Bk III:232-252 Actaeon is killed by the dogs.
First "Black-hair" (Melanchaetes) wounds his back; then "Killer" (Theridamas) and Oresitrophos the "Climber" cling to his shoulder. They had set out late but outflanked the route by a shortcut over the mountains. While they hold their master, the whole pack gathers and they sink their teeth in his body till there is no place left to wound him. He groans and makes a noise, not human, but still not one a deer could make, and fills familiar heights with mournful cries. And on his knees, like a suppliant begging, he turns his wordless head from side to side, as if he were stretching arms out towards them.
Now his friends, unknowingly, urge the ravening crowd of dogs on with their usual cries, looking out for Actaeon, and shouting, in emulation, for absent Actaeon (he turning his head at the sound of his name), complaining he is not there and, through his slowness, is missing the spectacle offered by their prey. He might wish to be absent it's true, but he is here: he might wish to see and not feel the fierce doings of his own hounds. They surround him on every side, sinking their jaws into his flesh, tearing their master to pieces in the deceptive shape of the deer. They say Diana the Quiver-bearer's anger was not appeased, until his life had ended in innumerable wounds.