He did not speak to him again.

His eyes were on the dog.

Slowly he raised his rifle; David heard the click of the hammer--and Baree heard it.

There was something in the sharp, metallic thrill of it that stirred his brute instinct.

His lips fell over his fangs, he whined, and then, on his belly, he dragged himself slowly toward David! It was a miracle that Thoreau the Frenchman looked upon then.