CHAPTER X.
AROUND THE MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRE.
Nowhere on earth, I think, does one so relish food and drink as around the camp-fire. On the treeless plains of the West and Southwest, in the rugged, Indian-haunted mountains of Western Texas and Central Arizona, even on the bare, hot sands of the deserts of Nevada and Southern California, there is always a weird attraction, and a sense of hearty enjoyment in the evening around the camp-fire. Some of the happiest hours of my life, many of them, I may say, have been spent around the camp-fire, and ever and anon the old longing for wild life and dangerous adventure comes over me even in the busiest hours of city life, and the desire to shake civilization and all its comforts and refinements, and go back to the wilderness, becomes almost uncontrolable. The charm of danger is year by year being lost to camp life in California, but exciting adventure may still be found, and there is nothing equal to a glowing camp-fire to bring out anecdotes of the past and re-awaken
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