I had drifted to sleep in our tent when some of us were still sitting around the fire. It was like someone had drugged me, because I was out for a long time. I woke with a start only to discover I was all alone.

My husband was gone, but his backpack wasn’t.

There was also no trace of my two sons, but their stuff had also been left behind. I tried not to jump to conclusions or panic. I grabbed my phone and called my husband, but it went straight to voicemail. I left a message and hung up. Now we had a problem.

I searched the perimeter of our campsite. About fifty yards I saw the camper. It was a strange site, there in the thicket, no doubt stuck. I investigated and found that the camper was not just stuck; it had been stripped of its parts. I gasped.

I walked a little further and saw what were freshly dug holes or graves, I presumed. I kept my mouth from screaming and pressed on.

Then I saw my husband. He did not see me. I kept hidden so I could spy on him. He was holding a rifle on two miscreants who were also holding rifles. No.

I kept watching. My husband appeared to be negotiating with the creeps who had our children!

I saw them struggling to get free and my husband motioning the kidnappers to untie them.

Well, I decided to intervene. I reached for my gun holster and cocked my revolver. I shot at one of the crook’s feet. He cussed as he crumbled to the ground in pain. One of my boys had untied his hand and was untying his brother.

I rushed in. I hugged my boys then threw my arms around my husband, weeping for joy. The other criminal had fled.