He is soft.

You understand?
We will make as far as the old trapping shack you abandoned two winters ago over on Moose Creek.

It is only eight miles, but it will be a bit of hardening for him.

And, besides...." He was silent for a moment, as if turning a matter over again in his own mind.
"I want to get him away." He turned a searching, quietly analytic gaze upon Thoreau to see whether the Frenchman would understand without further explanation.
The fox breeder picked up the empty gunny sack.
"We will begin to pack the sledge, _mon Pere_.

There must be a good hundred pounds to the dog." As they turned back to the cabin Father Roland cast a look over his shoulder to see whether David was returning.
Three or four hundred yards in the forest David stood in a mute and increasing wonder.