Pulp Fiction, 1922 · page 183 of 196
Adventure Magazine Cover — page 183: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1922. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The Camp-Fire er 18r the important one in these things, as in gambling or many games in which luck _ figures largely. . Perhaps anything hidden in the earth has its lure. I’m just~perhapsing, of course. The original question, as propounded by Edgar Young, was “What is adventure, biologically speaking?” I dog’t know. : Berkeley, California. Dear Camp-Fire: I’m wandering in from the far flickers of the fire. Not that I’ve been out of the U.S. A. but I’ve never felt my presence was needed in the active circle. Beg pardon, once I did write some hobo verses for Adventure, but the editor thought they were good and let them hobo back to me. But now Gordon MacCreagh has started an argument on a subject over which I’ve done some thinking myself. And I’m inclined to agree with Mac. (E been able to caminar over considerable coun- ~-y here in the Golden State, and I’ve lived out- rs considerable. But. when I had a chance to 4b a ranger’s job I thought adventure was sure cing my way. I’d read a lot, and heard a lot st.and second hand about the life of the ranger, | ad I promptly grabbed the job. Result—I had a ood time, plenty of movement, but nary adventure. I shot a mountain lion, fell into an ice-cold creek, was accidentally shot at by a fool hunter—who by the way was wearing one of those red shirts they sell, so I couldn’t get even with him—but nary adventure. When I returned to this city, the site of the University of California, and why I men- tioned that I don’t know—I was never in it, but once, everybody asked me to tell my experiences. I did. “My what a lot of adventures you had!” says a sweet young thing to my right. Nope, not any. __ It just happened that the things which I ran across _ didn’t thrill me. Yet I appointed myself to investi- gate “‘vice in the big city” of Frisco, and got a real thrill out of being pinched for a bootlegger. That was an adventure, and yet I’ll wager there are hun- dreds of men in this country to whom it is a worn out experience, devoid of thrills and not even in- teresting from the standpoint of the fines. YEP, old lady Adventure is simply a matter of the thrill, and different things thrill different people. Of course I’ll admit that I get an awful cheer while reading the tales of Tuttle, the hazards . of Everhard and all the rest of them, BUT, if all ‘ those things really did happen to the originals, they e probably just wrinkled their noses and cussed at the luck of it, as Mac has said. Finally, your adventures come when you get out of your own element and into the other fellow’s. Can you image Mac getting all worked up over shooting a deer? But I bet he’d have @ real adven- ture if some accurate parlor hunter were to bag him at a swell social hunt. Of course he may be experi- enced in that line too, but I don’t think his vocabu- lard extends that far, judging from his six pages, single spaced. VERY Summer I cut, loose from bread and ‘ butter, wife, pavement and colored shirts, and get out on the highways, byways and sidedoor ~~ conveyances. I meet all the brethren of the road, ‘ Jearned the width of my own, and i oe vee « some expert financiers whose methods aren’t as well protected as thosevof their city office brethren, and the whole outfit of regular fellows. In a word, fF am seeking Adventure. So far, the only place I’ve found it is in the news-stands and in the abandoned camps of the followers of the Camp- Fire. It’s always bound, and down in black and - white. And I’m not hard boiled either. My nerves -aren’t iron, or any of those things. I’ve never been outside the U.S. A., except to Canada for a drink and Mexico to watch a bull-fight. Usually I’m a newspaper reporter. No, sit down. There’s no adventure in that either. But it’s interesting to © study people. I get all excited over tales of “‘some- where else” and I’d like to cut loose and start on the “Road to Anywhere.” Well, I’ve written a lot and said little. Anyway ~_ I agree with Mac. Yours in search of Adventure.— RANNY VAN NOSTRAND. ae, AS IS to be inferred from his letter, it is - only the past few years that comrade Strachan has been giving particular atten- tion to the man-sized job of fulfilling the full duties of citizenship that most of us do not fulfill. Atlanta, Georgia. We stay-at-homes must stifle our desires to a great extent and keep a-plugging away. Fact is I’ve sorter revised my ideas of what constitu bravery and, without a trace of ego, can say I believe the guy who tries to fulfill the duties of citizenship comes nearer the ideal than the swash- buckling hero. Quick action invigorates, while the dull and deadly grind wears away the nerves and after awhile uncovers the yellow streak. (I only trying +to hide it, for the past few years.)— P. A. STRACHAN. IS claim to being a real puncher looks -4 perfectly good: Klamath Falls, Oregon. Never having dropped in on your little hang-out before I will be a little easy in addressing you, so will say Hello, Long Horns, ‘and hope no feel- ings hurt. . Seems like introductions are a little in order, so will "say as to me myself was something like two years old when I took my first horseback ride. It was in a pack-saddle bag (alfarjas) on an old gray pack horse, me on one side, grub on the other. Mother and father on horseback leading the pack horses. At all stops I mounted the top and went on a rampage for eats. That being in ’81 and having grown up on the range among the bunch grass and father’s cattle and horses, feel that I can lay claim to being an old puncher. ; Being as I thought I really had something to say when I started this scratchingywill say it. * In Jan. 30th issue of Adventure, Brother J. J. Colman inquires about Tracy the outlaw. Tracy was no myth by any means, as a list of his killings and tricks will show, which I will send to Camp- Fire in the near future OLD PUNEHER, : ine Sar SA - ‘ va 3 ~~ of ay vt c? bya; a? » ast TER en. ee a Wy 1 een eit) i ‘ ft . AM pera: 4 . NA 4 Py fee ee Ge SS ae A, a Y UR Genes have been comicbook ' Vou eS - am Vy Hoh iay | a Wa ‘; ted tone ke r L th Aes Ta PY mi le et ge Ve 5