There was a snap, as the thong about his neck gave way.
In half a dozen bounds Kazan made the tent and rushed under the flap.
With a snarl he was at McCready's throat.

The first snap of his powerful jaws was death, but he did not know that.

He knew only that his mistress was there, and that he was fighting for her.

There came one choking gasping cry that ended with a terrible sob; it was McCready.

The man sank from his knees upon his back, and Kazan thrust his fangs deeper into his enemy's throat; he felt the warm blood.
The dog's mistress was calling to him now.