Белый клык / White Fang

Not only were the starving wolves growing bolder, but lack of sleep was telling upon Henry.[12 - to be telling upon sb. – сказываться на ком-л.] He dozed, crouching by the fire, the blankets about his shoulders, the axe between his knees, and on either side a dog pressing close against him. He awoke once and saw in front of him, not a dozen feet away, a big grey wolf, one of the largest of the pack. The brute deliberately stretched himself, like a lazy dog, looking upon him as if, in truth, he were just a delayed meal that was soon to be eaten.

The wolves reminded Henry of children gathered around a table and waiting for the permission to begin to eat. And he was the food they were to eat! He wondered how and when the meal would begin.

He grew suddenly fond of his body, of his flesh that worked so fine. Then he looked fearfully at the wolf-circle drawn around him: this wonderful body of his was no more than much meat, to be torn by their hungry fangs, like the moose or the rabbit.

He came out of a doze to see the red-hued she-wolf before him. The two dogs were whimpering and snarling at his feet, but she took no notice of them. She was looking at the man, and for some time he returned her look. There was nothing scary about her. She just looked at him with a great wistfulness of hunger. He was the food, and the sight of him excited her. Her mouth opened, the saliva dropped down in anticipation.

A spasm of fear went through him. He reached for a brand to throw at her, but before his fingers had closed on it, she sprang back into safety.

He glanced at the hand that held the brand, and in the same instant he seemed to see a vision of those same fingers being crushed and torn by the white teeth of the she-wolf. Never before had he been so fond of his body.

All night, with burning brands, he fought off the hungry pack. Morning came, but for the first time the light of day did not frighten the wolves. The man waited in vain for them to go.

They remained in a circle about him and his fire, showing an arrogance of possession that shook his courage.

He made one desperate attempt to go on the trail. But the moment he left the fire, the boldest wolf leaped for him. He saved himself by springing back, the jaws snapping together six inches from his leg.

The night was a repetition of the night before, save that the need for sleep was too great. The snarling of his dogs was losing its efficacy.