hors.

As darkness came on I coasted down a sharp pitch to a little brook. In
the aspens that bordered the road was a range cow standing guard beside
a newborn calf. Across the road, like grisly shadows among the trees,
skulked several coyotes. The calf half rose, wabbled, and went down.
Three times it attempted to rise, grew weaker, and at last gave up the
struggle. With the waiting coyotes in mind, I leaned my wheel against
a bowlder and went to its rescue. Several things happened at once.
The half-wild range cow misunderstood my good intentions. She was
accustomed to seeing men on horseback; and one afoot was strange. She
charged headlong. I dodged quickly aside but not in time to escape
entirely. She raked me with her sharp horns. There was a wild race
through the aspens; I leading, but the cow a close second, her horns
menacing me at every leap, while I doubled and backtracked sharply
about among the trees. I had no chance to "tree"; though no mountain
lion was ever more willing, for Mrs. Cow was too near. Only Providence
and my agility saved me from an untimely end. At last the cow halted,
for she was getting too far from her calf. She shook her horns after
me menacingly, turned and hurried back toward where her offspring lay.

Each mile I covered impressed upon me more and more that there is not
even a distant relationship between mountain miles and my Kansas
prairie miles. The latter are ironed out flat, the former stand on
end, cease to be miles and become trials. Slowly the shadows filled
the canyons, and came creeping up the slopes. I gazed in awesome wonder
at the beauty of my land of dreams. My legs, cramped almost past
pedaling, still kept on--for my goal, my mountains, were at hand.
Exaltation of spirit overcame exhaustion of body.

At no time had I given any particular thought to what would happen when
I arrived; so far my whole attention had been centered on reaching the
Rockies. Such trivialities as no job, no relatives, practically no
money, made little impression upon my Rocky-bound mind.

Long after nightfall I reached the crest of Park Hill, the last barrier
to Estes Park. The moon shone full upon the valley below, and upon the
snow-capped mountains beyond. The river murmured softly as its shining
folds curled back and forth across the dark green meadow, suddenly
vanishing between dark canyon walls. Coyotes raised their eerie voices;
across the canyon, from the cliffs of Mo