The team of ten dogs was unhitched, and Buck, with his own harness, was put into the sled. He had caught the contagion of the excitement, and he felt that in some way he must do a great thing for John Thornton. Murmurs of admiration at his splendid appearance went up. He was in perfect condition, without an ounce of superfluous flesh, and the one hundred and fifty pounds that he weighed were so many pounds of grit and virility. His furry coat shone with the sheen of silk.
'As you love me, Buck. As you love me,' Thornton whispered. Buck whined with suppressed eagerness. The crowd was watching curiously. The affair was growing mysterious. It seemed like a conjuration.
'Now, MUSH!' Thornton's command cracked out like a pistol-shot. Buck threw himself forward, tightening the traces with a jarring lunge. His whole body was gathered compactly together in the tremendous effort, the muscles writhing and knotting like live things under the silky fur. The sled lurched ahead in what appeared a rapid succession of jerks... half an inch... an inch... two inches... The jerks perceptibly diminished, as the sled gained momentum, till it was moving steadily along.
A cheer began to grow and grow, which burst into a roar. Hats and mittens were flying in the air. Men were shaking hands and bubbling over in a general incoherent babel. Thornton fell on his knees beside Buck. Head was against head, and he was shaking him back and forth.