" He lifted his marine glasses to his eyes and stared a moment.

"And a white man's dog at that!" Jerry beat the water with his paws and moved steadily along, straining his eyes at the growing yacht until suddenly warned by a sensing of immediate danger.

The taboo smote him.

This that moved toward him was the log awash that was not a log but a live thing of peril.

Part of it he saw above the surface moving sluggishly, and ere that projecting part sank, he had an awareness that somehow it was different from a log awash.
Next, something brushed past him, and he encountered it with a snarl and a splashing of his forepaws.