PART V
5. CHAPTER V - THE SLEEPING WOLF
(continued)
Then came the day when the last bandage and the last plaster cast
were taken off. It was a gala day. All Sierra Vista was gathered
around. The master rubbed his ears, and he crooned his love-growl.
The master's wife called him the "Blessed Wolf," which name was
taken up with acclaim and all the women called him the Blessed
Wolf.
He tried to rise to his feet, and after several attempts fell down
from weakness. He had lain so long that his muscles had lost their
cunning, and all the strength had gone out of them. He felt a
little shame because of his weakness, as though, forsooth, he were
failing the gods in the service he owed them. Because of this he
made heroic efforts to arise and at last he stood on his four legs,
tottering and swaying back and forth.
"The Blessed Wolf!" chorused the women.
Judge Scott surveyed them triumphantly.
"Out of your own mouths be it," he said. "Just as I contended
right along. No mere dog could have done what he did. He's a
wolf."
"A Blessed Wolf," amended the Judge's wife.
"Yes, Blessed Wolf," agreed the Judge. "And henceforth that shall
be my name for him."
"He'll have to learn to walk again," said the surgeon; "so he might
as well start in right now. It won't hurt him. Take him outside."
And outside he went, like a king, with all Sierra Vista about him
and tending on him. He was very weak, and when he reached the lawn
he lay down and rested for a while.
Then the procession started on, little spurts of strength coming
into White Fang's muscles as he used them and the blood began to
surge through them. The stables were reached, and there in the
doorway, lay Collie, a half-dozen pudgy puppies playing about her
in the sun.
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