Three porcupines had dragged themselves into the edge of the water, and lay there like balls, their quills alert and quivering.

A fisher-cat was snarling at the lynx.
And the lynx, with ears laid back, watched Kazan and Gray Wolf as they began the invasion of the sand-bar.
Faithful Gray Wolf was full of fight, and she sprang shoulder to shoulder with Kazan, her fangs bared.

With an angry snap, Kazan drove her back, and she stood quivering and whining while he advanced.
Light-footed, his pointed ears forward, no menace or threat in his attitude, he advanced.

It was the deadly advance of the husky trained in battle, skilled in the art of killing.

A man from civilization would have said that the dog was approaching the lynx with friendly intentions.