Yes, everybody had a ball of some sort, and all were listening eagerly to the instructor. Mr. Elliott drew a small parcel from his pocket, and opened it. Inside there were sixteen little flags—eight yellow and eight black.
'You see, I am prepared with your patrol colours,' he said. 'The truth is, I was intending to suggest this game myself as one to be taken. Now, let every scout fix a flag in his hat.'
The Wolves took the yellow, and the Ravens took the black, and the flags were fixed.
'The next thing,' said Mr. Elliott, 'is full trot for the Beacon;' and away they all went.
The Beacon was a small hill which rose sharply from the heath, and stood quite alone. It was not very high, perhaps a hundred feet, but from the top you could see far over the heath on every side. In old days a beacon-fire had been lighted on it to warn or arouse the country in times of danger; a fire had burned there when the Spanish Armada came.
The scouts swarmed up the side, and raced each other to the top. Then they gathered once more about the umpire.
'Now,' said Mr. Elliott, 'here's my idea of "Scout meets Scout." The Wolves will go to that patch of burnt gorse which is about half a mile east of the Beacon. The Ravens will go to that big oak which is about half a mile west. Those are the boundaries, and no one must pass them. North and south the land becomes open quite close to us, and nobody may go out there. It isn't likely he would wish to, for he would be seen at once. When I blow my whistle, the two sides will begin to work towards each other, and the hunt opens. The scout who strikes an enemy with his ball captures that enemy's flag. The flag is handed over, and the beaten scout comes up at once to report to me on the Beacon. He is dead, and will leave the contest. That patrol wins which finally captures the whole of the flags belonging to the other patrol.'
'But, Mr. Elliott, suppose you hit a man who has already taken two or three flags belonging to your own side, what then!' asked Billy Seton.
'He gives up everything,' replied the instructor, 'both his own flag and those he has taken. You see, it's a fight to a finish. The last man will simply collect the whole of the flags. The patrol with the finest scout is bound to win, and it gives everybody first-rate practice. There are heaps of hiding-places, and you may employ any means to decoy or deceive an opposing scout, except using his patrol cry, or, as the book says, disguise. But disguise is out of the question at the present moment. Now, away with you!'
Off the boys dashed, the Wolves scouring down the eastern face of the Beacon, the Ravens down the western. Within five minutes both patrols were in position, and they signified this to Mr. Elliott by holding up their patrol flags. Chippy had made the flag for the Ravens, and made it very well too, cutting the raven out of a scrap of an old green curtain, and stitching it on to a piece of calico. When the umpire saw the patrol flags raised above the gorse clumps which hid the patrols, he blew a long blast on his powerful whistle, and the contest began.