The guys I was shooting with when I found the nutting stone got a big laugh out of me walking all around the field, after we finished our limits, turning over every rock I saw. But I figured if a nice big rock like that was right there on the top there might be other good ones so I wasn't about to leave till I'd had at least a short look around. Didn't find anything other than a few flakes but I was plenty happy with the one I'd already picked up. None of them had ever looked for indian rocks in their whole lives and all had been raised as sportsmen.
My favorite piece is a crude arrowhead that a friend picked up and gave to me years ago. We'd been duck hunting together on the point of Little Grassy Lake where my childhood Boy Scout camp was located and he spotted it in the mud on the shore. How many Order of the Arrow ceremonies had I participated in near that same spot? And to know that there had really been indians camped in the same place at one time made that rough flint point a really special one to me.
Destry
