At last his nose touched the thick, luscious feast in the basin, and he did not raise his head again until the last drop of it was gone.
The condensed milk was the one biggest factor in the civilizing of Muskwa.
It was the missing link that connected certain things in his lively little mind.

He knew that the same hand that had touched him so gently had also placed this strange and wonderful feast at the foot of his tree, and that same hand had also offered him meat.

He did not eat the meat, but he licked the interior of the basin until it shone like a mirror in the starlight.
In spite of the milk, he was still filled with a desire to escape, though his efforts were not as frantic and unreasoning as they had been.
Experience had taught him that it was futile to jump and tug at the end of his leash, and now he fell to chewing at the rope.

Had he gnawed in one place he would probably have won freedom before morning, but when his jaws became tired he rested, and when he resumed his work it was usually at a fresh place in the rope.

By midnight his gums were sore, and he gave up his exertions entirely.
Humped close to the tree, ready to climb up it at the first sign of danger, the cub waited for morning.