Were a man to go suddenly flapping his way through the streets of London
on the long-anticipated flying-machine, the average Cockney would scarce
betray the unfeigned astonishment that is depicted on the countenances
of these Croatian villagers as we nde into their midst and dismount.

This afternoon my bicycle causes the first runaway since the trifling
affair at Lembach, Austria. A brown-faced peasant woman and a little
girl, driving a small, shaggy pony harnessed to a basket-work, four-wheeled
vehicle, are approaching; their humble-looking steed betrays no evidence
of restiveness until just as I am turning out to pass him, when, without
warning, he gives a swift, sudden bound to the right, nearly upsetting
the vehicle, and without more ado bolts down a considerable embankment
and goes helter-skelter across a field of standing grain. The old lady
pluckily hangs on to the reins, and finally succeeds in bringing the
runaway around into the road again without damaging anything save the
corn. It might have ended much less satisfactorily, however, and the
incident illustrates one possible source of trouble to a 'cycler travelling
alone through countries where the people neither understand, nor can be
expected to understand, a wheelman's position; the situation would, of
course, be aggravated in a country village where, not speaking the
language, one could not make himself understood in his own defence. These
people here, if not wise as serpents, are at least harmless as doves;
but, in case of the bicycle frightening a team and causing a runaway
with the unpleasant sequel of broken limbs, or injured horse, they would
scarce know what to do in the premises, since they would have no precedent
to govern them, and, in the absence of any intelligent guidance, might
conclude to wreak summary vengeance on the bicycle. In such a case, would
a wheelman be justified in using his revolver to defend his bicycle ?