Fragments From Floyd

After speaking with Andrew and having failed to come up with any wildlife for his cameras, I commenced to thinking about this as we took our afternoon walk. It occurred to me that there are still some in these parts that hunt bear in the old ways. I remembered reading Horace Kephardt's account of bear hunts in what are now, due in large part to his efforts, the Smoky Mountains National Park. Those were some rugged and determined and very hungry men back then.

Funny. Their modern-day counterparts use four-wheelers and GPS collars on their dogs. The bears don't stand much of a chance. The remaining black bear are already in great hardship to find mates, find food and avoid man and his noise, roads and houses in what used to be their territory alone.

Most folks my age--maybe especially the guys--will think back to their earliest bear memories and bring up ol' Davy. He killed him a bar when he was only three. And Mr. Crockett continued to spin and broadcast his tall tales even when he was running for Congress from the state of Tennessee. Take for instance this part of his long, rambling bear-hunting story:

"I suffered very much that night with cold, as my leather breeches, and every thing else I had on, was wet and frozen. But I managed to get my bear out of this crack after several hard trials, and so I butchered him, and laid down to try to sleep. But my fire was very bad, and I couldn't find any thing that would burn well to make it any better; and I concluded I should freeze, if I didn't warm myself in some way by exercise. So I got up, and hollered a while, and then I would just jump up and down with all my might, and throw myself into all sorts of motions. But all this wouldn't do; for my blood was now getting cold, and the chills coming all over me. I was so tired, too, that I could hardly walk; but I thought I would do the best I could to save my life, and then, if I died, nobody would be to blame. So I went to a tree about two feet through, and not a limb on it for thirty feet, and I would climb up it to the limbs, and then lock my arms together around it, and slide down to the bottom again. This would make the insides of my legs and arms feel mighty warm and good. I continued this till daylight in the morning, and how often I clomb up my tree and slid down I don't know, but I reckon at least a hundred times."