On one occasion, when going through a burning, sandy desert, both he and I suffered terribly from the hot, loose sand which poured between our toes and caused us great suffering.
Poor Bruno protested in the only way he could, which was by stopping from time to time and giving vent to the most mournful howls.

Besides, I could tell from the gingerly way he put his feet down that the burning sand would soon make it impossible for him to go any farther.

I therefore made him a set of moccasins out of kangaroo skin, and tied them on his feet.

These he always wore afterwards when traversing similar deserts, and eventually he became so accustomed to them that as soon as we reached the sand he would come to me and put up his paws appealingly to have his "boots" put on! But now age began to tell upon him; he was getting stiff in his limbs, and seldom accompanied me on hunting expeditions.

He seemed only to want to sleep and drowse away the day.