Call of the Wild, Jack London

Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not
alone for himself, but for every tide-water dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair,
5 from Puget Sound to San Diego. Because men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a
yellow metal, and because steamship and transportation companies were booming the find,
thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted dogs, and the dogs
they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by which to toil, and furry coats to
protect them from the frost.
10
Buck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley. Judge Miller’s place, it was
called. It stood back from the road, half hidden among the trees, through which glimpses
could be caught of the wide cool veranda that ran around its four sides. The house was
approached by gravelled driveways which wound about through wide-spreading lawns and
15 under the interlacing boughs of tall poplars. At the rear things were on even a more
spacious scale than at the front. There were great stables, where a dozen grooms and boys
held forth, rows of vine-clad servants’ cottages, an endless and orderly array of outhouses,
long grape arbors, green pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then there was the
pumping plant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where Judge Miller’s boys took
20 their morning plunge and kept cool in the hot afternoon.

And over this great demesne Buck ruled. Here he was born, and here he had lived the four
years of his life. It was true, there were other dogs. There could not but be other dogs on so
vast a place, but they did not count. They came and went, resided in the populous kennels,
25 or lived obscurely in the recesses of the house after the fashion of Toots, the Japanese pug,
or Ysabel, the Mexican hairless—strange creatures that rarely put nose out of doors or set
foot to ground. On the other hand, there were the fox terriers, a score of them at least, who
yelped fearful promises at Toots and Ysabel looking out of the windows at them and
protected by a legion of housemaids armed with brooms and mops.
30
But Buck was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The whole realm was his. He plunged into
the swimming tank or went hunting with the Judge’s sons; he escorted Mollie and Alice, the
Judge’s daughters, on long twilight or early morning rambles; on wintry nights he lay at the
Judge’s feet before the roaring library fire; he carried the Judge’s grandsons on his back, or
35 rolled them in the grass, and guarded their footsteps through wild adventures down to the
fountain in the stable yard, and even beyond, where the paddocks were, and the berry
patches. Among the terriers he stalked imperiously, and Toots and Ysabel he utterly ignored,
for he was king,—king over all creeping, crawling, flying things of Judge Miller’s place,
humans included.
40
His father, Elmo, a huge St. Bernard, had been the Judge’s inseparable companion, and Buck
bid fair to follow in the way of his father. He was not so large,—he weighed only one
hundred and forty pounds,—for his mother, Shep, had been a Scotch shepherd dog.
Nevertheless, one hundred and forty pounds, to which was added the dignity that comes of
45 good living and universal respect, enabled him to carry himself in right royal fashion. During
the four years since his puppyhood he had lived the life of a sated aristocrat; he had a fine
pride in himself, was even a trifle egotistical, as country gentlemen sometimes become
 because of their insular situation. But he had saved himself by not becoming a mere
pampered house-dog. Hunting and kindred outdoor delights had kept down the fat and
50 hardened his muscles; and to him, as to the cold-tubbing races, the love of water had been a
tonic and a health preserver.

And this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, when the Klondike strike
dragged men from all the world into the frozen North. But Buck did not read the
55 newspapers, and he did not know that Manuel, one of the gardener’s helpers, was an
undesirable acquaintance. Manuel had one besetting sin. He loved to play Chinese lottery.
Also, in his gambling, he had one besetting weakness—faith in a system; and this made his
damnation certain. For to play a system requires money, while the wages of a gardener’s
helper do not lap over the needs of a wife and numerous progeny.
60
The Judge was at a meeting of the Raisin Growers’ Association, and the boys were busy
organizing an athletic club, on the memorable night of Manuel’s treachery. No one saw him
and Buck go off through the orchard on what Buck imagined was merely a stroll. And with
the exception of a solitary man, no one saw them arrive at the little flag station known as
65 College Park. This man talked with Manuel, and money chinked between them.

70
Call of the Wild, Jack London: Questions
1) Re-read lines 4-10. List four features of the kind of dog the men were looking for? [4
marks]
75
2) Look in detail at the extract lines 31-39. How does the writer use language to describe
Buck’s life [8 marks]

3) You now need to think about the whole of the source. How has the writer structured the
80 text to help bring it to life for the reader? [8 marks]

4) One student wrote of this book, "The best thing about Call of the Wild is the way that
London writes about the dogs as though they were humans. They’ve got real
personalities." Based on what you’ve read, to what extent do you agree? [20 marks]
 Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins

Caesar Flickerman, the man who has hosted the interviews for more than forty
5 years, bounces onto the stage. It’s a little scary because his appearance has been
virtually unchanged during all that time. Same face under a coating of pure white
makeup. Same hairstyle that he dyes a different color for each Hunger Games. Same
ceremonial suit, midnight blue dotted with a thousand tiny electric bulbs that twinkle
like stars. They do surgery in the Capitol, to make people appear younger and thinner. In
10 District 12, getting old is something of an achievement, here it’s a crime.
He tells a few jokes to warm up the audience but then gets down to business.
The girl tribute from District 1, looking provocative in an opaque gold gown, steps up the
center of the stage to join Caesar for her interview. Her mentor didn’t have any trouble
coming up with an angle for her: flowing blonde hair, emerald green eyes, a body that’s
15 tall and lush… she’s sexy all the way. But I won’t forget that she’s trained to kill.
Each interview only lasts three minutes. Then a buzzer goes off and the next
tribute is up. I sit like a lady, the way Effie showed me, as the districts slip by. Two, three,
four… Everyone seems to be playing up some angle. The monstrous boy from District 2 is
a ruthless killing machine. The fox-faced girl from District 5 is sly and elusive. Eight, nine,
20 ten… The crippled boy from 10 is very quiet.
My palms are sweating like crazy, but the jeweled dress isn’t absorbent and
they skid right off if I try to dry them.
Suddenly they’re calling Katniss Everdeen, and I feel myself, as if in a dream,
standing and making my way center stage. I shake Caesar’s outstretched hand, and he
25 has the good grace not to immediately wipe his off on his suit.
“So, Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What’s
impressed you most since you arrived here?” asks Caesar.
What? What did he say? It’s as if the words make no sense. My mouth has gone
as dry as sawdust. I desperately find Cinna, my stylist, in the crowd and lock eyes with
30 him. I imagine the words coming from his lips. I rack my brain for something that made
me happy here. Be honest, I think. Be honest.
“The lamb stew,” I get out.
Caesar laughs, and vaguely I realise some of the audience has joined in.
“The one with the dried plums?” asks Caesar. I nod. “Oh, I eat it by the
35 bucketful.” He turns sideways to the audience in horror, hand on his stomach. “It doesn’t
show, does it?” They shout reassurances to him and applaud. I smile, Caesar really tries
to help you out.
“So, how about that training score. E-le-ven. Give us a hint what happened in
there.”
40 I glance at the Gamemakers on the balcony and bite my lip.
“Um... all I can say, is I think it was a first.”
The cameras are right on the Gamemakers, who are chuckling and nodding.
“You’re killing us,” says Caesar as if in actual pain. “Details. Details.”
I address the balcony. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, right?”
45 The Gamemaker who fell in the punch bowl shouts out: “She’s not!”
“Thank you,” I say. “Sorry. My lips are sealed.”
“Let’s go back then, to the moment they called your sister’s name at the
reaping,” says Caesar. His mood is quieter now.
“And you volunteered. Can you tell us about her?”
50 No. No, not all of you. But maybe Cinna. I look to him again as I speak, and then
close my eyes before opening my mouth. It’s the only way I can be honest. “Her name’s
Prim. She’s twelve. I love her more than anything.”
You could hear a pin drop in the City Circle now.
“What did she say to you? After the reaping?” Caesar asks. Be honest. Be
55 honest. I swallow hard. “She asked me to try really hard to win.” The audience is frozen,
hanging on my every word.
“And what did you say?” prompts Caesar gently.
Instead of warmth, I feel an icy rigidity take over my body. My muscles tense as
they do before a kill. When I speak, my voice seems to have dropped an octave. “I swore
60 I would.”
“I bet you did,” says Caesar, giving me a squeeze. The buzzer goes off. “Sorry,
we’re out of time. Best of luck, Katniss, tribute from District Twelve.”

65

The Hunger Games: Questions

70 1) Re-read the opening paragraph and list four things we learn about Caesar
Flickerman. [4 marks]

2) Look in detail at the extract lines 13-24. How does the writer use
language to describe the other Hunger Games contestants? [8 marks]
75
3) You now need to think about the whole of the source. How has the writer
structured the text to help us experience the event? [8 marks]

4) One reviewer wrote of this book: “Suzanne Collins’ writing helps us live
80 each moment inside the head of its fascinating main character. We think,
breathe and react as though we are Katniss Everdeen.” Based on what
you’ve read, to what extent do you agree? [20 marks]
85 ‘The Lovely Bones’
by Alice Sebold, published 2002
The extract below is the opening of a novel. The narrator is a teenage girl who has been
murdered.

My name was Salmon, like the fish; first name, Susie. I was fourteen when I was
murdered on December 6, 1973. In newspaper photos of missing girls from the seventies,
most looked like me: white girls with mousy brown hair. This was before kids of all races and
genders started appearing on milk cartons or in the daily mail. It was still back when people
believed things like that didn’t happen. 5
In my junior high yearbook was a quote from a Spanish poet my sister had turned me
on to, Juan Ramon Jimenez. It went like this: "If they give you ruled paper, write the other
way." I chose it both because it expressed my contempt for my structured surroundings a la
the classroom and because, not being some dopey quote from a rock group, I thought it
marked me as literary. I was a member of the Chess Club and Chem Club and burned
everything I tried to make in Mrs. Delminico’s home economics class. My favorite teacher 10
was Mr. Botte, who taught biology and liked to animate the frogs and crawfish we had to
dissect by making them dance in their waxed pans.
I wasn’t killed by Mr. Botte, by the way. Don’t think every person you’re going to meet
in here is suspect. That’s the problem. You never know. Mr. Botte came to my memorial (as,
may I add, did almost the entire junior high school — I was never so popular) and cried quite
a bit. He had a sick kid. We all knew this, so when he laughed at his own jokes, which were 15
rusty way before I had him, we laughed too, forcing it sometimes just to make him happy.
His daughter died a year and a half after I did. She had leukemia, but I never saw her in my
heaven.
The murderer was a man from our neighborhood. My mother liked his border flowers,
and my father talked to him once about fertilizer. My murderer believed in old-fashioned 20
things like eggshell and coffee grounds, which he said his own mother had used. My father
came home smiling, making jokes about how the man’s garden might be beautiful but it
would stink to high heaven once a heat wave hit.
But on December 6, 1973, it was snowing, and I took a shortcut through the cornfield
back from junior high. It was dark out because the days were shorter in winter, and I
remember how the broken cornstalks made my walk more difficult. The snow was falling 25
lightly, like a flurry of small hands, and I was breathing through my nose until it was running
so much that I had to open my mouth. Six feet from where Mr. Harvey stood, I stuck my
tongue out to taste a snowflake. "Don't let me startle you," Mr. Harvey said.
Of course, in a cornfield, in the dark, I was startled. After I was dead I thought about
how there had been the light scent of cologne in the air but that I had not been paying
attention, or thought it was coming from one of the houses up ahead. 30
"Mr. Harvey," I said.
"You're the older Salmon girl, right?"
"Yes."
"How are your folks?"
Although the eldest in my family and good at acing a science quiz, I had never felt
comfortable with adults. "Fine," I said. I was cold, but the natural authority of his age, and
the added fact that he was a neighbour and had talked to my father about fertilizer, rooted 35
me to the spot.
"I've built something back here," he said. "Would you like to see?"
"I'm sort of cold, Mr. Harvey," I said, "and my mom likes me home before dark."
"It's after dark, Susie," he said.
I wish now that I had known this was weird. I had never told him my name.

90
Q1: Read lines 1 to 5. List four details from this part of the text we learn about the narrator.

1. ___________________________________________________________________

2.
95 ___________________________________________________________________

3. ___________________________________________________________________

4. ___________________________________________________________________
100

Q2: Read again lines 13 to 23. How does the writer use language here to describe Mr. Botte?
105 You should comment on:
 interesting words and phrases
 language features and techniques
 sentence forms

110

Q3: Now refer to the whole of the source.

How has the writer structured the text to interest you as a reader?

115 You should comment on:

 what the writing focuses our attention on at the beginning of the extract
 how and why this changes as the extract develops
 any other structural features that interest you

120
Q4: Focus this part of your answer from line 21 to the end of the extract.
A student, having read this extract, said: “I like the way the writer creates suspense.”

To what extent do you agree?

125
In your answer, you should:
 Write about your own impressions of Mr. Harvey, the murderer
 Evaluate how the writer develops these impressions of him
 Support your opinions with quotations from the text
130
 Life of Pi
Inside the ship, there were noises. Deep structural groans. I stumbled and fell.
No harm done. I got up. With the help of the handrails I went down the
stairwell four steps at a time. I had gone down just one level when I saw water.
5 Lots of water. It was blocking my way. It was surging from below like a riotous
crowd, raging, frothing and boiling. Stairs vanished into watery darkness. I
couldn't believe my eyes. What was this water doing here? Where had it come
from? I stood nailed to the spot, frightened and incredulous and ignorant of
what I should do next. Down there was where my family was.

10 I ran up the stairs. I got to the main deck. The weather wasn't entertaining any
more. I was very afraid. Now it was plain and obvious: the ship was listing
badly. And it wasn't level the other way either. There was a noticeable incline
going from bow to stern. I looked overboard. The water didn't look to be eighty
feet away. The ship was sinking. My mind could hardly conceive it. It was as
15 unbelievable as the moon catching fire.

Where were the officers and the crew? What were they doing? Towards the
bow I saw some men running in the gloom. I thought I saw some animals too,
but I dismissed the sight as illusion crafted by rain and shadow. We had the
hatch covers over their bay pulled open when the weather was good, but at all
20 times the animals were kept confined to their cages. These were dangerous
wild animals we were transporting, not farm livestock. Above me, on the
bridge, I thought I heard some men shouting.

The ship shook and there was that sound, the monstrous metallic burp. What
was it? Was it the collective scream of humans and animals protesting their
25 oncoming death? Was it the ship itself giving up the ghost? I fell over. I got to
my feet. I looked overboard again. The sea was rising. The waves were getting
closer. We were sinking fast.

I clearly heard monkeys shrieking. Something was shaking the deck, a gaur -
an Indian wild ox -exploded out of the rain and thundered by me, terrified, out
30 of control, berserk. I looked at it, dumbstruck and amazed. Who in God's name
had let it out?

I ran for the stairs to the bridge. Up there was where the officers were, the only
people on the ship who spoke English, the masters of our destiny here, the
ones who would right this wrong. They would explain everything. They would
35 take care of my family and me. I climbed to the middle bridge. There was no
one on the starboard side. I ran to the port side. I saw three men, crew
members. I fell. I got up. They were looking overboard. I shouted. They turned.
They looked at me and at each other. They spoke a few words. They came
towards me quickly. I felt gratitude and relief welling up in me. I said, "Thank
40 God I've found you. What is happening? I am very scared. There is water at the
bottom of the ship. I am worried about my family. I can't get to the level where
our cabins are. Is this normal? Do you think-"

One of the men interrupted me by thrusting a life jacket into my arms and
shouting something in Chinese. I noticed an orange whistle dangling from the
45 life jacket. The men were nodding vigorously at me. When they took hold of
me and lifted me in their strong arms, I thought nothing of it. I thought they
were helping me. I was so full of trust in them that I felt grateful as they
carried me in the air. Only when they threw me overboard did I begin to have
doubts.

50
 Section A: Reading
Answer all questions in this section.
You are advised to spend about 45 minutes on this section.

Q1. Read again the first part of the Source from lines 1 to 12. List
four things from this part of the text about the ship.
[4 marks]

Q2. Look in detail at this extract from lines 13 to 25 of the Source:

How does the writer use language here to describe the narrator’s
fright and confusion?

You could include the writer’s choice of:

 words and phrases
 language features and techniques
 sentence forms
[8 marks]

Q3. You now need to think about the whole of the Source. This
extract comes at the end of a chapter. How has the writer
structured the text to interest you as a reader?

You could write about:

 what the writer focuses your attention on at the beginning
 how and why the writer changes this focus as the Source
develops
 any other structural features that interest you
[8 marks]

Q4. Focus this part of your answer on the second part of the Source
from line 19 to the end. A student, having read this section of the
text, said: ‘The writer makes the reader feel sympathetic for the
narrator.’

To what extent do you agree?

In your response, you could:

 write about your own impressions of the narrator
 evaluate how the writer has created these impressions
 support your opinions with references to the text
[20 marks]