Something was in the air. All his senses told White Fang that some big change was about to come.
"Listen to that!" said Matt. Through the open door came a low, anxious howl, like a sobbing under the breath.
The truth was that Scott was torn. He was miserable at the idea of leaving White Fang, but he knew a dog like him needed the wide-open spaces of the frozen North. Five or six times he changed his mind. But in the end he decided firmly against taking him. He told himself, "He would hate living in a city, anyway."
Then came the day when White Fang saw his master pack and take two large bags out of the cabin. "Poor fellow," said Scott, gently rubbing White Fang's ears. "I'm leaving, old boy, I've got a new job in California, where you can't follow. Now give me your howls. A goodbye howl!" But White Fang wouldn't howl. He gave his master a sad, searching look and buried his head out of sight, between his master's arm and body.
Matt locked the door. Scott wiped his eyes. "Take good care of him, Matt," he said," Write and let me know how he gets on." "Sure," replied Matt. "But listen to that!" Both men stopped. White Fang was howling inside. His howl burst upwards, dying down into trembling misery. It rose again and again.
Near the ship, Scott said goodbye to Matt and was to have a final handshake with Matt. But Matt's hand dropped. He stared at something behind them. Sitting on the deck and watching sadly was White Fang! "Did you lock the door?" asked Scott. "Sure did." Said Matt. As Scott patted the dog, he noticed blood on his nose and a fresh cut between his eyes. "We forgot the window!" he cried. "He's all cut up. Must have made his way clean through the glass!"
The ship whistled its final. Scott bent down to White Fang, "Howl for me now, you stupid, brave fellow!" White Fang knew he could go with his master now. He howled and smelled his beloved master for all he was worth.
