And this is why it lies somewhat indefinite under the blue haze of the years, all the more alluring for its lack of definition, like some old mountain range, the softer and more beautiful for its own shadows.
The fascination of the frontier is and has ever been an undying thing.
Adventure is the meat of the strong men who have built the world for those more timid.

Adventure and the frontier are one and inseparable.
They suggest strength, courage, hardihood--qualities beloved in men since the world began--qualities which are the very soul of the United States, itself an experiment, an adventure, a risk accepted.

Take away all our history of political regimes, the story of the rise and fall of this or that partisan aggregation in our government; take away our somewhat inglorious military past; but leave us forever the tradition of the American frontier! There lies our comfort and our pride.

There we never have failed.

There, indeed, we always realized our ambitions.
There, indeed, we were efficient, before that hateful phrase was known.
There we were a melting-pot for character, before we came to know that odious appellation which classifies us as the melting-pot of the nations.
The frontier was the place and the time of the strong man, of the self-sufficient but restless individual.