He did not know that the water had flung him out on the wrong side of the stream, and that to reach the windfall he would have to cross it again.

He whined, but that was as loud as his voice rose.

Gray Wolf could have heard his barking, for the windfall was not more than two hundred and fifty yards up the stream.

But the wolf in Baree held him silent, except for his low whining.
Striking the main shore, Baree began going downstream.

This was away from the windfall, and each step that he took carried him farther and farther from home.