He tried to tear himself free with his forepaws, but Papayuchisew--slow to reason but of firm conviction--hung to Baree's ear like grim fate.
At this critical point, when the understanding of defeat was forming itself swiftly in Baree's mind, chance saved him.

His fangs closed on one of the owlet's tender feet.

Papayuchisew gave a sudden squeak.

The ear was free at last--and with a snarl of triumph Baree gave a vicious tug at Papayuchisew's leg.
In the excitement of battle he had not heard the rushing tumult of the creek close under them, and over the edge of a rock Papayuchisew and he went together, the chill water of the rain-swollen stream muffling a final snarl and a final hiss of the two little fighters..