“Say ‘’nough’?” panted Abe. But Crockett had no breath to speak. He moved his head in a weary gesture of assent. The Indiana boy unwound his legs and got up, stiffly, reaching out a hand to the defeated bear-hunter. Crockett stumbled to his feet and stood feeling gingerly of his ribs. “Yuh-yuh--you keep the b’ar!” he gasped when enough of his wind returned, and a sort of rueful grin wrinkled his leather-brown face. The wrestlers were both in such perfect condition that they were soon feeling as fit as ever. Abe turned from his playful mauling of the bear cub to speak to his late opponent. “We didn’t say, at the start-off, whether this yere match was one fall or best two out o’ three,” he said. “What say--want to try another?” “No, sir,” replied the hunter promptly. “That’s mighty square of you, but I reckon I know when I’m beat. I’ve wrastled with plenty o’ good ones an’ never been thrown till now. But I never tackled a feller as strong as you, nor as long. All arms an’ legs--iron legs, at that. “Wal, boys,” he cried, “what are ye--hungry? How ’bout some b’ar steak, cooked fresh, Injun fashion?” The sun was getting low and all of the flatboat hands had good appetites. They went to work with a will, therefore, brought in dry wood by the armful, and soon were broiling the meat on green sticks over a hot fire. It was Tad’s first taste of bear, and he was not at all sure he liked it at the start. But soon he was eating it like the rest, with gusto. Allen brought a pan and some cups down from the boat, and they finished with a round of tea. Crockett smacked his lips over the steaming beverage. “Boy, howdy!” said he. “I ain’t had a cup fer close to a month. This b’ar-huntin’ is a good trade, but it makes ye give up a lot o’ refinements. “Ye know,” he said, and hesitated, blushing a little, “I was up to Washington fer the last term o’ Congress--sent up to represent the folks in this part o’ Tennessee. But I never could git accustomed to city ways. I’d git to feelin’ jest about starved fer a mess o’ b’ar’s meat every once in so often. An’ it’s the same way now I’m back home here, roamin’ through the woods an’ the canebrake; I git a hankerin’ sometimes fer jelly-cake an’ tea. “Ever thought about goin’ in fer politics, Longshanks?” It was Abe’s turn to blush. “I’ve thought about a heap o’ things,” he answered gruffly. “Politics, fer one, because I like to make speeches an’ get a crowd to listen to me. What I’d like to be most, though, is a good lawyer.” Allen haw-hawed loudly at this confession, but Davy Crockett listened with respect. “I’ll wager you’ll git thar,” he nodded. “Though I don’t hold much with lawyers, myself. They’re too slick--always up to some crooked business.” Abe warmed up at once. “That’s exactly the reason,” said he. “I want to be a good enough lawyer to beat some o’ the smart ones at their own game. A good lawyer kin be a powerful lot o’ help to folks that’s in trouble.”