(Many two-footed animals with bigger brains than Miki's had made similar mistakes.) For Oochak, attending always to his own business, was, for his size and weight, the greatest little fighter in North America.
Just what happened in the one minute that followed his assault Miki would never be able quite to understand.

It was not in reality a fight; it was a one-sided immolation, a massacre.

His first impression was that he had tackled a dozen Oochaks instead of one.

Beyond that first impression his mind did not work, nor did his eyes visualize.

He was whipped as he would never be whipped again in his life.