When you are kids you have no sense of fear or danger or maybe it’s just no sense.
Somehow Colin – it was only one ‘L’ then – and I found time to slope off to the woods and have a game of cowboys and Indians, or maybe we had just watched the film zulu and fancied ourselves as African warriors.
We decided, for our game, we would each have a couple of spears to throw. They were easier and quicker to make than bows and arrows. We hunted around in the woods at the back of the apple orchard until we had cut and sharpened a few spears each. Somehow in those times a razor sharp axe in the hands of two young school kids was the most natural thing in the world, and no way was it dangerous. Once we were happy with our nice sharp spears, we went our separate ways to get lost in the undergrowth. After an agreed time had elapsed, the game started, and we then started to stalk one another. It appeared that Colin was better at stalking than I was, for about 10 minutes later the first I knew he was there was when I had a freshly made spear sticking in my side. It wasn’t actually sticking in my side, but it certainly felt like it. The thick coat I was wearing saved the day, but a small amount of blood attested to Colin’s accuracy with a spear. I think we went home and told mum we had been playing I-spy or something safe like that.