Before he had recovered from the shock of Curly's death, he received another shock. Francois fastened an arrangement of straps and buckles on his back. It was a harness, such as he had seen the grooms put on the horses at home. And as he had seen horses work, so he was set to work, hauling Francois on a sled to the forest that circled the valley, and returning with a load of firewood. Though his dignity was hurt by thus being made a work animal, he was too wise to rebel. He buckled down with a will and did his best, even though it was all new and strange. Francois was the stem of the group, demanding instant obedience. And with the crack of his whip, he received that obedience. @Dave, on the other hand, was an experienced wheeler, and he nipped Buck's hind quarters whenever he did something wrong. Spitz was the leader, also experienced, and while he could not always get at Buck, he growled sharply now and then, or cunningly threw his weight in the traces to jerk Buck into the way he should go. Buck learned easily, and under the combined efforts of his two mates and Francois, he made remarkable progress. By the time they returned to camp, he knew enough to stop at "ho," to go ahead at "mush," to swing wide on the bends, and to keep clear of the wheeler when the loaded sled shot downhill at their heels.

"They're good dogs," Francois told @Perrault. "That Buck, he pulls like hell. I teach him quick as anything."

By afternoon, Perrault, who was in a hurry to be on the trail, returned with two more dogs. @Billee and @Joe, he called them, two brothers and true huskies both. But even though they were sons of the one mother, they were as different as day and night. Billee's one fault was his excessive good nature, while Joe was the very opposite, sour and introspective, with a perpetual snarl. Buck received them in a friendly fashion, Dave ignored them, and Spitz proceeded to thrash first one and then the other. Billee wagged his tail submissively, turned to run when he saw that it wouldn't work, and cried (still submissively) when Spitz's sharp teeth scored his flank. But no matter how Spitz circled, Joe whirled around on his heels to face him, mane bristling, ears laid back, lips writhing and snarling, jaws clipping together as fast as he could snap, and eyes diabolically gleaming -- the incarnation of aggressive fear. So terrible was Joe's appearance that Spitz was forced to give up trying to discipline him. But to cover his own embarrassment, he turned upon the inoffensive and wailing Billee and drove him to the confines of the camp.