Scoutmaster Diggory’s spacious lungs inhaled the cool mountain air, as he ascended the root-infested dirt trail. The inharmonious sound of a dozen tiny voices nattering filled the air behind him, masking the gentle wind blowing down from the cliffs above. All around the jagged terrain, tall trees tower, scraping the cloudless blue sky with their numerous needles and pines. Squirrels skitter up the grooved bark and chew upon the hard shells of pinecones, hanging from the rough branches like Christmas lights. Amongst the wooden tendrils of the stoic giants, brown, black, and all colours of birds sing their soothing songs.

It was Diggory’s third expedition with Scout Troop Forty-Two, the young scouts of Jasper. They had ascended Mount Edith Cavell before and camped amongst the moist grass of the southern plateau. Today would be no different.

Diggory felt at home amongst the scattered boulders, untouched and untamed wildlife, and the refreshing air of the mountains. He had felt this way ever since his first expedition when he was just a scout himself; gaining his wilderness badges and spending his time outside of school in the forests of his hometown. He was an explorer at heart, it was his dream. And now, as the Scoutmaster, he was living it out.

The twelve children following behind him were just as excited, it wasn’t every day they got to go on an expedition. They were all dressed up in their troop appropriate clothes: brown shorts with hiking boots, a button down short-sleeved shirt with their badge sash slung across, and a dark green ball cap with the troop’s logo sewn into it. Mike and Harry, Jeremy and Marco, Greg and all the other big tykes. Each had a smile plastered upon their innocent faces, yet another aspect of the Scoutmaster job that Diggory enjoyed. He got to share his love of the wilderness with others, some who would become just as passionate as him.

“Sir, look!” one of the excited children shouted, his finger outstretched above him. Diggory’s eyes traced a line from the boy’s finger up to a branch where an owl sits, brown and white streaks of feathers across its breast. Its beady yellow eyes stare directly into Diggory’s.

Strange.

“Good eye,” Diggory chirped, “that’s a Boreal Owl, a nocturnal bird at home in the mountains of North America! It’s not often people see them since they are shy and mostly active at night.” The young scout looked pleased with himself for spotting such a rare sight, despite the strangeness of the occurrence. Diggory’s grandfather used to always say that owls were a sign of bad fortune, even death, but superstition wasn’t Diggory’s thing. Nature, and the creatures living within it, are all beautiful.

Time passed as they ascended the craggy trails of the enormous mountain, and the unhindered yellow sun peaked at the sky’s summit; an indication of snack time. The scouts and their hardy leader stepped off the lesser-travelled trail towards some fallen trees covered in moss and polypores, perfect for makeshift benches and chairs. They sat down on the natural seats and set their bags down in front of them, each pulling out a small plastic bag full of trail mix. The snack fit for a bunch of young adventurers. They tucked into their mixtures of nuts and dried fruits, while Diggory sifted through his large grey hiking pack. It was nearly the same size as him, the scouts often wondered how he lugged it around with such ease.

First aid? Check. Flare gun? Check. Ample nonperishable food? Check. Hydration pack? Check. Emergency supplies? Check. Camping gear? Check. Everything is here.

Though he was thorough in his preparations before an expedition, he felt it necessary to double and triple check his readiness whenever possible. As usual, he had everything he needed and more. So did all of the scouts, with their bloated backpacks filled with all the fixins of a wilderness expert. Everything was going according to plan; the weather was fantastic for hiking, everyone was in good spirits, and they were all abundantly prepared.

“Line up, Scouts!” Diggory barked, his voice prideful and powerful. The young explorers zipped up their various bags and arranged a remarkably straight line in front of their wise leader. Diggory took a quick head count, always being careful to double and triple check the number of scouts. Others might say he was being obsessively careful, but being cautious was something he believed necessary. After all, scouts had gone missing before; on this particular mountain too. He swore to whatever God possible that it would never happen under his watchful eyes.

The troop returned to their expedition, ascending the worn down dirt and roots of the natural path to the plateau. Their trail was blessed with the light of the sun hanging high in the sky, peaking through the green pines of the mighty trees. This day is going to be perfect, Diggory thought. And it was. The expedition proceeded without a hitch. They ascended the mountain at a reasonable pace, no one got lost or hurt, no bad weather, nothing. Diggory truly was a textbook perfect Scoutmaster and wilderness explorer.

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When they reached the mountain’s plateau, the scouts all beamed with excitement. It was a sight to behold, even Diggory was taken aback by the elegance and beauty. The plateau was relatively flat and was covered in healthy grass and other bright green plants. Bushes popped out of the land in a few places, surely hiding some unseen wildlife from the prying eyes of humanity. Rocks littered the small streams that coursed through the lower parts of the relatively flat land. Mountain peaks shot up beyond the plateau, covered in wind whipped rocks, snow, and ice. The other side of the plateau led down into a massive glacial valley, carving its way through the massive rocky structures. Truly, it was one of the most alluring spectacles of Earth’s beauty.

By the time Diggory had taken it all in, he noticed that the scouts had gathered around something farther off into the plateau. They usually did this whenever they found some animal they had never seen before. Diggory wandered over slowly, studying the distant snowy peaks. They excitedly mumbled as they stared down at a dried up log, stuck half way into the ground. It wasn’t an overly exhilarating sight, but Diggory assumed they had found some strange bug that was hidden from his view.

“What did you find, scouts?” Diggory questioned, attentively regarding the arm-sized log. None of them answered, they all just stared intensely at the lackluster object.

Suddenly stumbling back, his heavy boots squelching in the moist grass. Did that just happen? The scouts giggled loudly and Diggory looked over them again. Sure enough, it happened again.

The log impaled into the earthen ground jittered and spasmed, as if someone was shaking it from beneath with incredible force.

Not once, not ever in his decades of exploration and wilderness adventures, had Diggory seen such a thing happen. It made no physical sense, but the scouts weren’t aware of that. They found it entertaining, like a frog that expertly sings and dances. Greg, the most troublesome of all in Scout Troop Forty-Two, reached out his spindly fingers to touch it, but Diggory exclaimed loudly before he could.

“Everyone back away, go set up the campsite” he commanded, pulling some of the scouts in front of him away from the obscenity. They wandered off, mumbling their displeasure to one another. Diggory watched until they were far enough away, then he knelt down close to the log. It violently jittered again as he regarded it, surely breaking the boundaries of known physics. He studied the ground surrounding the log, closely examining the grass and dirt. There were no signs of anything fishy going on; in fact, the ground didn’t even appear to have an imprint of the log within it. It was as if the Earth wasn’t aware that the log existed in that very spot.

Diggory stepped back and sat on a dark grey boulder just a bit away, but close enough that the log was still within sight. It would occasionally jitter and jerk as Diggory pulled out his Master Scout Handbook from the small pocket on his massive bag. Despite having read it many times front to back, he wondered if he had missed something important. He flipped to the index and scanned over each section and page number within the book.

Trees and Plants? No. Wildlife Safety? No. Emergencies and First Aid? Nah. Protocols and Procedures? Maybe…

Diggory aggressively flipped through until he reached the Protocols and Procedures section of his handy guidebook. Each page held detailed information with guidelines for handling specific situations regarding unexpected weather, misbehaviour, dangerous individuals, and many more risks of the Scoutmaster job. Yet, not one page had any details referencing the lawbreaking log sticking out of the green plateau before him. As an explorer of the wilds, Diggory considered himself well suited to improvise for unexpected situations, but even he wasn’t sure how to handle such an obscure anomaly.

Having assessed the situation as best as he could, Diggory decided to investigate the log directly. It was just a log after all, what harm could it possibly cause? He could handle it. He walked over and knelt beside the log again, watching it intently. The scouts whispered to one another and pointed at Diggory, whose hand was slowly reaching out to the log. He waited for it to jitter aggressively once more and then he grabbed it, feeling the rough dried bark against his equally rough hands.

Nothing happened.

Diggory pulled the log out of the ground, revealing the other half of the tree limb from within. Strangely, when he had fully removed the log, there wasn’t a hole where it was impaled. Just as he had originally observed, it was as if the log had never been stuck in the soggy soil in the first place. The ground where the hole should have been was untouched moist grass. Diggory patted around the area with his calloused hands, feeling for any signs of breach. Nothing. No hole or crevice at all, but something wasn’t normal.

It didn’t feel hollow or empty, it felt like something was missing.

Without a moment's notice, Diggory’s body fell through the ground. He didn’t sink in, he didn’t get sucked in, he just fell straight through as if the land didn’t exist. One moment he was kneeling in an illustrious mountain plateau and the next…

An office…?