The American Spectator

“Jared.” Newman pulled him aside. “Look, being patrol leader doesn’t mean you can do anything you want. It means you have to give up things you want. There’s a saying in the military, ‘Officers eat last.’ What do you think that means?”

Jared shuffled his feet, making sidelong glances.

“Answer me, what do you think it means?”

“I don’t know,” muttered Jared.

“It means an officer is responsible for seeing that his men eat first. Right? Then after everybody else is taken care of, you can eat yourself. Now go back there and get those guys working on breakfast and stop trying to take the best jobs for yourself.”

It was a slow struggle but eventually the oatmeal was dished out and everybody sat around eating and enjoying the morning. Newman let the chatter about rock stars and sports teams go on for quite a while before bringing around the discussion again.

“Alright, now boys, we’re going up to a place on the other side of the mountain where there’s a nice rock face. We’re going to do a little rock climbing. Have any of you done any rock climbing before?”

“Me, me!” Eight hands waved in his face. “We have a rock pile in our backyard,” said Tom Brown. “I climb it all the time.”

“Well, this is some serious rock climbing. We’re going to use ropes. Did all you guys bring your ropes?”

“I didn’t,” said Squirrel. It was inevitable.

“Well, see if anybody’s got any extra. Now you guys all know your knots?”

“I do! I do!” Once again the flurry of hands appeared.

“Alright, how many of you know the bowline?”

“Is that the one where the rabbit goes out the hole?” asked Darien.

“That’s right. It’s the rescue knot, the one you tie around your waist where it doesn’t slip.”