Books with title Cabin Fever

Greg Heffley is in big trouble. School property has been damaged, and Greg is the prime suspect. But the crazy thing is, he’s innocent. Or at least sort of. The authorities are closing in, but when a surprise blizzard hits, the Heffley family is trapped indoors. Greg knows that when the snow melts he’s going to have to face the music, but could any punishment be worse than being stuck inside with your family for the holidays?

Greg Heffley is in big trouble. School property has been damaged, and Greg is the prime suspect. But the crazy thing is, he’s innocent. Or at least sort of. The authorities are closing in, but when a surprise blizzard hits, the Heffley family is trapped indoors. Greg knows that when the snow melts he’s going to have to face the music, but could any punishment be worse than being stuck inside with your family for the holidays?

A classic tale of the Old West by B.M. Bower. This one is one of her earliest (1918). This was an interesting story about a man who quarrels with his young wife and goes out into the world to try to forget her. "Cabin Fever" gets Bud Moore into a peck of trouble now and then. Bud is a bit too trustful of strangers and before he knows it, he has injected himself into a situation that could prove to be disastrous. Bud then heads for the hills and meets up with another stranger. Then, one day, Bud finds a child who has been stolen by an Indian squaw and takes him in. How will the child's presence change the two hardened men? The surprise ending is a nice touch, by the author.

the mind fed too long upon monotony succumbs to the insidious mental ailment which the West calls 'cabin fever.' ... Bud Moore, ex-cow-puncher and now owner of an auto stage that did not run in the winter, was touched with cabin fever and did not know what ailed him. His stage line ran from San Jose, California, up through Los Gatos and over the Bear Creek road across the summit of the Santa Cruz Mountains and down to the State Park, which is locally called Big Basin, the first state park of California. For something over fifty miles of wonderful scenic travel he charged six dollars, and usually his big car was loaded to the running boards. Bud was a good driver, and he had a friendly pair of eyes--dark blue and with a humorous little twinkle deep down in them somewhere--and a human little smiley quirk at the corners of his lips. He did not know it, but these things helped to fill his car. ..."If you would test the soul of a friend, take him into the wilderness and rub elbows with him for five months! One of three things will surely happen: You will hate each other afterward with that enlightened hatred which is seasoned with contempt; you will emerge with the contempt tinged with a pitying toleration, or you will be close, unquestioning friends to the last six feet of earth--and beyond. All these things will cabin fever do, and more. It has committed murder, many's the time. It has driven men crazy. It has warped and distorted character out of all semblance to its former self. It has sweetened love and killed love. There is an antidote--but I am going to let you find the antidote somewhere in the story."

Some romance, a lot of life changes, a baby, prospecting, desert rats, a driving man wins a race after getting duped, good friends, mother in law tongue, surprise ending in Alpine, a good dose of growing up and a crash where east meets west in a strong moral woman and a demon rum man..mayhem, heartache, crimes against each other and the law, awakening, indifference, hate, redemption and retribution upon that lone prairie. A good read told in the old style writing, as only Brand can lasso it.

The prolific author Bertha Muzzy Bower lived on a number of Western ranches and farms in her day and was intimately acquainted with the creeping solitude that can surround those who spend time alone on the range. In Cabin Fever, Bower weaves a subtle psychological thriller into the familiar Western landscape that serves as the setting for her most acclaimed works.

"... the mind fed too long upon monotony succumbs to the insidious mental ailment which the West calls 'cabin fever.' ... Bud Moore, ex-cow-puncher and now owner of an auto stage that did not run in the winter, was touched with cabin fever and did not know what ailed him. His stage line ran from San Jose, California, up through Los Gatos and over the Bear Creek road across the summit of the Santa Cruz Mountains and down to the State Park, which is locally called Big Basin, the first state park of California. For something over fifty miles of wonderful scenic travel he charged six dollars, and usually his big car was loaded to the running boards. Bud was a good driver, and he had a friendly pair of eyes--dark blue and with a humorous little twinkle deep down in them somewhere--and a human little smiley quirk at the corners of his lips. He did not know it, but these things helped to fill his car. ..."If you would test the soul of a friend, take him into the wilderness and rub elbows with him for five months! One of three things will surely happen: You will hate each other afterward with that enlightened hatred which is seasoned with contempt; you will emerge with the contempt tinged with a pitying toleration, or you will be close, unquestioning friends to the last six feet of earth--and beyond. All these things will cabin fever do, and more. It has committed murder, many's the time. It has driven men crazy. It has warped and distorted character out of all semblance to its former self. It has sweetened love and killed love. There is an antidote--but I am going to let you find the antidote somewhere in the story.