This was not the desert upland country of Utah, but a naked and bony world of colored rock and sand--a painted desert of heat and wind and flying sand and waterless wastes and barren ranges.

But it did not daunt Slone.

For far down on the bare, billowing ridges moved a red speck, at a snail's pace, a slowly moving dot of color which was Wildfire.
On open ground like this, Nagger, carrying two hundred and fifty pounds, showed his wonderful quality.

He did not mind the heat nor the sand nor the glare nor the distance nor his burden.

He did not tire.