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| Yeah. That's what he did, according to legend. As much as I admire the man though, I have serious doubts about the veracity of this particular legend. Oh I believe he killed plenty of bears in his day. And I believe he killed a bear without his gun. I just have a different vision of how it may have happened. It happened in the spring of the year probably. Bears weren't all awake good from hibernating all winter. But some of them were out wandering around trying get their "bearings." Early one Saturday morning, on his day off, Daniel was hanging around the kitchen getting in the little wife's way. He had finished off the second pot of coffee and probably needed to go out in the woods anyway. Mrs. Boone had an idea that would keep Daniel out of the house for a while. "Dan, honey," she said in a buttery-smooth voice that caught his attention immediately. "Dan, honey, while you're out there taking care of business, will you stroll around a little bit and pick me a nice bouquet of violets?" "Violets?" the pioneer, he-man asked, just a tad irritated. The very idea of THE Daniel Boone picking violets in the woods on his day off. What would the fellers down to the settlement say if they found out? "Yes, dumplin, I'm having the girls over for bridge tomorrow, and a nice big bouquet of violets would add a nice scent to the room. Don't you think?" "Well I reckon so, sweetheart, but don't you usually pick the flowers for the family?" "Sure, darlin," she said batting her eyes and adjusting her cleavage a bit. "But if you'd do this one tiny little favor for me . . . well maybe we could send the kids over to the neighbor's this afternoon while we take a little nap," she continued still bouncing her cleavage, arranging everything just so. Now Daniel Boone was big. He was tuff. He was crude. But he wasn't stupid. He got the picture. He got the picture so vividly that he marched right out into the woods and forgot his musket, leaving it standing in the corner along with his hunting knife. He was so excited about his afternoon nap with the missus, that he went unarmed out into the wild. You never saw a backwoodsman picking violets with such obvious glee. The violets were especially beautiful and plentiful that year, and Daniel was actually enjoying the activity. Suddenly, he sensed he was being watched. He slowly looked up, careful not to make any sudden moves that could endanger him further. Standing not more than six feet from him was a big, sleepy bear. It isn't recorded in folklore, but I suspect the bear was puzzled too, seeing THE Daniel Boone, without his trusty musket and hunting knife, down on his hands and knees picking violets. Well, the bear and Daniel were both so surprised that they just stood frozen, staring at each other. It was a tense situation, the gravity of which was not lost on either Daniel or the sleepy bear. Finally, Daniel hit upon an idea, figuring that the bear was still groggy from a long winter's sleep and most likely very hungry. Daniel slowly held out his bouquet of violets toward the bear as far as he could reach, hoping the bear would get the idea to eat them instead of him. You don't get to be a folklore hero without being lucky, and this was Daniel Boone's lucky day in more ways than one. Would you believe that he encountered the one black bear in 10 million that is acutely allergic to violets? Well he did. The bear began sneezing uncontrollably, nearly going into convulsions. Daniel, all in a single motion, stood and leaped toward the bear grabbing it by the throat and choking it to death in an instant. Figuring he had enough violets by now, Daniel picked up the scattered violets from the ground. Holding a bouquet of violets in one hand and dragging a dead bear with the other, he headed on back up to house. The missus seeing Daniel trudging up the trail toward the house with the violets and the bear shouted, "Daniel Boone, how in the world did you get all those violets and a bear too? And what are you grinning so big about?" "Darlin, you'll never believe it. I just grinned him to death." "You're right, I don't believe it. But let me get those violets into some water before they wilt." "Hey, what about our nap?" "That'll have to wait, hon, you need to skin that bear. And the way you killed that bear? I'll just let that be our little secret, darlin." HLG |
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| Harvey
L. Gardner is an author, syndicated columnist, and speaker. Tantalizing Trivialities is a mixture
of fun, frivolity, nostalgia, inspiration, humor, love, marriage, tall tales, work, and other
absurdities. He lives in White House, Tennessee. Your comments, suggestions, and inquiries are
welcome. Email: Harvey@HarveyGardner.com © 2004, Harvey L. Gardner |
