He had left Peter to fill his place, to guard and watch and keep alive the memory of the man who was gone.

For him there had been something of consolation in this giving up of his comradeship to Nada.

And Peter had turned traitor.
Even Peter seemed to sense the argument and condemnation that was passing behind McKay's unsmiling eyes.

He did not move, but lay squatted on his belly, with his nose straight out on the ground between his forepaws.

It was his attitude of self-immolation.