Page 69 - REALLY What A time Book IX

REALLY SO WHAT
What A Time

A FORT IN THE WOODS

tell if it was different from the rest of the area. This may have
been my favorite spot. I would swing from the vines across
the trench unendingly.

I stood high on the hillouts with a vine in my hands. With a
run and jump sail out across the trench. If I left go I’d usually
fall into the trench and bushes. Sometimes the bushes would
be trampled from previous landing. If I’d land on my feet I’d
be off like a cat without hesitating. Other times I would swing
back and forth in a full circle like a pendulum. Occasionally a
vine would break. The fall was always bruising, but nothing
ever broke.
My imagination ran wild in the forest. When the Indians were
around it was always important to be quiet, and stealth.
Nothing was better than to steal away or never be recognized
after a rain. The Oak leaves covering the ground made no
noise. No one ever knew where I was.

Cowboy games were great in the woods. Hiding behind a tree
waiting to ambush some local settlers. I’d shoot them down
with my trusty white handled, silver Texas six-shooter. You
never ran out of gun powder or bullets because of the length
of the roll of caps. Robbing them was a cinch.
Despite recognizing armies, and cavalries, in the movies at
their isolated forts in the deserts of the southwest I never gave
a thought to such things in my woods. Further; besides the
awful war that raged across the world, and the reason that

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