Tree Cutter

"We have to clear out this forest," exclaimed Jon shouting across the camp. The group of boy scouts looked up for their respected spots,
"Ok, ok fine we will cut down this tiny tree, jeez its not that big of a deal." Patrick said as he tossed his knife to the ground. Patrick was wildling a stick he had found on the ground; shaving-by-shaving he slowly started to carve a pointed stick.
"So who is actually going to do the cutting any way?" I said cursorily. We had just gotten up to the Weathermens cabin, our own personal campsite strategically scattered around the back woods of their multi acre property. Are camp site was the farthest one away form there cabin, a treacherous trip form some that would seem suitable for not even Indiana Jones to brave, going past the other boys camps each and every time fighting them off like the natives of a lost island, and climbing over a watery marsh with a precarious log to be our bridge across; taws an adventure every time. Our campsite was in shambles for we were the oldest patrol, revered by the young and up coming scouts and still kept in check by the leaders we were the highest in command. But even I could agree that over the years the scout spirit and moral has even been lifted form me. The enthusiasm to performing merit badges, and fulfill scoutly duties was a thing of the past, camping out in our own personal wilderness was, are home away from home. So to be expected even of my self our ways in safety and rules were not being dusted off and put to use. A tiny shark tooth like saw landed at Patrick's feet, his grimy hands picked up the saw and held it in the air, a glimmer of a reflection tried to cast its self off its dull blades.
"So I take it I am going to be the one who is cutting?" Pat boasted with a modest smugness.
"Well you are the best widdler in the entire camp and you were the only one who didn't get corners cut off there Widdln' Chit Card" I stated as I stood up and began to slowly stagger amongst the weeds over to the tree.
"Its probably best if you take the helm on this one skipper."
"Ok, I can do that for sure I can do this easy, it's just a tree."
Pat knelt down next to the tree and braced his arm along the wooded floor, his fingers clench tight against the roots and weeds that litter the ground as he puts his knees on the ground. He lifted up the saw and lay its cold jagged teeth against the warm bark of the young tree. He began to press the teeth into the trees side piercing holes in its side. Jerking back and forth he tore the tree form its trunk. Forwards and back as wood shavings began to poor out its side like blood on a dieing animal. All of a sudden to our avail he stopped, Jonathon, another scout in the troop, was grabbing his arm.
"Look here," he stammered, "were already done." Jon pushed the tree over but it did not come off, Pat was stopped short, with a little bit of bark remaining Jon positioned him self with one foot on the tree and one floor on the ground.
"Ya see? We can just jump on this last part here and it will come right off."
Jon's arms began to swing as he leaped up straight into the air and landed on the tree. Like the shot of a gun, the trees remaining bark built up the tension form the bouncing boy and snapped under the pressure. But sitting right blow the trees base was Patrick, the crack of a whip, the end of the tree came down right on Pat's knees,

A shrill shriek bellowed out of the boys lungs as he grabbed his leg writhing in pain, "OUCH!" the yell could be heard across the would for no ones listening ears.
"Oh my god Seth you have to go find a scout leader to help us fix this, I think he's really hurt." Jon turned to me pointing frantically out in the distance, his eye were as big and bug eyed as mine were as we watched Patrick grunt and roll around on the ground. Only a few quivering words could drip out my mouth at the fear of my friends expense.
"Uhhh, uhh, ok ill go find… someone."
I shot off towards all directions of the camp, among the silence the only thing I could hear of the cries of pats torment and pain was Jon shout "Hurry, hurry" as it diffused into the distant wind. The only thing on my mind was how I was going to find any one, I had no idea where the leaders or the rest of the troop was at the time, and they didn't know where I was. For 20 minutes straight I searched from campsite to campsite trying to find any would who could lend any form of aid. My mind raced as the thought of my return being fruitless. The scenes of my friend's disappointment, telling me of my failures for not finding any one in time, to save my poor comrade form his imamate demise.
I dragged my feet on the way back to the campsite. As I got closer and closer I couldn't see much, the rest of my patrol seemed to be all gathered around a single table in a large commotion. The first thought that came into my mind was that he must have bleed to death or something and they were all mourning his death saying "this is all Seth's fault, if it wasn't for him he would have got back in time and saved this poor boys life"
I inched my way back up to the table, "I couldn't find any one to help"
"What? What do you mean no one?"
Said one of the boys as the group began to open up. And to not even a premonition was reviled Patrick. He was laying on the table with a cloth on his head and his arms folded over his face. His boy was laid out flat all except for one leg he was flinching in pain as his other leg was propped up with a splint and tie offs made by one of the boys. His eyes peaked out from under his arms a little to show his eyes seeming stitched together they were closed so tight.
"What do you mean you couldn't find any one? Do you see what he looks like?"
My jaw drooped form being so speechless I was a complete loss for words.
"Well, uhh I… uhh tried but I couldn't find… there was no one…. I…"
my sentences became fragments as my words just started to be gibberish coming out of my mouth.
"Is he going to be ok?"
that was the only thing I could think of, but no one answered me. a smirk appeared on Patrick's face as he began to sit up.
"I think I will live."
Every ones face in the group turned for serious to big smiles as pat kicked off his own splint. A sigh that felt like a wave of ocean water rushed over my entire body. But the water soon turned to redness on my face.
"I was never actually that hurt, it did a lot at first when we sent you off but by the time you were gone it was pretty much fine. It will probably bruise, but I'm fine; so we decide to pull a prank on you for when you got back."
At this point my face is as red as a strawberry as the boys smiles turn to laughter directed at me. Then pat asked the fateful question.
"So Seth, what your saying to me is; after all of this you mean to tell me in my time of potential danger you take all that time to find some one, and you didn't find a single person?"