Last night the now familiar sound floated up from the wash next to camp. Tonight we are out trying to spot the fellow who has been making all the racket.  We scan the shoreline of the wash for movement.  There he is; a classic chocolate brown with white muzzle, tummy and feet…like he plopped down in white paint.  He is watching us. We are watching him as he grazes a bit, takes a few steps, stops to graze again.  All of a sudden he lets out his best burro call; whistle, wheeze and all.  We turn away satisfied with our discovery but are stopped in our tracks when from far down the wash another burro answers.  With sound to guide our search Kent spots them.  It must have been the evening call to come home because our buddy (we named him Barney the burro by the way) headed in their direction.