Discarded hatchet stokes imagination 

The air was filled with the smell of fallen leaves on that first cold morning in September of 1975. I was happy it was a Saturday so I could be out in my woods around Limekiln Lake.

I got dressed and with my dog Mutt at my side, headed down to the lake.

The shore was littered with pine needles and hundreds of Maple leaves rolled up in a ball of color.

Typically I would toss a stick out into the water for Mutt to fetch, but the water was now too cold for the activity.

Instead Mutt waded in shallow water waiting for the wind to blow the stick back to shore.

As we continued on our trek I spied a hatchet submerged in the water about eight feet from the shore. I decided I should retrieve it.

Mutt and I searched the woods for a long stick to use as a hook to pull it in.

But Mutt was distracted by the sound of an unhappy squirrel and bounded into the woods after it.

In the meantime I tested the durability of several long branches. 

When I found one that would work out pretty well I dragged it to the shoreline and used it to wiggle the hatchet back to shore.

As I struggled at the task, I wondered why the perfectly good hatchet was in the lake in the first place.

I imagined that a serial killer had used it to murder someone and tossed it in the water to hide the evidence.

Perhaps he was hiding in the woods and watching me at that very moment.

The hair on the back of my neck bristled with the thought. I quickly changed my way of thinking and came up with the scenario that Indians unknowingly dropped it as they paddled across the lake.

I had coaxed the hatchet about four feet from shore when Mutt came crashing into the lake. She had stirred up the water and I could not see it.

I decided just to walk in, feel around for it, and pull it out by hand.

Once I had it on dry land I examined it for traces of blood, but all I found was a stamped marking in the shape of a police badge.

The writing on it said: Kelly Vandium Charleston W. V.A. Axe and Tool Co. USA.

It was a really cool find and in great shape.

There was no rust—not even a chip from the two-sided blade head—and the wood handle was free of cracks.

I held it in my hand and was surprised at its weight. I felt the urge to test it out so I walked over to a nearby rotten stump.

I used both hands to plunge it into the soft stump where it got deeply lodged into the rotting pulp.

It took me a longer time to free it from the stump than it did to retrieve it from the water.

I have held onto that hatchet my whole life and to this day I still use it to chop kindling wood.

Every time I pick it up I think of that fall day when I retrieved it from the chilly waters of Limekiln Lake.

Mitch Lee, Adirondack native & storyteller, lives at Big Moose Lake. ltmitch3rdny@aol.com