He whipped all of the dogs in Flagstaff; and when our blood hounds came on from California, he put three of them hors de combat at once, and subdued the pup with a savage growl.

His crowning feat, however, made even the stoical Jones open his mouth in amaze.

We had taken Moze to the El Tovar at the Grand Canyon, and finding it impossible to get over to the north rim, we left him with one of Jones's men, called Rust, who was working on the Canyon trail.

Rust's instructions were to bring Moze to Flagstaff in two weeks.

He brought the dog a little ahead time, and roared his appreciation of the relief it to get the responsibility off his hands.