Florence Young knew since she was 10 years old that she could tap into some powerful things.

Her ability scared her and she pushed it away for a while, but the former school teacher from Decker eventually embraced her abilities, and for the past 50 years one way she's used her skills is to detect water underground.

At 73, with soft white hair framing her thoughtful face and mischievous blue eyes, Young looks more like somebody's favorite grandmother than a mystical conduit. But on Saturday, at the Silos Inn north of Townsend, Young was surrounded by others like herself who believe that a higher force guides them when they're dowsing for water.

"You are a tool, I'm going to say, of a higher being," Young said, her gentle smile not quite masking the seriousness behind her statement. "I can't do this myself; I'm only a tool. It's like I asked people who came here today -- how did you come in this room? They say 'I came in through the door.' But before they came through the door, they had to open the door. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Their trade is a mix of spirituality and mysticism, although most of the 40 people at this 28th annual meeting of the Big Sky Dowsers Association are quick to say there's nothing magical about finding water underground, and they look about as down to earth as a group you'd find at the church bake sale.

"I tell people to tell themselves that 'If Guy Hockett can dowse, then I know I can do it too,' " says Hockett, who traveled from Lebanon, Ore., for Saturday's conference. "You can use anything -- I've seen people dowsing with saw blades and I've used saw blades. I saw them using shovels and I've used shovels. I saw them use crowbars and I've used crowbars. Tire chains, logging chains -- most anything will work."

Heck, just tell Hockett your name and general location of where you live, and he'll concentrate for a moment, then tell you where to drill for water on your property, how deep you'll go and how many gallons per minute you'll find.

"After a couple of years, it gets kind of weird, but I just know where water is," said Hockett, whose blue baseball cap shades eyes that look like they've pierced the earth looking for water a time or two.

"There's nothing scary about dowsing, though, and anyone can do it if they believe they can do it."

The techniques vary a bit, but most of the dowsers at the convention say that when they begin their search, they concentrate and start to ask themselves questions, either internally or out loud.

"I want to know about quality, depth and quantity -- whether it will provide water year-round, 24 hours a day," Hockett said.

They test their techniques outside of the Silos, in what must be an odder convention ritual. One man slips on a leather glove with a rawhide cord wrapped around the forefinger, with a nut dangling from its end, and dangles it over the ground.

A couple walks back and forth, 30-inch lengths of a broken off fishing pole bobbing in their hands, waiting for it to circle over the water source. Another group carries L-shaped metal rods in each hand, which swing to and fro, crossing above another underground stream.

Most of the traditional Y-shaped willow branches have been replaced with nylon or fiberglass tubes, and a line of eight dowsers slowly walk forward, hands hip length holding the tubes' ends, waiting for the tell-tale dip signifying a hit.

Vern Bandy of Bozeman -- a retired financial analyst -- is perhaps the best equipped dowser here. He straps on what looks like a carpenter's belt, but instead of a hammer and screwdriver, his tools include a wide range of nylon tubes.

One Y looks like it has a balloon with gravel stretched over its end and another holds sand; these are called "witnesses" and help the dowser detect those elements underground. A thicker wand is used for volume detection.

"Interpretation is 70 percent of it," Bandy notes. "You can use just about anything."

"Remember that guy who used a pitchfork?" says John Young.

"And what about that girl from Ekalaka who did it with a pliers?" Bandy responds.

"And then there was that guy with the fishing pole," Young said.

Along with searching for water, Clayton and Charlotte Johnson of Helena use their abilities -- mostly Clayton's, Charlotte says -- to find specks of gold using a rod with a bit of gold on the end, or small sections of petrified trees.

Mary Baenen of Libby stands out in this group, as one of the few people at the convention who is younger than 50 and whose tie-dyed shirt isn't the traditional ranching attire. She's been a member of the dowsers association for four years and is here with her friend Gerald Luhrer of Idaho.

They're here to learn more, not just for themselves but to possibly bring the information to a new generation."

"I don't think it's a dying art -- I think it's here to stay, but they are trying to keep more young people interested," Baenen said. "These people have been so generous with their time and talent; to pass this on is really neat."

But the dowsing convention is about more than just water underneath the surface.

If you're wondering if you have the ability to dowse, Florence Young will take your hand and search for what she says is a telltale sign -- an "x" in a particular place on the palm. She'll also tell you, if you ask, about any illness you may be harboring, judging by the lines on your fingernails or fingers.

And Hockett is happy to channel a healing touch to a shoulder or vertebra, which he says will help balance your energy, just to round out your day.

"It's all about faith," Hockett says. "And if you have faith, you can do it."