The hub of the vaquero's life in the chaparral is his campo. It is here that he takes his meals from battered tin plates; here that he makes his bed. It is here that he catches his horses from the remuda to begin his day's work; here, too, that he will stand or sit before the campfire as the world grows dark to smoke and sing and talk of good and bad horses with compadres who know, as he knows, what this life is like. Whatever its site, el campo is the place as close to a home as the vaquero is likely to find in the chaparral.

The morale of el campo is dependent on el cocinero del campo—the cook. Traditionally as salty as the tasajo—jerky—he hangs out to dry in the sun, the cocinero must be both versatile and durable, for his duties include everything from preparing three hot meals each day in as many different campsites, each often miles apart, to repairing wagons and men.

El campo moves almost daily, following the cow work, by means of el carro del campo—the chuckwagon. This movable commissary carries the vaqueros' bedrolls, food, water, and extra gear, as well as the cocinero's tools and cooking utensils. The chuckwagon is not a Mexican invention; rather, it evolved during the early days of the big Texas roundups. Charles Goodnight was credited with giving the chuckwagon its greatest refinement: the chuckbox. Within a short time after Goodnight introduced it, this durable cupboard with its drop-down worktable became standard equipment on the grub wagons of all the big cow outfits, from Montana to Mexico. In matters pertaining to cow work, inventions have moved south as well as north across the Río Bravo, with little regard to national origin.