Rock of Ages By Scott Kirkwood
Alibates Flint Quarries National Monument in Texas contains the remnants of a mine, factory, and merchandise from an ancient era.
Today this stretch of land in the Texas panhandle is a silent, windswept mesa covered with rubble and grass. But 1,200 years ago the air was filled with the "tock tock tock" of American Indians shaping pieces of Alibates flint into tools and weapons that were as functional as they were beautiful. Alibates Flint Quarries National Monument, which might be considered the first working mine in North America, was preserved in 1965 for its historical significance and as a way to preserve the colorful flint that still litters much of its 1,300 acres. Archaeologist Dr. Paul Katz describes Alibates flint as "a Texas rainbow trapped in rock," for its multi-hued variations, formed millions of years ago, when minerals seeped into a layer of clay and limestone called dolomite—not unlike the process responsible for petrified wood.
"Early hunters and gatherers didn’t even have to dig pits to quarry Alibates Flint," says Katz. "Large boulders and chunks of flint were exposed right on the top and sides of the mesa, and some rolled into the surrounding creek valleys. Smaller pieces were available in gravel outcrops on every nearby hilltop." In later years, mining was done on such a large scale that some consider the land Texas’ first factory. More than 700 pits are scattered throughout the monument and perhaps as many as 2,000 across the entire Alibates Flint formation extending well beyond the park’s boundaries. The native people who lived along the shores of the Canadian River, referred to as Antelope Creek Indians, fashioned the flint into spear points, knives, arrowheads, and tools such as hide scrapers and drills. The creation of metal tools and weapons about 100 years ago led the "factory" to cease operations, and since then the landscape has gradually given way to nature.
"The ground is still covered with flint, and visitors can see big outcrops of flint bigger than refrigerators, but the actual pits themselves aren’t very impressive to look at anymore," says Ed Day, a retired park ranger at Alibates who occasionally returns to work as a volunteer. "Every time it’s rained for over 100 years, flint and dirt are washed back into the pits, and many of them have filled up with vegetation."
But at one time, this area was buzzing with activity.
"The southern plains villagers living here were probably the country’s first true merchants," says Dr. Jeff Indeck, a curator of at the Panhandle-Plains Historical Museum in Texas, repository of nearly all the artifacts found at the park. "This isn’t a domestic or residential site where you might find six scrapers or eight knives or 12 projectile points—at Alibates, we’ve found literally hundreds of these tools. It’s like the Lowe’s or Home Depot of the era. There are tools in all stages of manufacture from raw materials to partially finished tools to finished tools. We don’t see that at any other archaeological site—people simply don’t leave these tools behind."
Archaeologists have found what appears to be Alibates flint scattered all over the continent—up to 500 miles in every direction, even as far as Canada—although the wide variations in color make it difficult to prove its origin with a simple visual inspection.
The question that puzzles many anthropologists is: What exactly were these people trading for? Evidence shows that they were able to grow corn, beans, squash, and other vegetables, and bison were so plentiful that Antelope Creek Indians probably had to work to keep them away from their crops. Although archaeologists have turned up trade items such as shells from the Pacific Coast, turquoise from New Mexico, and obsidian from volcanic environments, Indeck believes that Antelope Creek people already had most of what they needed. In fact, he speculates that they traded not so much to acquire material objects, but to promote a cultural exchange that expanded the gene pool, revealed new ways to hunt and prepare food, and exposed them to other belief systems.
Today, people in the region are still fascinated by Alibates flint. Local "rockhounds" gather the flint from private land and fashion everything from earrings to bolo ties to bookends. In the past, park visitors were required to make reservations with a ranger to hike out to the quarries, but now that construction crews have put the finishing touches on a new visitors center in the park, anyone can get a close look at the various colors and patterns of Alibates flint removed from private property near the park—and even take home a few small pieces. If you time your visit right, you can see rangers demonstrate how native peoples worked the flint into useful objects, turning an oval piece of rock the size of your fist into an arrowhead, millions of years in the making.
Scott Kirkwood is senior editor for National Parks magazine.
