It was Muskwa's first fire.

Also he saw his first horses, terrific looking monsters even larger than Thor.
A third man--Metoosin, the Indian--came out to meet the hunters, and into this creature's hands Muskwa found himself transferred.

He was laid on his side with the glare of the fire in his eyes, and while one of his captors held him by both ears, and so tightly that it hurt, another fastened a hobble-strap around his neck for a collar.

A heavy halter rope was then tied to the ring on this strap, and the end of the rope was fastened to a tree.
During these operations Muskwa snarled and snapped as much as he could.

In another half-minute he was free of the shirts, and as he staggered on four wobbly legs, from which all power of flight had temporarily gone, he bared his tiny fangs and snarled as fiercely as he could.
To his further amazement this had no effect upon his strange company at all, except that the three of them--even the Indian--opened their mouths and joined in that loud and incomprehensible din, to which one of them had given voice when he sank his teeth into his captor's leg on the mountainside.