Gifts from the Grandfathers

Yesterday was a gift of a day. Went catfishing in the Ohio, and caught a few. Got home in time to see Jr. end his 76 race losing streak. After we dropped the grandson off, we decided to swing through the bottoms, and check out one of our favorite artifact hunting grounds. It was about 7 p.m. when we parked the truck. It was hot and muggy and not a breath of wind stirring. The moon was already up, even though it wasn't close to getting dark. The deep thrumming of a tow making it's way upriver was the only man-made noise to be heard. We set out for a spot about a third of the way down the huge field, and intended to turn around and search back to the truck more slowly. On the way there, though, I found a perfect thumb scraper. Made it worth it to me right off. My companion told me I was going too slow. I told him to turn around and look back my way. The field was covered with lithic scatter, glinting in the slanting sunlight. He was not to be deterred, so we proceeded down the field. We turned back and began hunting slowly. Believe it or not, it is more difficult to hunt in a field with a lot of scatter, because you can't possibly turn up every piece. In a bit, a pic of the day's best finds. But first a report of my companion's uncanny luck when artifact hunting. We had made our way back to the area I wanted to hunt in the first place. I told him to look, that there was scatter in a wide spot of this part of the field. As soon as he headed off, he found the dark point in the photo, with just the tip gone. As he was walking toward me to show me the large scraper, I found the light gray point, with only about a third of the side of it exposed. Turned a good day into a great day.



We both feel honored when the grandfathers allow us to connect with them through things they left behind. We separate again, and in a couple of minutes I hear him say, "I don't know, this must be somethin modern..." and he heads over to me. I am the walkin, talkin, field guide on artifacts. He is the one who is shit-house lucky, and finds these things, and comes to me for the answers. He was holdin it up, but I could only see part of it. From the color and shape at a distance, I asked if it was plastic. By that time he had reached me and I could hear the unmistakable sound when he ran it across his teeth. He handed it to me, and I immediately recognized what it is. After a few good-natured comments on his aforementioned shit-house luck, I tell him what he has found. It is what remains of a bannerstone, made from blood quartz. It's called a butterfly bannerstone, rare for the shape, and rarer for the material from which it is made. Here is a close-up:



The bannerstone is translucent.



Often stones made from this material were completely finished, except for the drilling. Quartz and quartzite are extremely hard to drill. Especially considerin they did it with hollow river cane and grains of sand. On the inside of the hole you can see the lines left from the drilling. This pic is as good as I could get with the digital.



To think that we were the first folks to hold and admire this in 5000 years or so is truly a reverential feeling. It is a spiritual experience that is hard to describe. To think that the damage may have been done by modern day farming machinery, by uncaring folks is a whole nother kinda feeling, but I won't go into that. This was made by what I would consider a master craftsman, for someone of special status. There are various theories of the purpose of these artifacts and you can find them on the web. I just hope the Grandfathers are happy that is now in a place where it will be revered and honored, as I revere and honor them.