We dispatched some of the boys to the wagon for our heavy corral ropes
and a bundle of horse-hobbles; and the remainder of us, stripped to
the belt, waded out and surveyed the situation at close quarters. We
were all experienced in handling bogged cattle, though this quicksand
was the most deceptive that I, at least, had ever witnessed. The
bottom of the river as we waded through it was solid under our feet,
and as long as we kept moving it felt so, but the moment we stopped we
sank as in a quagmire. The "pull" of this quicksand was so strong that
four of us were unable to lift a steer's tail out, once it was
imbedded in the sand. And when we had released a tail by burrowing
around it to arm's length and freed it, it would sink of its own
weight in a minute's time until it would have to be burrowed out
again. To avoid this we had to coil up the tails and tie them with a
soft rope hobble.

Fortunately none of the cattle were over forty feet from the bank, and
when our heavy rope arrived we divided into two gangs and began the
work of rescue. We first took a heavy rope from the animal's horns to
solid footing on the river bank, and tied to this five or six of our
lariats. Meanwhile others rolled a steer over as far as possible and
began burrowing with their hands down alongside a fore and hind leg
simultaneously until they could pass a small rope around the pastern
above the cloof, or better yet through the cloven in the hoof, when
the leg could be readily lifted by two men. We could not stop
burrowing, however, for a moment, or the space would fill and
solidify. Once a leg was freed, we doubled it back short and securely
tied it with a hobble, and when the fore and hind leg were thus
secured, we turned the animal over on that side and released the other
legs in a similar manner. Then we hastened out of the water and into
our saddles, and wrapped the loose end of our ropes to the pommels,