Father Roland slipped the little plush box into his pocket as he and David went out to join Thoreau.

They left the cabin together, Marie lifting her eyes from her work in a furtive glance to see if the stranger was wearing her cap.
A wild outcry from the dogs greeted the three men as they appeared outside the door, and for the first time David saw with his eyes what he had only heard last night.

Among the balsams and spruce close to the cabin there were fully a score of the wildest and most savage-looking dogs he had ever beheld.

As he stood for a moment, gazing about him, three things impressed themselves upon him in a flash: it was a glorious day, it was so cold that he felt a curious sting in the air, and not one of those long-haired, white-fanged beasts straining at their leashes possessed a kennel, or even a brush shelter.

It was this last fact that struck him most forcefully.