Probably he had gone to the wolves.

So--was it not possible that this youngster she and her father had pursued was of the flesh and blood of her mother's pet?
It was more than possible.

The white star on his breast, the white-tipped ear--the fact that he had not bitten her when he might easily have buried his fangs in the soft flesh of her arms! She was convinced.

While Pierrot skinned the bear, she began hunting for Baree.
Baree had not moved an inch from under his rock.

He lay like a thing stunned, his eyes fixed steadily on the scene of the tragedy out in the meadow.