Michael's heredity, rigidly selected for ages by man, was chiefly
composed of fierceness and faithfulness. And fierceness and
faithfulness, together, invariably produce pride. And pride cannot exist
without honour, nor can honour without poise.

Michael's crowning achievement, under Daughtry's tutelage, in the first
days in the stateroom, was to learn to count up to five. Many hours of
work were required, however, in spite of his unusual high endowment of
intelligence. For he had to learn, first, the spoken numerals; second,
to see with his eyes and in his brain differentiate between one object,
and all other groups of objects up to and including the group of five;
and, third, in his mind, to relate an object, or any group of objects,
with its numerical name as uttered by Steward.

In the training Dag Daughtry used balls of paper tied about with twine.
He would toss the five balls under the bunk and tell Michael to fetch
three, and neither two, nor four, but three would Michael bring forth and
deliver into his hand. When Daughtry threw three under the bunk and
demanded four, Michael would deliver the three, search about vainly for
the fourth, then dance pleadingly with bobs of tail and half-leaps about
Steward, and finally leap into the bed and secure the fourth from under
the pillow or among the blankets.

It was the same with other known objects. Up to five, whether shoes or
shirts or pillow-slips, Michael would fetch the number requested. And
between the mathematical mind of Michael, who counted to five, and the
mind of the ancient black at Tulagi, who counted sticks of tobacco in
units of five, was a distance shorter than that between Michael and Dag
Daughtry who could do multiplication and long division. In the same
manner, up the same ladder of mathematical ability, a still greater