Dog and Devil Cows Along the SHADOWS on the TRAIL

Figure One - Sheila, my nemesis, the orange and white Corriente cow 
that first attacked Madd Maxx and me.

Dedicated to Madd Maxx

Born 2-28-2009

Died 6/17/2022

I wrote my prehistoric book series the SHADOWS on the TRAIL Pentalogy based on my knowledge, experience, and research in archaeology, hunting, and animal/human behavior. I have spent countless days out on the prairie and hills doing my research – finding prehistoric artifacts, watching and recording animal behavior, and creating scenarios in my head, such as the one below, taken from the second book of the pentalogy, GHOSTS of the HEART. In this scenario, hunters from the Folsom tribe are trapping a herd of bison. As you might guess, that was a perilous activity. I will see you on the other side of this passage from my book GHOSTS of the HEART.       

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Chayton knelt with Hoka on top of the hill, patiently waiting for the last of the cows and calves to enter the arroyo. When the last of the tatanka [bison] entered the arroyo, he signaled a hunter on another hillside. Chayton had wanted the tatanka bull in the trap, but it was not going to happen. The hunters would just leave him alone. There was too much risk attacking the bull on the open prairie. The hunt would be more than successful with the cows and the calves. Chayton would let the last of the herd get to the wakan ya [sacred  spring] and start drinking before he signaled the attack.

“WANA! – NOW!” Chayton bellowed and the hunters sprung the trap. A hunter signaled Tah and Wiyaka who lit their torches and then raced to the arroyo with the other hunters. The hunters arrived at the wooden fence and dropped more deadwood in the gap between the two sides of the arroyo. The hunters then picked up a large log that was lying behind the fence and set it down across the top of the fence. They had sealed the herd into the arroyo, but it would take fire to hold the herd. Tah looked up and saw that the tatanka bull had already taken off running, abandoning his herd. Tah and Wiyaka threw the torches on the wooden fence and it erupted into flames. Smoke rose as the flames burned into the green sagebrush, creating a huge smokescreen. The smoke signaled Chayton and the other hunters to attack. Carrying large bundles of spears, the hunters ran up to both sides of the arroyo and began heaving spears at the unwary herd. The herd milled around the wakan ya, confused by the spears and the smoke.

A rain of spears fell on the herd from three sides of the arroyo. Spears stuck in the hides of the cows and calves as the herd panicked and attempted to climb the steep walls of the arroyo. Without a leader, the herd muddled about while more spears poured down on them from above. Finally, one of the cows ran back down the arroyo towards the entrance and the rest of the herd followed…

Dangerous business, wouldn't you agree? A prehistoric hunter severely injured by a bison was almost worse off than if he died. Depending on the severity of the injury, there may have been little the tribe could do. Analyses of injuries on prehistoric skeletons showed that medical treatment was quite limited, as one might expect. A severe injury in prehistoric times pretty much healed on its own or it did not heal. There are forensic records from prehistoric skeletons that showed that some injuries festered for years. 

Severe injuries created a burden on the tribe because now the people had to care for and feed the injured party, drawing from resources the tribe may or may not have had. Recovery from serious injuries such as broken bones took a long time if recovery ever took place in the first place. 

Figure Two - A size comparison between modern bison and Bison antiquus, the bison species that existed in my SHADOWS on the TRAIL Pentalogy.   

I experienced a traumatic event on December 3, 2016. My faithful dog Madd Maxx and I were artifact hunting on the original SHADOWS on the TRAIL prehistoric site when a herd of Corriente cattle decided they did not like sharing the pasture with Madd Maxx. An orange and white horned cow attacked Madd Maxx, lifting the hundred-pound dog off the ground with her horns. I interceded on my German Shepherd's behalf by swatting the cow between her ears with my walking stick, thinking that she would surely retreat. After all, I was a superior species. I was dead wrong. 

The orange and white horned cow rammed me in the chest with her big head. I grabbed her horns, thinking I could bulldog her. That was a laugh. I twisted back and forth on her horns and could not budge her one way or the other. That was when I realized I had another problem. The devil cow was shoving me backward across the pasture, and she was picking up speed. I recognized that this was not going to end well for me, so I let go of her horns. The devil cow ran right over the top of me. The impact of the ground and her hooves knocked the wind right out of me. That hurt and I battled to catch my breath! I staggered to my feet and before I could turn around to see where the devil cow was, she plowed into my back, knocking me to the ground on my face. I still remember the intensity of the pain as if the incident happened yesterday. I crawled away, but she was on top of me, pinning me to the ground with her head and flailing away at my sides with her horns. Thankfully, I was wearing a backpack filled with extra winter clothes. It shielded me from even more damage. The devil cow ended up destroying that backpack. I had a walking stick when I started the ordeal. She destroyed that as well. Dust rose up over the prairie as the cattle herd went on a rampage. 

While the devil cow was making mincemeat of me, I heard Madd Maxx off in the distance growling and barking and whimpering. I figured he had his own dilemma. I recall feeling relieved that my faithful dog was still alive, and I knew that if I wanted to save him, I first had to save myself. I tried to stand up and reached my knees. I yelled for help but there was no one remotely close to where we were. My shout sounded more like a whisper. Try yelling with the air crushed out of your lungs. I found out later that the devil cow had broken three of my ribs. From behind me, she knocked me flat, and I crawled on my elbows to escape. The devil cow was on top of me, clobbering me with her horns and hooves. I remember hearing her breathe in my ear and watching her horns thrash me out of my peripheral vision. I stopped trying to get away, and I wrapped my arms around my head to protect my skull from her assault. 

As a side note, I grew up in a small agricultural town in Wyoming, a state where cattle outnumber people. Every summer from junior high through college, I worked on farms and ranches, so cattle and their behavior were familiar to me. I had never seen a herd of cows in a wide-open pasture behave this way.   

Lying there in the dirt and manure with the devil cow mauling me, I was positive this was the end for me. I was going to die. I had zero doubt! I remember thinking how it would look if I "died by cow". We all have to die sometime, that is indisputable. I understand all that, but come on, death by bovine? Who would ever believe it? 

I was wheezing as my lungs pleaded for oxygen! My fractured ribs felt like someone had impaled me with a spear! While the half-ton beast held me against the ground, she gored me with her horns and stepped all over my back and legs with her sharp hooves. The burning and throbbing pain were unbearable. I was bleeding all over the pasture. I had never experienced anything like this in my entire life. 

Figure Three - Madd Maxx, my best friend, ever recuperating at home in 2017.

The orange and white devil cow was not going to be happy until I was a dead smudge on the prairie, so I decided to cooperate with her. I played dead. The horned beast pawed at me with her hooves, trying to roll me over, but I laid there on my stomach anchored to the ground with my arms wrapped tightly around my skull. Her horn ripped my pants leg from ankle to crotch. Still, I laid there. She walked all over my legs, ankles, and back. Every time she stood on me, it hurt like hell, but I did not move. I was suffocating from the dust and blood and cow manure covered me from head to toe, but I did not move. My acting eventually paid off and the devil cow left me for dead on the prairie.

As I lay there in agony, I heard Madd Maxx whining and yelping. That was a good omen, he was still alive, barely alive. With all the effort my tortured body could muster, I rose to my knees. The pain was ungodly. My mangled left leg would not straighten up. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest. I knew that if I did not move now, I would never move. I saw Madd Maxx standing in the middle of swirling cows. It reminded me of one of those old western movies where the Indians on horseback circled the wagon train. I crawled to Madd Maxx, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and dragged him away from the cows. 

Madd Maxx was in bad shape. He was bleeding heavily from his mouth and he had patches of matted bloody fur across most of his body. He was defeated. We were both defeated. We crawled to the outskirts of the herd and stopped. My entire body was in pain and I could not breathe. Every time I took a breath, my broken ribs punished my effort. I was choking on the dust, and I could not walk. I wasn't even sure I could crawl all the way to the vehicle. The shredded backpack still clung to my back by one ripped strap. Madd Maxx sat next to me, whimpering from pain.  

Then, something happened that I still cannot believe. The herd that just leveled us, lined up in front of us. The big orange and white devil cow stood five feet away from Madd Maxx and me, glaring at us while nonchalantly chewing her cud. Her eyes showed no anger or malice. I assumed she was there to finish the job. I commanded Madd Maxx to run for our vehicle and he obeyed me lickety-split, without a moment of hesitation. He limped toward the vehicle which I had earlier parked in the other pasture. He never looked back. He ran right through the gaps in the barbed wire fence, never slowing down. The wire strands popped as the big brute hit them. He was safely behind barbed wire. Now, it was my turn. I wobbled to my feet, screaming bloody murder because of the intensity of the pain. The orange and white demon lowered her head and plowed into me, slamming me to the ground. That was when I blacked out.  

I have no idea how long I laid in that pasture. I lost track of time. When I woke up, I was hurting and freezing. The air temperature had dropped dramatically. After all, this was northern Colorado in December. Severely injured, I would never survive a night out on the prairie. I crawled to the vehicle, oftentimes stopping to let the pain subside. I dragged my mangled left leg behind me. I opened the back hatch of the SUV and Madd Maxx struggled to get in. It took me a while to get behind the wheel of the vehicle. I thought seriously about driving myself to the hospital some seventy-five miles away, but the pain was too much so I took my chances and drove to the ranch house. I had no idea whether the ranchers were home or not. The sun was low in the southwestern sky. I remember I wore sunglasses and as I drove to the ranch house, I noticed that one of the lenses was missing. The odd things a person remembers. I honked my horn to alert the ranchers, opened the driver's door, and collapsed onto the ground. They called for help and covered me with blankets. My main concern was getting help for Madd Maxx. I did not want him to die.   

A local volunteer fire/rescue crew showed up. Laying prostrate, I asked one of the firemen if he had anything for my pain. He told me they were not authorized to carry medications. I should have known that since I was a volunteer firefighter. I heard the ranch foreman speaking in an almost whisper to a fireman. He was describing to the fireman how much blood there was in the pasture. It sounded like he was describing a murder scene. He did not realize I was listening. An hour or so later I heard a helicopter circling the ranch house, searching for a place to land. The paramedics transported me to the landing zone in some kind of vehicle and then jetted me off to a respected trauma center in Colorado. I ended up with three broken ribs; internal bleeding; bruised and damaged lungs, liver, and kidneys; and a leaky adrenal gland. The lower half of my body was heavily bruised and swollen beyond recognition. I had several deep contusions on both legs where the cow stepped on me repeatedly. My teeth were loose (I eventually lost one of them). Every muscle in my body screamed out in pain. It took well over a month for me to graduate from a walker to a cane. 

Thanks to my wife Theresa and the ranch foreman, Madd Maxx ended up in an animal emergency room for treatment of serious cuts and bruises and broken teeth, but no broken bones.  

I hate to admit it, but Madd Maxx and I were very lucky. 

It could have been a lot worse.    

Figure Four - While the orange and white demon cow mauled me, the

other cows fought with Madd Maxx. This is what Madd Maxx contended with. 

I had a first-hand experience of the danger of large prey animals, even if they were “domesticated cattle”. Would I have survived these injuries twelve thousand years ago without Flight for Life or excellent care at a leading trauma center? Doubtful. If I survived, I would have been a burden to the tribe. I took this experience and wrote about it in my most recent prehistoric thriller, CROW and the CAVE, the fourth book in my prehistoric adventure series the SHADOWS on the TRAIL Pentalogy. Check out the book series and see what life was like over twelve thousand years ago.   

By the way, here is some sage advice,  

Stay away from devil cows!      

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SHADOWS ON THE TRAIL TRILOGY - No Snowflakes in this Ice Age Tale

Figure One - prehistoric human stalking a bison.

I am reading in the media about all the snowflakes in our population who are melting down because of the U.S. presidential election and I cannot believe it. These people are requiring safe zones, aroma therapy, pet therapy, hot cocoa, and school test delays. They are protesting and based on media interviews, some of the protesters aren't quite sure why they are protesting. Crazy world. When did the human race get so much spare time and leisure time that we don't have to work for our bread? 

When I think about these snowflakes in our population, they remind me of my characters in the SHADOWS ON THE TRAIL TRILOGY, not that there is any resemblance between the snowflakes and the tough characters in my books. Ten thousand plus years ago when the SHADOWS ON THE TRAIL TRILOGY took place, prehistoric humans did not have the luxury or time to think about anything that did not have to do with surviving another day. Weakness did not survive in human or beast. After all, in the late Pleistocene, there were large mammals attempting to use my characters as a food supply and my characters were in a daily struggle just to find enough food to survive. In addition, my characters had to worry about the hostile bands of humans roaming the countryside. There were no policemen or hospitals or dialing 911 for my characters. They were on their own without the hot cocoa or aroma therapy. The only thing between my characters and death was a well placed stone spear point.  

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Below is a passage from the second book in the trilogy entitled GHOSTS OF THE HEART.  In this particular passage, some very bad people just attacked our hero Chayton and wounded him in the shoulder with a stone projectile point from a spear. Since these bad people wanted to kill him and his friend Wiyaka, Chayton did not have time for a 'woe is poor me' or to reflect on anything except the life-or-death predicament they were in.  Chayton was critically wounded and the bad people had NOT given up the chase. Here is what happened when Chayton and Wiyaka finally got a break from running away.   

Before the sunset in the west, Chayton and Wiyaka made it out of the mountains and onto the foothills. Wiyaka found a safe place for them to camp near a small spring-fed pond. Chayton collapsed on the ground, sick and exhausted. Wiyaka went to the pond and filled up their water pouches. When he returned, Wiyaka woke Chayton up, telling him, “Sit up! I want to look at your shoulder.”

Wiyaka knelt down behind Chayton and said, “It is getting dark, turn your back to the sun.”

“Where is Namid?” Chayton asked.

“Slol wa yea shnee, – I do not know.”

“Avonaco?”

“Slol wa yea shnee, – I do not know.” 

Chayton slowly twisted his body, letting the rays of the setting sun reach his wounded shoulder. Chayton’s hide shirt was stuck to the wound with dried blood. When Wiyaka peeled the shirt away, the air exploded with hundreds of flies escaping from the festering wound. Wiyaka swatted at the dense cloud of flies, but they were not going to give up their feast easily. Wiyaka leaned closer, attempting to block the flight of the flies while he examined the wound. Wiyaka took a whiff and quickly turned his nose away. The smell of rotting flesh overcame his senses. Holding his breath, Wiyaka steadied his stomach and inspected the wound. Blood was still trickling down Chayton’s back and a whitish-yellow mass covered the wound. When Wiyaka stuck his face even closer to inspect the whitish-yellow mass, he caught another whiff of the rancid smell and turned his head away. Wiyaka’s eyes watered from the strong stench and his stomach began to heave. He held his breath once again and inspected the wound. This was too much for Wiyaka and he turned his head to the side, vomiting the contents of his almost empty stomach on the ground. When he had purged his stomach of everything in it and more, Wiyaka again tried to inspect the whitish-yellow glob that completely enveloped the wound and the surrounding area. He found that it consisted of fly eggs and when he looked closer, he saw that many of the eggs had already hatched and white maggots had taken over.

“Waglulas, – Maggots,” Wiyaka declared. “Ayabeya. – Everywhere.”   

“I yo monk pi sni, - I feel bad,” Chayton murmured.

“Your wound is bad, kola, - friend,” Wiyaka agreed.

“The River People?” Chayton mumbled. “Where are they?”

Wiyaka, his hand unsteady from nervous energy, extracted a very thin, oval-shaped stone knife from his satchel. He thumbed the edge of the knife’s blade, testing its sharpness. Then he told Chayton, “This is going to hurt, but I do not know what else to do.”

“What are you doing?” Chayton asked, his head drooping from one side to the other.

“I must rid you of the waglulas - maggots,” Wiyaka replied. “They will bring you death.”  

“Namid…,” Chayton murmured.

Wiyaka grabbed the top of Chayton’s other shoulder with his hand and then with the stone knife in his other hand, he shaved and sawed the dried blood and fly eggs from the wound area. Chayton screamed in pain as the honed edge of the knife cut into the tender nerves surrounding the wound. Wiyaka then poured water on the wound, giving Chayton time to scream out in pain. Then with the sharp stone blade, Wiyaka scraped at the wound some more. Wiyaka did this several more times until he was able to remove most of the coagulated blood, fly eggs, and maggots.  The wound hole in Chayton’s shoulder quickly filled with blood when Wiyaka reopened the wound with the knife. He needed to flush the wound to make sure the poison from the fly eggs and maggots were gone. Wiyaka hoped that he was not too late.

“Ah snee was keyn ktay, - I am going to rest,” Chayton murmured, falling over on his good side.


“Oh lou lout ah! – It is very hot!”

“Ai, – Yes, you rest,” Wiyaka replied, rising to his feet.

Wiyaka gathered dry wood and started a campfire. While the campfire heated up, Wiyaka collected a few green willow branches from along the shore of the pond. He stuck the ends of the green willow branches into the flames of the campfire, heating them up. 

 

By the way, the language spoken in the above dialogue is Lakota Sioux. I used both Lakota Sioux and Cheyenne Native American languages in the SHADOWS ON THE TRAIL TRILOGY, not because anyone knows what language the Folsom People spoke over ten thousand years ago, but I am pretty sure the language was NOT English. 
 
Nope, no snowflakes survived at the end of the Ice Age, that’s for sure. Read the SHADOWS ON THE TRAIL TRILOGY if you want to read about some really tough people. In my next blog posting I will give you an example of how really tough these prehistoric people were. Do you think you could survive?   



        

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Tang Knife in the Dumpster and SHADOWS ON THE TRAIL



Figure One - 2.7 inch long corner tang knife from Colorado 

Second Edition.  

My prehistoric book series called the SHADOWS ON THE TRAIL QUADRILOGY was inspired by a prehistoric artifact from the Folsom prehistoric culture. The artifact above and below has a story as well, but with this story I don't see a book series coming out of it. :-)  

I dubbed the 2.7 inch long corner tang knife from Colorado in the photograph above and below the “Tang Knife in the Dumpster” for good reason. Now, you can read the rest of the story.   

One Saturday in the summer of 2016, I took this magnificent corner tang knife out of its frame to study its flaking some more. After studying it, I carefully wrapped it up in bubble wrap and placed the bubble-wrapped artifact in the top drawer of my desk. There, I thought it would be safe. The next morning I planned on taking some photographs of the corner tang knife before I headed to my volunteer firefighter training session. 

Before heading to my training the next morning, I went to my desk to fetch the corner tang knife for some photographs in the morning sunlight. I looked all over the top drawer of my desk but I could not find the bubble wrap or the artifact. Well, I ran out of time and decided to do a more thorough search when I got home from training. After all, the bubble wrap did not just grow legs and walk away. Perhaps, I put it in another drawer? Off to training I went! We live in the mountains and our garbage goes into a community dumpster a couple of miles away. I loaded up several bags of garbage and dropped them off at the dumpster on my way to training.

During the entire training session all I could think about was the bubble-wrapped corner tang knife. Where did I stash it? I rushed home after training and scoured all of the likely spots I might have placed it. Nothing. My search came up empty. My wife had one of her girlfriends visiting so I asked Theresa if she had seen the bubble wrap in the top drawer of my desk. “Oh,” she replied, “I might have thrown that out.”

Figure Two - 2.7 inch long corner tang knife from Colorado

"Thrown it out?" I responded as politely as I could. 

"Maybe," she answered, nonchalantly. 

Well, we had a guest so what could I say? Panic set in as I thought about all the garbage I hauled to the dumpster. I jumped in my vehicle and raced to the dumpster. It was Saturday so everybody and their dogs were emptying their trash in the dumpster. The dumpster was packed. I jumped into the dumpster and dug through the numerous sacks of garbage looking for my sacks of trash. Does everybody use black drum liners? By now, the summer heat had turned the dumpster into an assortment of unappealing smells. Through a process of elimination, I found one of our garbage bags, and then another. I loaded the soggy garbage bags into my vehicle and drove them to our house where I could go through the garbage in our garage with some privacy. I had a real fun time. I did not find the bubble wrap or the artifact so I took the garbage back to the dumpster and jumped back into the metal container. I was going to make sure I had not missed any of our garbage bags.  

After an hour or so I gave up and went back to the house and sat down for lunch with my wife and

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her guest. After spending a couple of hours digging through garbage, lunch was not too appealing, but I tried to be social while keeping my mind off that corner tang knife. It was one of my favorites. I excused myself from lunch, telling my wife and her guest that I was heading back to the dumpster. I had a new plan. I dug through more garbage bags and did fine one of ours. In it, I found a piece of bubble wrap. Was it the bubble wrap? I did not know, but at least it was kind of a clue. Unfortunately, if it was our bubble wrap then the artifact was loose in the dumpster.  

By now, there was garbage strewn all over the dumpster. I had created garbage chaos from neatly packaged garbage bags. I needed an even better plan. There were two dumpsters sitting side by side, so I moved everyone else’s garbage to the other dumpster so all I had to look at was my own garbage. After removing most of other people's garbage, I was standing near the bottom of the dumpster, my feet planted in someone’s well-used cat litter, Flies and maggots and other assorted garbage-feasting bugs swarmed my air space or crawled across the bottom of the dumpster. My gag reflex had come off vacation and I gagged at the sight and the smells. I methodically went through each bag of my garbage, again. I found a bag of ours that I had somehow missed. I opened the bag and poured the contents onto the cat litter at the bottom of the dumpster. My eyes spotted it! Resting on top of used coffee grounds was the corner tang knife, still fully intact. I stared at it for an instant, thinking it might be a mirage. I picked it up and rubbed the coffee grounds from it. It was real and that's the story of the Tang Knife in the Dumpster”.  


You can begin my four book prehistoric adventure series with the first book in the series SHADOWS ON THE TRAIL. This was also the first book I ever wrote. Click the link below to join my adventure.    


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What Is That Gunk on My Rock?

Figure One - Side B of a 4.1-inch-long discoidal biface made from Alibates agatized dolomite. 
Pedogenic carbonate dominates this side, indicating this was the "down" position in the soil. 

For those of you who do not know the inspiration for my prehistoric adventure book series, the SHADOWS ON THE TRAIL Pentalogy, this is the story. It all began on an early summer morning in 2010 on a northern Colorado ranch. I discovered a prehistoric stone tool made from a red and gray striped rock created in a well-known prehistoric rock quarry in the Panhandle of Texas (figures one and two). After studying the flaking patterns on the artifact and based on other Paleoindian artifacts I found on that site, I concluded that it most likely came from the mysterious Folsom Complex around 12,600 years ago, give or take a century or two. 

Figure Two. Side A of the 4.1-inch-long discoidal biface. Side A is not showing as much pedogenic carbonate as Side B. Side A was the original side "up" in the ground.  

When I found that prehistoric stone tool, I recognized the distinctive rock type at once, and I knew the rock's source was Texas. So, what was Alibates agatized dolomite doing in northern Colorado? My mind wondered about the ancient people who made the stone tool and how it ended up on a Paleoindian campsite in northern Colorado, some five hundred miles away from the famous prehistoric rock quarry.  Who made the stone tool and what was he or she like? What happened on that long journey from Texas to northern Colorado some 12,600 years ago? Since it was impossible for me to ask the Paleoindians, I wrote my own version of the trip in the SHADOWS on the TRAIL Pentalogy. 

One thing is for sure, that discoidal biface rested in that soil for a long, long time. I was surprised that some lucky dog before me did not find it, or a cow or horse hoof did not smash it to pieces. And what was all that white gunk covering its surface? Inquiring minds wanted to know. 

                             Figure Three - Book One in the Series. CLICK to ORDER.

The white stuff is called pedogenic (secondary) carbonate and it is mostly CaCO₃ or calcium carbonate. How does pedogenic carbonate end up on artifacts, rocks, and geological features? I am glad you asked. Pedogenic carbonation occurs when rainwater mixes with carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. Together they form a diluted carbonic acid or H₂CO₃ in the soil. That weak acidic mixture dissolves other minerals in the soil and yields water-soluble calcium carbonate, bicarbonate, and other salts capable of precipitating onto other rocks and minerals when groundwater conditions permit it. 

Figures four and five are photographs of a Paleoindian ultrathin knife form where pedogenic carbonate completely took over one side of the artifact. The Paleoindian who made that knife form used obsidian as the raw material. In figure four, Side B is almost completely covered with pedogenic carbonate. 

            Figure Four - Side B of a 6.5-inch-long ultrathin knife form showing extensive pedogenic carbonate, indicating that side was "stratigraphically down" in the soil. 

John Bradford Branney Collection.  

Pedogenic carbonate obviously detracts from the artifact's original beauty and has limited my ability to study the flaking patterns on Side B. I can only guess what the flaking looks like underneath the gunk that covers it. The only good thing about pedogenic carbonate is that it eliminates any doubt as to the authenticity of the artifact. As far as I know, artifact replicators and fakers have not figured out how to fake pedogenic carbonate, but I am sure they are trying their best. 

Figure Five - Side A of a 6.5-inch-long ultrathin knife form showing no or little pedogenic carbonate. Side A was "stratigraphic up" in the soil. John Bradford Branney Collection.  

A geopetal indicator is any rock feature that demonstrates the relationship of top to bottom at the time of formation or placement of the rock. An example of a geopetal indicator in the geology world is the orientation of cross-bedding in fluvial deposit. In the archaeology world, pedogenic carbonate lets us determine up or down for an artifact, bone, or feature.  

Pedogenic carbonate accumulates on or between sediment grains in the soil, occluding and cementing the sediment. Pedogenic carbonate forms a geopetal structure that first accumulates on the lowest part of its host. In the case of a buried prehistoric artifact, pedogenic carbonate coats the lowest portion of the artifact first. When found, the presence of pedogenic carbonate establishes the "stratigraphic up" position for that artifact. Figure five shows the "stratigraphic up" for that ultrathin knife form. 

Where will pedogenic carbonate most likely occur? Low rainfall is the single most important factor for developing pedogenic carbonate. Low rainfall allows the formation of pedogenic carbonate deposits near the surface of the ground while heavy rainfall flushes the water-soluble salts down into the groundwater table, removing them from the sediments where we oftentimes find prehistoric artifacts.

How long does pedogenic carbonate take to affect a prehistoric artifact? That all depends on the soil and the rainfall conditions. I have Late Prehistoric artifacts that have the beginnings of pedogenic carbonate while some of my Paleoindian artifacts show no sign of pedogenic carbonate.  

Figure Six - 3.8-inch-long Clovis spearpoint completely blanketed in pedogenic carbonate on
both sides. Surface found on private land in the high desert of northern New Mexico.
The original host material is unknown. John Bradford Branney Collection.      

I have read comments from people on social media sites asking for advice on how to remove pedogenic carbonate from artifacts. Most knowledgeable collectors will reply something like, "Leave the artifact alone." Occasionally, you will find someone who believes they are smarter than Mother Nature, and he or she recommends some concoction to remove the natural deposit. As far as I know, no one has ever been successful in removing pedogenic carbonate without damaging the artifact. Pedogenic carbonate chemically bonds to the soil, sediment, and rocks. It may look like it is only a surface coating, but it is chemically bound to the crystal lattice of the rock. 

What's my bottom line? Leave pedogenic carbonate alone! If you cannot learn to love the pedogenic carbonate on your artifacts, at least respect it! Like a good marriage, pedogenic carbonate is with your artifact forever.  

  

Reflections...

I found my first "perfect arrow point" when I was nine years old in good ole Wyoming. At the time I was playing third base on a Little League baseball team called the Merchants. I looked down at the ground between second and third bases and there was a jasper arrow point lying at my feet. Even at the ripe old age of nine, I was hooked on artifacts. Actually, I was hooked on artifacts much earlier than even nine years old. My mother inherited her father's extensive artifact collection and from age six on up, I was fascinated with those artifacts. That was six decades ago and my fascination with Prehistoric America has never left me.  

If you get a chance, read my prehistoric adventure series titled SHADOWS on the TRAIL Pentalogy. I think you will enjoy the book series. The adventures will transport you to a happy place, thousands of years in the past.         

 

F is for Flattop Chalcedony; S is For Shadows on the Trail!

Figure One. 1.8-inch-long Midland dart point I found on September 2, 1997, near Flattop Butte 
on private land in Logan County, Colorado. It was made from a pale red
Flattop chalcedony. The age is around 12,000 years plus, give or take.
John Bradford Branney Collection.  

 

Welcome to my series of articles on High Plains raw materials. In this article, I explore the raw material called Flattop chalcedony, aka Flat Top Chalcedony, Flat Top Chert, Flattop Chert, or simply FTC. Flattop chalcedony is the most abundant prehistoric tool stone found by collectors in northeastern Colorado. Anyone who hunts artifacts in northeastern Colorado, the panhandle of Nebraska, or southeastern Wyoming finds artifacts and/or chipping debris made from Flattop chalcedony. It is nearly impossible to avoid the material when artifact hunting in those areas, especially in northeastern Colorado. What is Flattop chalcedony and where is its geological source? I will explore that and much more in my article, but first I want to take you on a little journey back in time around 12,600 years in what we now call northeastern Colorado.    

 

CLICK for WINDS OF EDEN

I took the passage in blue from my prehistoric adventure book titled WINDS of EDEN, the third book in my prehistoric saga called the SHADOWS on the TRAIL Pentalogy. This particular book passage illustrates a Paleoindian tradition called flintknapping or the making of projectile points and stone tools from specific types of rock. In that particular scene, an elderly grandfather is teaching his grandchildren how to make stone spear tips, in that case, they were making what we now call Folsom points. Since there is no archaeological evidence that North American Paleoindians used any kind of written language, we must assume that they passed along their traditions and practices from generation to generation through "word of mouth" and/or "an apprenticeship for children".  

The old man motioned for his two young grandchildren to sit down in front of him, close enough to see, but far enough away to avoid flying pieces of sharp rock. The old man readjusted the flat rock with the tip of the spear point. He then carefully positioned the groove in the antler punch with the tiny knob at the base of the spear point. When everything was to his liking, the old man picked up the heavy antler hammer and took a couple of practice swings in the air. The old man then held the antler hammer above the antler punch and swung down with enough force to transfer energy from the antler punch through the rock. The rock popped loudly and when the old man lifted up the spear point for the children to see, a flute or groove ran longitudinally up the entire length of the spear point. The children laughed as if they just witnessed great magic. Their eyes were as big as the moon as they looked around at each other. The old man gazed around at the children, smiling. The old man was proud of the flute in the spear point and relieved that he could still do it. However, what made him the happiest was passing down the fluting tradition to the next generation of the tribe.

WINDS of EDEN and the rest of my books in the SHADOWS on the TRAIL Pentalogy mix in evidence from high plains archaeology while chronicling the lives and challenges of my fictional protagonists, the Folsom People. In the books, my heroes and heroines journey across what we now call Texas, Colorado, and Wyoming and encounter many challenges that test both grit and survival. 

Figure Two - 1.36-inch long Folsom dart point made from a typical, semi-translucent Flattop chalcedony. I surface found this 12,600-year-old artifact on private land in Weld County,
Colorado on August 30, 2007. The source of the material at Flattop Butte is 
approximately twenty miles from where I found this Folsom point. 
John Bradford Branney Collection.  

The highest quality stone for making projectile points and stone tools comes from different forms of quartz. Quartz is composed of silica and oxygen, the two most common elements on the planet. Quartz has many flavors and crystal structures and can differ in color, texture, and minor chemical elements. In this article, I explore one variety of quartz favored by prehistoric people for thousands of years called Flattop chalcedony. Chalcedony is a general term describing a fine-grained or cryptocrystalline variety of quartz with a texture varying between waxy and grainy. Chalcedony ranges from nearly opaque to translucent and is found in a variety of colors including white, gray, blue, brown, red, and every shade in between. Some other rock types that fall under the chalcedony family include agate, moss agate, onyx, sardonyx, prase, and chrysoprase. 

Figure Three - Prehistoric rock quarry at Flattop Butte in northern Colorado. The butte lies on
private land and is now closed to visitors. The new owners prosecute trespassers.
Photographed by the author in August 2001 when the land was still accessible.

For thousands and thousands of years, Paleoindians and later prehistoric people visited what we now call Flattop Butte in Logan County, Colorado (figure three). There, those prehistoric people mined chalcedony from veins within the butte. Flattop Butte is composed of tuffaceous siltstone, sandstone, and thin limestone stringers in what is called the White River Group of geological formations. The rocks that comprise Flattop Butte were originally deposited as sediments sometime between thirty-four and twenty-three million years ago in the Oligocene Epoch.    

So, what were the high plains of northeastern Colorado like during the Oligocene Epoch? The landscape was a whole lot different than it looks today (figure four)! For one thing, the climate was a whole lot hotter, and prior to the Oligocene Epoch in the Paleocene and Eocene Epochs, the landscape went through a long period of exposure and erosion. Then, at the beginning of the Oligocene, volcanic activity in the Absaroka-Yellowstone area spewed vast amounts of silica-rich volcanic ash into the air. Massive amounts of sedimentation filled in the previous highs and lows of the earlier topography and created a terrain of very low relief with meandering streams and wide floodplains. Geological evidence indicates that during the Oligocene there was massive flooding which laid down thick layers of mud and sand and volcanic ash which later consolidated into tuffaceous sandstones, siltstones, shales, and limestones.

Figure Four  - Mural of the Early Oligocene on the high plains 
by Jay Matternes for National Geographic Magazine.
Note the volcanic activity in the background.   

The high plains and mountains went through a long period of aggradation over several million years where sediments spilled out of the mountains onto the plains. Aggradation occurs when the supply of sediment is greater than the amount of material that the depositional system is capable of transporting. Large amounts of sediment clogged the river systems and increased the elevation of the high plains during the Oligocene. Even today, some mountains in Wyoming and Colorado have a partial blanket of Oligocene sediments. 

The depiction of life and landscape in figure four shows that strange and extinct animals were abundant during the Oligocene Epoch and bits and pieces of fossilized bone are commonly found in eroded geological formations. Many of the fossilized bones are separated from the original skeletons and show evidence of rodent gnawing, providing further evidence of a terrestrial depositional environment. 

   

Figure Five - 1.6-inch-long James Allen dart point surface found on private land near 

Flattop Butte in northeastern Colorado. The material is a semi-translucent, pale red

Flattop chalcedony. The age of the artifact is north of 9000 years.  

John Bradford Branney Collection.   

How did the chalcedony form at Flattop Butte? Sand, silt, volcanic ash, and limestone were deposited and consolidated into bedrock at the site. Saturated with silica, groundwater seeped into the fractures and voids within the geological formation. Where did that silica come from? Most likely from the volcanic ash that spewed from volcanoes to the northwest and covered the countryside for hundreds of miles with thick blankets of ash. Then, when the groundwater in the nooks and crannies of the bedrock evaporated, it left behind a silica precipitate. Over thousands or millions of years, silicate minerals filled the voids within the bedrock, leaving veins of chalcedony.  

Around thirteen or fourteen or maybe fifteen thousand years ago, humans showed up at Flattop Butte. How they discovered the tool stone at the summit is anyone's guess. Perhaps, those First Americans noticed chalcedony on the surface of the ground and when they needed more, they mined the top of the butte creating pits everywhere. Greiser (1983) documented over two hundred mine pits on top of Flattop Butte where it appears prehistoric people dug through the caprock in pursuit of the treasured tool stone. 

Figure Six- Piles of Flattop chalcedony chipping debris at a prehistoric campsite 

on private land in the vicinity of Flattop Butte. The author took this 

photograph on April 2, 2014. 

Hoard et al (1993) described a typical piece of Flattop chalcedony as lavender gray with a dull luster and small white inclusions. Lavender and gray are the two most prominent colors and can range from opaque to semi-translucent with the semi-translucent pieces having the smoothest texture. Flattop chalcedony colors range from white, gray, brown, lavender, pink (what I call pale red), and reddish purple. Figure six is a photograph I took at a prehistoric campsite near Flattop Butte. The photograph exhibits the wide range of colors and textures found in Flattop chalcedony chipping debris.  

The Paleoindians in my book series were nomadic hunters and gatherers. Archaeological evidence points out that Paleoindians led simple but dangerous lifestyles. The Paleoindian characters in my books were always on the move chasing the biggest meal ticket around, roaming bison herds. Since Paleoindians were traveling about and exploring new territories, they did not know what to expect so they carried some of their favorite raw materials with them. If a need for a new projectile point or tool popped up, they would have enough material from their last stop to meet an emergency. And even if they did not use the raw material themselves, they could trade it along the trail to other humans for something of equal value. 

As a lifelong artifact hunter, it is not uncommon for me to find stone tools or projectile points, or chipping debris originating at rock quarries from other geographical locations. There are tons of archaeological evidence that indicates that Paleoindians and even later prehistoric cultures utilized hoarding and a "have material, will travel" strategy. 

Figure Six - Clovis spear/knife form surface found on private land in Keith County, Nebraska 

by Kevin Hammond. Was the material sourced from Flattop Butte or another 

White River chalcedony source in Nebraska or South Dakota? Chemical 

analysis of the material could determine that.    

John Bradford Branney Collection.  

As an example of that strategy, Hoard et al (1993) determined through chemical analysis that several artifacts from the Eckles Clovis site in north central Kansas were chalcedony sourced from Flattop Butte in Logan County, Colorado, some two hundred eighty miles to the northwest. In my lifelong pursuit of artifacts, I have found artifacts and chipping debris made of Flattop chalcedony in Wyoming, at least two hundred miles away from the source at Flattop Butte. However, as Hoard cautions, the White River Group of geological formations produced similar-looking chalcedonies in southeastern Wyoming, western Nebraska, and southwestern South Dakota (see figure six).    

By the end of the SHADOWS on the TRAIL Pentalogy,  my main characters arrived at a campsite near the rock quarry at Flattop Butte, and today I am still finding artifacts that they made from Flattop chalcedony.   

Figure Seven - 2.3 inch long, Pelican Lake knife form made from what I 
call a very pale orange, semi-translucent Flattop chalcedony. I surface 
found this artifact on 9/27/1986 in Weld County, Colorado.
The age is Late Archaic at around 2000 and 3000 years old.
John Bradford Branney Collection.  

Greiser, S. 

1983    A Preliminary Statement About Quarrying at Flattop Mesa. Southwestern Lore 49-(4): 6-14.  

Hoard, Robert J., John R. Bozell, Steven R. Holen, Michael D. Glascock, Hector Neff, and J. Michael Elam

1993    Source Determination of White River Group Silicates from Two Archaeological Sites in the Great Plains. American Antiquity. Vol. 58, No. 4 (Oct. 1993), pp. 698-710 (13 pages). Cambridge University Press. 

Recollections...

In my early years of high school, I began contemplating what I would do for the rest of my life. Since rock star was out because I did not even play a musical instrument, I looked at other options. My parents and I conversed on this subject several times. I mentioned to them that I really wanted to be an archaeologist. After all, my passion for hunting arrowheads started about the same time I learned to walk. A family friend in Casper, Wyoming was a consulting geologist in the oil and gas industry. My parents knew that their geologist friend did pretty well for himself and his family, so they suggested to me that while I might find a bit of fame digging up bison bones as an archaeologist, I would never find fortune doing that. My parents convinced me that people would always need oil and gas and coal, and with the money I made in those industries, I could retire early and hunt for prehistoric artifacts to my heart's content. I took their advice and they were right. 

My prehistoric adventures from the SHADOWS on the TRAIL PENTALOGY are available at John Bradford Branney Books.