An Autumn Camp
Part 3

by RichardUK

Over supper Mike outlined his proposals for the following afternoon.  In truth, much had been worked out beforehand so there was precious little to discuss, but it was all new to me since I hadn't been involved in the earlier planning.  The group had decided it should be a game of "smugglers".  A small band (four boys) would be given the objective of reaching the camp carrying "contraband" from a point some distance away.  Mike made it clear that the starting point would be revealed on our short hike, so it was obviously beyond the confines of the woods (our normal area).  This introduced an element of excitement since there would be new territory to cover.  The remaining eight boys would endeavour to capture the smugglers by fair means (or foul) and naturally they themselves would be liable to be taken prisoner if the opportunity presented itself.

Mike announced that he had a scheme for determining the winners, but despite persistent questioning he refused to reveal it until the morning.  While "victory" was often illusory, never the less it was important since, under our usual rules of engagement, prisoners from the losing side were required to remain as such after the end of the game (usually until supper).  He then dropped his bombshell by stating that after much thought they had decided that the four eldest boys should be the smugglers.  As he said this, I saw his glance fall on me and I knew at once that they were trying to keep me out of any difficult situation if at all possible.

I immediately reacted angrily:  "No way, Mike!  You lot wouldn't stand a chance, trampling round the bush like a herd of Elephants!  You know very well we –taking in Stuart and James with a sweeping gesture– are much better at evasive tactics than you are."  The truth of my statement was undeniable (we had something of a reputation within the troop) but it clearly left Mike, Roger and Peter in something of a quandary.

"Look, I know you mean well but I'll take whatever is coming to me," I added.  "My big brother isn't here and I don't need you to look after me, but in any case it is you who should be worried!"  The three boys looked ruefully at me and suddenly capitulated.

 "OK, we give in but who else would be mad enough to join your motley band?"  This was a good question but I didn't have to answer it. 

Paul stood up immediately and said, "I will!"  James and Stuart shot him a glance, which clearly said you must be a brick short of a load, but without more ado, the matter was settled.  We cleared away the remains of our meal, washed up and prepared for bed.

Under canvas at last, Stuart turned on Paul and said, "Are you crazy?  James and I weren't given the opportunity to back out, and you go and volunteer!  Not only is your brother lusting for your blood but Richard seems to have a death wish.  You know very well that simply BEING with the three of us spells trouble!" 

But Paul wasn't to be put down and responded, "But you guys always seem to have fun and I am fed up with being 'guarded' by Matthew!" 

It was James's turn to become involved:  "Good heavens, so you thought we were having fun, spending most of our time staked out at the summer camp, without mentioning other things that happened!  You really are mad!"  Despite his serious tone I couldn't help catching the look in his eye in the lamplight.  I could keep a straight face no longer and simply exploded in giggles.  Stuart immediately jumped on me, pinning me down and I thought I was about to be bound once more but he reconsidered, and as I subsided he disappeared with James to wash under the nearby stand pipe. 

"Well, it does look as if you have got yourself into a lot of trouble Paul," I said, only half jokingly, "but who knows - we proved at the end of the summer that it isn't necessarily the strongest team physically who triumph."  We gathered our things and followed our mates out to wash.

The nights were much colder now but we all changed into shorts and tee shirts.  I was the proud possessor of a brand new sleeping bag and I didn't anticipate being cold.  In choosing it I had also taken the precaution of ensuring it had a zipped opening - the three of us had been abducted during a previous camp by our mortal enemies and I had been trapped in my bag, unable to fight back because of the lack of an opening.  We snuggled down, listening to the wind in the trees and laughing and talking about the day's events and what was to follow before we each drifted off into a dreamless sleep...

It was broad daylight when I awoke with that delightful, dozy feeling that one has when one can please oneself if one gets up or not.  Paul was lying next to me.  He appeared to be on his stomach and was still fast asleep.  I must have laid there for several minutes, snug and cosy in my own bag before it dawned on me the other boy's hands, laying outside his covers were tied securely behind his back.  Paul was blissfully unaware of his predicament, sleeping peacefully and I could just make out the tousled, fair mop that was all that was visible of Stuart.

I wondered if James was awake and turned over to check (he was lying on my other side).  At least, I attempted to turn.  I was still inside my sleeping bag and unable to move.  In a moment I was fully conscious and at the same time I realised that my hands, like Paul's, were pinioned behind me.  Furthermore it dawned on me my ankles were tied as well.  With a great effort I managed to roll right over in my bag and was confronted by James with a grin on his face which seemed to stretch from ear to ear.

"Hi, Richard," he chortled.  "Sleep well, did you?"  He could see me struggling although I was enveloped in the folds of the sleeping bag, but I had little doubt he knew all about my circumstances and how they arose. 

I managed to sit up at last, with difficulty, and said, "Come on James, this isn't funny.  Untie me at once!"  I doubt if my voice carried much conviction or sincerity, but in any case I wasn't being let off that easily.

Our brief conversation had woken Stuart who sat up with a grin the equal of my other comrade. 

"Oh dear, our prisoner isn't giving problems, is he?" he asked James.  "Not really," came the reply. "I have a feeling he isn't capable of making much trouble".  With that he unzipped my bag enabling me to shake myself free from the cloth and at the same time revealing my bound hands.  Both boys made facetious comments about the undesirability of going to bed with one's hands tied.  It was obvious I was going to get no sense out of this pair and I collapsed back on my bed in sheer frustration.

Suddenly, Stuart realised Paul was still sleeping like a baby despite the noise and he proposed we (in retrospect, I don't think I was included in the 'we') should wake him.  Before he could act on his idea, however, Mike and Matthew bounded into our tent.  They burst out laughing when they saw me lying with my hands tied and then looked at Paul. 

"I told you he can sleep through anything!" said his brother.  "Let’s give him a pleasant surprise and wake him up gently."  With that, he crawled alongside the sleeping boy and began roughly shaking his shoulder.

"Come on, get up Paul or you'll miss breakfast," he yelled as the younger boy finally gave a yawn and opened his eyes sleepily.  He muttered about the time and began to curl up again, still blissfully unaware of his bonds, but that wasn't on our visitors' agenda.  They continued to yell at him until at last he opened his eyes properly and tried to sit up.  However, like me earlier, he was still not sufficiently aware of his surroundings and it was several moments before he took in the fact that his hands were tied behind his back.  The realisation was electric.  Suddenly, he was fully awake.  He struggled into a sitting position and demanded to know who had done this to him.  The other four buffoons just sat there and laughed like the dogs they were.

At last, Matthew spoke.  "Everyone knew about it.  We planned it yesterday evening!"  Paul glared at me and snarled that at least he had thought he could trust me! 

"Oh, when I said everyone I should have said 'all but Richard'. Take a look behind him."  James thoughtfully put his hand on the back of my head and pushed me forward enabling Paul to see, for the first time, the cord securing my own hands.  He gasped and looked apologetic.

"Actually, Richard fared worse than you because his ankles are tied and yours aren't," Matthew went on (my feet were still hidden in the end of my sleeping bag).  "Would you like to hear how we accomplished this excellent feat?" he quipped.  It was quite clear that neither of us were going to be liberated any time soon and despite our bonds our curiosity got the better of us - we nodded our assent simultaneously.

Matthew began by telling Paul it was partly his own fault - that obviously nothing of the kind could possibly have happened to him if he hadn't been so head strong over his brother's attitude.  Paul opened his mouth to reply but then thought better of it.  I was inclined to point out that I didn't see why that should involve my being tied up too, but decided to hold my peace as well.  My own tent mates could vouch for my being a sound sleeper (this was the second time they had tied my hands while I slept) and Matthew told everyone that Paul would sleep through a full scale war without waking.  By arranging to share a tent, we had prepared a trap for ourselves.

James and Stuart had deliberately remained awake as their victims dropped off and when they were sure we were well asleep, they had alerted the others at not far short of midnight.  Peter, Matthew and Mike had actually carried out the deed.  They had needed to turn Paul and roll his bag back to get at his arms but he never stirred.  In my case they had found me lying on my stomach and it was a simple matter to unfasten my bag (the zipped bag I was so proud of because I thought it would protect me from any assault!) and cross my wrists behind my back.  It also gave them the opportunity to reach my ankles while Paul was spared this indignity.

They had been particularly careful with their lashings (their victims weren't putting up any resistance so they had all the time in the world!) as they wanted to be sure our hands would be very secure, but the lashings would not be over tight.  As a final precaution, they had arranged a watch system with each of our mates sitting with us for an hour.  As Stuart and James were sharing with us, they were given the last two hours, which was why James was already awake when I stirred.  Despite the mild discomfort resulting from sleeping in a slightly unusual position, I could only admire their audacity and had no hesitation in saying so.

Then I suggested it was time they set us free.  The four exchanged glances, and looked sheepish but it was left to Stuart to say, "Sorry, no can do.  We agreed last night to keep you like that until breakfast, so the faster we get it under way the faster you will be free men again!" 

I looked at Paul and my eyes were held by his resigned expression, which seemed to say, "guess we will have to go along with these clowns!"  I relaxed with a sigh and lay down again on my bound hands.  Mike and the others left, leaving James and Stuart to attend to the prisoners.  James busied himself untying my ankles, for which I was truly grateful, while Stuart helped Paul struggle out of his sleeping bag.  He then insisted that he must check on our bonds. He pushed Paul forward quite roughly, so that his head was on his bare knees, at the same time manipulating the boy's bound hands.  The loud "Ow!" was ignored and Paul was allowed to sit up again as Stuart pronounced himself satisfied.

Next he turned his attentions to me.  He wasn't quite so rough this time and as his fingers worked over the knots holding the lashing on my wrists he asked me softly if I was OK.  His concern rather amused me - he and the rest of my mates had no hesitation in tying me up while I was asleep so why worry now I was awake - but with a grin, I assured him I was fine.  As he worked over my bonds I craned my neck round to try to see what he was doing and was amazed to see my wrists had been wrapped in what appeared to be an old sock.  "Yeah," said Stuart when I asked him what it was for, "We thought it would give your arms some protection from the rope".

"Oh, for heavens sake," I exclaimed, "you lot are going soft!  If you go on like this you will be making me sit with a token cord round my hands and I will be told not to take it off!  My arms are fine now, and it wouldn't be a proper game if I don't go home with a few bruises!" 

Stuart coloured slightly and reminded me of his promise to my mother, then he went on, "Think yourself lucky it was us who took care of you and not Matthew.  Last night he insisted on tying his brother himself.  We thought he might try to go easy on Paul but were we in for a surprise!  We had to prevent him carrying out his wilder schemes and Mike himself insisted on checking Paul's hands to make sure they weren't too tight.  I dread to think what you have got James and me into, taking Paul under your wing today, so you can look at this little adventure as pay-back in advance!"

I giggled at Stuart's comments and Paul, who had been taking in every word answered, "Don't you worry about that lout.  I'm going to sort him out big time!"  Paul was a few months older than me, shorter but stockier.  Nevertheless, his bravado had us all laughing furiously while he sat with a serious expression wondering what the joke was!

James and Stuart helped us to our feet and we were escorted from the tent to loud cheers from the other boys.  We were ushered to the centre of the camp and invited to sit side by side on a couple of logs, which had been placed there for us.  Everyone busied himself with breakfast and we sat there for some time, ignored by our friends. 

At length, Paul said, "This is OK, really.  Tied up like this we get out of chores.  I think when breakfast is over I shall ask to be tied up again and that way I won't have to wash up!"

He needn't have worried.  Our captors had no intention of giving us our liberty any earlier than necessary and we were spoon-fed our cereals from a bowl followed by hot coffee.  Paul didn't have to make his request - only when the clearing up was completed were we finally untied.  Although neither of us had complained this was a relief.  It was a chilly morning and while all our mates were, like us, in cotton gym shorts (our standard uniform for these occasions) they were all dressed in sweatshirts as protection against the chill while Paul and I only had our thin tee shirts which we had slept in.  We dived for the tent, donned warmer shirts and pulled on socks and trainers and were ready for the fray...

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