On the breeze there was borne to him the sound of voices--many voices.

He closed the book with a bang.

His small body became tense; his eyes glittered.

He scented prey.

He wrapped the book in its oilcloth, laid it upon the buggy seat, and taking Irontail by the bridle, started in the direction of the voices.
Half a mile down the road he came upon a scene of merriment.