Learning at Camp—Changing my name to Rockachaw Bill—Elves of the Land of Three Ponds

Do campers learn anything at camp? What do they learn? Did you learn anything when you went to camp? When I went to Camp Stanislaus in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, more years ago than I care to number, I learned how to swim, play handball, ride a horse, and box. At least, those were the things I learned, i.e., stuff new to me at camp that I couldn’t do previously. I had already fished, played horseshoes, and shot a rifle; so, although I improved at those things, technically it wasn’t something “new” I learned.

The most important things I learned at camp, however, weren’t “things” at all. The big lessons had to do with learning how to act independently of parents, learning how to stick up for myself or, in one dramatic incident, someone else, learning how to maintain a friendship with an uncoordinated member of our group without appearing uncool to the jocks, learning how important it is to pick yourself up after failure (I was unseated by a horse and took a pretty good beating in a boxing match), ultimately learning how to enjoy the stuff I did well and not be crushed by the rest.

So, campers, did you learn anything at Sewataro last summer? Did you learn how to shoot a painball gun, catch a fish, skim down a water slide, throw a frisbee, hit a backhand, or shoot a bow & arrow? Did you learn some other, more personal, lessons? Tell us about them.

I’m going to part ways with the coyote. Coyote Bill, I discovered, is already too popular a name, used by a pretty well-known musician out west and by other bloggers as well. So I’ll keep the Bill part (since that is my real name) and use the mascot from my old camp, the Stanislaus Rockachaws, as my nickname. I’ll be Rockachaw Bill from now on. Oh, “rockachaw” comes from an old Choctaw Indian word for that little sticky weed that is so common is the sandy soil around the Gulf Coast, commonly known today as Cocklebur or, technically, Xanthium strumarium. It tends to stick to socks with its stiff, hooked spines.

And now, for another chapter in the story we began last week. . . .

The Spell of the Sorcerers

It all started when a travelling troup of Elf entertainers who called themselves “The Sorcerers” visited the Land of Three Ponds to put on a circus for all the resident Elves. For a nominal fee of 10 guilders each (a guilder was the coin the Makers had fashioned as the currency of Elf village in order to facilitate fair trade), a curious Elf could gain admittance to a show promising fire-swallowers, nail-walkers, snake charmers, knife throwers, hypnotists, mind readers, fortune tellers, and magicians able to make one’s head spin by amazing feats of disappearance and levitation.

The Sorcerers were scheduled for one week of performances at the small theatre that was used for community entertainments. The first night’s show was well attended but by no means filled. As word spread, however, of how mind boggling were the Sorcerers’ feats, this small auditorium could not hold the crowds. On the second night, the show played to a “standing room only” audience, and multitudes of unhappy Elves were turned away. On the day before the third scheduled performance--with everyone in Elfdom talking about the spectacle--the clan of Players, who handled entertainments and had booked the show, realized that unless they moved the venue to a larger space, disgruntled Elves who were turned away at the door might cause a disturbance of the peace. Since Elves are normally quite law-abiding citizens, this was deemed serious, so the Players transferred the production to the largest gathering place in the Land of Three Ponds, the open-air amphitheatre called the Bowl that had been built into a hillside overlooking the first pond. This suited the Sorcerers just fine, as they were able to showcase their amazing powers in an even more spectacular way.

The climax of the third night’s show was a trick that no Elf would ever forget. Shallimar, the leader of the Sorcerers and their chief magician, called for five volunteers from the audience who were blindfolded, bound in chains, and placed on a raft that was floated out into the pond. When it reached the middle, Shallimar raised his staff, shouted words in a tongue no Elf present understood, and threw the staff hundreds of feet into the air above the pond. At the apex of its flight, it scattered a flock of migrating black-bellied plovers and suddenly burst into an explosion of light that blinded the audience with its brightness. In the wake of the burst, a thousand glittering sparks in the shape of stars fell from the sky where the staff had been, disappearing before they hit the ground. Shallimar immediately directed the attention of the stunned audience toward the floating raft, which now was empty of passengers. “Have they been shocked by the spectacle and fallen into the water?” shouted Shallimar. “No,” he answered his own question, “they are sitting on the far bank of the pond.” And lo and behold, there they were: all five of them, now completely unbound, relaxed, and sitting on the far shore with their bare feet dangling in the cool waters of the pond. The audience let out a collective gasp at the dazzling instantaneousness of what had happened. This was magic indeed.

Eager elves could not get enough of the Sorcerers’ astounding displays. Tickets for the remaining four performances were sold out at the box office by 9 am the next morning, with some elves wanting to see the show more than once. And each show was more awe inspiring than the last one.

Not all of the elves, however, of the village were as smitten with the performance as was the general public. Dragoric, the ancient elder of the Protectors, had concerns about the sources of the Sorcerers’ powers from the very outset, concerns he had been reluctant to share with others until after the third night’s extravaganza. After the performance that night, he ambled over to the cottage of another elder, Tiffalil, the most revered of the Askers, and spoke about his concerns. Tiffalil did not need convincing, and in response to Dragoric’s suspicions, he uttered, “How indeed could one get such frippery magic without tapping into the dark arts?”

The two recalled the period of great erruptions in Elf history when whole clans clashed with one another for control of land and communities. Some went so far as to sell their Elvish souls for the supernatural powers that would give them control over others. The leader of this band, the carismatic leader, Luximar, nearly succeeded in gaining complete control before a coalition of clan elders managed to unite their members under the ancient principles of simplicity, harmony, honesty, and service. Simplicity implied that life should be lived on its own level. Harmony meant that one cherished the joys of community. Honesty dictated that any Elf with an unusual power be required to disclose the source of that power. And Service required that any such power could only be used for the good of all in the community, never for individual advancement or in frivolous display. Dragoric and Tiffalil were worried that the Sorcerers might be a descendants of Luximar or some of his followers, but they were not yet convinced that they posed a threat to the Land of Three Ponds, hoping that they would move on to other lands after their final performance on Sunday. At least, the two elders did not judge that concerted action should be taken on the basis of their suspicions alone.

That is, until the end of the 6th performance on Saturday night. Once the curtain had dropped to the now customary standing ovation, and the Sorcerers came out for their curtain call, Shallimar addressed the crowds with these words: “Elves of the Land of Three Ponds, you have been wonderful in your reception to us, the travelling nomadic clan of Sorcerers. What you have seen, however, is only the tip of the iceberg of our powers. Powers that we are willing to use for your benefit in exchange for a place in your community. We are tired of travelling and desire homes among other elves. Our proposal to you and your elders is this. Welcome us into your village by building cottages for us, give us a representative in your Council of Elders (one who has the same veto power as the representatives from the Askers and the Protectors), and we will use our powers to improve and safeguard the quality of life in the village. I think you will see that our methods are more effective than anything you have now.”

How will the elves of the Land of Three Ponds respond? What actions will Dragoric and Tiffalil take? And will Shallimar anticipate these actions and use counter measures? We will learn the answers in our next installment, “The Challenge of the Sorcerers.”