In a swift rush Challoner was upon him and, before Neewa could leave the back of his mother, had smothered him in the folds of the grub sack.
In all his life Challoner had never experienced a livelier five minutes than the five that followed.

Above Neewa's grief and his fear there rose the savage fighting blood of old Soominitik, his father.

He clawed and bit and kicked and snarled.

In those five minutes he was five little devils all rolled into one, and by the time Challoner had the rope fastened about Neewa's neck, and his fat body chucked into the sack, his hands were scratched and lacerated in a score of places.
In the sack Neewa continued to fight until he was exhausted, while Challoner skinned Noozak and cut from her the meat and fats which he wanted.

The beauty of Noozak's pelt brought a glow into his eyes.