It had blood in its veins, like man, that a thrust of a knife could make redly gush forth and denude it to death.

Like the race of man it loved its kind, and birthed and breast-nourished its young.

And passed.

Ay, it passed; for many a dog, as well as a human, had he, Bashti, devoured in his hey- dey of appetite and youth, when he knew only motion and strength, and fed motion and strength out of the calabashes of feasting.
But from woe Jerry went on into anger.

He stalked stiff-legged, with a snarl writhen on his lips, and with recurrent waves of hair-bristling along his back and up his shoulders and neck.