Rodney, the Ranger, with Daniel Morgan on Trail and Battlefield

by John V. Lane

He did not rest again till nightfall. He had seen no game save squirrels and, having but one load for his rifle, hesitated to waste that on small game. From the first he had thought his only chance of escape would be to follow some stream flowing in the direction of the Ohio. At dusk he came to one and concluded it now safe to follow it, but soon he must eat, for he was very weak.

Selecting a convenient place he sat down to wait for a chance glimpse of game. Possibly a deer might come that way to drink, and a deer would be worth his one bullet. Rodney by this time concluded his pursuers had lost his trail and he felt as though he were alone in the great forest. His eyelids were heavy, but, recalling what happened to him through falling asleep three days before, he rose to his feet the better to keep awake. As he did so he was startled by a shot, fired a little way down the stream.

The boy’s eyelids were no longer heavy. He experienced something like a chill and he asked himself, “What if I had seen game and fired?” After waiting a few moments, it occurred to him that there was a possibility that the shot had been fired by white men. Of course it was improbable, but he must investigate. If they were Indians, they would gorge themselves with the meat and sleep soundly so that he ought to have no trouble in getting past them. Moreover, unless many were in the party, they would leave a portion of the 51 carcass if it were a deer they had shot. Why might he not secure that? He was hungry enough to eat the flesh raw.

Cautiously approaching he finally saw the gleam of firelight among the trees and then shadows of men, and his heart sank. They were Indians! Two came up to the fire from the stream and the boy noted the direction whence they came. After the moon appeared he entered the brook to descend it and look about for signs of the place where the game was killed. At last he found it, and the carcass of a deer from which the hind quarters had been cut. Quick work with his knife secured him a goodly portion of what was left and with this he hurried on down the brook, on the slippery bed of which he kept his footing with difficulty. His hunger urged him so that after going about a mile he decided he was far enough away to risk a fire.

He gathered a lot of dried twigs and rubbed them between his palms, thus making a small powdery mass into which, after mixing with it a few grains of powder from the priming, he struck sparks from the flint and steel of his rifle. The smell of the cooking meat made him ravenous and, like an Indian, he ate it half raw. He then lost no time in extinguishing his fire and renewing his journey.

The good food and the reflection that so far he had outwitted the savages, put him in a very happy frame of mind. He was congratulating himself on his good luck when he heard a dry twig snap in the dense 52 growth beside the brook. It was a moment of horror for the lad and he instantly crouched in the shadow of the bushes and cocked his rifle. The noise continued, a shuffling sound, and then his straining ears detected the snuffing of some animal. One may imagine his relief.

The animal soon emerged from the bushes, a black, shaggy bulk with muzzle uplifted, following the scent of the meat which Rodney carried.

Now, being followed by a hungry bear under such conditions would not be agreeable to most people, but the boy’s courage was good and his relief at finding his pursuer not an Indian was so great that he felt like laughing; instead he hastened his pace.

The chase continued, mile after mile, though to the tired lad stumbling over the slippery stones it seemed league upon league. Occasionally he stepped in a hole to his waist, but he was too excited to heed the drenching or the fatigue.

An hour passed, and bruin yet followed. “Reckon he’s hungry as I am,” Rodney remarked to himself. Then came the thought, why not divide with the bear? Suiting action to word the lad quickly cut his meat in two pieces, flinging one behind. With a growl the brute savagely seized it and the boy hurried on. The respite was brief, however, for not many minutes passed before he heard his pursuer, appetite whetted by what he had eaten, following the trail.