Buck did not read the newspapers. He did not know that trouble was coming for every
big dog in California. Men had found gold in the Yukon, and these men wanted big, strong
dogs to work in the cold and snow of the north.
Buck lived in Mr Miller's big house in the sunny Santa Clara valley. There were large
gardens and fields of fruit trees around the house, and a river nearby. In a big place like this,
of course, there were many dogs. There were house dogs and farm dogs, but they were not
important.
Buck was chief dog; he was born here, and this was his place. He was four years old and
weighed sixty kilos. He went swimming with Mr Miller's sons, walking with his daughters.
He carried the grandchildren on his back, and he sat at Mr Miller's feet in front of the fire in
winter.
But this was 1897, and Buck did not know that men and dogs were hurrying to northwest
Canada to look for gold. And he did not know that Manuel, one of Mr Miller's
gardeners, needed money for his large family. One day, when Mr Miller was out, Manuel
and Buck left the garden together. It was just an evening walk, Buck thought. No one saw
them go, and only one man saw them arrive at the railway station. This man talked to
Manuel, and gave him some money. Then he tied a piece of rope around Buck's neck.
Buck growled, and was surprised when the rope was pulled hard around his neck. He
jumped at the man. The man caught him and suddenly Buck was on his back with his tongue
out of his mouth. For a few moments he was unable to move, and it was easy for the two
men to put him into the train.
When Buck woke up, the train was still moving. The man was sitting and watching him,
but Buck was too quick for him and he bit the man's hand hard. Then the rope was pulled
again and Buck had to let go.
That evening, the man took Buck to the back room of a bar in San Francisco. The barman
looked at the man's hand and trousers covered in blood.