stryke] RUFUS, THE RED KIXG 181 



of desert delirium; and, as if that were not enough, there are 

 records of three hundred and thirty-four men, lost, out of provi- 

 sions, without water, and doomed to the terrible desert death, 

 who were revived with water and food carried to them by Rufus; 

 later they were located by his master and taken to his camp where 

 they were fitted out with the things necessary to proceed on their 

 journey. 



On these expeditions Rufus wore high laced elkskin boots 

 to protect his feet from the blistering sand. Sometimes too he 

 wore "goggles". Strapped across his back were the saddle-bags 

 containing dog biscuit for his own sustenance, a little food for 

 rescue work, two canteens holding about six quarts of water, 

 and, fastened to his breast strap, a small case bearing the mark 

 of the Red Cross. In it were restoratives, a hypodermic needle 

 and other "First Aid" articles. 



I wish that I might picture such a rescue as Mr. Beck recounted. 

 Much of the picture would, I fear, be too horrible. I must leave 

 it to your imagination, which I assure you can serve you but 

 poorly. Picture then man and dog, alone on some barren rocky 

 prominence, looking out over limitless stretches of parched 

 desolate waste. All about them is a deathlike stillness. From 

 out of nowhere there comes a black speck, looming larger and 

 larger against the blazing sky. The speck becomes a bird — large, 

 black and ugly. With a precision bom of purpose it flies to a 

 definite spot on the sun-baked sand, then rises in circles to a 

 tremendous height, and, without warning, swoops down again 

 to earth. More specks appear, turn into birds, and join their 

 comrades. With impatience they await the coming feast. The 

 sight is a familiar one to the silent companions. At a word 

 from the master Rufus is off in the direction of the flock of buz- 

 zards, even as they alight on their prey. The man following, 

 as fast as may be, sees the birds rise, swoop, rise and fly off. 

 The first step in the rescue is accomplished. Perhaps the poor 

 unfortunate may yet be able to avail himself of the aid which 

 the dog brings in in his saddle-bags. If not, then he must wait 

 until the master reaches them. With unseeing eyes, parched and 

 bleeding lips and swollen tongue the man knows nothing until 

 the red sun, slipping down behind the dark buttes, leaves a cool 

 breath in its wake and relief for the three weary ones. Perhaps 

 they were far from their camp when the signs of distress caught 



