Visions of dislocations, sprains, of incapacitation in this God-forsaken spot, flashed before my brain as I sank to my knees to learn the extent of the injury, the cattle for a moment forgotten. I unlaced the shoe, and after a careful examination was delighted to find that it was nothing worse than a sprain which would doubtless be well in a few days. “I’ll take the wheel and you sit down while I unpack the emergency kit and get out the bandages,” I remarked, rising to my feet. “I’ll just put on a——” The words froze on my lips. We stood in a ring of cattle less than two hundred feet in diameter. They stood shoulder to shoulder, heads down, noses to the ground, blowing, snorting, pawing, while here and there some young bull would advance a step with tossing head, then pause while the herd moved in to join him. Dan broke in on my immobility. “We can’t stop to bother with my ankle now,” he muttered. “We must make tracks out of here as fast as the Lord’ll let us.” He hobbled on a few steps, leaning on the tandem. At once the animals in the rear moved forward, while those in front set up a peculiar moaning bellow, which seemed to enrage the whole herd. The air vibrated with their bawling. To my affrighted eyes the whole plain seemed a solid mass of reddish backs and tossing heads. Fragments of what I had read and heard of western cattle came to my mind. They would attack a man on foot—a person on horseback was safe——. “Get into your saddle, quick,” I cried. “It’s our only chance.” I steadied the bicycle with a firm hand. “Just get on. I’ll start it.” Dan seated himself and grasped the handle bars, while with straining muscles I bent desperately to the task of getting the heavy load in motion. The tires seemed glued to the rough, uneven surface of the prairie, and when at last with sobbing breath I was able to leap into the front saddle, we were almost on the horns of a heavy animal that blocked the way. But to hesitate meant death, so with a blood curdling yell I headed full at his nose. He crowded aside, I swerved, and we passed between the rows of cattle with room so scant that we almost brushed the hairy flanks. I could hear the thunder of hoofs as the herd got into motion behind us. The protecting fence seemed very far away. Bushes slapped at us in passing. The difference between riding on even a poor road and pedalling over this unsurfaced plain, level as it was, became increasingly evident. And how to cross the fence to safety with a crippled man and a laden wheel, even though we survived that long, was a problem. The front wheel struck a sharp, projecting snag and air hissed from the flattening tire. An instant later the rear tire also gave way, but we pedalled desperately on, bumping along on the rims, which each moment threatened to let us down.