THE NAVAJO ULTRA RUNNER AND THE IRREPRESSIBLE BORDER COLLIE PUP WHO SAVED HIM

LAST DECEMBER, ELI NEZTSOSIE FOUND HIMSELF 70 MILES FROM THE NEAREST TOWN, 40 MILES FROM THE CLOSEST GAS STATION, AND THREE MILES FROM HIS HORSE, WHEN DARKNESS FELL OVER THE ARIZONA DESERT.

- JARED BEASLEY

The rancher and his dog, Tractor, had been pushing 25 head of cattle down to the low country for the winter. But the trail had grown too narrow, too rugged. Even Eli’s sure-footed horse, Two Socks, could break an ankle, or worse, trip and send them both off a cliff. So Eli had dismounted, turned on his cellphone light, and called out for Tractor to push—guide the cattle—the last few miles.

Now at the bottom of the canyon, with the herd in and the gate closed, he cursed himself for getting greedy. What usually took two people and two days, he’d tried to do alone and in one. He’d always prided himself on doing things alone, but this was too much. The sun had disappeared faster than he’d expected, and now the chill was creeping into his bones. He checked his cell battery: 3 percent.

Under the moonless sky, Eli the rancher became Eli the trail runner as he burned it back toward Two Socks. His cowboy boots shifted and turned on stones and brushy plants, his Wranglers holding back his stride like a rubber band. But within a mile, his phone was dead, and the dark crept right up to his eyeballs.

In the high desert, bad things come out at night. If it doesn’t stick, sting, or bite, it isn’t alive. Then there’s the canyon itself: A hundred-foot drop is always lurking, without a soul for miles to hear or help.

Again, Eli turned to Tractor. As Eli’s run slowed to a hike in the darkness, the border collie instinctively jogged ahead, methodically picking his way back up the trail, always sure to keep Eli close. He sees what Eli doesn’t, smells what he can’t. In streaks and jumps, Eli’s eyes strained to stay with the white spot on the back of the dog’s neck. When he lost the spot, Eli followed the sound of the Tractor’s breathing. And in less than half an hour, they were back at Two Socks, who could deliver them home by memory.