie arrastraron xente de todo o mundo cara ó xelado Norte. Pero Buck non lía os periódicos nin sabía que Manuel, un dous axudantes do xardineiro, era persoa pòuco de fiar. Manuel tiña ademais un mal vicio: devecía pola  lotería china; e unha debilidade ru9inosa : confiaba nas apostas feitas con método. Xogar sistematicamente esixe moitos artos, e o salario dun axudante de xardineiro escasamente dá para manter unha muller e unha proxenie numerosa.

O xuíz ía nunha reunión da Asociación de Viticultores e os mozos andaban ocupados en organizar un equipo deportivo aquela memorable noite de traicion  de Manuel. Ninguén o viu atravesa-la escuridade das hortas con Buck, e o can coidou ó apeadeiro de College Park, non sendo un home solitario que alí agardaba. Ese home falou con Manuel e as moedas chinguelearon ó cambiar de dono.

- Xa podías ata-la mercancía antes de darma-rosmou o descoñecido.

Manuel colleu unha corda e acadarmou a Buck polo pescozo :

- Basta tirar do adibal para que afogue – dixo, e outro roufeñou satisfeito.