H. Adler - Panorama

Alfred whistles for everyone to gather round, then he indicates a spot in the woods somewhat off from the clearing for the short-term tents, for the more permanent tents will be pitched in the real campsite, the temporary ones better off in the woods should it rain, since there you don’t need tent poles the way you do in the open, you can hang each tent between two trees, while first you have to check the ground to make sure there are no roots or stones, as well as ants, though any real Wanderer knows to do this. Setting up goes quickly, two tent canvases are attached together, the wooden buttons called olives, then you thread a cord through two eyelets, lift up the tent, and tie the cord with a seaman’s knot, though now comes the part that requires some skill, for since the tent just hangs loose from the cord its four corners have to be stretched out such that they form a precise square, even the most adept tent pitcher needing a little while to get the corners right. Meanwhile someone else presents the pegs, which are pointed stakes that are then placed in the ties at the corners of the tent and pounded into the ground, though you have to make use of the two loops at each corner, using a stone as hammer, as you pound the pegs so deep into the ground that they cannot move, after which you do the same with the middle of the tent, which also has loops, each tent finally tight and secure, the small Egyptian pyramids done, though you still have to dig a ditch around each one so that you aren’t swamped if there is a sudden downpour. During one hiking trip they had terrible weather, FHF comparing it to the Deluge and saying, “One of us must have done something really stupid that has made Neptune mad!” Indeed, FHF is never caught off guard, and always has examples from Homer or history at hand when the others howl and complain, but the Wanderers got so wet that it was lucky that the next day the sun broke through, for then they spread everything out on a steep meadow to dry, which meant they had to abandon their entire plans for the day, though they were proud that at the next pack meeting not a single one of them was missing, nor had anyone caught a cold.

Once the tent is done, the edges are packed with moss and loam for further protection and to guard against moisture, after which one side is opened and tied back as an entrance, two boys able to lie inside it comfortably, sometimes there even being a third, or four if it’s just the smallest ones. This time they erect thirteen tents, twelve for sleeping, one for provisions. Each boy stores his things and binds them together with a blanket, after which the scouts cover themselves up at night right up to their heads, if it’s not too warm, and if it’s really cold they crawl in with a neighbor under the same blanket, using their knapsacks as pillows, everything that can be too easily crushed or is too hard needing to be taken out, the preparations completed once the storm lamp is hung. Meanwhile it’s turned dark, but the older ones set up a temporary kitchen so that they can quickly cook some soup or boil tea in the morning. This first campfire is made from just a few stones and poles from which hang a couple of pots, Bambus soon at work stirring some soup, no one knowing just what he’s put in it, be it barley, oats, a couple of quickly picked mushrooms, a sliced onion, bits of sausage, and a number of herbs that Bambus has managed to gather, as well as salt and a decent amount of the taste of the forest, such that the soup is hardly a sumptuous meal, though FHF doesn’t make fun of it but speculates that it’s the same soup the Spartans ate, the one that was offered to Leonidas, which certainly was also not a godly preparation made of nectar and ambrosia, meaning that Leonidas would have been thankful for a cook as good as Bambus. To the scouts the soup indeed tastes heavenly, as they let FHF talk on, some being too hungry and too tired to fish out the taste of the forest, after which they wish one another good night, Alfred not having to yell out “Quiet!” in forbidding anyone to talk, since most of the boys are asleep already.

The night passes quietly except for one incident, when suddenly a horrible screaming is heard, as if someone were calling for help, almost everyone waking up, only Fabi sleeping through it, since he sleeps like a groundhog and snores, sounding like a thunderstorm releasing hellish claps of thunder. Everyone else, however, hears the screaming, two new members in fact scared as Alfred jumps up and calls out, “What’s going on?” Hesitantly comes the answer, “It’s me, Pony! I can’t find my way back!” Hans and Willi then head out with flashlights to look for Pony, who stumbles toward the light, the rescue mission over after two minutes. Pony had to go to take a pee and went off so sleepyheaded that he couldn’t find the way back to his tent, Alfred later asking him, “You idiot, why did you go so far away without taking a flashlight along with you?” Then everything is quiet again, Josef thinking that he’d never let something like that happen to him, he would make marks on the trees, as any good Wanderer would, in order not to lose the way back, FHF whispering to Josef that the incident fit in wonderfully with the history of the Landstein camp, for it reminded him of an episode of Sinbad the Sailor , though FHF cannot remember the segment precisely and so falls silent, as everyone sleeps peacefully until morning.

To the call of “Wake up!” the day begins, the head of camp being the one who should announce it, though he had always been happy to turn this duty over to Willi, who saves everyone the trouble of having to bring along an alarm, for he has the ability to wake up whenever he wants to. After the sound of the call to wake up, everyone must get up, but it always takes a while before that actually happens, one tent opening after another, Willi standing outside momentarily, Josef and Pony also quick to rise, as Alfred stands like a pillar, lifting his elbows and then his long arms upward, as he makes such a contorted face that FHF says, “Alfred reminds one of Saint Sebastian. He should be named the patron saint of the Wanderers.” Meanwhile, it’s sometimes difficult to rouse FHF from his tent, as it doesn’t disturb him if you drag him out by his feet or by his head and shoulders, for the guy is unfazed and says, “Serenity in the face of any kind of medieval torture is the most admirable trait any Wanderer can have.” FHF is not really all that strong, he reminds you of a badger who at any moment might crawl into his den or disappear into a hole. If anyone disturbs him and asks him to do something he doesn’t want to do, he yells at his opponent, in the middle of a battle that doesn’t look as if it’s going too well for him, “Will you surrender? Will you surrender?” Watching this, hardly anyone can keep from laughing, everyone lets his guard down and backs off, which FHF immediately takes advantage of, pulling himself together and running off like a bolt of lightning to hide so that he can’t be found, even though he never goes that far. This is why FHF is so good at playing hide-and-seek, which involves his being sent off to hide, though it needs to be an area that’s well suited to this, he getting ten minutes to hide where he wants, be it on the ground, in a cavern, in some bushes, or in a tree, after which the others head out to look for him, though they have to be quiet and take care not to be discovered by him, since the moment they are he whistles and the player is out, the rest of the players having to stand still if they are near enough to have heard the whistle, after which FHF gets another five minutes to hide again. If someone discovers him during this who in all honesty did not hear him whistle, then FHF is called out and loses, but if FHF sees the searcher first, then FHF calls him out. After the five minutes pass, the others begin to search for him again, and often it’s the case that ten or more boys are out before FHF is ever found.