The Arizona Desert 



with energy and power. He made shore almost 

 even with me, and wagged his tail. Not to be out 

 done, Jude, Tige and Don followed suit, and first 

 one and then another was swept off his feet and 

 carried downstream. They landed below me. This 

 left Ranger, the pup, alone on the other shore. Of 

 all the pitiful yelps ever uttered by a frightened and 

 lonely puppy, his were the most forlorn I had ever 

 heard. Time after time he plunged in, and with 

 many bitter howls of distress, went back. I kept 

 calling, and at last, hoping to make him come by a 

 show of indifference, I started away. This broke 

 his heart. Putting up his head, he let out a long, 

 melancholy wail, which for aught I knew might have 

 been a prayer, and then consigned himself to the 

 yellow current. Ranger swam like a boy learning. 

 He seemed to be afraid to get wet. His forefeet 

 were continually pawing the air in front of his nose. 

 When he struck the swift place, he went downstream 

 like a flash, but still kept swimming valiantly. I 

 tried to follow along the sand-bar, but found it 

 impossible. I encouraged him by yelling. He 

 drifted far below, stranded on an island, crossed it, 

 and plunged in again, to make shore almost out of 

 my sight. And when at last I got to dry sand, there 

 was Ranger, wet and disheveled, but consciously 

 proud and happy. 



17 



