It was sort of like a scene from "The Swarm".

It happened on a long hike along a narrow trail winding through Redwoods, Tan Oak, and Madrone. A kid near the back of the line (19 students, 2 teenage cabin leaders, and me) stepped on a Yellowjacket nest. This means he had walked of the trail, since the nests never seem to actually be on the trails. The first I knew of it was when kids started yelling and running past me. A girl near the back of the line had collapsed to the ground. I ran back and quickly figured out what had happened. There were Yellowjackets in the girl's hair and all over her clothes. She was screaming and crying. So were several of the others. I started picking and flicking the angry insects off of her. The other kids and the cabin leaders were helping as best they could. Up the trail somebody was shouting that the kid named Shadow had "swallowed a bee." I ran up the trail to find him shirtless, hunched over and making gagging sounds. One of the other kids was slapping him on the back. For some reason, somebody else was pouring water on him. The water was mixing with the blood that seemed to be coming from his mouth, or possibly his nose. It was hard to tell.

Kids were running everywhere. Another boy had also taken off his shirt because Yellowjackets had crawled inside it. Several of the students, frightened by the bloody, gagging boy, had retreated back down the trail. I was sure that the boy was having an allergic reaction and going into anaphalactic shock. As I fumbled for the med kit I called for help on the walkie-talkie. At this point I was not too calm and trying to do several things at once. Of course this never works too well. My co-worker back at home base got my location and told me to work on trying to calm the boy down, while checking his records to see if he had any history of allergic reactions to insect stings. I wrapped my jacket around him and talked him into a calmer state of mind. Gradually, his breathing improved. The blood was wiped away by somebody. I noticed a welt on his neck where he had been stung. On the outside, thankfully. My co-worker said that she and one of the classroom teachers would meet us on the trail with ice and vinegar (vinegar, a mild acid, counterracts the effect of wasp venom, which is a base). Slowly, the cabin leaders and I got the kids moving. The kids themselves were helping as best they could. Carrying the possessions of their wounded classmates and helping calm them - even telling jokes to try to get them to laugh. One boy even carried my backpack (in addition to his own) so I could carry the girl who had been stung on the head and face. This girl, as I carried her up the trail, kept saying she missed her mom and wanted to die. She even tried to apologize for being heavy (thankfully she was one of the lightest kids). I just kept talking, explaining what had happened and telling them that the pain would ease up soon. At the apex of our journey (we had continued up rather than go down past the nest again) some of the kids were even singing. Soon afterwards, we met up with the rescue party. Ice and vinegar were applied to wounds, and we marched back down the hill.

Seven kids had gotten stung, three of them multiple times. The boy who had been stung in the neck was fine. By the time we started downward, even the swelling had disappeared. The girl who had been stung on the head was walking with an icepack on her head under my hat. One of the other boys, who had been a bit of a troublemaker on previous days, and who had been at the forefront of those helping on the trail, revealed that he too had been stung. During the crisis, he hadn't complained about it at all. Not one word. Talk about a stressful situation allowing a person's true qualities to shine through.

Later, at the assembly before recess, I stood up in front of the school and gave them a commendation for courage and selflessness. It's amazing to see kids (or anybody else for that matter - but especially kids) help each other out in times of confusion and pain.

I'm not taking that trail next week.

I've been looking through the journals the kids have been keeping this week. Here's what a couple of them had to say about tuesday's night hike: At first I was nervous and scared but later on I thought dead people were following me, and I learned that trees have been here for a long time. They can tell stories if you just listen. I like the part when I was walking alone. I felt that there were guardians behind me. I felt enjoyable, safe and peaceful.

The girl with the guardians didn't get stung.

At home, The Dickens, in her best no-nonsense tone, stated that, "someday I can put ice in poop and coffee." Then, after some thought, she added, "someday I can put medicine in my butt."

Keep it surreal.