They did not bother to look after the causes of his conduct. They saw
only the effects, and the effects were bad. He was a sneak and a thief,
a mischief-maker, a fomenter of trouble; and irate squaws told him to his
face, the while he eyed them alert and ready to dodge any quick-flung
missile, that he was a wolf and worthless and bound to come to an evil
end.
He found himself an outcast in the midst of the populous camp. All the
young dogs followed Lip-lip's lead. There was a difference between White
Fang and them. Perhaps they sensed his wild-wood breed, and
instinctively felt for him the enmity that the domestic dog feels for the
wolf. But be that as it may, they joined with Lip-lip in the
persecution. And, once declared against him, they found good reason to
continue declared against him. One and all, from time to time, they felt
his teeth; and to his credit, he gave more than he received. Many of
them he could whip in single fight; but single fight was denied him. The
beginning of such a fight was a signal for all the young dogs in camp to
come running and pitch upon him.
Out of this pack-persecution he learned two important things: how to take
care of himself in a mass-fight against him--and how, on a single dog, to
inflict the greatest amount of damage in the briefest space of time.
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