David put a hand on it.
"I can unleash him," he said.
Before the other could speak, he had walked boldly to the tree.

Baree did not turn his head--did not for an instant take his eye from Thoreau.
There came the click of the snap that fastened the chain around the body of the spruce, and David stood with the loose end of the chain in his hand.
"There!" He laughed a little proudly.
"And I didn't use a club," he added.
Thoreau gasped "_Mon Dieu_!" and sat down on the birch log as though the strength had gone from his legs.
David rattled the chain and then re-fastened it about the spruce.

Baree was still watching Thoreau, who sat staring at him as if the beast had suddenly changed his shape and species.
In David's breast there was the thrill of a new triumph.

He had done it unconsciously, without fear, and without feeling that there had been any great danger.

In those few minutes something of his old self had returned into him; he felt a new excitement pumping the blood through his heart, and he felt the warm glow of it in his body.