The trouble has been that the burros did too well. Today their numbers have increased until they are a threat to wildlife habitat and in danger of eating themselves out of house and home.

Yet attempts to control their numbers has set off a controversy that drowns out the discordant braying of the burro itself.

In Arizona, BLM administers more than 121⁄2 million acres of public land and is responsible for programs having national significance, but nothing heats up such raw passions as the controversy generated by these inoffensive animals.

With the passage of the 1971 Wild Free-Roaming Horse and Burro Act, BLM and the Forest Service were charged with the protection and management of burros on land administered by the two agencies.

The Act provided for penalties of up to $2,000 and a year's imprisonment for capturing, killing or selling a wild horse or burro.

The burros were recognized as a part of the natural system within the ecology of the public lands. Under protection of the law, and since there are so few natural enemies, the animals have increased until an estimated 3,700 burros graze in Arizona and most of the areas they inhabit are now considered overpopulated.

The law provides three methods of keeping populations in check. They may be killed in a humane manner; removed to other areas of public lands that already have a burro population; or they may be rounded up and placed in the care of citizens who are willing and able to provide a home, (the so-called Adopt-aBurro program.) Even humane killing is highly controversial, and the Bureau has avoided it wherever possible. Most areas having burro populations are now overpopulated or nearly so, so transfer to other areas offers no real hope. Roundup and adoption seems to offer the most acceptable solution.

Not everyone agrees with the Bureau's solution. A few would like to see more drastic action

and a few of these would like to

get in on the action themselves. One citizen writes, "Before these Federal marksmen take over in a burro hunt, why not open this to the sportsmen who pays the conservation bills by his licensing?"

Others offer similar solutions, "We, the undersigned, request... every effort . . . to negotiate with France (to) purchase our burros. It is a wellknown fact that France is purchasing horses from the United States for conversion to meat for their citizens..."

Still another citizen doesn't care how the burro population is reduced just so long as something is done promptly. He writes:

"Sirs, who can I call or write to ...to get an effective burro control program - NOW!"

The opposite end of the spectrum of public opinion is represented by a vocal group of citizens who want no control at all. They believe the burro population would become self regulating through the natural cycles of abundance and famine if let alone. BLM biologists agree that

such natural cycles do work after a fashion. But they point out that before a herd of animals can be reduced by starvation, they would do irreparable harm to the land and to the habitat that supports many other kinds of animal life. Since BLM is charged with managing the public land for the benefit of multiple resources and many users, the Bureau cannot afford for natural conditions to reduce the burro population.

The Adopt-a-Burro program offered a humane way of controlling the burro population, but BLM soon found that the program was easier to conceive than to execute. Rounding up burros proved time-consuming and expensive until the Federal Land Policy and Management Act gave the Bureau the authority to use helicopters in roundups.

Many were opposed to giving the Bureau the authority to use helicopters in wild horse and wild burro roundups. Aircraft and other motorized vehicles had played a prominent role in the capture and harassment of wild horses and burros in the days before the

animals were protected by law. Many felt that the authority requested by BLM would lead to new abuses. BLM's answer was that roundups conducted by mounted riders was harder on wild herds, an abuse of the rider's mount and a real danger to the rider himself. Furthermore, roundups of wild horses and burros by men on horseback was woefully short on results. The number of animals so captured simply could not keep pace with the growing herds of wild horses and burros. The Bureau was convinced that it could make the helicopter effective without undue harassment of animals.

Since the authority has been granted, herds of both horses and burros have been gathered in roundup pens with even less fuss and bother than would have been expected in rounding up domestic herds by the old methods.

In the hands of a skillful pilot, a gentle but constant pressure is kept on the herd, so that the animals keep moving but rarely at more than a walk. The helicopter has enabled the Bureau to make

definite inroads into the problem of overpopulation at a favorable cost-benefit ratio.

Many of the Bureau's old critics now agree. In July 1977 the Bureau's Phoenix District Office asked for public comment concerning plans to gather burros in the Alamo Lake region about 60 miles south of Kingman, Arizona. In a letter the Arizona Humane Society offered the following comment,

"... working with the Bureau of Land Management these many past months, studying and observing your methods, has led to our total endorsement of your procedures in handling animals."

Once the burros were in the holding pens, it became the Bureau's responsibility to find foster homes. The effort involved national publicity, the screening of applications and finally the nuts and bolts of getting the burro into the hands of its new keeper. But who would want a burro? In a nation attuned to thinking in terms of the more elegant horse, the burro may seem to many something in the nature of a country cousin, a backwoods hick with little to recommend it to a prospective keeper.

But with burros, like country cousins, appearances may be deceiving. Experts say the burro is smarter than the horse, and those who get to know one find that they become affectionate pets. Then, those who bother to take a second look often find something appealing about the long ears, sad eyes and disheveled coat of fur.

On June 16, 1977 Andrew G. Mosby Jr., a 16-year-old lowa farm boy adopted the first Arizona wild burro - a pregnant jennie. He also took a young jack for his younger sister. He reports that the jennie gave foal on June 27 and that the burros are adapting to their new home. The colt is already a pet.

Phoenix television crews learned that burros and children made a good public interest story, and a Walter Cronkite introduction to a story carried by the network was worth a thousand press releases.

Applications started to pour in. Some even came from Canada. Since the law requires the Federal Government to retain ownership of all animals placed in foster homes, those applications had to be turned down.

Many people traveled great distances to get their burros. Burros from the Phoenix District have now been placed in many states, and a large percentage of the owners traveled to Phoenix to pick up their animals.

One question in many minds was how a wild burro would behave under domestic conditions. Present experience seems to prove that they adapt to domestic status rather well. Most of those who have adopted burros have been enthusiastic with the results.

Mrs. Betty Pflug, who traveled from her home in Zelienople, Pennsylvania to get three burros for herself and to haul four more for other applicants, wrote,

"The jack has been the gentlest so far, "The children get on it, but we haven't had it out of the stall yet."

Kelli Hazlett, a 13-year-old Peoria, Arizona school girl, wanted a burro she could train to pull a cart. She must have had misgivings when she came to pick up her animal. Photographers wanted a picture of her and the burro together. BLM handlers put a halter on the burro so it could be posed.

The jennie protested this indignity by jumping out of the loading chute. But after a brisk tug of war with her handlers, she allowed herself to be backed into a fence and quieted down enough for Kelli to pet her and for the photographers to get their pictures.

"I haven't had a harness on her yet," Kelli later reported, "But I have ridden her four of five times."

"We get a lot of applications for jennies and young burros," Dean Durfee, a BLM employee in charge of the capture and adoption program for the Phoenix District, said recently, "but we don't know what is going to happen to the older jacks."

Durfee was especially concerned about one particular jack the BLM handlers had named "King Richard." King Richard was the first burro captured in the roundup and incidentally the oldest animal in the holding pen. Scarred from his years in the wild and wearing a perpetual look of irritation, this raunchy individual was anything but lovable. In the holding pen, King Richard lorded it over the other burros and was quick to punish any trespass on his royal prerogatives.

In light of his experience with most applicants, Durfee had grave doubts that he would be able to find a foster home for King Richard. Then a man from the "show me" State of Missouri came to pick out a dozen jennies and a jack. As he looked over the burros in the pen his eye fell on King Richard. The burro's uncom promising individuality struck a spark.

"That's the one I want," the Missourian said.

And that's the one he got. More than 600 burros have been rounded up from the public lands in the Phoenix District. The public's response to the appeal for foster homes has exceeded all expectations and all burros in captivity have been placed in foster homes as of January 23.

The story of wild burros in the Phoenix District has had a happy ending.