Before he had recovered from the shock caused by the tragic passing of Curly,
he received another shock. Francois fastened upon him an arrangement of straps
and buckles. It was a harness, such as he had seen the grooms put on the
horses at home. And as he had seen horses work, so he was set to work, hauling
Francois on a sled to the forest that fringed the valley, and returning with a
load of firewood. Though his dignity was sorely hurt but thus being made a
draught animal, he was too wise to rebel. He buckled down with a will and did
his best, though it was all new and strange. Francois was stern, demanding
instant obedience, and by virtue of his whip receiving instant obedience;
while Dave, who was an experienced wheeler, nipped Buck's hind quarters
whenever he was in error. Spitz was the leader, likewise experienced, and
while he could not always get at Buck, he growled sharp reproof now and again,
or cunningly threw his weight in the traces to jerk Buck into the way he
should go. Buck learned easily, and under the combined tuition of his two
mates and Francois made remarkable progress. Ere they returned to camp he knew
enough to stop at "ho," to go ahead at "mush," to swing wide on the bends, and
to keep clear of the wheeler when the loaded sled shot downhill at their
heels.
"T'ree vair' good dogs," Francois told Perrault. "Dat Buck, heem pool lak
hell. I tich heem queek as anyt'ing."
By afternoon, Perrault, who was in a hurry to be on the trail with his
despatches, returned with two more dogs. "Billee" and "Joe," he called them,
two brothers, and true huskies both. Sons of the one mother though they were,
they were as different as day and night. Billee's one fault was his excessive
good nature, while Joe was the very opposite, sour and introspective, with a
perpetual snarl and a malignant eye. Buck received them in comradely fashion,
Dave ignored them, while Spitz proceeded to thrash first one and then the
other. Billee wagged his tail appeasingly, turned to run when he saw that
appeasement of no avail, and cried (still appeasingly) when Spitz's sharp
teeth scored his flank. But no matter how Spitz circled, Joe whirled around on
his heels to face him, mane bristling, ears laid back, lips writhing and
snarling, jaws clipping together as fast as he could snap, and eyes
diabolically gleaming-the incarnation of belligerent fear. So terrible was his
appearance that Spitz was forced to forego disciplining him; but to cover his
own discomfiture he turned upon the inoffensive and wailing Billee and drove
him to the confines of the camp.