Troop 187 (cont.)

Anyway, this kid, the senior patrol leader his name was Tucker Wocjihuski, I remember because he wore an old army jacket with his distinct surname emblazoned on a blue patch above his left breast pocket.
Tucker was scary.
We were on a nature hike, fulfilling our requirements for an Edible Berry merit badge when came upon Tucker who was by himself roasting a grey squirrel on a small fire of birch bark and pine twigs. The smell was terrible. He had killed and skinned the rodent with nothing other than a short-hatchet. You could see tufts of grey fur cemented to its wooden handle with bloody fingerprints. That kid had big hands, each bloody whorl was the size of a fifty-cent piece. I hope never again to see a pair of getters that big on a 14 year old boy.