Panorama (27 page)

After this tense incident, it’s time to think about sleep, and since most of the scouts are tired there’s no need to remind them, they just go to sleep, only FHF and Josef remaining outside in the corridor in order to talk as they exchange impressions, share with each other what they’ve been reading and what they thought of it. Finally they are also tired and want to go back to their seats, but the little ones are already sprawled across them, so the two friends sit down on the fold-down seats in the corridor and nod off. Josef then suddenly awakens to find the conductor back again with his lantern, and he tells him that the tickets have been found, the conductor replying that’s good, for he would have had to charge them a higher price than at the
station, though the snoring Hans is not easily awakened as, foggy with sleep, he hands over the tickets, and Alfred wakes up and sees FHF and Josef in the corridor, remarking, “Are you crazy? Why aren’t you in your seats?” FHF is about to explain why they are hunkered down in the corridor when Alfred interrupts and says, “Of course, our camp philosophers! Get back to your compartment!” Quietly they take back their seats, and so the journey continues in sleep or in half sleep until the station where they change trains, the troop almost sleeping through it, the conductor showing up on time and announcing that it’s time the young gentlemen got all their bags together, if indeed their destination is still the same, but Alfred thanks him and says, “No, my dear sir, we are still headed to Adamsfreiheit!” Alfred then wakes up anyone in the pack who is still asleep, all the boys gathering their things and stumbling onto the dark platform, as they look for the waiting room, though it’s locked, someone from the railroad obliged to open it up for them, the Wanderers pulling out their flashlights, the sooty, smelly room not all that inviting, though the benches are long enough that they can stretch out on them. The railroad worker promises to wake them on time, it’s a good four hours before the next train arrives, the worker wishing them a comfortable rest as he closes the door, everyone already asleep, since Wanderers are used to such things, even dozing through the night on small, hard wooden benches with uncomfortable slats, the philistines generally not being able to sit on them for even a little bit when awake.

As promised, the worker wakes the pack on time, each of the boys gathering together his several things and all of them shuffling sleepily through the morning mist across the empty platform to the train, the air fresh and damp, most of them soon perking up, the Wanderers having the entire car of an almost empty train to themselves, as it heads off through the dusky countryside, many of them stretching out again and dozing some more, the older ones sitting up or standing at the window to marvel at the dawning day, except for the always-sleepy Fabi, the area both stark and lush at the same time, long lakes branching out into reedy, undulating swamps, dreamy forests standing motionless in between, and everything quiet beneath the light of the rising sun. A half hour before the next change of trains the sleepers are awakened, because Alfred wants them all to eat something, since they have a long day ahead of them, though there is nothing hot to drink, all
the Wanderers refusing to carry a thermos, most having some cold tea in their canteen which is still lukewarm, which to no one but a real Wanderer tastes any good. Then it’s time to get off and endure another layover of about an hour, Alfred and Willi making sure that anyone who makes use of the water fountain makes sure to pay attention to the signs that say
ONLY FOR DRINKING!
and
NOT FOR WASHING!
, after which many faces and hands are cleansed of soot, all of them completely black from the journey, FHF comically announcing, “The heroes from Landstein at the Castalian Spring, but not on Parnassus!” Meanwhile Hans tells FHF that he’d do better to make sure not to splash any around, for it’s not water for washing but precious drinking water. At last all the boys are refreshed and bright-eyed, it being good that they’re done, for a rail official arrives and asks whether any of them can read, to which Alfred responds in an exceptionally polite and peaceful manner, “Yes, we can all read.” At this the official laughs heartily, flashing Alfred a dark look, after which the official turns on his heels and disappears, the rest prowling around for a bit before getting onto the narrow-gauge train.

Everyone by now is in a good mood and joking around, as excitedly the Wanderers admire the surrounding countryside, those who already know Landstein telling the others, “Just wait till you see the camp for the first time, as well as the mountain and Sichelbach Lake!” In the train are a couple of people from Adamsfreiheit, Alfred asking them where the baker is located, who the best grocer is, and so on. The train rolls on like a snail for almost two hours, the manager of the station and his helpers surprised to see such a pack of young men get off, all of them happy that the journey is over. Alfred and Willi inquire immediately if the crates have arrived, and hear that, yes, they arrived just fine, a driver from Adamsfreiheit saying that he had to pick up something in Markl the next morning and that he could swing by with the empty wagon and pick up the crates if someone sent two strong boys to the station early, and that it would be an honor to do it without charging the Wanderers. This all arranged, the pack heads off laughing and singing, the little ones a bit tired, their knapsacks having to be carried by others, the older ones somewhat uncomfortable now with a knapsack hanging from each shoulder. Soon they reach Leinbaum, where a farmer asks if the boys want some milk, the Wanderers not hesitating for a moment
as they stretch out on the edge of the road across from the farmer’s yard to rest, drink some milk, and eat something as the farmer introduces himself as Herr Hunger. Hans is glad they can order milk from Herr Hunger each day, but Alfred says it’s too far to walk to Leinbaum each morning, it being easier to get milk in Sichelbach or Markl.

Willi recommends that they get moving, there being still lots to do that day, the younger boys also now excited as they soon reach the cool forest, having decided to pay a quick visit to Ranger Brosch, the ranger’s house lying in a clearing amid a large meadow, some plowed fields, and a duck pond, where they again take a short break as Alfred and Willi and Hans go up to the house, though Hans comes right back out to yell, “Boys, quick! Frau Brosch has made lunch for us!” No sooner are they all inside with their bags and packs than FHF wants to know how big the district really is that Ranger Brosch oversees, though Alfred doesn’t give FHF much time with him, for he thinks it’s more important to speak with the ranger himself. Frau Brosch apologizes that she doesn’t have enough place settings for twenty-four people, for though there is enough room, there aren’t enough plates, Alfred reassuring her that the Wanderers have their own camp plates and are used to using them, though Frau Brosch says all the same, “Still, it’s bad hospitality!” Then they all say that she shouldn’t worry about it, and as the ranger comments that when it comes to food the stomach matters a lot more than the plate, his wife still insists that at least the older boys should eat off her plates, at which the rest say as one, “Everyone is equal among us Wanderers!” Willi adds, “Please don’t treat us any differently.” She understands, yet she continues to insist that Alfred, as the oldest, should eat from her dinnerware, otherwise she will be insulted, to which he finally gives in. A huge bowl with thick potato soup is then brought in, it tasting wonderful as it is quickly served up to all, everyone thinking this is the entire meal, for it’s so rich and satisfying, but then the main course arrives, dumplings with sauerkraut and bits of bacon and gravy soon filling their bellies, as they lick up every last bite, which satisfies the ranger’s wife.

By now it’s high time they were on their way, though Herr Brosch wants the troop to stay and sleep in the hayloft for a couple of days or at least a night, during which time they can set up the tents, but Alfred turns down the offer with such gratitude that the Brosches are much impressed and
don’t press the matter any further. Instead, the ranger only offers to accompany them to their campsite in order to show them a shortcut, which he points out on a map. The offer is accepted with pleasure, Josef already convinced that the ranger is no philistine. They then march off, the ranger wanting to carry the littlest one’s pack, though this boy, known as Pony, is not at all weak and ever so proud, as he tells Herr Brosch that every Wanderer has to be able to make his own way and not take any help from others, at which the ranger laughs, as they all happily hike to the campsite, where they throw off their packs, and Herr Brosch shows Bambus the nearest flowing spring and makes him promise that the Wanderers will take good care of it, making sure to protect everything they encounter in such a natural setting, to which Bambus answers in a dignified manner, “If everyone took care of things the way the Wanderers do, then the world would be a much better place, nor would there be any reason to besmirch a forest with ugly notices warning what not to do.” Herr Brosch then smiles and wishes them all a nice time and a pleasant stay, shakes Alfred’s hand, and says a warm goodbye.

Now the Wanderers are at last alone, most of them stripping off their clothes down to their shorts, some checking out the surrounding area, others wanting to clean up and head down to the creek to figure out where to set up a dam so that they have a place to wash where the water will reach up to their knees, and where the pots can be cleaned, and though everything will take time, a real Wanderer never complains about anything, some of them resting as FHF comes down to announce, “The travelers have reached their land. The holy line of the knights of Landstein lives once again. A new page in the history of the heroes is opened.” Josef says to Alfred, “We’ve never had a better site, have we?” Alfred agrees and replies that it’s good that a line of trees separates the site from the meadow below, for that way they won’t be bothered by gnats, while Willi, glancing at his watch, says, “We need to call the others, for it’s high time to start pitching the tents, otherwise the little ones will be too tired.”

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.