It arose in the air strong-flighted as a bird.

And as if at a signal, all the multitude of cockroaches took wings of flight and filled the room with their flutterings and circlings.
He attacked the winged host, leaping into the air, snapping at the flying vermin, trying to knock them down with his paws.

Occasionally he succeeded and destroyed one; nor did the combat cease until all the cockroaches, as if at another signal, disappeared into the many cracks, leaving the room to him.
Quickly, his next thought was: Where is Skipper?
He knew he was not in the room, though he stood up on his hind-legs and investigated the low bunk, his keen little nose quivering delightedly while he made little sniffs of delight as he smelled the recent presence of Skipper.

And what made his nose quiver and sniff, likewise made his stump of a tail bob back and forth.
_But_ _where_ _was_ _Skipper_?
It was a thought in his brain that was as sharp and definite as a similar thought would be in a human brain.

And it similarly preceded action.