“Most burros are alike. They hang near camp, as you see mine, hopin’ they can steal a bite of somethin’ if you don’t give it to them. They’ll eat paper, or ‘most anythin’ except greasewood. They love paper off bacon. I had one once that ate my overalls. They never get homesick an’ seem contented in the most desolate places. I had a burro that was happy in Death Valley, which’s the hell hole of this wasteland. Burros are seldom responsive to affection. They’ll stand great abuse. Never expect any thanks. Always patient. They are usually easy to catch. But they must know you. Only way to catch them is to head them off. Then they stop. Young burros are easily broke an’ will follow others. They must be driven. Never knew but one that I could lead. Don’t forget this. They have the most wonderful endurance--never stumble or fall--an’ can exist on practically nothin’. When you turn them loose they’ll nibble around awhile, then stop an’ stand like rocks, never movin’ for hours an’ hours, as if they were wrapped in prehistoric thought. In the mornin’ when you start off on your day’s travel the burros are fresh an’ they drive fine. But in the afternoon, when they get tired, they think of tricks. They’ll lie down--roll over on a pack--knock against a rock or tree. They’ll get together in a bunch to tangle the packs. When a burro intends to lie down he humps his back an’ wriggles his tail. It’s hard to get burros across streams. Scared of water! Strange, isn’t that? I’ve had to carry my burros many a time. But they’ll climb or go down the steepest, roughest mountain trail without fear. They can slide down a steep slope that a man will not stick on. Burros have more patience and good qualities, an’ also cussedness, than any other beasts. They pick out pardners an’ stick together all the time. A big bunch of burros will pair off regardless of sex. Never give each other up! They bray at night--an awful sound till you get used to it. Remember this quick some night when you’re lifted out of a sleep by a terrible unearthly roar.... Well, I guess that’s an introduction to desert burros. It’s all serious fact, Wansfell, as you’ll learn, an’ to your cost, unless you remember.” How singular for Adam to have the closing words of Dismukes reveal the absorbing interest of this simple and practical talk about burros! It amazed Adam to find that he had even been amused, ready to laugh. “I’ll remember,” he asserted, with conviction.