They maddened him--for a time, and Le Beau's ugly soul was filled with joy as Miki launched himself again and again at the sapling bars, tearing at them with his teeth and frothing blood like a wolf gone mad.

For twenty years Le Beau had trained fighting dogs, and this was his way.

So he had done with Netah until The Killer was mastered, and at his call crept to him on his belly.
Three times, from a window in the cabin, Nanette looked forth on these horrible struggles between the man and the dog, and the third time she buried her face in her arms and sobbed; and when Le Beau came in and found her crying he dragged her to the window and made her look out again at Miki, who lay bleeding and half dead in the cage.

It was a morning on which he started the round of his traps, and he was always gone until late the following day.

And never was he more than well out of sight than Nanette would run out and go to the cage.
It was then that Miki forgot The Brute.