The Ranger set his wits to work once more. He had heard of people actually lighting a fire under the stubborn animals, but though the flame singed their fur, they were more afraid of the bridge.
At last, in disgust, he simply took the young burro on his back by getting under him and drawing his fore legs over his shoulders, and carried him across.
Fuzzy, watching, enjoyed it hugely.
CHAPTER XIX
THE PINTO PONY
FUZZY-WUZZ, like all bears, old or young, was fond of trout, and these autumn days it was his great delight to fish the creek.
Earlier in the year the stream had been so high that he could not have done this, but now it came no more than neck high along the banks, as he stood with barbed paw outspread, ready to spear the first fingerling that came along.
He was there fishing the day that Bucky, the young burro, got his first swimming lesson. Where the bridge crossed the creek it was deeper. It was where the children came to swim. This time Bucky protested as he had before when they came to the bridge. Then he got the surprise of his life. The Ranger simply picked the little gray beast up in his arms and flung him overboard into the pool.
You never in all your life saw such a surprised animal as young Bucky. But did he drown? Not a bit of it. Every animal—except the human—can swim if it has to, and Bucky simply struck out for shore with all fours.
Always thereafter he crossed the bridge willingly enough.