Summer vacation loomed, as June sunshine spread its beguiling warmth to embrace the group of middle-school students about to embark upon a half-day field trip to a local preserve, the culmination of a science program on surviving in Maine woods.

The science teacher, Rollie, led the group, while I accompanied them to be sure all students stayed focused on the assignment. Rollie drove the school bus and took us to a natural woodland his parents owned in Falmouth. Upon arrival the students scampered off the bus, full of chatter.

Then the serious work began. Slowly we walked the trail. Students had their clipboards, paper and sharp pencils at the ready. Their leader asked them to identify trees newly unfurled and wildflowers, poking up in sunlit corners. Only scribbles could be heard. Rollie shared how people made nettle stew, pointing out a clump of nettles further over. One of the students said his grandmother collected dandelion greens in the spring.

“She and my grandfather like them, but you wouldn’t get me eating dandelions. Yuk.” The others murmured agreement.

As the pine trees pulled closer, their teacher directed students to study the path.

“What kind of scat is this?” he asked, pointing to small marble-like droppings, dark against the washed-out pine needles.

“Rabbit poop,” called out one.

The others tittered.

A few more steps; their teacher stopped again. “Tell me, what is this?”

Answers flew back and forth.

He enlightened them. “A squirrel; deer have been along this path too, as well as a fox.” He pointed out their telltale droppings.

Students continued to write furiously.

Suddenly, Rollie stopped. “Listen up,” he said loudly, catching our attention. “What kind of scat do we have here?”

The young people gathered around staring intently at the couple of brownish-black oblong droppings directly in front of us. They shook their heads.

“Now,” said their leader solemnly. “This is a very unusual form of scat. You see it’s quite edible.” He picked up an oblong dropping, popped it into his mouth and chewed hard.

Immediately the girls squealed. A couple doubled over. “I’m going to be sick,” moaned one. Even the boys turned pale green, horror-struck as their teacher continued chomping. I stood frozen, stomach turning over.

Then a broad grin lit across his face. “Ah, come on, you guys. These are Tootsie rolls. I came along here before school and placed them on the path.”

An uproar followed and we hustled them quickly back on to the bus.

Once at school the students couldn’t wait to rush into the building to share with their friends their science teacher’s latest prank!

This happened many years ago, yet I am sure those students of Cape Elizabeth, now possibly parents of teenagers themselves, still remember that field trip when their teacher ate scat!

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