Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Indian Artifacts

just keep yer eyebulbs peeled.....

a few family heirlooms.

Wow

Dug a post hole, placed the post in, started shoveling dirt and heard a clink on the shovel head.

I see a field full of postholes in your future....

I used to find them often when I was a kid, then I got too tall.

It's been years now since I've found one.

Too tall, get down on hands and knees or crouch

A couple of times while crouched planting seeds in a garden I have found them.

roundoak, you spurred me into getting out and looking again. Found a broken tip and a handful of chips. We've had some good rain the last month, so I may get out more, and see if anything else has worked up...

That one is interesting. It appears the knapping process got of control or a buffalo stepped on it.

crude scraper

Huntsman

Have you worked the topsoil at all where you find these?

I harrowed a piece about 60x100 feet, but most are found along a half mile of bluff along a creek bottom.

Do you feel the presence of spirits there?

I have had a couple individuals ask me that question after I finished my indian artifact presentation at genealogical society meetings.

Not so much the spook, but the hair does stand up on the back of my neck sometimes at my 'springs' field. There is just tons of stuff there. Cannot take a step without seeing a handful of flakes and heat-treated chert.

The wind seems to make the cottonwoods rustle more than the perceived felt breeze.

I hunt artifacts almost exclusively solo. Could be the psyche. Can't help but think I am walking in a site that was occupied for thousands of years based on point type and by a large population, based on the sheer volume of items I have found there.

Would love the tear up jack out there with a Bobcat.

That's pretty cool Huntsman...somebody sat for a long time on your piece of ground.

Is your 1/2 mile special, or could your neighbors expect to find stuff on either side of your place.?

The bluff north of me looks real good. That neighbor won't let me come over and play.

Metate.

Crafted and cared for by Ancient hands.

The women who ground cornmeal on this have been dust for hundreds of years.


I found it this morning, surfacing out of the edge of an arroyo next to one of our milo fields. I like to think the vermilion color of the seed heads comes from the vanished blood of ghostly buffalo......but then I probably spend too much time alone in open country. (Which would also explain why sometimes I think the original owners of lost objects lead you to them.)