A link to a fascinating story, germane to this thread as well:
Lion and a knife
I saw a picture of the knife, it looked a lot like an Old Hickory butcher-type knife in design, with more of a spear point. Here's a drawing of it:
Knife
Read the article, wow now thats a tough guy!
This is not a knife link or specifically related to this topic but that story reminded me of another story of human toughness
http://www.sixguns.com/bunkhouse/elmer_keith.htm
specifically this part- (Excerpt) Elmer Keith:1899-1984,By John Taffin
"In 1911, Elmer was burned terribly in a hotel fire in Missoula, Montana, and carried scars for the rest of his life. An ordinary man would have died from the fire. His entire body was covered with burns and his chin was "welded" to his right shoulder with his left hand turned upside down on the back of his left wrist.
Elmer recounted this: "When we moved from Missoula back to Helena I was considerable of a wreck. My left hand was just turned upside down and back on my wrist, just a claw extended from the top of my wrist. I used to wrap a towel around it when Father sent me to school so the girls wouldnt cringe at the sight of it. The right side of my face was all drawn down towards my shoulder, also. I was a horrible looking sight.
I told Father I had to have a left hand so I could hold a rifle and do normal things. Father contacted every doctor in Helena to try to get them to operate on the hand and break it over and straighten it out. None of them would tackle the job. They all said I would never live to be 21 anyway and they were not going to torture me any further.
Finally, I had had enough of going with only one hand, so I asked Dad if he would break it. Mother said, "Can you stand it?" I said, "I dont know, but you can go ahead and do it anyway."
So mother got a bunch of cotton bats and gauze, soaked them in melted deer tallow, and had a lot of bandages ready. Father went down to Goodkinds wholesale liquor store and bought a gallon of Old Granddad, 100 proof, and came home with it.
He said, "Son, do you still want to go through with it?" I said, "I do." I said "Regardless of how much I howl or pass our or whatever, get the job done. I want this hand straight whether Ill ever be able to use it or not."
After Elmers Dad got him good and drunk, Elmer went on the say: "Dad put my arm on a heavy table and sat down on it with my hand between his legs. When he picked up those fingers that were doubled back of my wrist and broke them, the pain was terrific and I passed out. Father took a board he used for stretching mink and sanded it until it was smooth and slick as glass and would reach from my elbow out past my fingers. When I came to, my hand was straight. It was all laced down solid to the mink board."
Elmers dad had a dozed buckskin gloves made to fit his left hand, and for the next two years, Elmer wore a glove with melted deer tallow in it and forced himself to use that hand.
"In this way, I finally made a new left hand, but it was a long struggle. At first, I could hold it up to the light and see daylight between the bones right down to the palm of my hand. After a couple of years working with it every time I could and also riding broncs and pulling on the rope with that hand, I finally wound up with a pretty good hand. Even today, its a sorry looking hand, but its useful, and for a time, I even did two gun demonstrations with sixguns."
