Outdoor Life - - HUNTING - A.G. Rus­sell

My story should be called “Found, Then Lost.”

In the Cal­i­for­nia deer sea­son, back in the late ‘50s, Fred Hoy and I were hunting black­tails in the Salmon-trin­ity Alps. In three sea­sons, we never heard a shot that was not fired by one of our own party. We would al­ways go in as far as the fire-con­trol roads would al­low, then hike a few miles up to a cirque lake near the moun­tain­top, where we’d catch trout for break­fast every morn­ing. The first day of the sea­son, I shot a buck, and we had to run down­hill for sev­eral hun­dred yards be­fore killing him. While rest­ing prior to dress­ing out and pack­ing the meat and hide back to camp, Fred in­spected a green­ish boul­der on the hill­side.

A rock­hound, Fred pro­nounced that the boul­der was one of two forms of jade. We tried chip­ping off a piece, even shoot­ing a piece off, with­out suc­cess. It was a large boul­der, nearly 5 feet in di­am­e­ter and more or less round.

We went back the next sea­son with a four-wheeldrive truck, a winch, ropes, pul­leys, and even prima cord—fred was an explosives ex­pert, too. We were de­ter­mined to re­move that jade boul­der. We spent five days look­ing for that rock but never found it again.

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