One's hard luck and misfortune form the measuring stick for future good luck and fortune.

So it was with Baree.
Forty-eight hours ago a full stomach would not have made him a tenth part as happy as he was now.

Then his greatest longing was for his mother.

Since then a still greater yearning had come into his life--for food.

In a way it was fortunate for him that he had almost died of exhaustion and starvation, for his experience had helped to make a man of him--or a wolf dog, just as you are of a mind to put it.