The ghost that got lost

In my considerably younger days I ran a scout troop.  One of the things I most enjoyed was coming up with imaginative and novel ideas for wide games.

At this point it might be as well for me to explain that a wide game is one played out of doors over a larger area than your usual football pitch.  Indeed, the event could take the form of a hile and stretch out over several miles.  I and a couple of other local scouters became very well known as a team organising these events that for several years we were called on to run them for the county.  But to get back to this particular one.

I had found a great site for our summer camp that year.  It was in the middle of the Forest of Dean, right on the bank of the River Wye down on the border of England and Wales.  The boys were able to enjoy canoeing, rock climbing and hiking along with the usual in-camp activities. One evening, as we were sitting round the camp fire, I told the troop that I had found an old copy of The Times lining a drawer at work.  This dated from a century before and, coincidentally, mentioned the Ghost of Cinderford which was said to appear in the Forest of Dean once every hundred years.  Of course, that was the night on which the ghost was due to appear.  What was more, the ghost was said to appear in the Forest on the other side of the river not very far from our camp site.  I said no more and sent the boys to bed in the normal way.  BUT...

At about half past eleven I woke them up again and told them to get dressed.  They were going on a ghost hunt. I explained that the ghost would be laid to rest if a group of people formed a ring around it, holding hands.  I sent them downstream to cross the river by a footbridge about half a mile away while the three adult leaders stayed in camp in full view.

After the boys had gone, one of the other scouters took a sheet and crossed the river by canoe.  Unfortunately, neither the boys found the ghost nor the ghost found the boys, who eventually trooped back into camp rather dispirited.  They got back before the ghost and the evening was saved when he slipped and fell into the river while disembarking from the canoe, much to the amusement of the boys.

Fortunately, most of my wide games were more successful than that one - but that's the one that sticks in the memory!

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OK, so it's pushing it a bit to call this a picture of a bridge, but there is a bit of Westminster Bridge showing.  This was taken from the London Eye.