CHAPTER XVII
BUCKY, THE BURRO
FUZZY-WUZZ had learned to ride a burro away back there when the Ranger had rescued him from drowning.
He had traveled on top of the pack as the Ranger went his rounds. After awhile he learned to leap to the little donkey’s back whenever he wanted to ride. The burro never minded.
She was mighty useful to the Ranger, was the donkey, for she could carry a pack over the narrowest mountain trail. No matter how rocky and dangerous it was, she never missed her footing. (A horse sometimes slipped and fell over the canyon wall.) She also possessed the ability to go without water when it was necessary. Her compact little hoofs were just built for rocky trails, and her ancestors had lived in Egypt andthe dry mountainous regions of Mexico, where a good drink every night after the day’s work is over, often has to suffice. That makes a burro especially useful during the long California dry season.
Then, too, a pack burro can live, and fatten on the dry grass and leaves she can find for herself during the months when no rain falls. That is more than a horse can do. The Ranger kept a couple of saddle horses, which he had to treat with especial care, but for the long trips into the back country, or down to the settlement and back for supplies, he relied on his burros.
Jack and Bucky, as he called them, had even carried the furniture of the cabin twenty miles on their backs. And so obedient were they that one day, when the Ranger wanted to send supplies home but could not leave the settlement himself for several days yet, he simply gave the shaggy little animals a slap and pointed their noses along the home trail, and they went back all alone.
But they had one fault. They were as stubborn as could be. If they made uptheir minds to stop, no amount of urging, nor beating, even, could make them change their minds. If the Ranger accidentally put too heavy a pack on their backs, or one that didn’t fit comfortably, they would simply lie down, or else leap into the air with bowed backs and buck it off.
Now that spring a baby burro had been born in the corral. Young Bucky, they called the gray rascal. Such a cunning baby as he was, too, with his long, waggling ears, and almost hairless tail with just a tassel on the end of it.
At first he was so shy that every time Fuzzy-Wuzz came near, he would run for all he was worth. But gradually he got used to the fat brown cub.
The pack burros were gone on a trip to the settlement when it occurred to Fuzzy-Wuzz that he would like to take a little ride around the corral. Seeing no one but young Bucky, he leapt to his back.
The next thing Fuzzy knew, he was sailing into the air.
The next thing Fuzzy knew, he was sailing into the air.
The next thing Fuzzy knew, he was sailing into the air, for Bucky, objecting to such a passenger, had simply given one big jump that sent the little bear flying off overhis head. Nor did he stop at that. Coming with all four of his neat hoofs together, his back bowed, he leapt again and again, shaking his head angrily and grunting with the effort he had made.
After that, if Fuzzy came too near, he simply struck out at him with his hind feet, and it was only luck on Fuzzy’s part that he did not get a good kick.