Spring arrived and Gray Beaver's family returned to the home camp. White Fang was now a year old and the largest dog on Mit-sah's sled team.
One day when an older dog tried to steal meat from White Fang, the young wolf attacked without thinking. The older dog snarled and his hair bristled.
White Fang, still feeling young and small, cowered as the large dog moved closer. But when the dog sniffed the meat, anger swelled in White Fang. The wolf had ruled over his teammates for months. Now a dog was trying to steal from him! White Fang knocked the dog to the ground, and bit deep. When the dog finally broke free, he ran away whimpering, his tail tucked between his legs.
After that White Fang no longer cowered when walking among the older dogs. He stepped with confidence, unafraid of any of them. The puppies had to stay out of the way of the older dogs, and tolerate having their meat stolen. But not White Fang—in the eyes of the older dogs, he was now an equal.
In midsummer White Fang returned from a hunting trip to find a new tepee at the edge of the camp. He trotted over to investigate and found himself face-to-face with Kiche. He paused and looked at her. He remembered her vaguely, but she didn't seem to have any memory of him. As her lip curled back, a rush of old memories flooded the young wolf's mind. This was his mother! He bounded toward her joyously, but she met him with sharp fangs that slashed open his cheek. Puzzled, he backed away.
This was not Kiche's fault. A wolf-mother is not made to remember her cubs from previous years. Kiche had a new litter of cubs, and her instinct now was to protect them.
One of the cubs clambered over to White Fang. White Fang sniffed the cub curiously, and Kiche attacked again. He backed farther away.
As Kiche licked her cub, White Fang's memories receded. The role Kiche had played in his life was forgotten. He had learned to get along without her.
Kiche attacked again, and White Fang backed away again. He still remembered the law that forbade him from fighting with a female of his kind. Finally the young wolf turned his head and left.
The months went by, and Gray Beaver came to prize White Fang above all the other dogs. The wolf was strong and ferocious. His one weakness, however, was that he could not stand being laughed at by the gods. If White Fang heard men laughing at him, he would fly into a terrible rage. He knew never to take out this anger on his gods, so it was the other dogs who suffered his wrath at these times.
When White Fang was three years old, there was a famine among the Indians. In the summer they found no fish in the river. In the winter the caribou didn't follow their usual migration route, leaving the Indians with nothing to hunt. The situation in the camp was dire. The women and children went hungry so that the men could eat and have strength for their search for meat. Eventually the gods ate their leather moccasins and mittens, and the dogs ate the sled harnesses. Any dog too weak to fight became prey, both for the gods and other dogs. The wisest and strongest dogs abandoned the camp and fled into the wild. Many dogs were hunted and eaten by wolves.
In this time of misery, White Fang fled into the wilderness. He was better suited to this life than the other dogs, for he had been raised in the wild. He excelled at stalking small living things. He'd lie concealed for hours, waiting for a squirrel to appear. When he couldn't find squirrels, White Fang dug wood mice from their burrows. On more than one occasion, he returned to the camp. But he did not go to sit near the fire. Instead he lurked in the nearby forest, robbing any snare that held a hanging rabbit.
During his days in the wild, White Fang came across a half-starved wolf. The two animals considered each other for a moment. Then White Fang ran the wolf down, killed him, and ate him.
Days later White Fang fought with a lynx and won. For two days he feasted on this kill, which made him strong enough to outrun the hungry wolf pack that chased him down the following day. During the chase White Fang managed to circle around and sneak up on one of his exhausted pursuers, killing and devouring him. While every other creature in the wild seemed to suffer and fall prey to starvation, White Fang thrived.
White Fang wandered far, and eventually wound up in the valley where he'd been born. He came across his old lair and found Kiche with one surviving cub. She too had fled to the wild. She snarled at White Fang, and he moved on, eventually arriving at the lair of the lynx that he and Kiche had fought and killed so long ago. Finding the lair empty, White Fang settled in to rest for a day.
Spring arrived and then came summer. One bright afternoon White Fang came around a large rock and saw Lip-lip. No longer large and frightening, the wolf's enemy now looked weak and miserable. Remembering all the suffering he'd endured from Lip-lip, White Fang felt his hair bristle. His lip curled, and a low snarl broke the silence. As Lip-lip started to back away, White Fang struck, sinking his teeth deep into the dog's throat. He then circled around his old enemy, watching the life flicker out of him.
A week later White Fang came to the edge of the forest, where a stretch of open land sloped down to the river. There was a camp, and White Fang knew right away it was the camp of his gods, set up in a new location. But the smells and sounds were different from those during the famine. Now White Fang heard laughter. The smell of fish cooking filled the air.
White Fang hurried into the camp and looked for Gray Beaver's tepee. Gray Beaver wasn't there, but his wife, Kloo-Kooch, was.
"White Fang!" she cried out, glad to see him. "You've returned!"
She brought over a whole fish, and White Fang ate it heartily. Then he lay down and waited for his master to return.