I had very little desire to read The Rifle by Gary Paulsen, but since it was of great interest to our boys especially, and covered one of our favorite time periods, it was chosen as a read aloud.

The author described the fashioning of a rifle in 1768 so vividly, it seemed as though Cornish McManus was assembling it right in front of us. I felt like maybe even I could put one together. “Almost as detailed as Henty,” our 13 year old son noted.

The story became more alive when Cornish sells his immaculate workmanship to John Byam in order to provide for his new bride.

Byam joins a band of revolters after he dispatches a British officer in an attempt to save the life of an innocent American farmer from an unjust hanging. (This scene is too graphic, in my opinion. Edit as needed.)

Byam succumbs to dysentery in the trench after making a name for himself as a legendary sharpshooter on the side of freedom. The rifle is seized, and ultimately ends up in the attic of a Connecticut farmhouse.

It stays untouched and forgotten until 1993 when it is discovered by a young brother and sister. The rifle is sold to a pawn shop for $25, and after passing through several more sets of hands, ends up with Tim Harrow in Arkansas.

Staggering amounts of information concerning weapons swirl through Tim’s head, “and with it, certain aspects of the Constitution and history and a large measure of Christ and Christianity as he thought of it so that it all rolled into one philosophy in some way he could not define but knew, was absolutely certain, was the only right way to view things.”

(We’ve met a few folks like Tim down here, and chuckled at this bit.)

Tim never dies at the hands of Big Government, though he was amply prepared for it. Instead, stomach cancer takes his life at age 46, but not before he sells the rifle to Harv.
Harv hangs the rifle over his mantle at Christmas. His wife decorates around it with elegant candles, but not once in nearly two hundred years did anyone check to see if it was loaded. The powder heats up from the flickering candle flames, and the story ends as awfully as you can imagine.

The sobering point of the book is made:

If treated respectfully, rifles and the like can be useful, even beautiful tools for the provision and protection of family and country, but like every other inanimate object, they can become the source of untold grief when they are handled carelessly.

Airsoft games happen regularly in our woods, and I thought this story was a balanced and needed reminder for the young men who enjoy it: always treat a gun as if it’s loaded.

Recommended for such young men ages 12-15.