 |
|
|
|
Snowmen
The Snowmen headed north toward the unknown. The map in Tex's hand said that a frozen lake lay a mile ahead, but he proceeded cautiously, keeping his eyes peeled for Indians, bad men and wild steers. Behind him, and stepping exactly in his footprints to make the going easier, came Otter. He too was enjoying the hike, but for him the landscape held even greater dangers. This wasn't a state park they were walking through. No, this was the ice planet Hoth, and strange beasts and storm troopers threatened on all sides. Off to the left and right, dressed in camouflage suits, were Straight Arrow and Lobo. Straight Arrow was, with great care, stalking a trophy buck. Lobo was on a desperate military mission and, incidentally, believed that there was a spy among the other members of the patrol. The rest of the old Scouts trailed along behind. Each dreaming his own dreams and having his own snowy adventure as they enjoyed the cold winter morning. As the Snowmen passed the cabin, a younger Scout paused in the unwrapping of a Fruit Rollup and looked out the window. Turning to me, he said, "Those guys didn't take enough food. They will be starving when they come back at lunch time!" I raised my eyebrows and smiled at this Pee Wee of a Boy Scout. New Scouts on their first campout react in different ways to the challenge. Most are quiet and very observant of the actions of the experienced guys. Some act much younger than their actual ages and hope to be cared for by the adults. Still others react by clowning at every turn, feeling that laughter will cover their mistakes and make them popular. Once in a while, though, you get a different kind of beginner --- the Pee Wee Harris type. Pee Wee Harris is likely dead now, but since the 1920's stories of his adventures have inspired, awed and made Scouts everywhere laugh. Pee Wee always has a plan, but only sometimes is it a good one. Pee Wee is always prepared, but sometimes his preparations go terribly wrong. Pee Wee likes to eat --- and eat and eat. I have read about Pee Wee all my life, but never hoped to meet him. Yet here, standing beside me was a 11 year old kid on his first campout who proposed to take over the troop with his stories, suggestions, complaints and plans for how we should spend our time. Here was a young Pee Wee Harris, come to show the Boy Scouts how it should be done! For this, our second winter campout, the troop had been split. Older and more experienced Scouts, and Steve Shreffler, our Assistant Scoutmaster, were sleeping outside in tents in the 20-degree weather. The young, the sick and those, like me, who had a big aversion to cold feet, slept inside a hunting cabin. As the older Scouts trailed off for their hike, I proposed to the youngsters that we give them a 20-minute head start and then follow their trail to see what we could see. Pee Wee thought this a very bad idea, since he was not at all interested in leaving the food supply unguarded against bears, and he had also somehow misplaced his coat, his gloves and his boots. I overrode his objections and sent him off to find his stuff. He quickly found the missing boots and coat and stuffed his pockets with a vast array of snacks to get him through the hike. That left only the gloves. He first questioned all the other Scouts and asked that they delay their own preparations until his gloves were found. Then he borrowed a flashlight, his having been mislaid, and proceeded to look in every dark nook and cranny in the cabin. I found him 20 minutes later, flashlight in hand, peering down the hole in the outhouse. I dread to think what might have happened had he found his gloves at the bottom of THAT hole. We finally found the gloves on a nearby snow bank, next to a massive fallen oak that Pee Wee had earlier begun to saw in half for firewood. Soon after that, our procession was under way and making good time, following the trail broken by the older Scouts. This led though a mixed hardwood forest and then onto frozen swampy ground covered with Mountain Laurel and cut by small steams. Pee Wee constantly wanted to leave the trail and make shortcuts of his own devising --- regardless of the fact that he didn't have a map, didn't have a compass, and didn't have a clue as to where the older Scouts were headed. Still, I hung back and let him make his own mistakes. Thirty minutes later, we joined up with Tex and the Snowmen and spent an enjoyable morning poking about in the woods. We slid on icy bits of the park road and tossed a few snowballs. We watched for Lobo as he attempted to stalk the troop without being seen, and then set a trap and tricked him into it. Finally, we followed a blood trail and examined some mysterious tracks that were associated with it. As Tex patiently explained why these were probably dog tracks, Pee Wee stoutly maintained that they looked more like the marks of a deer or a raccoon to him. I trailed along just behind them, making snake tracks with a stick dragged through the snow. Listening to their somewhat amazing conversation, it struck me that two of the reasons that I like being a Scoutmaster are the boyish characters and personal growth that it lets me witness. It should be real interesting to see how Pee Wee handles camping in a tent, and I wonder if Tex and the older guys can make a real Scout of him. |
   |
||
|
|
|
 |
|
During
the long night, the snow squalls had died away and the sky had
turned starry. When the sun rose, it cast wondrous, long shadows of
barren trees across the snowy high forest wasteland. The morning was
perfectly still, and it was only the change in light that caused Tex
to wake up. He gave his buddies a nudge and then crawled out of his
sleeping bag and into the cold, cold world of the high camp. The
ground was covered with a half foot of powder capped with an inch of
crusty ice. Tex made his crunchy way to each of the other three
tents to wake up his men, and then he began to think of the
adventure that lay on the other side of breakfast.