The blood of Soominitik was at last beginning to assert itself, and he no longer sought a place of safety in time of battle--unless the grimness of utter necessity made it unavoidable.

In fact, unlike most bears, he loved a fight.

If there were a stronger term at hand it might be applied to Miki, the true son of Hela.

Youthful as they were, they were already covered with scars that would have made a veteran proud.

Crows and owls, wolf-fang and fisher-claw had all left their marks, and on Miki's side was a bare space eight inches long left as a souvenir by a wolverine.
In Neewa's funny round head there had grown, during the course of events, an ambition to have it out some day with a citizen of his own kind; but the two opportunities that had come his way were spoiled by the fact that the other cubs' mothers were with them.