Captain’s Logos

"There it is again", the slightly chubby boy scout said to his leader.



The wind was picking up now, channeling it's force through the small path etched into the forest. The trail, cold and white with snow, merely hinted at it's true direction and the group of weary travelers had more than once re-traced their steps after false turns. This year's early snow lay cluttered with brown and yellow leaves that had waited too long to call it a winter and fall from their perch. They were not the only ones, it seemed, the October snow had caught off guard.



"Listen. Dc you hear it? I think it came from behind us" said the large, rosy-cheeked boy. The scout leader, a pale-faced freckled boy, just turned eighteen, found it hard to believe the boy could hear anything aside from his huffing and puffing. He'd been at it all week, complaining that it was too cold, asking for more food than he was rationed, he really did not belong on this hike at all.



"It's the wind through the trees," he said, trying his best not to let the exasperation in his voice show. "Try to keep up with the group."



Of course he was trying to keep up. But it's hard to walk when your feet are blocks of ice and you haven't had a decent meal in three days. This was supposed to be a novice level hike, and when his scout group had planned it, he had been excited to go. And then, the very first night camping, the wind tore his tent up from its ties and brought along with it six inches of snow and the October from hell. He had wanted to go back after that night, but the group leader simply laughed and said that you couldn't let a little weather keep you down. After all, that was the point of the trip, to brave nature.



Well brave or not, he didn't have much of a choice at this point.



The leader, although he didn't want to admit it, wasn't feeling too much better about the ordeal than his portly charge. Looking after six runts for four days, in the freezing cold, having to wake up in the middle of the night, every night, because one of the little bastards was having a nightmare again, how he had gotten duped into this he could no longer remember. Something to do with looking good on a college application and ROTC scholarships. At this point, he didn't even care about college, all he wanted was a hot shower and a cigarette.

Now they were heading back, after three of the more unpleasant days most of the kids, leader included, could recall.

"There it is again!" said the boy.

"Now listen here. If you would spend a little more time walking and a little less time imagining sounds you'd make it a whole lot easier for all of us."

The freckled leader sighed and trudged on, pushing a fallen branch clear of the path, and quietly calculated how long they would have to march in the dark if they wanted to make it home without camping another night.