Davy Crockett’s Trustworthy Tale of an Extraordinary Encounter With a Bear... Ken Gosse

From the Horse’s Mouth:

“This testament, written both faithful and true

by the great-great-great grandson of someone who knew

an acquaintance who heard the renowned raconteur

humbly telling his story (sans hint of grandeur).

His birthplace, a bend in the Old Nolichucky—

“The King of the Wild Frontier” from Kentucky.

The soldier, frontiersman, and statesman avowed

to the rabid attention of those in the crowd

at the inn where they gathered to listen and drink,

so attentive that not even one dared to blink

at this one-hundredth telling of such a wild tale

that it’s not been surpassed by the captain’s white whale.

His story:

A stare brought a bear to its knees

while the woodsman stood still, just as calm as you please.

This testament is, as I started to say,

an authentic account of his words on that day

with two verses appended, which seemed to be needed

because, as you’ll see, it was never completed.”

[The author’s unknown and the date isn’t clear,

besmudged by drunk fingers which read it each year.]

Where the Legend Began:

It was back by the old Nolichucky

where I met a huge bear who was plucky.

I froze with a stare

till he wandered from there,

and I reckoned that I was quite lucky.

How the Legend Took Root:

They say that I spoke to the bear.

To be honest, I don’t really care.

What crazy suggestions—

don’t ask a bear questions!

That’s not how I got out of there.

How the Legend Grew:

While wand’ring our western frontier,

I heard more of my story each year—

the tale of a b’ar

who had wandered so far

from the Nantucket home he held dear.

How the Legend was Preserved:

Once I gathered each piece that I could,

I decided time spent would be good

in rehearsing the tale—

they’re a great trade for ale!

Here it is, far as I’ve understood:

The Bucket’s Gist:

There once was a bear with a bucket

who wintered outside of Nantucket.

The lair was quite bare

but a bucket was there

and a blanket, beneath which he’d tuck it.

An Innocent Beginning:

The bear took a nap on a hill,

where he frightened some poor Jack and Jill.

’Twas not his intent,

but downhill they both went,

and the bucket would need a refill.

Davy Sings the Blues:

Jack and Jill went up the hill

to fetch a pail of water.

A bear was there

and scared the pair!

They lost the pail Jack bought her.

The Best Laid Plan of Bear and Man:

A bucket and bear but no plan

(and no palindrome—search all you can).

“But what good would it do?”

“Why, of course! Hunter stew.”

So he took it back home to his clan.

Strange Encounters of the Frontier Kind:

While heading back home from Kentuck,

the bear worried he’d run outta luck

and meet Davy there

who would give him “The Stare!”

then he’d say, “That’s a pail, ain’t it, Huck?”

The Way to a Bear’s Heart:

So this big dumb ol’ bear with a pail

came up with an int’resting tale

’bout a man from Nantucket

who’d just filled the bucket.

Nice snack with a chaser of ale.

A Rumor Can Outrun a Bear:

“There once was a man from Kentucket

who stared down a b’ar with a bucket.

Dave said to him, ‘Smokey,

perhaps this sounds lokey:

Did you eat a man from Nantucket?’”

Chug-a-Lug, Chug-a-Lug:

That’s where his narration suspended—

a tad short of where he intended.

Each verse meant a slug

must be shared from a jug

till the speaker and fans were upended.

What Happened Next:

Though the answer, delectably gory,

became part of the bear’s repertory,

the great storyteller

Dave Crockett, fine feller,

ne’er told us the rest of the story.