BASHO AND THE LAST ROUNDUP SAMPLE

REPERCUSSIONS & RETREAT

(Formation 1 — The Kaibab)

The well-planned engagement had been effective and exacting in the toll the army of people had on the besieged burros. These cowboys and the league of other humanitarians, as volunteers for the campaign, had devised a plan to rescue the last of the Grand Canyon burros within the jurisdiction of Grand Canyon National Park. The cowboys moved in on the herd at sunrise and the volunteers who worked for Cleveland Amory’s group, the International Fund for Animal Welfare (IFAW) were hopeful this part of the roundup would be successful. Otherwise, those burros that managed to escape the dragnet would pay a grave price for eluding the cowboys, namely, their lives. The National Park Service had granted permission for the burro roundup but was also adamant in enforcing the policy of eradicating every burro from its domain one way or the other. 

The operation was opportune in that it had to take place within a certain span of time. If that window of opportunity was lost, the entire concerted effort would fail. Because it was the early spring of 1980, it was also hoped the annual delivery of the newborn burros would not take place until the burros were rounded up and sent on their way. In known places where the burros favored delivering their young, volunteers were sent in on foot to make sure no burros were left behind, especially the newborns. All in all, it was the best and the most humane policy the NPS came up, thanks, chiefly, to the charismatic, and, at times, the incensed diplomacy of Mr. Amory, who simply would not take no for in answer in what he proposed to the Department of the Interior. They finally listened to reason, and from one burro’s viewpoint, at least, the decision showed the true potential of humanity. His name was Spiritus, and he was instrumental in helping out in the cause even though all, but two of the burros were rounded up and sent out of the canyon, bawling.

Basho and Bright Angel were the fortunate burros who managed to evade capture. Their accomplishment was abetted by two ravens, Kiva and Kachina, along with a cunning and old-timer cougar named Pumster. The three had been enlisted into the cause by Spiritus, who, as a transcendental influence could not do anything to help the hapless burros because he had left the temporal plane a long time ago. Nevertheless, his influence was still powerful, and he was instrumental in effecting Basho’s and Bright Angel’s rescue, even though he left it up to the two ravens and the cougar to come up with their plans, which they surely did. Of course, the two cowboys who followed Basho and Bright Angel did their part, although each in their own way. But that is to get too far ahead of the story at this point.

The fact was had Slim and Quirt dogged the two escapees throughout much of the day while all of the rest of the burros did exactly what the cowboys thought they would: the bunched together, they ran together, and were it not for their long, floppy ears, they acted like cattle and went peacefully to the preplanned rendezvous site, just above the fissure known as Lonetree Canyon. Led by Arizona’s most famous cowboy, Mike Landis, these men and woman on horseback were especially kind and thoughtful when it came to their quarry. These hapless burros were always high strung when it came to being around too many humans at the same time. This group of humans who descended upon them may have worn the proverbial white hat, but they still represented a threat to the burros. Consequently, the cowboys gave the burros their space but kept pushing them to the rendezvous site. The park officials watched through binoculars from the rim, or what the burros knew as the long glass. Without the IFAW’s knowledge, however, there was a backup plan the NPS would muster into action in case any of the burros got away. It was a desperate plan, but as one park official paraphrased from a famous book she read, “Sometimes desperate measures call for desperate plans.” Of course, from her perspective, the interior of the canyon had suffered long enough at the hooves of the burros the NPS desperately wanted to remove once and for all. So, it could be said if the burros were in the right place at the wrong time, then the IFAW was there to defend and save them from all-out genocide.

Meanwhile, Basho and Bright Angel were thought to have slipped away from that awful business that took place east of Lonetree Canyon. For a while it even seemed they were home free, that is, once they reached the confluence where the Colorado and the Little Colorado Rivers come together. This marks the ending of Marble Canyon, which is now a part of the Grand Canyon National Park boundary. That direction was to the east, and it was where the two burros were headed. First, they made their route along the big water, which humans called the Colorado River, but later had to change course due to running into another unforeseen group who pursued them. Even Spiritus had not known of these humans who called themselves, “The Rough Riders,” presumably after some famous Hollywood director named, Sam Peckinpah. It was at this time when Basho heard Spiritus in his mind, who told him of another route, a more dangerous route, he and Bright Angel would have to attempt. It was much higher than the main or secondary trails and would be difficult to get up that high and find a safe alternative passage that would eventually lead the two burros to the place they needed to go. Spiritus had used this route a long time ago when he was a nomad and roamed as a Third Upper Order Truth novitiate. He told Basho if he and Bright Angel reached this crude trail of sorts, then the mounted riders, who were on horses, were sure not to follow, simply because horses were not as sure footed as burros or mules.

Basho knew the consequences would be deadly, for Spiritus also told him these so-called rough riders were mercenaries and would be paid for every burro shot on sight. This was the NPS’s plan B for desperate times and desperate measures as a backup plan.

Even before Basho and Bright Angel reached the Tapeats layer, which was the tenth major formation below the rim, he had heard the infamous whizzing sounds. These were the deadly bullets fired from the long guns the rough riders were licensed to carry for the operation. One of those sounds had already made the ricochet noise and flying debris when it struck a rock face just over Basho’s ears. Instinctively, he ducked and jumped sideways at the same time and narrowly escaped death. Bright Angel heard it, too, and, at this point, the last measure of her courage and energy drained in a hurry. From there on she was almost enfeebled and only moved and followed Basho because he pleaded with her and convinced her they were close. Of course, he knew the alternative route they had to go would take them out of their way, and, of course, it was much higher than Bright Angel had ever gone before. Nevertheless, it was the only way to get around the masked riders who intended to kill them and, therefore, the two remaining burros had no other choice, except to climb higher and hope to find the crude route that Spiritus told them was essentially their only chance for survival.

When the bright light had moved the equivalent of three burro lengths, as degrees, which in human terms was equivalent to one hour, Basho and Bright Angel reached the top of the Supai formation. They had already covered the Bright Angel, Muav, Temple Butte, and the Redwall, which respectively represented the ninth through the sixth major layers. Only the Hermit, Coconino, and the Toroweap layers remained below the Kaibab formation that capped both rims. Bright Angel had never before been so high, and only once before did Basho make it to just below the Kaibab, but had turned back when he heard loud noises that scared him. These were the motorized sounds of human vehicles, like cars and buses, that Spiritus later told him were part of the human’s world. Bit the young burro was too frightened to go any farther on that outing and decided to turn back. Now here he was once again close to these upper formations. Something told him he could take on any of these contraptions if he had to, for the danger that he and Bright Angel needed to skirt was far worse in his bewildered eyes.

Ω Ω Ω

He stood below the crest of a high talus slope and waited. Everything he had predicted had come true. So far, everything Spiritus told him to do had also come true. But the two merging sides of such premonition were incongruous. Most assuredly, Basho was grateful for what Spiritus had told him to do. Still, he was saddened by what had happened to all the others. Only one other burro from the herd and her clan that had adopted Basho had listened. Just two burros from some five hundred others. He sent Bright Angel ahead where she waited for him at the top while he waited and acted as a lookout. Of course, Basho had much to be thankful for in having her with him. But he also had much to worry about because she relied on him and less on her instincts. He couldn’t blame her for this, however. She had not led near the life of adventure he had but lived her entire four years with the clan, as a joiner. Basho was a nomad who joined her clan, yet he was what could essentially be called a joiner, simply because Basho was still a maverick in more ways than one.

As it turned out because she decided to venture with him to the east Bright Angel needed to be protected. She was not a handicap in any sense, however. Nevertheless, Basho was deeply concerned for her safety. There was also the internal conflict of emotions that he felt because of what happened to all of the others that he could not convince they were hoofing in harm’s way. In fact, none of the Upper Order Truths he had learned in his six years of hoofing above the hard surface (ground) and below the realm of HAW! had prepared him for any of what beset his mind today. Even the wise counsel Spiritus told him about matters that pertained to the (ahem!) burrsonal essence of a burro’s nature didn’t seem to help untangle the many burrs Basho thought were inside his thinker (mind). Not even burrolore and burrosophy helped make sense of the conflict of feelings Basho felt as the day’s light turned dimmer, as though to match the way he felt. The only thing that did make sense, however, was for them to get as much distance as possible from the group of humans who were somewhere behind him. Even Spiritus didn’t count on this part of the plan the NPS had kept secret from the IFAW. 

Careful not to start a landslide with his hooves, Basho stood on top of the sharp-edged debris and surveyed the view below. He had good reason to be circumspect, for he expected to see his pursuers appear at any instant, at least, those who came on foot. Weary from the long day’s events that put him and Bright Angel just ahead of the danger, Basho could not shake the disturbing thoughts and images from his busy head. He had compassion for what had happened to the clan and all the other clans that made up the last of the Grand Canyon herd. But would they heed his warnings over the past few cycles (days) when the bright light came and went about the danger they were in? They did not. For this, alone, Basho sensed a feeling he had never experienced in his life — disbelief. Spiritus had already told him the story of how the first burros were introduced here and how the herd had grown and shrunk in size over the years, all at the hands of the overseers (the NPS) who resorted to such stringent methods to cull the burro ranks, regardless how cruel those campaigns were. This latest campaign did not unleash the rain of whizzing noises as before, where the bodies of the burros were penetrated, and their essence seeped from their wounds like smoke rising from a fire and then their spirits were gone. Yet, this group that pursued their quarry well beyond the place the burros knew as “One Jack — Four Jennies,” or Red Canyon as the humans called it. They came out of nowhere and they did resort to the old tactics the NPS had used to cull the ranks of the burros since the 1930s.

Naturally, Basho, like any other burro, did not measure such a great span of time as humans did. He only heard such designations from Spiritus who said the reference provided what humans called a timeline. Still, such a designation involved both human and burro history and often there was a contrast in the values that each put on their kind for their purposes. To the burros, it was simply a matter of live and let live while for the NPS it was a matter of removing foreign (introduced) creatures from the park’s interior, as though to pull an unwanted weed from one’s garden.

For most of his young life, Basho, like any other sensible burro, knew the most important thing about their essence was what happened in the moment, namely, the things that mattered. Namely, the practical things, like eating, drinking, sleeping, and so on, even glowing, were essential. The rest was merely circumstance and weighed in importance according to what use, if any, the burro found in whatever attracted his or her attention. At this point and place, however, Basho would rather be anywhere else but here, for the moment had turned strangely intense like never before. The suspense was also unnerving, even for a burro who had accomplished so much learning and experienced so much training since he took the path of the Upper Order Truths. Nothing, he thought to himself, could have prepared him for what took place since the bright light appeared. And the suspense and tension continued to undermine the confidence and cunning Basho knew he had to cling to see another bright another move through another complete cycle. If for no other reason other than for his survival, then he had to act responsibly for Bright Angel’s sake. 

As Spiritus had said, Basho’s and Bright Angel’s pursuers still nowhere to be seen in the rugged country and primitive route the two burros took to reach this place. Basho looked down at his hooves and saw how worn they were from the hard travel he and Bright Angel were forced to endure to get away from that very determined group of humans who fired their noise makers, and as the humans say, did not ask any questions. Basho figured they still had an edge and that maybe those humans would turn back and give up the chase and, therefore, give up the bounty on his and Bright Angel’s head.

Basho looked around and saw a slice of the big water off in the distance. He had once made it to the point where the two waters merged, there at the confluence. He had traveled that way close to the big water, which followed a route that humans called the Beamer Trail, which connected to the Salt Trail. The latter was sacred to the Hopi Indians who came to the canyon for ceremonial salt and other rituals. But they did not live inside the canyon where they claimed their ancestor emerged from a hole in the Earth these people called the sipapu. Basho had seen both the salt mines and this sacred place to these people. To the west, and far beyond where he had ever roamed, although Basho’s father did travel that way, was another group of humans who did live inside the Grand Canyon. These were the so-called People of the Blue-Green Water, the Havasupai Indians, where a creek the color of turquoise ran through the deeply grooved narrow canyon, and where many waterfalls were found, two of which were long veils of thundering water that Basho could only imagine, but had never seen before. In that western part of the canyon, and well beyond those peaceful people who lived there, some burros had managed to roam and found refuge in a neighboring Indian Reservation owned by the People of the Tall Pines, the Hualapai. No burro knew exactly just how many nomads made it that far but it was. However, it was rumored a new, but a much smaller herd had begun. Except for an occasional execution of a burro that was expressly used for jerky, which the burros did not need to know this part of the story, the burros of the Indian lands, as they were called, were pretty much left alone.

In the east, however, even Spiritus thought no burros lived in that extensive part of the cavernous setting that was more or less adjacent to where the burros had roamed ever since they got here. Basho had once set out on a pilgrimage to go there, just to see what was over the line of canyon formations he could not see until he got to such a point. But he had turned back and decided he would spend more time with Bright Angel and her clan and make the journey some other cycle. Hopefully, he would entice Bright Angel to accompany him. She had done so, all right, except this kind of adventure and hard hoofing Basho had not counted on as being part of the experience.

For over a hundred years all the burros who ever came to lived here knew the risks and were able to survive against all odds. The original burros used a more colorful human expression to name the place, which they called, the Glory Hole. They didn’t know what this expression was, however, the prospectors seemed to be fond of saying this phrase. Well, at first they did. Thus, “the Glory Hole” was the preferred appellation the burros used in the formal sense. Otherwise, they called this range beneath HAW! by a less formal name, “Bounty.” It was a name that came from burrolore, a human word, and the burros came to associate the Glory Hole as a place that provided them with everything they needed. Well, almost everything. What they didn’t know was the periodic sanitizing, as the NPS dubbed it, that made many burros wet their viewers (eyes) when the surviving burros gathered to see who among them had taken had exchanged their form (body) for formlessness, which is what happens when the spirit leaves the body in the final exhalation of the burro’s hot breath. From that point, no burro knows what becomes of the spirit, for it is not polite to speak of the dead in such a way. Instead, the burro that goes away becomes a part of the whole, just as all other burros must eventually do in completing their hoofing beneath the realm of HAW! This revelation is found in the Third Upper Order Truth.

Where Basho stood his watch his ebony coat and circle of white around his muzzle and just above his hooves stood out against the marooned-stained rocks of the Supai formation. All of the ten major formations the humans classified as geologic depositions were easily discernible to the burros eyes. They could tell the difference in these banded formations that had different colors, shapes, even the kind of rock material in each layer; that is some were hard rocks, like limestone, and some were soft, like mudstone. Of course, this feature is what makes the Grand Canyon’s profile into a series of cliffs, ledges, and slopes, or what the geologists call, “differential erosion” with respect to the changing formations and types of materials found in them. Basho knew his cover (coat or hide) made his visible with the backdrop. But he also had a plan of action working in his mind. If the humans used the long glass and watched him from below, then they might assume he was the only burro who got away and was, therefore, headed for the top. But when that hunt and destroy party such that it was intended for in the first place, went to look for him up there, he and Bright Angel would continue their escape below.

As for Bright Angel’s coat, she was white and gray and certainly had a better chance if she could get to the third layer, the Coconino sandstone, whose off-white color could easily camouflage her from prying eyes. Basho would have to take his chances, however. Then again, he was also more adept at concealing himself at the right time and the right places. Besides his essence (the self), Basho realized she was all that he needed to try and protect, especially in the sense of Bright Angel’s concealing her form and cover from view. The only question in Basho’s mind was whether or not she could do it. The last time he looked deep into her viewers he saw the fear and the exhaustion she could not conceal from him. Basho understood. He felt that way, too, except not to the degree either state might collapse and, therefore, ruin his resolve to get both of them to the only place he and Spiritus thought they would be safe — to the east part of Bounty.

How much distance they still had to roam, he didn’t know. Burros measure distances regarding how long a jack measures from muzzle to swisher. The average length is around seven feet in human terms and ten jacks in a row would, which equals seventy feet. This measurement was good for gauging small distances, of course, like how far a burro had to go to reach an edible (food) source or water or to jump from one place to another if need be. For greater land measurement, however, they judged from point to point, such as how far one prominent feature is to the next. Where he and Basho had to go was unknown territory, even where they presently were. He, therefore, could not even estimate how long it would take to get to where they had to but figured it might take three cycles of the bright light, if not more, to get on the other side of the colored water that marked the confluence. Like Havasu Canyon where the Indian village was located, the Little Colorado River was also a turquoise color, at least, it was in this part of the Little Colorado River gorge.

There was much on Basho’s mind that late afternoon where he stood his watch and waited to see if their ruse had worked. Somehow he and Bright Angel had worked their way up a winding, tight passageway of broken rocks through the Redwall formation. It was a small fault line that penetrated this massive and largest of all the Grand Canyon’s formations. The only way up or down this sixth major formation below the top was if there was a fault line that cut through these cliff-forming limestone rocks. Otherwise, there was no way to get through this barrier unless nature produced such a swath that would offset one wall from the other, where one side was higher or lower from the other. Naturally, the prospectors could see from a great distance where the fault lines cut through. So could the burros, except they weren’t looking for treasure or “booty” as the humans sometimes call the precious metals they sought. Spiritus knew this narrow fissure that sliced through the part of the canyon where he told Basho to go would not be suitable for any horse, and most humans would refrain from using it. Once Basho and Bright Angel got to the top, then the series of ledges that made up the four distinct formations of the Supai Group would be easier. But only if the burros had energy. They were running low before they got to the top of the Redwall. Bright Angel was, to use the human expression, already running on empty and Basho feared for her essence, for her footing was tentative at best.

He looked above his head and knew she was up there and hopefully took advantage of the rested until he joined her. From what Spiritus had already told him, Basho knew the trail that connected at the top was primitive. It was an old game trail used by bighorn sheep, mostly, also some deer, and later in time used by some of the Indians who came into the canyon to hunt. Spiritus had found it by accident, he said, which was long ago before he gave up his final breath. But if Basho could find the route, then it was the only way for them to get to that part of the canyon where the sinuous route would eventually take them to the confluence, where they could cross the water and get to the other side. The advantages far outweighed the disadvantages, in that the Rough Riders could not find Basho’s and Bright Angel’s tracks, or if they did, then Spiritus was confident they could not possibly follow the route. This, of course, was the disadvantage he mentioned, as well as a few other points that Basho decided to keep secret until it was time to inform Bright Angel what she had to do. Thus far, she did exactly as he said and he was surprised she could even do what he did. But if Spiritus was half right about the difficulty of the route just above the Supai formation, then Basho knew he had his work cut out for him in convincing Bright Angel she really could do it.

There was one incentive, however, that Basho might have to rely on. If it turned out that the route was too difficult for Bright Angel to attempt, then they would have to go higher, and possibly leave the canyon and take their chances up there. Spiritus told him the humans were not as dangerous as many of the burros in the tribe thought. He said it was more than likely a humor would find them and do what was called “an adoption.” Then he and Bright Angel would have to take their chances and live with humans the same way the other burros were forced to do.

What Spiritus didn’t tell Basho was what Basho already sensed. Namely, their pursuers might try and continue along the trail that paralleled the big water and waited for them somewhere close to the east haven where he and Bright Angel had to go. If they were that desperate, then the primitive and sketchy and dangerous route he and Bright Angel had to take to get there would eventually meet up with this bunch. Spiritus even said there was a place that he gauged to be what humans called a quarter mile of their being visible and with no way to conceal their forms from any human that might have laid in ambush. Spiritus knew of no other way to avoid this danger. He didn’t know if Basho could even find a way to the rim if it came to that plan of escape. The Coconino sandstone was arguably rough to get through, but its shattered pieces in places did not require a fault line to break up the formation. Nevertheless, footing in such places always was a risk, especially since any bone in the burro’s leg that was fractured or broken would sooner or later be the cause of its final breath.

However, the Hermit shale formation above the Supai was a slope and could easily be gotten through. The same could be said for the Toroweap and the Kaibab formations that were above the Coconino. Basho lifted his head backward and studied a potential route of escape in case Bright Angel couldn’t go too much farther beyond where Spiritus said there was a shelter they could hold up for a while, even for the night if they had to. 

Basho was tired from the exhaustion his body and mind caused him. There was simply too much for him to think, wonder and worry about. Had he traveled alone, then he knew he could find a way out of the danger, except there were of them to worry about. Consequently, Basho had to do the thinking for both of them. Likewise, he had to be strong and brave enough for both of them. If they were to be the start of a new herd of burros that would one day continue the burro lineage in a different part of the Glory Hole, then everything depended on what he did or didn’t do. Bright Angel would, therefore, be a vital part of such a plan to repopulate the burro species because there were no other burros that had ever made it that far. At least none that any burro knew about, including Spiritus.

The sun had long ago moved beyond the walls of the upper formations and slipped below the false horizon created by those cliffs, slopes, and ledges. In had turned late in the day and the evening would soon be upon them. Assured that no humans would appear below the lookout where he stood and waited for so long, Basho turned and faced the top of the slope. He was a little past the midway point. Deftly, he picked his way across the sharp-edged debris. It was necessary to go back and forth across the slope and his pace was slow as it was deliberate. He did not want to take the chance of letting even one rock fall down the steep apron of loose rocks for fear its sound would alert the humans.

When he reached the top, Basho stopped, angled his head, then looked back on the perilous way they came. Even he could hardly discern the perilous route they had followed. It was better suited to the bighorn sheep or deer, just as Spiritus had said. Basho doubted even a human could do it. He almost whinnied, as a mock gesture of laughter, as he imagined a horse with a rider foolish enough to attempt to follow.

He tested the air for any unusual scent but could detect nothing out of the ordinary. Then his ears stiffened and moved forward. Basho kept them in this position for a while and probed the silence. As he panned the scenery, his tail flicked back and forth like a loose whip. One ear pivoted off to the side, and he tested from that direction. When he brought it forward again, he did the same with the other ear. The crisis he faced made him extra cautious in what his senses sampled and told his busy brain might be out there. But none of Basho’s senses could detect anything out of the ordinary. If it were not for the tenseness of the situation, it would be a typical outing he and Bright Angel were on, where the serenity and silence were the personification of ambiance for all creatures who took notice of such things.

Off in the distance, he caught a glimpse of the new sanctuary he and Bright Angel hoped to find before too long. But first, they needed to get as much distance as they could from those humans who ambushed them near the big water. Basho was almost certain that desperate group Spiritus called the Rough Riders would try to head them off. He didn’t know where they might plan their next ambush, but it would take place before he and Bright Angel could reach the boundary where the crossing had to be made. Bounty was no longer safe for any burro, and that other place was where they needed to be. He was sure of it. Otherwise, to climb to the high rim would be exhaustive and pose more danger to them, simply because that was the world of humans up there while down here in HAW’s realm there was still plenty of room for all creatures. At least, there used to be plenty of room until the humans came and forced all the burros out of their adopted homeland.

Whatever name he and Bright Angel would end up calling their new home, from where he stood its profile off in the distance seemed so close and yet so far away. Time was of the essence, only it was the other kind of essence that burros never worry about. But Basho was worried about time. At least, in view of what he had to do to get his essence and Bright Angel’s to safety.

Ω Ω Ω

He heard in his mind something Spiritus taught him a long time ago: “Your focus determines your reality.” Basho moved toward Bright Angel who stood and quivered next to a slope of broken shale and mudstone where the Hermit formation began. One look at her and Basho could see she was still gripped with fear and concern. They needed to get away from this place and the sooner they were off this precarious mantle and overlook the better their chances were for total concealment. At least for a while. The question was just how long could they manage to elude their captors who could easily box them in from all directions? This turf was more suited for the bighorn sheep and the deer and other creatures, like the fox and the ringtail cats. Burros, however, could mosey up and down some of the formations where breaks in the rocks allowed them safe passage. However, they preferred to live farther below these upper formations, which they called, “the place of many hideouts.” This was the Tonto Plateau and the designation referred to the numerous side canyons and drainages that sliced through its rolling topography. Basho stood close beside Bright Angel and looked deep into her dark eyes that reflected the soft light of the fading afternoon. He didn’t say anything to her but reached over her neck and gently nibbled on her mane. It was a sign of affection and to let her know she would be all right. They both would. But first they had to get off this small platform between the two formations and there was one more difficult part of this route they had to navigate.

Basho stepped back and positioned his body to face Bright Angel. They were nose-to-nose, and they both shared the ritual of the breaths. Next to the mounting ritual, this was the most intimate thing two burros could do. They simply stood and breathed and shared the same breath that came out of two different bodies. There was nothing to say or think about when this ritual took place. The only important thing was to stand in silence and breathe. It was similar to a deep breathing and meditation exercise similar to what humans do, and the goal was for the burro to calm its mind and essence.

When a few moments had passed, Basho stepped back, and it was time to lead Bright Angel around the narrow ledge that went around the face of a protruding wall of soft rock. Spiritus had cautioned Basho that it would require adept footing to clear the ledge, such that it was. There was also a rather precipitous drop that meant certain death if one or both of them toppled from the protruding lip that marked the route. Fortunately, the ledge was hard rock and now the soft rock that abutted up against it.

He had already told Bright Angel something about this particular part of the route and she understood. He led her to where the ledge began, and his focus was solely on every step he took. He hoped Bright Angel would be just as focused and risked communicating with her when he said, “Be careful Brightee 2! This is the place where we must plant our cloppers (hooves) one at a time. Let your thinker (mind) be empty and your cloppers sure and steady. Just do as I do and stay close to my swisher (tail).” Then, Basho stepped onto the ledge and crept along it curvature. It was a distance of, at least, seven jacks (about fifty feet) lined in a row. Bright Angel was right behind him with her muzzle practically on Basho’s rump. Burros were adept walkers and could handle most terrain the deer could, but this place was something the desert bighorn sheep were more used to. For a burro to be attempting such a passage, it would have to be a desperate move for the burro because there was no other way to go. And there really wasn’t in this case.

Around the face of the rock they crept one step at a time. It seemed to take forever to get to the other side, but when Basho placed his two front legs onto a more generous slab of rock, its foundation might as well have been as large as the place of many hideouts. He leaped forward and got out of Bright Angel’s way, who then followed. Turning to face her, Basho was proud of both of their accomplishments and told her so. “Brightee 2, I knew you could do this. You are the most brave jenny I have ever known. You may even be more brave than any jack.”

Bright Angel looked at Basho and seemed to be glowing and proud at the same time. She still had fear and concern in her eyes, but Basho could see there was a noticeable difference in Bright Angel now that they had crossed the perilous place. It was as bad as Spiritus had said but now they would be safe for the time being. Not too far ahead Basho saw the overhang that Spiritus said would protect them. He also said there were edibles (food), which were some small green plants that grew near the wall and thrived on a seep of water that would nourish the thirsty burros. The bonus was how the overhang was tucked into a deep crevice of a rock formation that would prevent the humans from seeing them at this vantage. Basho turned his head and saw the shelter and with more confidence in a voice he said, “Over there, Brightee 2. We will stay there for part of a cycle (time) until you are rested and able to hoof to where we need to go. But we are close, and we have also come so far. Did I tell you that it makes my thumper (heart) good to have you here with me?”

Bright Angel just looked at Basho and said everything she needed to say with her large, deep-set eyes. He understood and led her to the shelter.

Ω Ω Ω

Basho had favored calling Bright Angel, Brightee 2, which came to him by way of a story Spiritus once told him. He told Basho there another burro that was made popular by human account and his name was Brighty. His story was depicted in a book called, “Brighty of the Grand Canyon,” and authored by Marguerite Henry. Brighty was shaggy-coated young burro-jack, gray in color, except for traces of white here and there. He had befriended an old prospector, one Hezekiah Appleyard, who worked his claims on the other side of the river. Basho had never been to that side of the big water, and he didn’t understand at that time a literary figure from one who was made of hide and bones, but Basho liked the burro, Brighty, immensely, and the human who was his friend.

Later, when Basho met another burro who had a similar name, he remembered the story of Brighty and thought it would be okay to honor this celebrated burro of literature and fame by a real burro, named Bright Angel, whose nickname, for Basho, at least, would be close to the other famous name.

It seemed such a long time ago when he met the jenny who was two years younger than Basho. The difference in Brighty and Brightee 2, however, might as well have been the difference between the bright light and the pale light (moon) that sometimes came during the period when the bright light finished its cycle. Brighty apparently was only afraid of one thing, mountain lions, but not humans. Bright Angel was afraid of both. She had never seen a mountain lion down where she stayed but had heard the burrolore that told her such stalking creatures could not be trusted. Basho thought so, too, except today he found out differently. He also knew the mountain lion, Pumster, that Spiritus enlisted to help them escape the two cowboys played an important role in their rescue. Spiritus told him as much, although he didn’t say what the mountain lion’s role was, or what he did to distract the two uprights who chased after them.

Basho had only ever met one human that he more or less trusted. Otherwise, he, like Bright Angel, always kept his distance when humans were around. But Spiritus also mentioned a human phrase, “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” which Basho did not discern the meaning of what Spiritus tried to impart. Then Spiritus told his eager, young understudy, “When you meet a burro, you judge him by his cover (coat); when you leave, you judge him by his thumper (heart).” It was a proverb from burrolore that Spiritus said must always be considered before passing judgement on any burro, or for that matter, on any creature beneath HAW!’s realm. Basho often shared some of Spiritus’s wisdom with Bright Angel. And up until today, Basho thought his counsel about such things would make Bright Angel more receptive to humans, at least, to the point she thought they were all out to harm her. He had already learned this lesson when he met the human in the small water (creek) near “One Jack — Four Jennies.” But after today Basho wasn’t sure if Bright Angel would ever have such trust for a human. He wasn’t sure he could, either. Nevertheless, Spiritus told him what was more important to do was to get through the peril they were in, and the rest would settle itself when their essences felt more secure.

With Bright Angel — his beloved Brightee 2 — close behind him, they walked toward the protective shelter that was deep enough for, at least, five or six burros if need be. It would provide adequate shelter and keep them out of sight from above or below. The food and water would nourish their tired bodies and Basho realized all of the hard work that it took to get up here was worth every inch of difficult ground they had to negotiate. 

When they got inside the shelter, Basho turned to face Bright Angel and told her, again, how brave she was for doing what she did. He also told her what was really important was that they still had each other, they were safe, and there were food and water for as long as they stayed here. He didn’t want to tell her that they could not stay here for very long but wanted Bright Angel to regain her strength and rest for as long as she needed. Then he remembered something else that Spiritus shared that would perk Bright Angel up when she heard it. He said, “The most important thing is glowing and if you have that, Bright Angel, all of the rest falls into place.”

Of course, Basho didn’t think the virtue of love could protect either of them from the assassin's bullets. But he did think having another burro to love meant he would be even more vigilant for both of them, simply because there was more to gain and yet lose should it come to that. These peculiar, and often contradictory, feelings he sometimes had often made Basho feel more confused than clear. But Spiritus had helped him in this way too. He once said, “Glowing is meant to be both confusing and clear, depending on what each situation brings to the burro’s thinker and thumper. No burro knows how glowing works, except each knows how glowing doesn’t work, or should not work. Therefore, always follow your thumper and not necessarily your thinker. It’s just the nature of two different essences (genders) that come together and creates two different realities, as the humans say, yet somehow makes one shared reality.”

As Basho angled his body close beside Bright Angels, he heard something outside the shelter that sounded like a “swoosh.” He walked outside the shelter and looked up in the sky. Then he noticed a raven fly by the shelter, which was closely followed by another raven. It must have been their sound that he heard. Both ravens returned to make another pass and this time one of them sounded the familiar, TOK, followed by the distinct warbling sound ravens made. Basho cocked his head and twitched his ears, as he listened to the deep throaty sound. Basho immediately knew who they were: it was Kiva and Kachina, and they would be the eyes for Spiritus as if he even needed to see what he already sensed. Basho wanted to call after the two ravens, but to sound even a small bray might betray his and Bright Angel’s position. Instead, he sent his thoughts after them and thanked the two ravens for what they did to help them escape from the two cowboys who had nearly caught up with them. At first, Basho didn’t know what the two ravens had in mind to do, but when Spiritus told him to climb high and climb as quickly as possible, Basho sensed he and Bright Angel would be okay, especially when he saw what the ravens did to save them. He could imagine what the mountain lion had in store for the two cowboys, for he saw them depart and give up their chase. From what Spiritus told him, Pumster would wait in ambush and make certain the cowboys did not follow another way. He also assured Basho that no harm would come to the humans. Pumster, he said, just wanted to have some fun.

After a few more passes, the two ravens performed a series of what the humans called, aerobatics. He had often watched and admired what these stark black creatures could do, and Basho sensed they were saying farewell in their graceful aerial maneuvers. He watched as they performed their artistic ballet drawn in the essence-giving gift of life for all creatures — what the humans called “space.” Of course, it was oxygen in the atmosphere that all creatures above the water needed to exist, which burros simply called it “the breath of HAW!” When he felt dizzy from watching the ravens, he thanked them again and walked back to the shelter and told Bright Angel who they were and now Kiva and Kachina would inform Spiritus that he and Bright Angel were safe and at the shelter. Then, he leaned closer to Bright Angel and touched his wet nose against hers. It felt soft and he gently nibbled on it. This gesture always made Bright Angel whiny, as in to make her smile and giggle in human terms. She stifled the sound, however, and knew they were to be quiet for as long as they remained in this place. Basho persisted anyway because he sensed Bright Angel liked him doing what he did, just to make sure she felt safe.

He still didn’t want to tell Bright Angel all that he sensed or knew was ahead of them. They may have to wait for the darkness, and maybe even longer before they left the shelter. Once she was rested, Basho hoped Bright Angel’s fear would not be as strong as he still sensed within her. There was much they to risk to get to the other side of the river. He decided not to force Bright Angel to leave before she felt she was ready. She may even have exhausted her reserve energy to get this far, yet they were still very much in danger no matter how long they could hold up in this place where they managed to get. Basho remembered the words of Lucanburro who said, “The mere apprehension of a coming evil has put many (burros) into a situation of utmost danger.” The humans had, indeed, done just that. But the second group, these so-called Rough Riders, had to be the worst that Basho and Bright Angel faced and were still somewhere ahead of them, or soon would be. This notion Basho could not shake from his head, and he was very certain he and Bright Angel would have to face the danger and face their fear before it was all over. They may have to endure the suffering for a lot longer than Bright Angel can cope. But as MicheldeMontaigneburro once said, “The burro who fears suffering is already suffering from what the burro fears,” and Basho doesn’t know how to convince Bright Angel of this truth. On the other hoof, FranklinRosseveltburro once said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Spiritus had taught Basho he must always face the fear, and like what the humans called a bridge, Basho must walk across it to get to the other side. Otherwise, he would continue to confront whatever it was that made him afraid.

Basho looked at that simile and studied it in his mind. The bridge seemed to stretch from where they were to where they had to go. There would be a span where Basho knew they would have to risk the encounter with the posse who would lie in wait for them. It was getting darker, and he thought perhaps their best option was to try and make the crossing at night. He thought this for two reasons. One, the darkness might also slow the humans down and, therefore, give he and Bright Angel more time to get through that open country where they would be sure to be seen if they crossed in the daylight. The second reason was burros could travel more quickly than the horses and riders, which would give them a chance to get ahead of the posse, and possibly beyond the open country where he and Bright Angel would be more vulnerable. The only problem was: could Bright Angel leave when darkness fell?

Basho looked at her with a different look this time, for he needed to assess what she was capable of doing, or perhaps not doing. He saw what he needed to see and told her, “It will be okay Brightee 2. We will have to wait until you are rested enough to travel. Your form will tell you this and not your thinker. Listen to what your form tells you and rest up for the journey. The hoofing (footing) will be difficult from this place to where Bounty is no more. But it won’t be as difficult as it had been. We must still be strong to make the journey for we are close, Brightee 2, to where we need to go.”

Naturally, they were both close and far depending on how Basho looked at it. They had made many miles today and still had many to go. The only snag was the posse and was it not for this group Basho and Bright Angel could take their time. He knew they could travel by night if they had to, for burros can see in the darkness, just as horses could. But burros are also creatures of habit. They navigate by what they see and know is familiar. Where he and Bright Angel were was not familiar terrain. This meant they had to more than cautious, including staying to the route that Spiritus said would eventually get them to where they had cross one boundary into another. Basho also had a lot of roaming experience in the darkness, whereas Bright Angel did not. She also stayed fairly close to where she was born, near “One Jack — Four Jennies.” The country where she was headed was nothing like the place she had grown used to over the years.

After Basho had deliberated all of this in his head he told Bright Angel to rest and get off her hooves and they would both remain out of sight until he knew it was safe for them to continue. Before she laid down, Basho went to the shrubs and pulled on their branches and carried the food over to where Bright Angel stood. He nudged her with his nose and told her to eat. She lowered her head and did as he asked. Then she spoke for the first time in a long time. She asked, “Are you afraid, Basho?” That is all she asked, and Basho thought for a while before he answered her. Of course, he was afraid, and he was also prepared to face his fear, just as Spiritus said he must always do. But Bright Angel was courageous in her way, and he needed to keep her feeling that they were safe and that they had an edge. He then replied, “As a burro thinketh, so the burro is.” Bright Angel understood without Basho having to say anything more.

Among the virtues, wisdom and guidance that come with the degrees he had already gleaned from the Upper Order Truths, there is another benefit to the burro. Namely, how to conduct one’s essence and never give in to exterior matters that may cause inner conflict. As one dictum of burrosophy states, “Work the problem and don’t stray from what needs to be done and is, therefore, the single most important part of the problem.” The human expression might go something like, “Don’t let hills turn into mountains when in fact they’re really not.” Basho could understand how easy it would be for him to let the situation get worse if he let it and the worse would happen if he let his fear run away with him. That’s exactly what happened to most of the herd, as they trotted to what they thought was safety, only to find they were corralled into a dead-end.

Perhaps what bothered Basho more than anything else is that he could not take Bright Angel’s fear from her essence. No burro could. The best he could do was to manage his fear and lead by example. As RalphWaldoEmersonburro once said, “Other burros are lenses through which we read our thinkers!”

Then, Basho made a vow to keep his fear in check, and he would, therefore, act strong enough for both of them, mainly because he knew he had to. Bright Angel expected no less from the dashing young burro who got her this far. She instinctively knew and trusted that he would protect her at all costs, and she continued to eat the food he had laid at her feet. Gradually, she settled down for the first time since dawn arrived, which was when chaos rained down upon her and all the rest of her clan and the herd.

Aligning his body with hers, Basho snuggled close to Bright Angel. He told her she would rest and save her energy for when they had to leave. Before long the sky would turn dark and reveal the eyes of the burros who had already rejoined HAW! At least, that was how burrolore looked at the starry picture. The portrayal of the cosmos in such a way was meant to be paternal and comforting for the burros that roamed below.

While she continued to nibble at her food, Basho maintained his vigilance and used his mind to concoct several plans, just in case they were thwarted at any point along the way.

What essentially kept Basho going was the concern he had for Bright Angel’s safety more than for his own. He once asked Spiritus about why glowing sometimes made him feel weak in the knees and down to the fetlocks? He also said the sensation often crowded his mind with such fears and concerns that he wasn’t sure if glowing was something good for burros. Spiritus let go a delightful bray when he heard Basho say this. He told Basho to think and feel this way only reveals a burro’s inner strength, not its weakness. In time, he said, Basho would understand that kind of feelings that are meant to empower, and not emasculate, any burro. Spiritus then quoted two famous burros from burrolore who could confirm what he told Basho. MahatmaGandhiburro said, “A coward burro is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.” Then he quoted something from JohannvonGoetheburro who said, “We are shaped and fashioned by what we love.”

These pleasant memories Basho draws on seemed so easy back then. There was also no danger or concern for him to wonder or worry about, although there was. But he could not betray what he thought might happen and let Bright Angel know too. He had to keep part of his burro truth to his essence, for it would do Bright Angel more harm than good for him to alarm her. In this case, to tell the truth was not the right thing for Basho to do. Besides, as OscarWildeburro once remarked, “The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple.” Basho took his meaning in the sense it would not be easy for him to explain to Bright Angel how he felt deep inside his essence. He was certain it would only confuse and alarm her. 

Basho thanked Spiritus for telling him about the shelter. This was the usual way Basho and Spiritus communicated with each other since he was not in bodily form. Spiritus had long ago given up his form when he took his last breath. Because he had been a master of the Eight Upper Order Truth when he left the temporal plane, he could only be realized by burros who had also taken the path of the Upper Order Truths, as Basho did. Spiritus was now a master of the Ninth Upper Order Truth, and some burros claimed he was a master of the Tenth. But burros do not boast about such accomplishments, nor do they have egos that might lead them astray. Instead, it was enough to know here was one of the most sage of all burros, what humans might call an avatar. Spiritus, therefore, joined the ranks of Buddhaburro and Jesus burro and SaintGermainburro, among so many other masters of the Upper Order Truths as espoused by burrolore and burrosophy. But like a Boddhisattvaburro, Spiritus remained close to the temporal realm where the burros lived beneath the energy field of HAW. He was a teacher, as all master burros are, and Spiritus wanted to continue with his association to the many aspiring burros, like Basho, who felt they needed his help and, therefore, closer to their reality and not so far away as the energy field of HAW often seemed to some of these novitiates of the lower Upper Order Truth degrees.

Although Spiritus did not come into Basho’s mind, nor make a rare appearance in form as he did earlier in the day, Basho still felt his presence. He once told another nomad who had just begun the path of the Upper Order Truths what it felt like to be in touch with a master of the Upper Order Truths. Basho said it seemed like there was more of his essence inside himself and he could be more than what he was told all burros are by birth. He often felt alone, yet he wasn’t alone. There was always a presence within his essence that he felt, like a guiding burro that he could not see with his eyes, but could tell was inside his essence and mind at the same time. Basho, therefore, knew there was more to his essence than just being part of some clan that belonged to a larger herd and lived only for what was available to eat and drink. Neither did he feel the urge to join the mounting ritual that happened every year in the autumn. He knew such an urge was important to keep the burro pedigree strong. Yet, his path was more contemplative and less concerned about nature’s calling in such appetites. At the same time, Basho was also practical, even cunning. He had to know the burro arts, which in human terms might be construed as the martial arts, except there was no need to duel with any burro to see who was top burro in any contest. What the Upper Order Truths were really all about was learning more about HAW! HAW! was the ultimate mystery and explanation at the same time. Only the burro who could climb high enough above its base nature could see far enough into such a mystery. But once the path of the Upper Order Truths was begun, it meant the burro would forever be on that incline that would demand from the burro only what the burro could do. The degrees were, therefore, meant to take, not just the burro’s essence in any period of roaming between its mother’s ass and the end of its last breath. Rather, it was to be and then not to be, over and over and over, for that, in essence, was the realm of HAW! It was a roaming that was forever coming and never getting there.

No burro knew just how many Upper Order Truths there were. The number was not so important, and neither was the prestige of the degrees the burro had obtained. In this sense, burros who studied the Upper Order Truths could easily mix in with those who never did or may never. Since burros do not have egos, there are no emotions of jealousy or anything similar. Those kinds of temperaments only flared up when the mounting ritual came along. That was because the strongest jacks had to sire the best jennies to create the strongest line of burros still to come. Somehow burros managed to get along and never had what humans call feuds. They simply worked things out and every jack found the jenny, or in the case of burro mating, the four, five, or six jennies that would sire his young.

Basho thought of these things among so many others, and his mind was busy. But it was to use his thinker, as burros call their minds than to let it use him by too much worrying. He needed to be cautious, and he needed to be wary, in the case of danger. But there was a fine between panic and being prepared to act, which was exactly what Basho spent his private time working out in his head. The most important thing he had to do was make sure the masked riders did not find them from a location that Spiritus might not have thought about. Already today he heard the whizzing noise that almost struck his body but hit the rocks, instead. Basho knew what those loud explosive sounds could do to a burro’s form (body), and he was more worried one or more of those abrupt sounds might return and hit one or both of them, even higher up where they may have to wait until the bright light returns

There was enough shelter to conceal the two burros or two more if they showed up. But Basho was sure he and Bright Angel were the last of their clan to survive the route and ruckus that struck at dawn. As for the other clans that made up the five hundred or so remaining burros below the South Rim, he was just as certain all of their members were also caught unawares and herded to a single place that would be their final roaming inside this cavernous place where the burros had lived for a little over one hundred years. From burrolore, he had heard about the periodic carnage that attempted to wipe out their genus in its entirety. However, such genocide was never successful until now. Spiritus already informed him that such carnage would not take place because of one human’s efforts, even though the burros that survived the ordeal would be taken out of the canyon by the very machines that had tracked them down over the years. This time, instead of singing noises from such craft were humans who were dedicated to save every burro that was captured and would see to it that the burros were taken to new homes, many homes in fact, where they could live out the rest of their natural born life being taken care of by humans instead of running from them. It was simply the practice to keep a safe distance from all humans over the years after the original owners left them to their designs. As far as most burros were concerned, any upright was a dangerous upright, and even more so if they concealed themselves in the flying craft, or else wore the green skins and could talk into a box that made strange squawking noises.

Basho was inclined to consider humans as potentially dangerous, although not all of them were. He especially enjoyed the ones that, as his friend, Walker, said were creatures the humans called “turtles.” It turned out Walker saw hikers in the canyon who were backpacking, and the square frames on their backs were what he thought might be similar to the much smaller desert tortoises he saw. In some cases, Walker thought these upright-turtles were even slower, especially when coming out of the canyon.

For the most part, the burros got along with the humans who came into their home with or without the strange things on their backs. Mostly, these humans enjoyed seeing the burros and the burros didn’t mind seeing them, especially when the humans tried to emulate the burro’s sound. Of course, the sound of he-haw...he-haw to a burro’s ears is not the same as what came out of the human’s mouth. To the burro, such a sound was closer to what any burro sounded like when constipated. Another burro, whose name was Jack, which was about as basic a name as any burro could get, except Jack was a jenny, said the sound of he-haw out of an upright’s mouth made a jackass out of them. Of course, she learned this expression from burrolore and didn’t understand its significance. But like the other burros, Jack didn’t mind such attempts to communicate with him or any other burro. She just thought they smelled very strange to her sniffer (nose). She especially got a kick out how some of the humans would parody her by placing their hands one either side of their small fronts (heads) and wiggle their fingers. She once told another burro the gesture certainly brought out the jackass in the upright.

As for Basho and how he felt about humans, he, like Spiritus, knew they were another species with consciousness, just as all burros have such a mysterious force inside their minds. But the humans assumed only their species had such a force and were, therefore, exclusive in this department while other creatures did not. And so, it was up to burros and other creatures to help raise human consciousness, which, as MahatmaGandhiburro said, “No culture can live, if it attempts to be exclusive.” 

When Basho went on his first roaming, which all novitiates of the Upper Order Truths must do to prepare their minds and hearts and bodies for these rituals, he was close to this part of the canyon when he stopped to rest, eat and sleep. He thought he was alone until he heard a strange sound, what humans call music. But this music did not have human language, so much as it was tuneful. He followed the sound and cautiously moved down the center of the small water (creek, as opposed to big water, river) and when he was close he stopped and stuck his head around the branches of a salt cedar, which the humans call tamarisk, a pesky inner canyon riparian plant, and saw where the sound was coming from. Not more than five or six burro lengths in front of him, which is how burros measure distance, sat a human on the side of the creek, who appeared to be washing his body. This time, Basho wasn’t afraid of what he saw and enjoyed the sound the human made with his biter (mouth). Then, the human saw Basho but stayed where he sat and continued whistling. Basho was more curious by the sound and by this lone human he found so far away from where he had ever seen any human.

Basho stepped farther out into the middle of the creek and moved another burro length and got closer. The human just sat and continued the ritual of bathing while whistling. But then he stopped making the sound and this time tried to communicate with Basho. At first, Basho couldn’t understand what the human was saying, or trying to say. Spiritus had learned how to understand the human language and had told Basho he might also learn it when he was ready to do so. It surprised Basho to know that he could understand some of what the human was saying. It was what humans call, small talk, but the human was friendly, and he meant no harm to the burro. Basho moved another burro length and began to plane his head this way and then that, all the while moving his ears to tune in more of what he heard. Before he knew it, Basho was almost directly across from the human where he stood and waited. Basho let the human know that he wasn’t afraid and lowered head and drank some water. The human slowly stood up and did not come closer. But he continued to talk and then do the whistling sound again. Basho remembered the human tell him it was a tune from another human’s music, called “The Grand Canyon Suite,” the first opening bars. Basho didn’t know Ferde Grofé from Robert Goulet, whom the human also mentioned he could see another song he called, “Some Enchanted Evening,” which it was that time of the day in human terms. 

At that point, the human did something very strange, which Basho almost mistook the human’s intentions when he did it. The human gathered some of the vegetation that grew near where he stood, then with his outstretched arm he held the edibles (food) in his hand and moved close to where Basho continued to stand. Basho was wary and ready to flee, but something told him there was no danger in what the human was doing. When the human was within a burro’s length of Basho, he stopped and continued to talk. But he took no more steps and waited. Then it made sense to Basho what the human did and with a great deal of caution, although with trust, Basho moved a little closer to the human, then stopped and extended his head as far as it would go. It wasn’t quite close enough to take from the human and the human stretched a little closer to make sure Basho could get the assortment of grass and willow and tamarisk flowers. Finally, Basho took the offering and had a great deal of it in his mouth. He then backed a couple of steps away but chewed the food. The human stood and talked to him as he ate and then stepped away from Basho, which Basho assumed was a matter of burrospace (personal), so as not to crowd him when he ate.

There wasn’t much more to it than that, except both Basho and the human seemed to delight in the encounter. It was also the first time Basho learned how to trust his instincts in such matters and realized Spiritus was right when he later told him how some humans are just more special and sensitive than are others. Burrolore also confirms this, where it is said, “When you meet a burro, you judge him by his coat (appearance); when you leave, you judge him by his thumper(heart).” 

After that experience, Basho moved on, just as the human resumed his whistling music. Every few steps Basho turned around and watched what the human did. But he just saw alongside the water and made no pretense of coming after Basho. He just sat there and said kind words every now and again, like “Happy trails,” or “Nice meeting you, handsome,” or “I hope to meet you again someday.” And so on. Basho would have enjoyed staying longer but he was roaming, and that meant he had a lot of trail to cover before he slept. But he knew the kindness of some humans and was less distrustful of their kind than he had been. As Spiritus often told him, “When the student burro is ready, then the teacher will appear. But not every circumstance means the burro will learn from another burro. Spiritus said one must assume masters come in all forms, even if the form appears to be anything but a master. He then quoted another proverb from burrolore and said, “Never judge a burro or a human by its cover (skin).” 

Bright Angel saw Basho deep in thought and walked toward him. She didn’t say anything, but he felt her quivering. He stepped closer and nudged her with the side of his head in a playful sort of way. It was to show her that they were still safe, and they still had a chance. He wanted Bright Angel to be okay, but that was entirely up to Bright Angel to decide. The best he could do was stay close to her and do what was necessary in the moment: stay concealed and try and win Bright Angel’s confidence in getting her to overcome the worst of her fear.

Ω Ω Ω

The afternoon had aged and crossed into early evening. It was dead calm, and the silence was both a comfort and a distraction to Basho’s cautionary senses. He had to be vigilant even in this seemingly secure place.

Looking out beyond the protection where they waited, Basho surveyed the familiar scenery. He realized he had been in this part of the canyon before and perhaps it was near the place where he met the human who made the strange sounds and spoke and fed him. But that encounter happened closer to the big water, the river. Where he and Bright Angel stood was the opposite of that place. In fact, they were high above what the humans called the Supai Formation, which was a series of four individual sandstone formations of pronounced ledges and slopes that rested above the sixth layer known as the Redwall Formation. Long ago, he had wandered above this formation too. He went past the Hermit, the Coconino, the Toroweap, and the Kaibab formations, which were the first four layers of this very big place where he was born, as were all the other burros. Now he and Bright Angel were on the fifth layer and had gotten past the most difficult layer above the Tonto, the Redwall. Below that, Temple Butte and Muav were fairly easy formations to navigate, and the Bright Angel formation was the floor of the Tonto Platform. Beneath it was a formation that was called the Tapeats. It was the lowest layer that was formed horizontally while those rocks below were vertical, or what the humans called old worn down mountain remnants.

Because they were so high above most of the other formations, Basho could see off in the distance below and saw part of the formation that Bright Angel was named after, which was the ninth formation below all the others. As to why and how each burro had the names that they did, these matters were decided by the each jenny within a few days after the burro was born. Because all burros knew something about burrolore, which also had been influenced by humans to some degree, that is as objective names and human history that overlapped with burro history, terms such as the canyon formations were known by the burros. In Bright Angel’s case, her mother, who knew some things about the Upper Order Truths, was about to give birth. On that day she remembered something WoodrowWilsonburro said, who had his counterpart in the very human who made the burro’s home into something she knew was called a National Park. The burro said, “No burro that does not see visions will ever realize any high hope or undertake any high enterprise.”

Later, when her offspring was born, she decided to start the jenny off on the right hoof and use this burro’s wisdom to help guide the new burro through the roaming process. The jenny took the human name, “Bright Angel,” which matched the same formation where the burro was born in a cluster of mesquite trees near a place called, “One Jack — Four Jennies.” The humans called it Hance Canyon.

Remarkably, hers and the other nine major formations happened to be the same number of the Upper Order Truths. There were more Upper Orders rumored to be beyond these degrees, but no burro in the herd had ever heard about any burro ever ascending to such levels. Since Basho had recently acquired his Fourth degree, he was no longer an apprentice to the Upper Order Truths. He, like any burro who chose to study these degrees of learning, could go as far as he desired. Therefore, no burro was concerned about how many degrees there were, so much as it was a matter of taking the first step and the rest would follow. That way no burro ever lost sight of the journey by becoming too consumed with the final destination. In fact, there was no final destination, Spiritus told him, just as HAW! was an essence always becoming and, therefore, never complete, yet never not complete. HAW! was also considered the “Source of the ten thousand things,” and the “Mysterious Burrohood.” This only meant there was no use in any burro trying to solve such mystery or define for other burros what already is. Rather, as Spiritus put it, “The burro that roams the path of the Upper Order Truths was meant to find its essence by way of understanding, and then shutting its biter (mouth) while also revealing its thinker (mind).

Such oral history as this was an option to learn and was never any push or demand by the elders for burros to apply their essence in such a way. In fact, many of the elders, who were also the leaders of their clans, weren’t enrolled in the Upper Order Truths. They were just aware of some of these teachings and traditions and stories that were passed down through the generations, especially the kind of information that had to do with burro decorum. Only those burros that felt the calling subscribed to such teachings. As students, they let go of the thought and waited for the teacher to appear

Ω Ω Ω

For the nearly six years of his life that Basho had called these palisades of the desert his home, he couldn’t seem to find the joy in roaming, at least, not in the sense he used to feel when he was a true nomad. To roam meant the burro was solitary, but it could also be part of the initiation rites for the First, Second, and Third Upper Order Truths. These roaming adventures were meant to strengthen the burro’s inner essence and teach them to search for the meaning of their existence on the temporal plane. However, the search wasn’t intended to try and figure out what the nature of HAW! was, or anything to do with this greater essence that was also contained within the burro’s essence. What mattered the most to burros who set on the path of such learning was to search for that one thing that mattered above all else. That one thing was also special to each and every burro and, therefore, was something private and never talked about to other burros. 

Unlike human theology in all its represented decrees, there was no need for the burro to wonder or worry about what was waiting after its last breath was drawn. There was no such thing as sin to cleanse from the burro’s mind or heart. Burros were not so complicated in what humans call their psychological and spiritual natures. They were simple creatures that had breath and spirit, and it would last for just so long before each changed from form, as a body-mind complex, to that of formlessness, where there is no distinction. In fact, in burrosophy, there is no distinction in the temporal zone, either. That is, no burro is considered greater or lesser in comparison to the others. There is, therefore, no need to distinguish one burro from the other because of its pelage, or how tall or small it is, or how cunning or not so cunning it is, and any of the usual comparison-contrast notions that humans are prone to do when critiquing or judging others of their kind.

As far as Basho’s name goes, his name was given to him by none other than Spiritus. Basho had lived in a place below what the humans called, Maricopa Point, There was a mine up there that had been productive up until 1963, called the Lost Orphan Mine. Below the point, and just southwest of the plateau where most of the burros wandered and lived, Basho was born. His mother had wandered too close to a precipitous cliff in search of an edible plant he couldn’t resist nibbling on. When she got a sizable bite of the plant in his mouth, the ground beneath her hooves gave way and he tumbled into a deep recess north of the plateau. It was said she took the incident with great dignity and never let go a single bray to betray to other burros what had happened. As Aristotleburro once said, “Dignity consists not in possessing honors, but in the consciousness that we deserve them.” She was a good jenny, and she was a good mother who encouraged her only progeny to be more than what other burros assume of their essence. But not to do it in such a way that would make Basho ever forget that he was one of HAW!’s emissaries that allowed HAW! to express the one essence through the many. 

Later, when he found what had happened to his first teacher, Basho stood on top of a high knoll and brayed after her until he nearly lost his voice. He did not know she had already taken up her honored position in the starry points above his ears and watched down upon him with the same glowing she had when she was near. Her name was Goldmine, where she got her name from one of the holes the prospector, Dan Hogan, searched for copper ore on top of a place called, Horseshoe Mesa. 

Basho’s father was a true nomad. He had sired many young, and not all jacks remain close to their families. No burro knew what became of the handsome jack, except he told another burro that he wanted to travel beyond the place where the human miner lived, worked, and entertained other humans who visited him. This particular miner also lived in the farthest expanse of the canyon west of the main trail called, Bright Angel. It was the South Bass trail, named after William Bass that Basho’s father had in mind, but he was never seen again. Rumor had it that he made it that far, and quite a lot farther. Like the prospector had done when he was alive, Basho’s father, Surprise, which was yet another canyon formation far to the west of the Tonto Platform, wanted to go where the old prospector often went — where the humans, called Havasupai Indians, lived. These canyon dwellers, who were also called, “The people of the Blue-Green Water,” due to the color of the water that ran through this immensely long side canyon, had befriended the prospector. It was a long and difficult journey from the prospector’s camp to that far away place in the west and Surprise wanted to go and see for his essence what was out there, just because he was always looking for something new to see and experience.

Basho was named, as all burros are, by his mother, Goldmine. He was called, Bucket because he often played near where he was later raised by his mother, below Maricopa Point. It was there that he saw his father, Surprise, leave for his roaming experience. He had said a very important thing to Bucket before he left and that was, “You can choose to lead, or you can choose to follow. But there is another way to find your essence without having to do either.” Bucket was too young to understand what his father left him to ponder, but he never forgot the words.

Not too long after Bucket came into the world, he had been playing near a mine shaft and had stumbled across an illegal camp site that some hikers used and kept out of sight from the rangers who patrolled the inner canyon. The young burro wandered into the campsite, which was vacant at the time, and was curious about all that he found. It seemed too tempting just to ignore, and he was especially curious about a shiny object that he found. There was water inside, and the item was later determined by his mother to be something the humans called a bucket. Well, the young burro didn’t know a bucket from a backpack, although there were several of those around, too. He decided to pick up the bucket by his teeth and carry it away from the campsite he found, just to examine, and maybe play with the object.

Goldmine and a few of her burro friends had watched the excited young burro playing with something. They were curious and moved closer, and she immediately recognized the implement. As he played with the object, the young burro would toss it over his head, or paw at it, or push it with his nose. Then, he wanted to see how far he could kick it. After all, that’s what his mother said his hind legs were for, and he wanted to test them. He kicked the bucket so hard that on the first contact it flew high in the air and went into a steep ravine, where it landed in the creek bed the humans called, Horn Creek. Goldmine laughed and enjoyed what had happened, for the young jack could not figure how to go down and retrieve so that he could continue playing with the object.

She strolled toward him and said it was far too dangerous to go down and get the object back, which she called by name, and then decided that name would also be his name, “Bucket.”

As it turned out, the humans were later caught and forced to leave the camp site. What Bucket later heard was the water in the creek had been poisoned by radiation from the mine, itself. It was, therefore, off limits to humans, which burros already had the sense not to drink anyway since, to begin with, the water had a peculiar taste.

After Goldmine passed away, the young burro, Bucket, was adopted by this or that jenny and encouraged to join the clan that Goldmine was a part of, and Bucket was also a member. But Bucket had other things on his busy mind. He liked the other burros, and they liked him. But there was just something about the way he perceived HAW!’s realm on these temporal shores. Namely, Bucket was curious, as was his father, what was over the next horizon.

In time, Bucket grew up and heard about the burros that were called, nomads. He also wanted to become a roamer and a nomad like them. The only trouble was such things in a burro’s life must come from within, and there are few, if any teachers, who will show a burro how to go about it.

It was fortuitous that Bucket eventually found Spiritus, which was when Bucket turned three years old. Spiritus had materialized and stood about a place where the big water was fierce. The humans called it, Granite Rapids. Bucket saw the bright white outline of a burro off in the distance and moved toward the form without fear. He didn’t recognize this burro from his clan or any other clan Bucket had seen. This burro was also smaller than most other grown up burros he had seen. 

As he got nearer, Spiritus noticed the burro was heading straight toward him. It wasn’t any accident that the young burro could see him, for few burros could. This burro must have possessed the First Upper Order Truth, as a sense because it would take such a gift to see a transcendental burro in the first place. Spiritus waited until the young burro was close and asked, “If you see me, then you must also believe in me. Therefore, I am.”

Bucket paused a few feet from the strange sight that he witnessed and said nothing. He just studied the brightness of the all-white burro before him. Then he said, “Of course I see you. Therefore you must be real. My viewers (eyes) do not deceive me, although thinkers (minds) sometimes can.”

From that day forward Spiritus took the young and curious burro under his hoof. He sensed the special qualities he had that all burros have, except most don’t recognize this in their essence. Bucket told his burrostory, which is his life’s history, to Spiritus and described what he wanted to do with his essence for as long as he could bray, snort, sniff, and fart. But there was just one thing missing, Spiritus, thought, and that was a proper name. Because the young burro was on his own, it was possible for any sage burro having the rank of, at least, the Fifth Upper Order Truth to take another burro as its novitiate. Spiritus made it so and gave the burro a new name, Basho, named after the famous itinerant Bashoburro who traveled in faraway places with strange names. He was said to be an embodiment of many thoughts and philosophies the humans call Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism, Shinto, and, especially, Zen, the most obscure teachings of Buddhist thought. Spiritus’ father was called, Sora, who was said to have walked the many roads with his friend, Basho. Spiritus, therefore, thought it fitting this young novitiate should have such a name to fit his true nature. More importantly, Spiritus knew Basho, the burro, would accomplish all of his goals and surpass them. But more than this he would be the sole survivor of the herd, for that is how Spiritus saw his young novitiate in another sense even Spiritus did not know what such things meant.

Since Bucket first met Spiritus and later became known as Basho, he felt he had found his true roaming and purpose to unravel the wonders and the mystery of his essence. Spiritus also said to others of his kind that he had found in Basho a burro who may one day resume his teachings when he left the temporal plane for good.

Ω Ω Ω

Basho and Bright Angel remained close to each other for the longest time. She could feel her energy getting stronger but knew she could not continue too much further, had he asked. But she would continue with Basho if he asked or if circumstances warranted. Meanwhile, Basho emitted an inner calm he hoped reached into Bright Angel’s essence too.

Everything to do with his former ways had changed when he met her. He was a nomad, who, like his father, had a curiosity for any horizon, as in what was beyond where his discerning eyes could not see. Since Spiritus took him on as an apprentice, Basho was especially curious to know his world from the inside out. Spiritus even told him how the appearance of anything was merely a convenient way of distinguishing one object from another. This outer form, he further related, was not the essence of the form. To find that Basho would have to look deeper, especially when it came to burros. All were different, and no two were ever alike.

It was just one of many insights Spiritus had about how to perceive the life process and everything that made its cycle work. Basho turned his head and looked at Bright Angel. She was more than just a beautiful burro in the entire herd. As EmilyDickinsonburro said, “Beauty is not caused. It is.” To Basho, Bright Angel was the most special burro he had ever seen in real form, for she had something much deeper, just as Spiritus said, that made her different than all the other jennies he had encountered. In fact, Basho had not been too interested in this part of his nature until he met Bright Angel. He would have liked to reflect some more on that happy encounter when he first met her, but there was too much on his mind to even take his mind off of the concentrated watch he was obliged to do. The light of day continued to fade, and soon it would be darkness. Even though he thought the masked riders would not dare pursue them at night, it would not surprise Basho to hear one or more of that group climb the rocks on foot and trap them. That thought had crossed his mind when he and Bright Angel first climbed the broken rocks to get up this far. There was no way for either of them to keep out of sight at that time.

Changing his posture from casual to full alert, Basho studied the tension that had just entered his mind and immediately affected his body. He and Bright Angel could travel at night if they had to but up here the footing was slippery and he was not familiar with the path, much less how to navigate to the place he was told would be safe for them to go. The trick was getting there and not being seen. Otherwise, Basho knew the masked riders would continue their pursuit as long as there were burros like him and Bright Angel to pursue.

He stepped out of the shelter again and looked up at the pale sky. Bright Angel lifted her head, too, and wondered what Basho saw up there. The stars that came with the darkness were not yet visible, but he knew how to read some of the more famous outlines, especially the Great Burro, Ursa Asinus. Where its swisher (tail) was located in its grouping was also the same direction where the bright light (sun) arose. They could navigate by such signs as these, but the footing would be dangerous, and more so because Basho was not familiar with the route. Burros also roamed at night when they were familiar with the terrain. This part of the canyon, however, was strange, and they were up so high that one false step or turn in the wrong direction could plummet one or both of them over the side, just as Basho’s mother had experienced before she exhaled her last breath.

With an anticipated plan worked up in his mind, Basho remained vigilant and sniffed at the air and used his ears to tell him what his eyes could not see. He expected the surprise of seeing the masked riders appear on foot, almost at any instant, yet he hoped it would not come to this. Bright Angel needed to rest for the night, and he counted on her rebuilding her strength before continuing in the morning unless they were routed before then.

Reaching over her back, Basho nibbled on her mane. He told Bright Angel he had to be sure they were safe and for now they were. She would have to rest before they could resume their roaming but he also told her the plan he made and why they might have to leave before then, even at night. She just shook her head and acknowledged what he told her. Basho then strolled over to the shrubs that were near the shelter, tugged at them and brought Bright Angel something to eat, which he laid down at her feet. She lowered her head and had the first bite to eat in a long time. He walked back to the shrubs and brought more back to her. She was grateful. He not only protected and guided her to safety but made sure she kept up her energy. She was pleased. Basho was, indeed, the rare burro in the herd and she didn’t know what he saw in her, except he obviously did.

When Bright Angel finished eating, he coaxed over to the seep and told her to lick the moisture, and it would hold her until they found a more generous supply of water. She did as he asked and when she had enough to drink she walked back to the center of the shelter, and without hesitation, she adeptly dropped to the ground and positioned her four legs out to the side. Then she looked up at Basho with a grateful look in her eyes, although there was still some concern that he saw. He leaned down and brushed his whiskers across her ears and let her know they were safe, and this was a good place to hold up for a while. But he told her they must be as quiet as the mule deer, which the burros called, grazers. Even to snort or expel internal gas might betray their position. Nor did Basho want to converse with Bright Angel, which burros communicate to one another by a means humans call, telepathy. He didn’t want to take any chances that any of the masked riders could hear their thoughts and find them that way.

Spiritus had told him he had met a human who could communicate to him. It was long ago when Spiritus was in form and had wandered over to that part of the canyon where Basho’s father had roamed. There Spiritus met one of the famous prospectors who lived in the canyon. He was called Louis Boucher, and often referred to as the “hermit.” Spiritus said he was a good human who had the ability to communicate with the burros he kept at his camp. When Spiritus wandered in one day, the human told him he was welcomed to stay and to mingle with the other burros. He sensed Spiritus could understand him, but Spiritus decided not to let him know. At least, not until he got to know the human better and could trust him.

Gradually, Spiritus did trust the human, just as Basho would one day trust the human he saw bathing in the small water. It was a theory of Spiritus that the mysterious force humans called consciousness was something humans also prized as did he and all the other burros. Some humans, perhaps most, coveted something they called “money” more than consciousness, which he learned this from the hermit. At that time Spiritus had just begun his roaming that matched his First Upper Order Truth degree. It was at this time when he learned that burros were not the only creatures of HAW! that had such a mysterious force between their ears and was part of their essence. This human who befriended certainly had the same force and so it was possible for Spiritus to communicate with him, as well as a few other humans he met when he roamed in their midst. Like so many other burros, Spiritus took his last breath when one of the singing noises tore into his body. But he did not die in vain because he stepped in front of a young burro who was just starting out on its path in life. The burro got away, and Spiritus fell on the ground and his gray-white coat turned red.

Instead of remorse for what happened, especially to feel anger and resentment toward the humans that caused his spirit to leave his body, Spiritus did not blame the human that took his life. He had recently been indoctrinated into the Fifth Upper Order Truth, and Spiritus knew something about how compassion and forgiveness can set a burro free while anger and regret will shackle its hooves.

As he lay there, a human approached and saw Spiritus who could not get up and try and escape. Nor could Spiritus do so even if he wanted to. He had lost too much blood, and the human who fired the weapon got down on his knees and realized there was something special about this burro. Spiritus felt a bond between them and here it was this very human who had fired his weapon and put Spiritus into mortal danger. Spiritus said the man apologized for what he had done. He said shooting the burros was an assignment he had to do, and it was different doing it from a distance. But now that he came to see what he had done, the view did not agree with him. The man told Spiritus this on that day, and Spiritus knew the language because of what he learned from the other human, the hermit. But Spiritus did not try to communicate with the human who sat on the ground beside him. Spiritus said he was too weak even to try. Yet, he learned more from that human, he said, than any other he had ever encountered. He told this story to Basho because Spiritus wanted Basho to know how life sometimes sends its assassins, yet the spirits (angels) are also there. In this act, the man committed was also found the reason not to do such things again. As he waited for Spiritus to draw his last breath, the man told the dying burro that he would give up this job he was hired to do for the Park Service and create a more humane establishment for all creatures great and small.

It was that exchange of compassion and understanding between Spiritus and the human that added more value to Spiritus’ life than anything else he had ever learned. It was in such a sacrifice where he found his true compassion for others, even to the point he could forgive this human for what he had done. Spiritus told Basho the greatest sacrifices are sometimes made by giving up what is prized the most. In this case, his essence.

Not too long after Spiritus gleaned this truth he took his last breath. The human stayed by him all that afternoon and into the early evening, just to make sure the burro did not die alone, for that was what he said. Spiritus changed to formlessness and knew the human took the time to do what humans do for their kind when death comes: he dug a grave and buried the burro he had shot and covered it with rocks so that no animals could eat the flesh of this noble creature he had killed. The man even buried his weapon with the burro. Later, the human was instrumental in creating the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, or the SPCA as it is more commonly referred.

Throughout the day Basho had reflected on such thoughts as these, that is when he had time to rest and think and use the energy from such thoughts to help restore his energy. Spiritus said what a burro thinks is what the burro also is. To keep such good thoughts in the burro’s mind would be beneficial, even to the point this energy, what humans call positive thinking, can rejuvenate a tired mind and body.

Then, Basho thought about the two ravens, Kiva and Kachina. They, too, had positive thoughts and could communicate with other creatures. Just then, a large raven flew by and made the familiar, Tok! sound when it passed. It was followed by another raven. Basho did not believe in coincidences and knew it was the same two ravens that had been so instrumental in saving him, and Bright Angel from the two cowboys Spiritus said was after them at that time. Basho was tempted to bray and thank the ravens but wisely decided to keep his essence and body concealed. He maintained the silence and sent them a message from his mind to theirs. He knew there an old creature, called a cougar, who was also instrumental in that part of their rescue. He thanked him, too, just to make sure Pumster, as he was called, knew he and Bright Angel were still safe.

Sniffing at the air, Basho could still detect nothing out of the ordinary. There were only dust and dry air that pretty much was the way the spring began and it looked like it might be another dry spring and summer, as it was last year. On the other hoof, where Basho intended to travel with Bright Angel he might find conditions more favorable than where they lived.

The longer Basho stood beneath the overhang, the more he realized everything that happened today had come true just as he said it would. Even knowing that he acted with the best intention and tried to save the other clans it still did not make Basho feel good about the way things turned out. Far from it, in fact. Only one burro had listened to him, and she trusted Basho and now depended on his strength and cunning to take her to the east where they would be safe. 

With all that he faced, Basho sensed it was too easy to dwell on the negative. He had to concentrate on what he had to do to get to where he wanted to go, and that was all there was to it. Had he traveled alone, then perhaps Basho would have had an edge. In fact, he was almost sure of it. But having Bright Angel to worry about meant he had to be twice as strong and cunning. It was the price of being a nomad compared to a joiner, as nomads called the burros who remained in the clan society. 

Basho opened his mouth and yawned. He was tired of thinking and tired of worrying. He needed to turn his attention elsewhere, just to give his mind a rest. He looked at the sky again and saw the bright crimson color that told him that bright light in the sky had gone to sleep. He once told Bright Angel that its light was a gift from HAW! to all burros, even humans, or any other creature for that matter. When it made its journey beyond where the burros could see this object, he said what made the light special for burros is that it bid each and every burro a peaceful rest but would return in the opposite direction and greet them to a new day. Of course, no burro knew how such things worked, including Burro. The life force was something mysterious above all burro’s standing or floppy ears. Even the Upper Order Truths did not teach such concepts, at least, as far as Basho knew. All that was really important for the burro to know was to take care of its essence and to be mindful of each breath along the way. What was, therefore, beneath their hooves and in right in front of their eyes should always be the burro’s focus. As RamDassburro once said, “The moment of the experience is the only dance there is. Therefore try to enjoy the experience as it is.” Basho, when he reflected on this saying, felt sad all over again. The experience he and Bright Angel were confronted with was anything but an occasion to do what that burro said. 

Basho raised his head and released another toothy yawn. He, too, was tired, for he had been on his hooves too long. Now he needed to trust his instincts more than his usual senses and take time to rest. After taking one last look in both directions, Basho was immobilized by exhaustion and his constant vigilance. Shaking some of the excess dust from his coat, he prepared himself to join Bright Angel on the ground and took advantage of the respite and distance and time he counted on to stay for the rest of the night.

Lowering the front part of his body to the ground, the lower half of his front legs folded and tucked beneath his frame. Then his hindquarters dropped with his rear legs slightly bent and protruded from the side. Snuggled close to Bright Angel, but facing outward, he still maintained his resolute watch and moved his ears and sniffed with his nose to be sure no human from the masked rider group would suddenly surprise and capture them.

Bright Angel leaned toward Basho and with her head nestled close to his neck. He felt her warm breath on his coat. Burros don’t live for tomorrow but only for today and only one moment at a time. But wondered what it would be like to be far away from this place and free in the east where he had heard from another nomad how much better it was to live without so many burros around all the time. Spiritus told him as much and said it would be a good place to raise more burros, only not so many that would draw attention upon his family. He meant the humans who seemed to be more and more as the seasons came and went. Basho was especially leery of those humans who came out of the sky and watched the burros on a regular basis. Something told him the recent sightings were not good, and these humans were planning something that was even worse for the burros.

From another Upper Order Truth, Basho remembered how the burro must never forget where he came from, or what had happened, but should never dwell on anything to the excess. It was simply a matter of staying on the middle path and detached from such memories. Otherwise, it would be too easy to be swept away by anything that especially brought back sad thoughts and regrets about what happened. But to learn such truths and to study them were not the same thing. Spiritus had often told him this same thing. The only way to learn was to demonstrate by action. At this late hour of the day, Basho doesn’t know how to turn off his thoughts let alone to stay detached from the fear and the concern that still grips him.

Suddenly, something came into his mind that Basho was receptive to hearing. It was something that Spiritus had said to him and was as though the old master had materialized in the very place where he and Bright Angel leaned against each other. He said, “Sometimes it is necessary to face your fear before you can resolve it and then move on.”

Basho turned his head and looked around the shelter and half expected Spiritus to appear. But that was not to be the case. Spiritus had merely made his essence known in Basho’s mind, which was usually the way Spiritus communicated with him. But earlier Basho saw Spiritus return from wherever Spiritus dwelled, what humans might call a transcendental state where such essence existed in a placeless place, like a spirit. In fact, it was the first time that Bright Angel saw Spiritus. His form was outlined in a bright light that seemed to get brighter the longer he appeared before each of them. Up until that time Basho had only seen Spiritus one other time.

The more Basho reclined and thought about what Spiritus told him, the more he realized he needed to heed the advice. It was at that time he needed to face his worst fears, for only then could he resume his journey when the sun came around and completed the journey that he promised Bright Angel he would make if she would go with him. 

He changed his position and angled his body so that he faced Bright Angel. Their eyes met, and there was nothing more to say that he already hadn’t said before. They just looked into each other’s eyes and let the silence do all the rest. Bright Angel’s expression glowed, which was what humans called a loving look. Her eyes also betrayed the worry that he couldn’t dispel from her any more than he could from his essence. Feeling some of the tenseness release from his body, Basho pressed closer to Bright Angel and connected with her thoughts. He reassured her that they would be okay where they were, and this was the place where they would wait until the sky turned bright in the east. She bobbed her head and never took her eyes away from him. She said nothing in return, but it was a look that assured Basho she was pleased, and she would continue to trust him. Their noses touched and their breath mingled, which was the second most intimate thing two burros can do with one another.

Then, Basho shifted his body again and watched the sky light grow dim. He thought about Bright Angel’s parents and what they must have thought when the other riders surprised them and forced them to that noisy place. He also thought about Bright Angel’s ancestors who came from a place called, “One Jack — Four Jennies.” Like Spiritus, these burros had also been befriended by a kind human. He was later emulated into burrolore as a burro called, “JohnHanceburro, who was also the first human to bring a burro into the canyon and the first to let them loose. He was a figure to be looked up to in both the human and burro form.

Basho let his mind drift backward and thought about the experiences that led up to this time and place. He would face his fear and find out how he could make this situation better for both of them. But until then he knew he was again on the run. The difference was how the humans that pursued him were also after Bright Angel. Basho was still certain no good would come to either of them if the masked riders caught up. In fact, he felt fairly certain the fear he sensed was the harm these pursuers intended to one or both of them once they caught up.

(. . .and this fable continues from here, and what an adventure it will be for Basho and Goldmine and all the others, including the cowboys hot in pursuit!)