野性的呼喚（中英雙語典藏版）

★★★喚醒勇氣與力量的成長冒險小說★★★
★二十世紀百大小說之一
★世界被讀最多的美國小說
★美國亞馬遜最多讀者推薦

故事開始於人性的貪婪。一隻本被飼養在優渥家庭中的狗「巴克」，被園丁拐賣到寒冷嚴酷的北極荒野當雪橇犬。
在一片冰天雪地裡牠幾經易主，面對過程中的無數次挑戰和生存競爭，牠藉由一點點喚醒心中的野性，每一次都成為了贏家。
最後在愛與真我間的抉擇，命運帶給牠答案，牠終於回到自然，成為北極荒野上的傳說。

《野性的呼喚》是傑克倫敦的巔峰作品，深刻描繪巴克喚回野性、回到自然的經歷與內心變化，被譽為世界動物小說的奠基之作。

本書特色

※以動物為主角的成長冒險小說，帶給讀者不同視野，以故事情節帶領讀者經歷挑戰，激起讀者心中的勇氣與力量。
※附有作者及時代背景介紹，使讀者能更加了解故事背景與作者生平從而進入故事。
※中英雙語典藏版，保留原作的文學韻味，同時以精緻裝幀提升收藏價值。
※原文部分增加英文常見單字／較難單字的單字註釋，提升易讀性及學習效果。

傑克．倫敦 (John Griffith "Jack London" Chaney)
1876年生於舊金山，美國20世紀著名現實主義作家。
他的出生寒微，因為困苦的生活環境他做過各式各樣的工作，報童、碼頭小工、罐頭工廠等，更曾在貧民窟流浪過。
這些經歷都成為他筆下的故事原型，除了描繪真實的底層生活，更有股激勵人們在各種環境用力生存的力道。《野性的呼喚》除了是他的代表作之一，更是他融合淘金經驗後創作出來的作品，後來被選為二十世紀百大英文小說之一，是自然書寫、動物小說中的經典名作。

導讀
作家及歷史背景介紹
第一章 前進蠻荒
第二章 棍棒與利齒法則
第三章 原始獸性的統治慾望
第四章 勝者為王
第五章 挽繩與雪道
第六章 摯愛的人
第七章 回歸本性

CHAPTER1 Into the Primitive
CHAPTER2 The Law of Club and Fang
CHAPTER3 The Dominant Primordial Beast
CHAPTER4 Who Has Won to Mastership
CHAPTER5 The Toil of Trace and Trail
CHAPTER6 For the Love of a Man
CHAPTER7 The Sounding of the Call

巴克並沒有叫喊出聲，也不停下腳步，直接往史匹茲衝了過去。但由於衝勁過猛，肩膀撞在一塊，反而沒有咬到史匹茲的喉嚨。他們交纏在鬆軟的雪地上接連翻滾，史匹茲很快地穩住身子站了起來，彷彿從沒被撞倒過一樣，迅速地咬住了巴克的肩膀又跳開。他後退站穩腳步，牙齒像是捕獸夾的鋸齒一般緊緊鉗住，嘴唇斜斜地往上翻，齜牙咧嘴地怒吼著。
在那一瞬間，巴克突然明白了，他和史匹茲決一死鬥的時機已然來臨。他們彼此兜著圈子，耳朵往後倒貼，互相咆哮著，伺機尋找有利的機會以便出手。眼前這個情景，讓巴克驀地產生一種似曾相識的熟悉感——那片白雪皚皚的樹林、大地與月光，還有令人顫慄的奮戰。一種陰森恐怖的靜穆籠罩著這片雪白與寂靜，空氣中連一絲最微弱的風也沒有，所有的東西彷彿都靜止不動，連樹葉也都寂然，狗群呼出的熱氣清晰可見，裊裊上升，在冰冷的空氣中縈繞不散。這群像狼一般、充滿野性的狗，早已迅速地解決了那隻雪兔；而現在，他們圍成一個圓圈，同樣靜靜地等待著，只有眼中閃爍著熱切的光芒，與緩緩上升的氣息。對巴克而言，這幅彷若遠古時代的景象，一點兒也不陌生，好像習以為常般地，毫無新奇之處。
史匹茲是個經驗豐富的戰士，從史匹茲柏根群島到北極，橫越了加拿大和貝倫斯荒地，無論面對何種敵人，他總是能堅守陣地，更能成功地奪取主導權。他滿腔怒火，但絕對不盲目。當他一心想要撕裂敵人、摧毀他們的時候，也絕不忘記他的敵人同樣地渴望消滅自己。尚未準備好迎接襲擊前，他絕不襲擊敵人；尚未準備好抵禦攻擊前，他絕不莽撞攻擊敵手。
巴克企圖咬住這隻大白狗的脖子，卻都徒勞無功，任憑他的利齒對準的是柔軟的血肉，總是會受到史匹茲尖牙的阻擋。雙方利齒互相撞擊在一起，咬得唇破血流，然而巴克還是無法突破對方的防線。他再度做好準備，將史匹茲包圍進他設下的突擊範圍，一次又一次地想咬住那雪白的喉嚨，那裡是最靠近生命之泉的部位，但每一次都是史匹茲咬中他後又安然退開。接著，巴克假裝要往喉嚨攻去，頭卻突然往後收，改從側邊攻擊，用肩膀撞向史匹茲的肩膀，想要像鐘錘一般將他撞倒。不料，情況卻正好相反，每一次都是史匹茲咬傷巴克的肩膀，再輕巧敏捷地跳開。
史匹茲毫髮未傷，巴克卻渾身是血、氣喘吁吁。這場戰爭漸漸到了攸關性命的時候，外圍狼樣的狗群則靜靜等待其中一方倒下，結束戰事。當巴克上氣不接下氣的時候，史匹茲不斷地猛攻衝撞，使他幾乎站不穩身子。一次，巴克被撞得翻了個觔斗，圍繞成圈的六十隻狗倏地挺直身軀，不過他幾乎在半空中就已經穩住自己，於是那些狗又再度俯低身子繼續等待。
然而，巴克擁有一項天生的卓越資質——想像力。他能憑著本能戰鬥，也可以靠頭腦打仗。他衝上前去，像是在重施故技要撞向肩膀，但在最後那一剎那，卻突然將身子壓得極低，貼著雪地衝了過去，一口咬住了史匹茲的左前腿，一時間傳出骨頭碎裂的喀擦聲，而這隻大白狗就只剩三隻腳來對付敵人了。巴克接下來又試了三次，假裝要撞倒他時又故技重施，將他的右前腿也給咬斷。史匹茲痛苦不堪，處境絕望，拼命掙扎想要爬起站穩。他看到那圈靜靜等待著的狗群，眼神發亮，舌頭伸得長長的，呼出的白色熱氣裊裊上升，漸漸地收攏過來，向他逼近，就像過去他擊敗對手時的景象。只不過，這次他成了那個戰敗者。
史匹茲已經沒有任何希望了。此時的巴克變得冷酷無情，計畫著最後一擊。過去保有的憐憫心，就讓它留在溫暖的南方吧。他感覺到圈子逐漸收攏，左右兩邊都能察覺那些愛斯基摩犬的呼吸。他可以看到史匹茲背後與兩旁的愛斯基摩犬，伏低著身子，眼睛緊緊地盯在史匹茲的身上，一副蓄勢待發的模樣。時間似乎在剎那間停止了，所有的狗彷彿變成了石頭，動也不動，只有史匹茲渾身顫抖、前後搖晃，全身毛髮聳立，發出威脅的怒吼，似乎想要嚇退已經逼近眼前的死亡。這個時候，巴克倏地撲了上去，終於用肩膀撞到了對方的肩膀。然後，在灑滿月光的雪地上，原本黑暗的圓圈收攏成一個黑點，史匹茲自此消失無蹤。巴克站在一旁冷眼旁觀著，這個勝利的戰士，這個擁有原始統治慾望的野獸，完成他的第一次屠殺，嚐到了殺戮與勝利的甜美滋味。

※※※※※※※※

Buck did not cry out. He did not check himself, but drove in upon Spitz, shoulder to shoulder, so hard that he missed the throat. They rolled over and over in the powdery snow. Spitz gained his feet almost as though he had not been overthrown, slashing Buck down the shoulder and leaping clear. Twice his teeth clipped together, like the steel jaws of a trap, as he backed away for better footing, with lean and lifting lips that writhed and snarled.
In a flash Buck knew it. The time had come. It was to the death. As they circled about, snarling, ears laid back, keenly watchful for the advantage, the scene came to Buck with a sense of familiarity. He seemed to remember it all,—the white woods, and earth, and moonlight, and the thrill of battle. Over the whiteness and silence brooded a ghostly calm. There was not the faintest whisper of air—nothing moved, not a leaf quivered, the visible breaths of the dogs rising slowly and lingering in the frosty air. They had made short work of the snowshoe rabbit, these dogs that were ill-tamed wolves; and they were now drawn up in an expectant circle. They, too, were silent, their eyes only gleaming and their breaths drifting slowly upward. To Buck it was nothing new or strange, this scene of old time. It was as though it had always been, the wonted way of things.
Spitz was a practised fighter. From Spitzbergen through the Arctic, and across Canada and the Barrens, he had held his own with all manner of dogs and achieved to mastery over them. Bitter rage was his, but never blind rage. In passion to rend and destroy, he never forgot that his enemy was in like passion to rend and destroy. He never rushed till he was prepared to receive a rush; never attacked till he had first defended that attack.
In vain Buck strove to sink his teeth in the neck of the big white dog. Wherever his fangs struck for the softer flesh, they were countered by the fangs of Spitz. Fang clashed fang, and lips were cut and bleeding, but Buck could not penetrate his enemy’s guard. Then he warmed up and enveloped Spitz in a whirlwind of rushes. Time and time again he tried for the snow-white throat, where life bubbled near to the surface, and each time and every time Spitz slashed him and got away. Then Buck took to rushing, as though for the throat, when, suddenly drawing back his head and curving in from the side, he would drive his shoulder at the shoulder of Spitz, as a ram by which to overthrow him. But instead, Buck’s shoulder was slashed down each time as Spitz leaped lightly away.
Spitz was untouched, while Buck was streaming with blood and panting hard. The fight was growing desperate. And all the while the silent and wolfish circle waited to finish off whichever dog went down. As Buck grew winded, Spitz took to rushing, and he kept him staggering for footing. Once Buck went over, and the whole circle of sixty dogs started up; but he recovered himself, almost in mid air, and the circle sank down again and waited.
But Buck possessed a quality that made for greatness—imagination. He fought by instinct, but he could fight by head as well. He rushed, as though attempting the old shoulder trick, but at the last instant swept low to the snow and in. His teeth closed on Spitz’s left fore leg. There was a crunch of breaking bone, and the white dog faced him on three legs. Thrice he tried to knock him over, then repeated the trick and broke the right fore leg. Despite the pain and helplessness, Spitz struggled madly to keep up. He saw the silent circle, with gleaming eyes, lolling tongues, and silvery breaths drifting upward, closing in upon him as he had seen similar circles close in upon beaten antagonists in the past. Only this time he was the one who was beaten.
There was no hope for him. Buck was inexorable. Mercy was a thing reserved for gentler climes. He manœuvred for the final rush. The circle had tightened till he could feel the breaths of the huskies on his flanks. He could see them, beyond Spitz and to either side, half crouching for the spring, their eyes fixed upon him. A pause seemed to fall. Every animal was motionless as though turned to stone. Only Spitz quivered and bristled as he staggered back and forth, snarling with horrible menace, as though to frighten off impending death. Then Buck sprang in and out; but while he was in, shoulder had at last squarely met shoulder. The dark circle became a dot on the moon-flooded snow as Spitz disappeared from view. Buck stood and looked on, the successful champion, the dominant primordial beast who had made his kill and found it good.