MYLÈNE AND I WERE like Baker's hunting dogs, and we dutifully followed directions. The closest I actually came to making my own stupendous find was when Baker pointed to a high, flat-topped ridge above the Kogruk Creek. "Why don't you two youngsters run up there and take a look," he yelled to Mylène and me. When I got to the top, I could see two large bifaces and a scattering of flakes. My pulse quickened.

I don't know why, but I just knew this site was really old. I felt like the ground was speaking to me. I waved to Baker, and then quickly regretted it. I wanted to hog for myself whatever archaeological glory this site had. As Baker started up the hill, I dropped to my knees and began investigating the stones for a point that might be diagnostic. Mylène was searching the ground 20 yards away and angling in my direction. A frenzied, competitive feeling came over me. As I scoured the area, I fantasized about my discovery of a totally unknown, brand-new ice-age occupation that would be named the Steve Rinella Culture. I scoured the ridgetop in fast motion. I looked the whole thing over.

Or so I thought. The moment Baker crested, he walked right up to where I'd just been and said, "Oh, looky here. A Sluiceway."

For the archaeologists, recovering a Sluiceway point is like finding clues to a sunken, gold-laden Spanish galleon. The points were undoubtedly produced by Pleistocene hunters, but there's some confusion about them. Kunz says Sluiceway points resemble the points found on his Mesa site, except that they "look like they're on steroids." There are two competing theories about Sluiceway. First, that they were produced by the same people who occupied the Mesa site, and the difference in shape merely suggests a different hunting purpose, like maybe a different species of game or a different type of spear. The second theory suggests that the points may have come from a culture with much closer ties to Siberia, which means that locations containing Sluiceway points might prove to be considerably older.

I was overcome with jealousy at Baker's find, but I was also jumping up and down with excitement. He had said we needed to find something diagnostic, and here it was. The next step is to excavate the site for once-living material that can be carbon-dated, such as charcoal from campfires.

"So?" I asked Baker. "You think we'll dig this site?"

He looked around. "No." He then explained that excavations require lots of manpower and money, and the archaeologists needed solid evidence suggesting they'd find datable material that was directly associated with the artifacts. The summer before, the crew spent weeks digging a Sluiceway campsite and never recovered a datable piece of material.

"But we have evidence," I said.

"Just because we got a Sluiceway point doesn't mean there was a Sluiceway camp here," he said.

Kunz later explained to me that the crew has found 200 archaeological sites near the Utukok River alone. Of those, he considers only two worthy of future excavation.

Baker replaced the Sluiceway as carefully as you'd handle an injured bird. I felt like cheering for the point's perseverance in the face of time.