The expression on this occasion was misunderstood, however; and as about two dozen additional yelping dogs had joined the ranks of the enemy, they advanced in close order to the attack.
Crusoe still sat quiet, and kept his head high; but he _looked_ at them again, and exhibited four fangs for their inspection.

Among the pack there was one Indian dog of large size--almost as large as Crusoe himself--which kept well in the rear, and apparently urged the lesser dogs on.

The little dogs didn't object, for little dogs are generally the most pugnacious.

At this big dog Crusoe directed a pointed glance, but said nothing.

Meanwhile a particularly small and vicious cur, with a mere rag of a tail, crept round by the back of the tent, and coming upon Crusoe in rear, snapped at his tail sharply, and then fled shrieking with terror and surprise, no doubt, at its own temerity.
Crusoe did not bark; he seldom barked; he usually either said nothing, or gave utterance to a prolonged roar of indignation of the most terrible character, with barks, as it were, mingled through it.