He was thinking of Nanette, the woman.

Why had she run away with that terrible cry when he killed the man-beast?
Was it not the man-beast who had struck her down, and whose hands were at her white throat when he sprang the length of his chain and tore out his jugular?
Then why was it that she ran away, and did not come back?
He whimpered softly.
The afternoon was almost gone, and the early gloom of mid-winter night in the Northland was settling thickly over the forests.

In that gloom the dark face of Durant appeared at the bars of Miki's prison.
Instinctively Miki had hated this foxhunter from the edge of the Barrens, just as he had hated Le Beau, for in their brutish faces as well as in their hearts they were like brothers.

Yet he did not growl at Durant as he peered through.

He did not even move.
"UGH! LE DIABLE!" shuddered Durant.
Then he laughed.