"I know where
Turn in Track is," she said, "you passed it."
"Do you mind
if I...?" I said.
all," she said. I took another sandwich. I was sorry now that I'd left her
hanging on the wire.
minute," I said, "I'll just nip up and stamp my card." This heavy,
kindly girl raised no objection to a clear breach of the orienteering code. In
a moment I rejoined her, rubbing my hands briskly. "Rock Outcrop. That's
the last one, isn't it? You got a course on it?"
I could see my
way clearly to winning the junior ladies' trophy now. Home on the last control
point with Russet Pants' aid, then make a break for the finish. She was too big
a girl to be able to run fast and, besides, her glasses would probably steam
up. She wrapped up her sandwiches and came slowly to her feet. "I suppose
we'd better get on with it," she said. I was beginning to suspect that here
also was a first-and-last-time orienteer.
Control Point 5
was easy, actually. It was open ground, and there was only one limestone crag
in the general area. We got there together and searched around it. "Here it
is," she called out trustingly.
In the last
resort I just couldn't do it to her. I was going to have to throw the fight.
"You go ahead," I said, and sat on the rock for a quiet Gauloise. I
didn't stamp my card, but I walked easily back to Santon Bridge Village
Hall—you could see it from Checkpoint 5—and conceded. Which is why, on the
official results of the West Cumberland Orienteering Club, published later, you
will see the entry: C. Gammon; unattached; retired. That was one way of putting