grow thickly, and afford shelter to thousands of pelicans, that here
make their homes far from the disturbing presence of man. All unconscious
of impending difficulties, I follow the wagon trail leading through this
valley until I find myself standing on the edge of the river, ruefully
looking around for some avenue by which I can proceed on my way. I am
in the bend of a horseshoe curve, and the only way to get out is to
retrace my footsteps for several miles, which disagreeable performance
I naturally feel somewhat opposed to doing. Casting about me I discover
a couple of old fence-posts that have floated down from the Be-o-wa-we
settlement above and lodged against the bank. I determine to try and
utilize them in getting the machine across the river, which is not over
thirty yards wide at this point. Swimming across with my clothes first,
I tie the bicycle to the fence-posts, which barely keep it from sinking,
and manage to navigate it successfully across. The village of Be-o-wa-we
is full of cowboys, who are preparing for the annual spring round-up.
Whites, Indians, and Mexicans compose the motley crowd. They look a
wild lot, with their bear-skin chaparejos and semi-civilized trappings,
galloping to and fro in and about the village. "I can't spare the time,
or I would," is my slightly un-truthful answer to an invitation to stop
over for the day and have some fun. Briefly told, this latter, with the
cowboy, consists in getting hilariously drunk, and then turning his "pop"
loose at anything that happens to strike his whiskey-bedevilled fancy
as presenting a fitting target. Now a bicycle, above all things, would
intrude itself upon the notice of a cowboy on a " tear" as a peculiar
and conspicuous object, especially if it had a man on it; so after taking
a "smile" with them for good-fellowship, and showing them the modus
operandi of riding the wheel, I consider it wise to push on up the valley.

Three miles from Be-o-wa-we is seen the celebrated "Maiden's Grave," on
a low hill or bluff by the road-side; and "thereby hangs a tale." In