My One Randall was the larger bowie type. An elderly man in the nursing home I worked at had his affairs handler send me one from his collection when I told him about my grand Alaskan (mis)adventure I was going to go on! He wanted to give stuff away before his relatives looted and pillaged and sold off his collections. Long of the short after using the knife and well...yes many FUN (mis)adventures, caused the local native tribe to have a young teenage boy "hang around." My camp area. (Really to help keep the green horn alive who filled some of their Big Brown and Barren Ground Grizzly tags in self defense. Some one who was only experienced with black bears not their larger more murderous cousins.) Him and the dog he had with him did make my (mis)Adventures in to some fun real Adventures. Well when leaving I saw the one who made it a most pleasurable time, he had a Poko looking piece of steel for a knife that he said his great grand father had that was so sharpened over the decades that it did look like a Poko. So well...dang it felt the right thing to do so I gave him the Randall, and the village the rest of my way over stock of 300 win mag ammo, which was greatly and gladly accepted. When I got home I showed the nice gentleman the use of the knife in action and in even more competent use in action of my literal savior on a few occasions as he used it more proficiently than me. I told my knife benefactor I gave the young man the knife. My benefactor looked at me and smiled and said "Good." with a smile on his face and only asked for the pictures of the knife being used. He died a few weeks later and wanted the pictures buried with him. Well...of course their family's lawyers threatened with legal action to get part of the collection back! I told them to get from some place in Alaska if they wanted it. The elderly gentleman's affairs person said don't sweat it, he told me he gave a way all his collections when I was gone, and when he heard of the circumstances of the knife I gave away, that was one of the happiest things he heard. The old man wanted things to be used and not gathering dust, and being part of the one to give him a happier story of his giving, also made me feel better, about giving away one of the best knives I ever had for a month or so.