A bone to the dog is not charity. Charity is the bone shared with the dog, when you are just as hungry as the dog. - Jack London

He had killed man, the noblest game of all, and he had killed in the face of the law of club and fang.

Buck found it to be cheaper to mend his ways than to retaliate.

Sometimes he pursued the call into the forest, looking for it as though it were a tangible thing, barking softly or defiantly... Irresistible impulses seized him. he would be lying in camp, dozing lazily in the heat of the day, when suddenly his head would lift and his ears cock up, intent and listening, and he would spring on his feet and dash away, and on and on, for hours, though the forest aisles.