Down below there was one chance in a thousand for life.

There might be a ledge or a projecting spur to catch him.
And Thor! Suddenly--unexpectedly--he had come upon man! This was the creature that had hunted him, this was the creature that had hurt him--and it was so near that he could reach out with his paw and crush it! And how weak, and white, and shrinking it looked now! Where was its strange thunder?
Where was its burning lightning?
Why did it make no sound?
Even a dog would have done more than this creature, for the dog would have shown its fangs; it would have snarled, it would have fought.

But this thing that was man did nothing.

And a great, slow doubt swept through Thor's massive head.

Was it really this shrinking, harmless, terrified thing that had hurt him?
He smelled the man-smell.