As the fall of the year came on, the moose appeared in greater abundance, moving slowly down to meet the winter in the lower and less rigorous valleys.Buck had already dragged down a stray part-grown calf; but he wished strongly for larger and more formidable quarry, and he came upon it one day on the divide at the head of the creek.A band of twenty moose had crossed over from the land of streams and timber, and chief among them was a great bull.He was in a savage temper, and, standing over six feet from the ground, was as formidable an antagonist as even Buck could desire.Back and forth the bull tossed his great palmated antlers, branching to fourteen points and embracing seven feet within the tips.His small eyes burned with a vicious and bitter light, while he roared with fury at sight of Buck.
From the bull's side, just forward of the flank, protruded a feathered arrow-end, which accounted for his savageness.Guided by that instinct which came from the old hunting days of the primordial world, Buck proceeded to cut the bull out from the herd.It was no slight task.He would bark and dance about in front of the bull, just out of reach of the great antlers and of the terrible splay hoofs which could have stamped his life out with a single blow.Unable to turn his back on the fanged danger and go on, the bull would be driven into paroxysms of rage.At such moments he charged Buck, who retreated craftily, luring him on by a simulated inability to escape.But when he was thus separated from his fellows, two or three of the younger bulls would charge back upon Buck and enable the wounded bull to rejoin the herd.
There is a patience of the wild--dogged, tireless, persistent as life itself--that holds motionless for endless hours the spider in its web, the snake in its coils, the panther in its ambuscade; this patience belongs peculiarly to life when it hunts its living food; and it belonged to Buck as he clung to the flank of the herd, retarding its march, irritating the young bulls, worrying the cows with their half-grown calves, and driving the wounded bull mad with helpless rage.For half a day this continued.Buck multiplied himself, attacking from all sides, enveloping the herd in a whirlwind of menace, cutting out his victim as fast as it could rejoin its mates, wearing out the patience of creatures preyed upon, which is a lesser patience than that of creatures preying.