It dawned on me that the minors were ransacking the knapsacks of new prisoners; I dashed there and in no time scattered them. Three hundred heads turned towards me. «I saw nothing,» sounded from all directions and everything got quiet. Of course, the situation was far from comfortable. Like a deer surrounded by wolves. But a deer has antlers and can die fighting, not with the head in a slop-pail.
That meant a permission to dispose of me. A horde of minors moved on me.