He had forgotten the Frenchman's warning.

He was not afraid.
He leaned over and one of his mittened hands touched Baree's neck.

A tremor shot through the dog that was like an electric shock; a snarl gathered in his throat, broke down, and ended in a low whine.

He lay as if dead under the weight of David's hand.

Not until David had ceased talking to him, and had disappeared once more in the direction of the cabin, did Baree begin devouring the frozen whitefish.
Father Roland meditated in some perplexity when it came to the final question of Baree.
"We can't put him in with the team," he protested.