In truth, so great had been his passion to capture some of these rare and inaccessible mammals, that he considered the day's world the fulfillment of his life's purpose.

He was happy.
Never had he been so delighted as when, the very evening of their captivity, the musk-oxen, evincing no particular fear of him, began to dig with sharp hoofs into the snow for moss.

And they found moss, and ate it, which solved Jones's greatest problem.

He had hardly dared to think how to feed them, and here they were picking sustenance out of the frozen snow.
"Rea, will you look at that! Rea, will you look at that!" he kept repeating.

"See, they're hunting, feed." And the giant, with his rare smile, watched him play with the calves.
They were about two and a half feet high, and resembled long-haired sheep.