She had seen many dogs, and she had heard their howl, and she knew that always they traveled with man.
She gave a deep, chesty sniff, and close after that sniff a WHOOF that startled the cubs like the lashing end of a whip.

They rolled to her, and with two cuffs of the mother's huge paws they were headed in the right direction, and all three crashed off into darkness.
In spite of his swelling heart Peter let out a little yip.

It was a great satisfaction, just at a moment when his nerves were getting unsteady, to discover that a monster like this one in the moonlight was anxious to run away from him.

And Peter went on, a bit of pride and jauntiness in his step, his bony tail a little higher.
A mile farther on, in another yellow pool of the moon, lay the partly devoured carcass of a fawn.

A wolf had killed it, and had fed, and now two giant owls were rending and tearing in the flesh and bowels of what the wolf had left.