But that was nothing to Jinks now.  He scented danger, and the treacherous meanness of his nature came suddenly to the fore.  He forgot the care and kindness of his master; forgot everything but the fact that those eyes were still looking at him, and that they made him feel restless, irritable and wild.  He had had this wild feeling for some time now, but he had been keeping it in restraint, fearing that dog-whip and dreading the anger of his master; but now, for some reason or other, he did not care what his master thought of him, and, as he snapped fiercely at his master’s hand, he growled and snarled as savagely as any wild jackal.

Without a moment’s hesitation, his master, with his free hand, caught Jinks by the throat and called for help.  Luckily, two servants were close by, and came immediately, and Jinks’ master gave orders to fetch a gun and shoot him at once.

But Jinks was not born to be shot in that manner.  As he felt that grip on his throat, he suddenly realized his strength, and with one great wrench he tore himself free, snapping and snarling in true savage fashion, and showing his fang-like teeth in an appalling manner.  He would have sprung straight at the throat of his master, but that at that moment there was a flash of fire, a terrific bang, and Jinks, scared out of his wits, fled, howling in the most miserable way.

This was the last Jinks saw of his master, or his master saw of him, for some time, for after that he returned no more to the home which had sheltered him so long, but roamed the country at will, and made night hideous by his screams and howls.  He wandered about for some time, seeking for a companion of some sort, but the only animals at all like himself were one or two domestic dogs which lived in the neighborhood, and of these, for some reason or other Jinks was afraid, and so kept at a safe distance.

Now, in his old life, Jinks had always slept at night and moved about in the daytime, but now he got into the habit of hiding himself by day in woody jungles and such places, and at night going out and wandering about in search of food.  He wondered once or twice what had made him feel so differently.  He did not know that it was partly due to the fact that he had tasted fresh blood.  True, it was only chicken’s blood, but it was blood all the same, and it had awakened the latent thirst for it in him, and this, combined with the fact that he had just reached the age of an adult jackal, accounted for his suddenly getting so wild and savage.

All this, however, Jinks could not understand.  He only knew that he felt lonely and miserable, and that his restlessness would not let him keep still more than a few minutes at a time.  At last he began to get very hungry, for he was not accustomed to getting his own food, and did not know the way in which to set about it.  He began to wish he could find another chicken, and his mouth watered at the very thought.