We had reached a country of great level stretches, with grazing cattle and raw looking farms, of infrequent water and distant ranges of bare, blue mountains. Following a barbed wire fence, our road turned at right angles to the north, whereas the way should have been open straight into the west where a more fertile region was blazoned forth in masses of green and long strips of yellow. We stopped at a rude cabin which crouched, mouse-like, at the turn in the road, to fill the canteen. A woman, withered and sunbrowned and worn by pathetically futile efforts to maintain a home in an unfriendly land, answered my knock. She informed us that the fenced range that blocked our path was part of a great holding to the south, which projected a long tentacle to enfold a source of life-giving water far to the north. Thus, we needs must make a great detour to reach the point to the west of us where the highway again took up its march toward the setting sun. This strip, it appeared, was but a scant three miles in width, and we were at once filled with the idea of walking across instead of riding so far around. After some manœuvring, we succeeded in crowding the wheel beneath the barbed strands and set off across the prairie, which was almost as hard and bare as the county road. We had not gone far when a group of cattle caught sight of us and moved up to inspect the strange intruders. These were followed by others, which seemed a signal to hundreds. Soon a dense mass was tagging at our heels and spreading out to right and left, while in the distance still more could be seen lumbering up to join the herd. A peculiar prickling sensation began to manifest itself in the region of my scalp. “Dear me, I do wish your sweater was blue instead of red,” I observed nervously to Dan. “I believe it is making these cattle angry. Do you suppose they really would attack us?” “No, of course not. They are perfectly harmless. They don’t know what to make of us, that’s all, and their curiosity urges them up to take a good look.” “Nevertheless, I noticed that he was quickening his pace. As for myself, I scanned the distance to the boundary fence with anxious eyes. The cattle, which at first had maintained a respectful distance, now began to crowd closer. “Please, Dan,” I urged, “take off that sweater and hide it till we get out of this pasture. I don’t like the sight of so many cows a little bit.” “Rats, Ethel, don’t be a coward. Who’s afraid of a few cows?” He turned to wave his hat at the advancing animals, stepped into a prairie dog burrow and came heavily to the ground. As he regained his feet, his features twisted in pain and he caught at the handle bars. “Gee whiz,” he grunted, “I gave my ankle a beastly wrench. It hurts like the devil.”