Original subtitles

On wintry nights, Raphael would lay at Judge Miller's feet

before the roaring library fire.

During the four years since his birth, he had lived a life of ease

on the Miller farm in the Santa Clara Valley,

where he was indulged and lavished with attention.

By the fall of 1897, he had developed

a fine animal pride in himself,

to which was added the dignity that comes with affection and respect.

Never having wandered far from the Miller farm,

there was no way he could have imagined another way of life

beyond his comfortable, civilized existence.

Raphael's fine instincts wouldn't allow him to become a mere pampered house dog.

He was neither house dog nor kennel dog,

but was given the full run of the farm.

The whole realm was his,

and he loved plunging into the swimming hole

or wrangling with the Miller children,

who treated him with inseparable devotion.

Sensing his special favor and the dignity of his breed,

the other domestic animals where quick to recognize that the realm was his.

In the animal kingdom of Judge Miller's farm,

Raphael was the animal king.

You're getting the best. Always have and always will.

You eat just like the folks around here, huh?

Come here, baby.

But what's wrong with that, huh? What's wrong with that?

Raph...

You're a gentleman.

Come, Raphael! Let's have a nice walk.

These last days,

I lost big in the lottery.

I have five children.

You know that, don't you?

Sure, you know it.

You got a big, smart head.

You're the smartest dog I ever seen in my life.

Well...

A man's got to live.

Just... Just like a dog's got to live.

It's not easy.

Look...

If this dog cannot pull, no dog can.

He weighs 140 pounds and he is as smart as a man.

Sure.

He's smarter than some of them.

You know, he always knows what you're thinking.

Well, maybe he does sometimes, but he don't now.

You say $50.

Here it is.

I tell you, I can use every big dog I can get up there.

Up there, they really need 'em.

Dogs wear out so fast up there,

we don't have time to sell 'em or buy 'em.

Gold, amigo. Gold! They done struck it.

Let's get him on.

You twist this and you can choke him plenty.

Just be careful, you could choke him to death.

Well, you can lay all your damn flower money that that ain't gonna happen.

Come on, boy.

He sure does weigh 140 pounds.

Judge Miller, he's gonna fire me for this.

He knows Raphael ain't gonna run away just like that.

He has everything he wants right here.

He had everything.

Giddap! Hah! Hah!

Adio Raphael.

Having known nothing but human kindness and affection,

Raphael had learned to trust man,

and his betrayal was beyond his understanding.

He had never experienced human cruelty before,

and a sleeping anger in him was awakened.

He longed for the moment he would return to the comfort and security

of Judge Miller's fireside.

How much will you pay for him, then?

Oh, I think he's worth about $150.

A hundred and fifty.

And you might make a man millions of dollars.

Oh, that's good.

That thing can't get out of there, can he?

Looks to me like, you got yourself a mad dog on your hands.

No, not no more. Now you got one on your hands.

But don't worry. I got him shut in there real tight for you.

Moved about from wagon to train to cart,

Raphael's powerful sense of direction had become confused,

and should he be let free by his strange captors,

there was a growing panic

that he would be unable to find his way back to Judge Miller's farm

and familiar things and human kindness.

Because men groping in the Arctic darkness

had discovered the glimmer of gold,

and because steamship and transportation companies were exploiting the find,

thousands of men were rushing into the Northern wild,

leaving the comforts and codes of civilization behind them.

These men needed dogs.

And the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs

with strong muscles by which to toil

and furry coats to protect them from the frost.

At last, one morning the propeller was quiet,

and the ship was pervaded with an atmosphere of excitement.

Raphael felt, as did the other now nameless dogs,

that a change was at hand.

At the same time, he was oppressed

by a sense of impending calamity.

Hey, buddy.

Hey, Rich.

Ready for the snow, are you?

His ill-treatment and captivity had flung the dog into a rage.

His eyes had turned bloodshot

and he had all the appearance of a mad and raging beast.

He had never attacked a man before,

never having had cause to consider him an enemy.

But his torment inflamed his wrath to a fever-pitch,

which would be unleashed upon the first tormentor

who gave him the opportunity of attack.

Oh, look at the size of it!

He looks like a mad dog, too.

He looks like he's got the hydrophobia.

You see all that white stuff on his jaws?

All right!

Come on out, you red-eyed devil.

Break it open, boys.

You see what I mean? I sure do.

He sure ain't no slouch at dog breaking,

but I'd rather break horses any day of the week.

It's less insidious than what he's doing.

No, I believe he likes it.

I think he'd do it for nothing.

Come on, get up, big 'un. You got a lot to learn.

Get in there! Watch out!

Come on dog, get up!

It all depends on how much you want.

If I was you, I'd give up now.

Save myself some trouble.

I believe you done got too rough on him, Digger.

I believed you killed this one.

No, I never killed but one dog in my life.

That's when I was just starting out.

He was almost as big as this red-eyed devil

but he didn't have the guts this one's got.

Take old red-eyes, here.

He's learned something.

He ain't never gonna forget that.

I guaran-damn-tee you it.

He had learned once and for all

that he stood no chance against a man with a club.

It was a lesson he was never to forget.

A man with a club was a law-giver,

a master to be obeyed if he was to survive.

That's one dog, huh? That's worth two dogs.

How much?

Three hundred dollars, Francois.

And I'm making you a present at that.

I don't sell them to you just for the money.

I want you to come back down here and buy more dogs,

and you ain't gonna do it if the powdered snow is blowing

over your bones up there in some God-forsaken territory.

Where you headed this time, Frenchie?

No matter where it is, I know you ain't gonna beat me there.

You like to beat these dogs too much.

Well, you can tell me.

I ain't going to tell nobody.

Toocabin. I'm going Toocabin.

Northeast?

Good God, man!

There ain't nothing up there but freezing to death.

You gonna leave your bones in the ice.

That's plenty of them there already.

Are you the one that bought this dog?

Well, I bought him, but I didn't buy him.

He's the last dog I need for the best deal I put together.

But you know I've only got about $200.

And Digger, he wants three.

Where do you come from?

California.

Been up here a couple of days looking for a big dog.

Then where do you go?

A place called Bella Coola,

if I can find anybody that knows the way.

How you gonna get there?

You've got no sled, no team.

Only got a cheap coat and a fine hat.

I'm gonna walk.

Besides the dog, you left out two things I'm gonna take with me.

My rifle and a sack of salt.

I can live anywhere there's game.

This ain't California, mon ami, all right?

No, but it's the woods.

I've never had any trouble in the woods.

You know, I believe you when you say it.

Now, you got $100, too.

We buy the dog. That's all I need.

Then you and me get on a train.

Well, he may be all you need to get your team together,

but I've got to get to Bella Coola.

I tell you, I'm going up that way.

I know all about Bella Coola.

You throw in with me and I'll get you there.

I might as well break into California as well.

Him and you, huh?

Okay.

I'll go get my gear.

You get the dog.

Back for my big dog.

Well, you don't mean to tell me you talked that guy into heading

for Toocabin with you.

He don't know it yet, but that's what I've done.

Well, I hope he ain't gonna mind when he does know it.

Maybe he'll put you in the traces.

He's not going to mind.

When he gets out there with Francois,

he's going to want to stay close.

And so, the dog set out

with his new masters to an unknown destination,

not knowing to what purpose he would be put.

All his days, he had never run from a fight,

but he was beginning to learn the code of the uncivilized world

where survival was paramount

and things were done not because they were right,

but because it was easier to do them and survive

than not to do them.

As their climb progressed, the temperature fell

and the crisp, cold air began to catch in his lungs.

He longed for the warmth he had enjoyed

in the sunny land of the Miller farm.

Soon, he was walking in a white, cold mush like mud.

It had very little scent and a bite like fire,

before quickly dissolving in his mouth.

It was his first experience of snow.

Takes ten weeks if the weather's good.

If the weather is no good, takes longer.

But we've got a good team. Good lead dog.

That Spitz is the best.

We'll make it.

And we'll get the gold.

All the gold in the world.

Gonna be rich.

We're gonna live in Vancouver,

Montreal, anywhere we like. Anywhere.

We go all the way to Paris from Bella Coola.

Let's just get there. Bella Coola is enough for me.

Look...

Come on.

We go up past this canyon

and then up past Sheep Camp,

and then down to Chilkoot.

And then through Scales.

And then we make Job's Glacier.

And we're lucky if we make Job's Glacier in one week.

And then we go up past the Lake Bennett,

all the way to Lake Laberge,

where they found big Mike O'Clare's body last year.

And then we go up by Pierre Noir volcano.

We get by Pierre Noir, we'll be in Bella Coola in six weeks.

That sounds about right to me.

I'm gonna be meeting two pretty good boys up there.

I just hope they got a map this size to get them there.

Hey! Get out of the way! Hey!

Hey, you big dog. Get out of the way. Move!

Hey! Get out of the way!

That dog. It better stay away from Spitz.

Where we're going, we're gonna be needing both of them dogs, hey?

Stay!

Come on. Mush!

When Francois fastened upon him an arrangement of harness

and traces such as he had seen grooms put on horses,

the dog's dignity was deeply hurt in being made a beast of burden.

But he was too wise to rebel.

Francois was stern, demanding instant obedience,

and by virtue of his whip, receiving it.

Hey, look at 'em!

Mush! Mush!

We've got to get there, Thornton. We've got to go!

That California dog, I teach him quick as anything.

This one, he looks like he can pull the devil up by the roots.

Although the toil of the harness

was at first confusing and difficult,

the new California dog settled into it and did his best.

He had been placed between two experienced dogs,

so that he might learn by their example.

He was surprised at the eagerness which animated the whole team

under the leadership of Spitz, the lead dog,

who was fiercely irritable at whatever delay or confusion

retarded their progress on the trail.

Hey, whoa!

Hey! You must never eat the snow. It drives you mad.

You must melt it down.

Then, it's the greatest water in the world.

Even more pure than rain.

Hey!

Hey! Oh.

You're getting old.

My old Davey. Come on.

Dave, man, you're lucky.

You've been with me a long time, huh? All over the Klondike.

Mon bon vieux, Davey!

Hey, big boy!

This is not like California, hey?

We get to Bella Coola, and me and Thornton will buy you a gold collar!

We get to Bella Coola, head back to Dawson.

Mush on! Mush!

His feet were not so compact and hard as the feet of the huskies.

His had softened during the many generations

since his last ancestor was tamed to civilization.

But in time, his feet grew hard to the trail

and he found he had the capacity to adapt himself

to his new existence.

Hey! Get away!

Yeah, gold fever isn't just a name.

Where I come from in California,

a lot of men are dying of gold fever right now.

Just right now, tonight.

They're all the same, those guy.

Always talking, but ain't never getting rich.

Yeah.

Yeah, a couple of friends spent a lot of time

scratching around the Sierra Madres.

We hit it a couple of times

but it was always on a tail end of somebody else's strike.

Yeah?

I heard they've cleaned those hills out pretty good.

Yeah, we met up with a fellow who'd been here.

He was with the first bunch when they made the strike at Bonanza Creek.

And all he could talk about was a place called Bella Coola.

The way he talked about it, I couldn't not believe him.

He said it was awful damn hard to get here

and it wasn't even on the map.

And he didn't make it so I figured I'd try.

At least I won't be getting somebody else's leavings.

Hey, we put this one between Spitz and Sol-leks.

He runs faster there.

But he better leave Spitz alone.

That Spitz, even after 1000 dog fights, he's still here with us.

All the others are dead.

They're dead in the great land, dead in the barrens.

And that big California dog is going to be dead in the Yukon

if he don't watch out.

Uh, this big one's going to take a lot of killing, Francois.

He must go 130, 140 pounds.

He's not just going to lie down and get chopped up.

His ability to adapt to his toil was swift,

and it wasn't long before he was moved closer to the lead.

Not only did he learn by experience,

but instincts long dead came to life again.

The domesticated generations of his breed seemed to fall from him.

His muscles became hard as iron

and he grew callous to ordinary pain.

As time passed

and the remembrance of days of warmth and affection receded in memory,

he gave up hope of ever hearing his name, Raphael, called out to him again.

He had become known simply as "The California Dog."

Come on! Mush! Mush!

Again! Mush!

Mush! Mush! Ho, mush!

Mush! Hey!

Ho! Get the dogs out!

John!

Get the dogs out! Get the dogs out!

Can't live without the dogs!

John! Yeah.

John! Help me!

John! Help me out.

Can't hold... I can't!

John! Oh! Take my hand!

Be still! Be still!

Oh! Oh!

A fire! I need fire!

A fire! I'll die without fire.

Come on.

You'll die if I don't get you dry first.

A fire.

I gotta keep warm!

Get up!

On my hands.

No hands! On your feet!

Hurry! Please.

Don't take it off.

Oh! Take it off!

Cold, man! My hand's dead.

My feet, dead.

I'll get 'em back for you, I will! Just keep moving.

Move!

All right, stay there!

Fire! I will die without fire.

You got it. You got it, man.

You got it now.

John. The dogs.

Hey? They're going to make it.

We're all going to make it.

Here, pull it up on your head.

Hi, boy. Cold, huh?

Cold, huh?

Oh, it's so cold.

Oh, you want it too, huh? You want some too.

Okay, okay. Come on.

Come on. Yeah.

Yes.

Okay, okay.

Hey, California, huh? Yeah.

There, you're good.

All right, Bean? Bean?

Good Lord, what was that?

Never heard a glacier groan?

A woman, she have a baby.

The glacier, she have the ice.

They both sound the same.

Hey, California! What's wrong with you?

You got a long way to go tomorrow, eh?

Forty miles we've got to make.

Damn lake must have froze your brains.

I fished you out and all you want to do is

push the dogs and you and me to death.

You don't have to make 40 miles in one day. Nobody up here does that.

Nobody up here is going to make the strike we're going to make.

If it's at Bella Coola, it's been there for thousands of years.

Thousands of years. It'll keep.

But you keep pushing the way you do

and the dogs won't keep and neither will we.

Hey, you just wait a couple of weeks,

and we take you to bed with us.

And the bed, she will be gold.

Gold toast, gold sheets, gold everything.

He loves the fire.

He needs to get warm like me.

The howl of the wolf

was as the cry of his ancestors.

And in a mysterious way,

he would remember back to the time when wild dogs ranged in packs

through the primeval forest.

The old days of his breed's survival

came to him without effort or discovery,

as though they had been his, always.

There was a certain pride that gripped the dogs at break of camp,

transforming them from solemn brutes into straining, eager, ambitious creatures.

A pride that held the dogs to their toil to the last gasp,

and broke their hearts if they failed or were cut out of the harness.

This was the pride which made Spitz fear the California dog's rivalry

for his lead position.

And his fear increased as he recognized

the new dog's growing strength and cunning.

Hey!

That wood is hard to chop.

It's like trying to cut up a tree that's made of iron.

Oh!

Yeah, by the time you finish,

we'll be nearly frozen to death.

If you think you can do better,

you just come out here and chop up the trunk, hey!

I come, I chop the whole trunk, uh,

the limbs, everything, huh!

It take the iron man to chop the iron tree, huh!

Give me.

Move it.

- Hey! - Hey.

Spitz! No!

- Hey! - Hey!

Spitz!

It ain't gonna happen. We've gotta stop them.

No!

Don't get in there.

Mad dog, they'll come at you two ways.

And ain't no ax going to help you. Just stay away.

I shouldn't have left them.

I knew it had to come.

If not here, then some other place.

Have to do something for Spitz.

He had been a good dog.

You not get him.

That Spitz is sleeping far out tonight.

California kill him good.

Maybe he's better off out there.

Don't have to go no further.

The thrill of battle and the kill

had a sense of familiarity, as of nothing new or strange.

It marked the completeness of his transformation back through the ages

to the ways of his wild fathers.

Under the unwritten law of club and fang,

the leadership of the team now belonged to the California dog.

It was what he had patiently waited for,

knowing one day it would be his.

He eagerly took up the duties of leadership

and where strength and judgment were required,

he quickly proved himself to be superior.

Though the dogs had grown tired and discontent,

he animated the entire team with a new solidarity

and enthusiasm for their task.

Hey, mush! Hey, mush!

Hey, mush! Go, mush!

Hey!

Ho! Ho! Ah!

Okay.

Well.

I told you the weather was going to go bad on us.

Look at the sky.

Got to move. We're moving!

Let's not work them to death.

If the weather gets bad enough,

we can dig in and let it blow on by.

I don't go this far to dig in.

Hope we get into the kind of digging we really like, Francois.

Just give it a chance.

Just how many chances do you think we've got?

We're got every chance in the world.

Okay.

Come on, mush! Mush!

In time, the dogs grew tired and terribly footsore.

No spring or rebound was left in them.

Their feet fell heavily on the trail,

jarring their bodies and doubling the fatigue of each day's travel.

It was not the dead tiredness that comes through brief and excessive effort,

from which recovery is made in a matter of hours.

But it was a dead tiredness

that comes through the slow and prolonged strength drainage

of months of toil.

There was no power of recuperation left,

no reserve strength to call upon.

It had all been used, the last least bit of it.

Every muscle, every fiber, every cell was tired.

And there was good reason for it.

In less than five months,

they had traveled over 1200 miles.

Ho!

Ho!

He was trying.

Oh, my God, he's trying. No, he cannot do it.

He no longer can do.

If he was to die in the traces...

We do not have the time for that.

Hey, Davey.

Ho, Davey.

Ah, come on.

Come on.

We'll have a walk together.

Francois?

The whole thing is a damn dream.

You know...

I dream dreams in colors.

This Klondike dream is all in two colors,

white and red.

Snow and blood.

This ain't no man's country.

It's the devil's.

Come.

Devil's mighty big up here, isn't he?

He's dead white and he doesn't care.

Mush! Mush!

This is the last. Then we get one long rest, for sure.

One really long rest. Mush!

Hey, Jack Simpson!

Last time I saw you was in Skagway.

Hey, what are you doing here, huh?

Walking round and round.

- Perrault! - Yeah.

Is that you, Perrault?

Oh, but you've got a snow blind.

Huh, yeah! Oh...

You come with us, we'll take care of you.

No! I still got 10 miles west to go before dark.

But you're going to the west and to the east

and to the north and to the south.

We just passed a line cabin.

We'll take you there and get your eyes back for you.

Hey, my old Skagway friend,

we don't let anything happen to you, huh?

We get those eyes going again, come on.

Oh, my eyes can go hang... I don't need my eyes.

When I get near the gold, I can smell it.

No matter where it is,

if it's close by, I smell it.

Whoa!

Yeah, we got just the thing for you, Simpson.

Aye, you're lucky we come along, Jack!

I'm lucky to run into my old friend from Skagway.

Come on.

Sit down there.

Aye...

That takes the burn out of frostbite.

I think it helps to clear the eyes too, eh?

And I think it's all I've got.

There.

Hey, we drink to Skagway.

And we drink to the strike that we're all going to make.

Come on, now.

Here it is.

Okay?

Yes.

What we do here, okay, could be somewhere else.

Ah, I don't want to go anywhere else.

I never knew there was anything like this

Klondike in the whole world.

I feel like I was made for it.

Thornton, you've gone Klondike crazy.

You know, Jack, I've got a crazy partner.

Yeah.

But if I had no crazy partner, no crazy team,

I wouldn't be here drinking whiskey in this place.

I am crazy.

The gold, it ain't crazy.

And I'm going to get it.

We're going to get it, too.

But we ain't gonna get it walking circles in the snow.

Where?

Well, there was a miner, two or three years back.

He'd been to a place named Toocabin.

The strike, nobody believed the strike at Toocabin.

But moi! I believe, yeah.

He came back with two dogs.

He started with 25 and he had to eat all the others.

When he came back to Dawson, he could say nothing but "Toocabin".

"Toocabin."

He was crazy.

Maybe the cold.

Maybe the dog meat, I don't know.

Tried to stop the gangrene.

Hold him down, we cut off his fingers, we...

We cut off his toes.

His nose was frozen too, but...

Could not.

Could not.

And all the time we cut, he said, "Toocabin. Toocabin."

He died of the gangrene.

Some of the others said that he stole the gold from miners

near the Chilkoot and killed them.

But I think it's a strike.

Strike at Toocabin. That's where we're going.

We're not so far from Toocabin now.

If these dogs hold out another week, we'll be there.

I wish to God I could talk you out of it.

I've been there.

That's the worst place in the whole Klondike.

You think there's gold up there, you're just plain crazy.

You just picked up on somebody's wild idea.

The way things have been, you're gonna be dead

before the spring ever gets here.

When a man comes up here, he's gotta take a chance.

Me and Thornton, we feel lucky.

We think that we know where the strike is.

We all think we know.

That's why I gotta get moving.

My God, where am I?

This feels like... You're home, Jack.

You never left.

Good God,

I've been gone all day and I never left.

I don't have 10 miles to make.

I've got 20.

Where's my gear?

Just outside.

Hey, Jack!

If you think you must go, better take this.

Eskimo whalebone.

Wear this, you're snow blind no more. Yeah?

Yeah?

There we are.

Whalebone and whiskey.

Skagway.

Dawson City.

I'll catch up with you.

Right now, I'm going.

Thornton.

I said Bella Coola.

So did you.

No, John. Toocabin is the good strike.

You come with me, we'll both be rich men.

I got two partners heading up there. I promised I'd be there.

I'm your partner, Thornton.

We go Toocabin.

You're a fool, Thornton.

You don't even know where Bella Coola is, right?

I got you as near Bella Coola as you ever get.

You will never be able to get there without no sled,

no supplies, no dog.

Without somebody that knows what he's doing, hey?

You know...

I like you, Thornton.

You've knocked me down two times,

but I still like you.

You sold me out for 100 bucks to buy that dog.

No one made you come.

You sold me out.

Nobody in the Klondike ever says that about Francois Perrault!

You sold me out!

No.

Ow!

You make me do it, John.

Take care of you, Thornton.

But I must go.

I leave you plenty of wood,

half of the bacon and most of all, the beans.

Just stay close to the stove and you're gonna make it.

I'll be back in three weeks.

Francois, you won't be back in three weeks or three years.

Or three hundred years.

I'm the only one who knows the place.

When Francois comes back from Toocabin,

he'll come back with the gold, not with the gangrene.

One thing you left out.

Where is Bella Coola?

Oh.

It's about 130 miles.

I'll leave you my compass.

The line of 272 leads you to Bella Coola in two weeks.

When your leg closes up, you get there with no trouble.

Only trouble I've had getting there, Francois, is you.

So go on, mush on out of here.

Mush! Mush! Hey! Mush!

Mush! Come on.

Hey, mush!

Come on, mush!

Go!

Mush!

Go!

Come on, mush, mush!

Hey, California. Mush!

Come on, mush! Hey!

Hey!

Hey! En avant!

Oh, hey! En avant!

Hey, mush!

Come on, mush!

Come on, mush! Allez!

Hey!

Oh, hey! En avant!

Francois!

Touch the dog again and I'll kill ya.

He's more dead than alive.

You want him?

I'll leave him for you.

Who knows, maybe you'll eat him before spring.

Come on.

You'll be my lead dog, hey?

Come on.

Stay.

Stay.

Here we are.

Now, mush!

Hey, mush! Ho!

Mush! Mush!

Mush! Hey, mush!

Ho! Mush!

Poor devil.

He really busted you up.

Hey.

I'll call you Buck.

Yeah.

Hey, Buck.

Hey, you sloppy-headed old California dog, huh?

Buck.

Hey.

Buck.

Hey, Buck, you'll find the gold, huh?

Dear God, you can all but speak.

And so, the California dog became Buck.

And for the first time, received the kindness and affection

that he had once known in distant days.

With Thornton's love and care,

he slowly recovered his strength

and sense of animal dignity.

Though the cruelty he had known from man was soon forgotten,

the primitive instincts,

which his fight for survival had aroused

were never far from him

and the sounds of the night stirred him to remembrance of old pain.

It was the song of the fear

and mystery of the cold and dark.

The song of the unnumbered generations of his breed.

We can get to where I wanna go, Buck.

I know that stuff is there.

We got the weather, leastways we got it right now.

Yeah.

We're going to Bella Coola.

Bella Coola. Huh?

There's nothing there, Buck.

We aren't to that great, good place yet, either.

Got a little ways to go.

If we get good weather...

Yeah.

I do think we're gonna get there.

My God, it even gets cold in the summertime.

We made it, Buck.

Let's get to work.

It's here. This is Bella Coola!

We found it.

It's here!

It's out here in a nice little sandy spot.

Oh. Oh, yes.

Oh, my God almighty.

Ha ha!

Here it is, Bucky!

Oh, Buck, look!

Look at this, Buck.

Oh, let me get it. Buck, look.

Look at that. Look at that, Buck!

Ha ha!

Oh, dear Buck. It's Bella Coola, Bucky!

Buck!

Hey, hey!

Hey!

Well, you did get here, huh?

I was about ready to give up on you

and keep this whole place for myself.

Yeah, well, I reckon it wouldn't have hurt

if Bella Coola had been on the map.

Didn't give me any trouble.

How are the pickings, John?

Look.

That came out of this creek

in one month's work of one man.

Now there are three of us.

God only knows how much more there is.

This stuff seems to be all through here.

Now you're here, I can get to Dawson and file a claim.

While you're gone, Stony and me here

will keep working that sluice.

Yeah, maybe we can make this place a little more liveable,

'cause it looks like we're gonna be here a while.

It shouldn't take me more than about

two weeks, and when I get back

our grandchildren aren't gonna be wanting for anything.

Whiskey?

Thank you.

I'm fine.

Mighty fine dog you got there, mister.

What is that you're playing?

To tell you the truth, I don't know what it is.

Piano broke down here about two weeks ago and...

Well, I got the only guitar in Dawson, and...

I come into here and play.

Well, you sure play it good.

Oh, I ain't all that good. But...

But if they want music, they got to have me.

I'll be back. Where are you going?

♪ It's the early morning loving

♪ That makes everything all right

♪ What happens in that little room

♪ Before the break of light

♪ It's what happens in that little room

♪ Before I walk out the door

♪ It's the early morning loving

♪ That's what I'm living for

I bet you know what I'm talking about.

Do I ever.

Well, how about this?

Uh, wait. Uh, Rose...

Rose... Rose Jane?

Well, ain't you something.

Ha ha!

Everybody is something up here, Rose!

♪ I've been working in a bawdy house

♪ Sometimes I don't know why

♪ I can't make no money

♪ No matter how hard I try

♪ But what happens with my real man

♪ Before that morning light

♪ Is that early morning loving

♪ That makes everything all right ♪

Come on.

About what time do you think

that morning sun is going to come up, Rosemary?

Well, it will come up just about any time you want it to.

Of course, you have that big old dog to keep you warm,

you don't need me.

Oh, yes I do.

I'm awful glad to see you Rosemary, I really am.

How is it?

It's good, everything up here is selling high.

Eggs, good liquor, bath.

Clean bed, me.

Buck, no!

No, Buck!

I have to go, John. I have to take care of him.

I know. Take care of yourself.

Let us have another beer over here.

There now, daddy.

You've gone and picked yourself a dog that likes to fight?

Our Billy boy here,

he's not so keen on the scrapping.

Are you boy?

But he's strong as hell.

Aren't you Billy, eh? Here you are, boy.

You know, he can pull 750 pounds.

Yeah.

Well, Buck could pull a thousand pounds.

What the hell are you saying?

All the dogs up here, there's none that can do that.

You're talking about half a ton, man.

Now there, the good Lord, he never made a dog so strong.

You know, a dog can do just so much,

but any more, that they can't do

and nobody should ever ask them to try.

Buck can do it.

You think your dog

could break a thousand pound sled loose from the ice?

And walk away with it, maybe, for say 50 yards or so, huh?

I do.

Hey! Hey, Buck. Hey.

You think you can break out a thousand pounds

and pull it away, huh?

Buck. Buck.

I got $2000 says he can't.

You must be a crazy man.

And you must have a crazy dog.

Look, fella,

I don't want to take your money.

Hmm? You can take it if you can get it.

All right.

I got my sled, right now, right outside.

And it is loaded with twenty 50 pounds bags of flour.

I don't want to take no advantage of...

Of any man.

Nor of an old dog.

All right, you're on.

I think you... You'll be sorry you ever came.

Come on, my lovely. Come on boy.

Make way out here. Coming through.

Hey, Mike, the recent teamers, take them out.

You have $500 says he can do it.

Tight.

I warned you, didn't I? You did.

Appreciate it.

I've got $500 that says he can't.

You have $500 says he can do it.

He's not going to be able to do it.

It's not possible.

Not with the runners froze in so tight.

Three to one, he can't do it.

No! I don't want to bet.

One thousand's too hard to come by.

At least, raised by me it is.

Buck, as you love me.

As you love me, Buck.

Buck!

Gee, Buck! Gee!

Gee, Buck! Gee!

Come on Buck, gee!

Gee! Gee!

Gee, Buck!

Gee, Buck! Gee!

Gee! Gee, Buck!

All right, Buck. Haw!

Haw, Buck!

Haw!

Buck, gee!

Gee, Buck! Gee!

Gee!

Gee! Gee, Buck!

All right, Buck. Mush!

Mush!

Mush!

Mush! Yeah!

Mush! Come on!

It's too much for the dog, laddie, too much.

I'm sorry I got you into this.

Now go on down there and turn the dog loose.

Mush, Buck!

Mush! Come on, Buck! Mush!

Ah, Buck! Mush!

Mush, Buck!

Mush! Mush!

Buck! Mush!

Mush, Buck! Come on, Buck! Come on!

Mush!

Come on, Buck! Come on, Buck!

Mush! Mush!

Ha! Buck! Ha! Buck!

Go! Mush, Buck! Mush!

Go Buck! Mush! Mush!

Mush! Mush! Mush!

Come on! Mush, Buck!

Come on, Buck! Mush! Mush!

Mush! Mush!

Whoo!

What a dog!

Terrible fool.

Buck?

Here is your money.

I'll tell you, I wouldn't have missed it for anything.

Oh, he... He's a lovely beast.

I tell you,

I'll give you another thousand for the dog.

Well, is there anything wrong?

I...

You can go to hell, sir.

Whoo! Drinks on the house!

Come on, Buck, settle down.

I'm trying to catch you a big fish now.

Hey, where you going, Buck?

This is the kind of work I really don't mind.

Despite the love Buck had for John Thornton,

the claims of mankind slipped

farther and farther from him with each passing day.

In a mysterious way, he was lured

by the sounds and scents of the forest,

compelling him to plunge into the wild

where it seemed he used to run before,

in a dimly remembered world of shadowed forest,

beneath a wide sky.

Yeah, you know, I figure if we can work

pretty steady for the next three months,

we ought to be able to take about

three or four hundred thousand out of here.

Pretty good take, John.

He sat by the fire a long-furred dog,

but behind him were the generations

of all manner of dogs.

Half-wolves and wild wolves of the pack,

singing the night song of their breed.

The sad song of the woe and pain of his wild fathers.

Their nocturnal call seemed to arouse in him

an awareness that he was a thing of the wild,

come in from the wild,

who had but briefly warmed himself

at mankind's fireside.

And the call that sounded in the forest

compelled him to turn his back

upon the comfort of the campfire.

It was a dog, or something like a dog.

But there was something about the eyes

that Buck had never seen before.

They were slanted and up-tilted.

And Buck knew at once when he saw the eyes

that the creature had never sat beside a fire

or pulled a sled.

Or ever felt the hand of a human being.

Hey, where you been, you big brute?

Hey, let the big one alone. He's got his own ideas.

Let's get back to this millionaire business, huh?

Right.

Buck was haunted by the recollections

of his wild brother

and the mysteries of the wilderness,

where he would wander for days at a time, unaided, alone.

Existing by virtue of his own strength and cunning.

Surviving in a hostile environment

where only the strong survived.