The man was badly frightened.It was not so much White Fang's ferocity as it was his silence that unnerved the groom.Still protecting his throat and face with his torn and bleeding arm, he tried to retreat to the barn.
And it would have gone hard with him had not Collie appeared on the scene.
As she had saved Dick's life, she now saved the groom's.She rushed upon White Fang in frenzied wrath.She had been right.She had known better than the blundering gods.All her suspicions were justified.Here was the ancient marauder up to his old tricks again.
The groom escaped into the stables, and White Fang backed away before Collie's wicked teeth, or presented his shoulder to them and circled round and round.But Collie did not give over, as was her wont, after a decent interval of chastisement.On the contrary, she grew more excited and angry every moment, until, in the end, White Fang flung dignity to the winds and frankly fled away from her across the fields.
"He'll learn to leave chickens alone," the master said."But can't give him the lesson until I catch him in the act."Two nights later came the act, but on a more generous scale than the master had anticipated.White Fang had observed closely the chicken-yards and the habits of the chickens.In the night-time, after they had gone to roost, he climbed to the top of a pile of newly hauled lumber.From there he gained the roof of a chicken-house, passed over the ridgepole and dropped to the ground inside.A moment later he was inside the house, and the slaughter began.