Hunter Gatherers in Ancient Mongolia Were Making Pottery Earlier Than Believed

Deep within the weather-sculpted expanse of the Gobi desert, nestled amid the rugged ridges of the Arts Bogdyn Nuruu massif, lies one of Central Asia’s most mysterious and artifact-rich prehistoric sites: Tsakhiurtyn Hundi, also known as Flint Valley. Long whispered about in archaeological circles but sparsely explored, this ancient landscape is now roaring back into the spotlight, thanks to a remarkable new study published in the journal Radiocarbon.

Led by Polish archaeologist Dr. Przemysław Bobrowski, an international team of researchers has pieced together a story that stretches across tens of thousands of years—a story buried in ancient hearths, flint blades, and the shimmering fragments of ostrich eggshells. Their meticulous work has yielded not only the earliest securely dated Holocene occupation in the Gobi Desert, but also a surprising revelation: pottery may have reached Mongolia almost two millennia earlier than previously believed.

This isn’t just an academic recalibration. It’s a seismic shift in our understanding of how early hunter-gatherer communities adapted to shifting climates, sourced materials, and exchanged cultural knowledge across one of the harshest environments on Earth.

Tsakhiurtyn Hundi: The Valley of Infinite Flint

Roughly 700 kilometers south of Mongolia’s bustling capital, Ulaanbaatar, Tsakhiurtyn Hundi sprawls across a dry, dramatic landscape shaped by time and tectonics. The region’s name—“Flint Valley”—is no romantic metaphor. Here, veins of ancient flint erupt from the ground in such abundance that prehistoric toolmakers would have seen it as a treasure trove of raw material. As Dr. Bobrowski explains, “The site owes its name to the presence of numerous flint outcrops and an incalculable number of flint artifacts. It is one of the most extensive prehistoric sites in Central Asia.”

Despite this bounty, the valley remained largely unstudied until the turn of the 21st century, when a collaborative expedition of Mongolian, Russian, and American researchers began mapping its surface. What they found hinted at a deep and continuous human presence dating back to the Early Paleolithic—hundreds of thousands of years ago. But it was only in recent years that systematic excavations, spearheaded by Dr. Bobrowski’s team, began to uncover the layered story of Flint Valley’s prehistoric settlers.

Unearthing a Lost World of Paleolakes and Prehistoric Lakeshore Settlements

To understand the ancient people who lived here, researchers began with the landscape itself. Before the Gobi became a parched desert, the region was a mosaic of shallow lakes, grassy plains, and seasonal rivers. Using intensive surface surveys and satellite mapping, Bobrowski’s team identified the faint traces of these now-vanished lakes—paleolakes—that once dotted the area south of the Arts Bogdyn Nuruu massif.

It was along the shores of these extinct lakes that early communities made their homes, leaving behind evidence of stone tools, campfires, and exotic ornaments. “Surface prospection revealed the existence of a network of paleolakes… which resulted in the discovery of numerous sites associated with communities inhabiting this area in the Pleistocene, as well as younger evidence of the presence of hunter-gatherer groups near the lakes in the early Holocene,” Bobrowski reports.

The researchers focused much of their attention on one particular paleolake: Baruun Khuree, or Lake V. This seemingly quiet spot in the desert turned out to be a treasure chest of archaeological insight, containing three major sites rich in material culture.

Artifacts of a Bygone Age: Ostrich Shells, Hearths, and Prehistoric Beads

At Baruun Khuree, the team excavated sites labeled FV 133, FV 134A, and FV 139. What they found was both beautiful and illuminating. In addition to the expected flint tools—scrapers, blades, and cores—they uncovered fragments of ostrich eggshells, some fashioned into delicate beads and pendants. These were not the random debris of survival; they were crafted objects of adornment and perhaps even symbolism.

The species responsible for these eggshells, Struthio anderssoni, was an extinct East Asian ostrich that roamed the plains of Mongolia and China during the Pleistocene and early Holocene. These birds, now long vanished, were a vital part of the prehistoric ecosystem—and evidently, of the prehistoric human toolkit as well.

The presence of hearths at these sites added a further layer of understanding. These ancient fireplaces provided not only warmth and cooking surfaces for early groups, but also charcoal—an essential ingredient for radiocarbon dating.

Two Horizons of Time: Radiocarbon Revelations from the Gobi Desert

Eleven radiocarbon dates were retrieved from the Baruun Khuree excavations, each whispering secrets from the ancient past. The dates divided cleanly into two occupation phases.

The older horizon, represented by site FV 139, dates back to 11,251–11,196 calibrated years before present (cal BP). The younger horizon, from sites FV 133 and FV 134A, is slightly more recent: 10,620–10,535 cal BP.

This makes the Baruun Khuree complex one of the earliest securely dated sites associated with Holocene hunter-gatherers in the Gobi Desert. It’s a powerful testament to the adaptability of ancient people, who survived and thrived in the fluctuating climate following the end of the Last Glacial Maximum.

Pottery That Rewrites History

But perhaps the most unexpected discovery came in the form of pottery sherds—cracked, weathered, but unmistakably handmade. Until now, the oldest pottery known in Mongolia dated to around 9,600 cal BP. The Baruun Khuree pottery, discovered directly in the context of ancient hearths, is almost 2,000 years older.

These ceramic fragments are simple but distinct: gray to dark gray or reddish, and no more than 7–8 mm thick. Their presence in such early layers challenges previous timelines and raises tantalizing questions about the routes of technological transmission across East Asia.

“The dates we have obtained show that the knowledge of making pottery vessels reached the Gobi Altai region almost 2,000 years earlier than previously thought,” says Dr. Bobrowski. “Chronologically, they correspond, for example, to early dates for pottery from northern China.”

Was this technology independently developed in Mongolia? Or did it arrive through cultural contact, carried by migrating groups or shared through trade and storytelling? The answers remain elusive—but the questions are thrilling.

What This Means for Prehistory in Central Asia

The implications of these findings ripple far beyond the dusty sands of Flint Valley. For decades, archaeologists believed that Central Asia was something of a prehistoric backwater—inhabited by nomads and hunter-gatherers, yes, but not home to early technological innovation.

The Baruun Khuree sites flip that script.

Here is evidence of complex behavior, of early symbolic adornment, of pottery-making centuries before anyone expected it. These early Holocene people weren’t just surviving; they were innovating. They understood their environment, crafted tools from flint, created jewelry from eggshells, and made pottery perhaps as a way to store food, boil water, or cook.

And they did all this in an environment as challenging as any on Earth.

Looking Ahead: More Secrets to Uncover

Dr. Bobrowski and his team aren’t finished yet. They are currently conducting specialist analyses of the artifacts from Baruun Khuree—including microscopic studies of the pottery, geochemical sourcing of the flint, and use-wear analysis of stone tools. Another publication, focusing specifically on the ostrich eggshell adornments and early ceramics, is on the horizon.

What’s already clear is that Flint Valley is no longer just a footnote in the prehistory of Central Asia. It is a central chapter—one that forces us to rewrite timelines, rethink assumptions, and marvel once more at the ingenuity of our ancient ancestors.

Conclusion: A New Frontier in Understanding Human History

In a world where deserts often feel like voids—blank spaces on the human map—Mongolia’s Tsakhiurtyn Hundi tells a different story. It is a story of resilience, creativity, and continuity stretching across the Ice Age into the birth of the modern world.

Thanks to the efforts of Dr. Przemysław Bobrowski and his colleagues, we now know that hunter-gatherer societies in the Gobi were not only early adopters of transformative technologies like pottery, but also stewards of complex cultural traditions. As the wind whispers across the abandoned hearths of Baruun Khuree, the echoes of these ancient lives grow louder—and more vivid—than ever before.

Reference: P. Bobrowski et al, The earliest Holocene wanderers through the Gobi Desert evidenced by the radiocarbon chronology of the lakeshore settlement near the Tsakhiurtyn Hondi, Mongolia, Radiocarbon (2025) DOI: 10.1017/RDC.2025.4