He would cringe down near David's feet, lying there motionless, oblivious of the other dogs and showing no inclination to disturb them.

He was there on the tenth night, looking steadily at David with his two bloodshot eyes, wondering what it was that his master held in his hands.

From the lips and eyes of the Girl, trembling and aglow in the firelight, David looked at Baree.

In the bloodshot eyes he saw the immeasurable faith of an adoring slave.

He knew that Baree would never leave him.