Also, it gave him a delightful consciousness of his own mastery, for the wild-dog always fled from him.

At least so far as dogs were concerned, Jerry was cock of the deck of the _Arangi_.

It did not enter his head to query how his conduct affected the wild-dog, though, in truth, he led that individual a wretched existence.

Never, except when Jerry was below, did the wild one dare venture more than several feet from his retreat, and he went about in fear and trembling of the fat roly-poly puppy who was unafraid of his snarl.
In the late afternoon, Jerry trotted aft, after having administered another lesson to the wild-dog, and found Skipper seated on the deck, back against the low rail, knees drawn up, and gazing absently off to leeward.

Jerry sniffed his bare calf--not that he needed to identify it, but just because he liked to, and in a sort of friendly greeting.