This blackness did not frighten him, for he had yet to learn the meaning of light.

Day, and not night, was to fill him with his first great terror.

So quite fearlessly, with a yelp for his mother to wait for him, he began to follow.

If Gray Wolf heard him, she paid no attention to his call, and the sound of the scraping of her claws on the dead timber died swiftly away.
This time Baree did not stop at the eight-inch log which had always shut in his world in that particular direction.

He clambered to the top of it and rolled over on the other side.