Chapter 13: The Oil Field War

The Family

“So that’s it?” Ashley said flatly. “The end?”

“Not quite,” Aubrey answered. She held up an envelope that was on the bottom of the box. She looked at her parents and her husband. They all nodded. Aubrey handed the envelope to Ramie. Ramie took a deep shuddering breath and opened it, shaking out the contents in her hand. She opened the pages and began to read.

Caitlin: It’s Time

My Dearest Loving Parents, My Beautiful Sister, My Brave Brother, My Kind Sister-in-law, My Adorable Little Niece.

I’ve just turned twenty-one. Our contemporaries in now-time consider that to be an occasion for cutting loose, getting drunk, gambling, and otherwise being adults. They’re idiots. In our twenty-one years, Phile and I have lived forty-two. Each. In one of our lives, we have functioned fully as independent adults since we were twelve. In the other, we were just weird, I guess. But we have tried to be responsible, even though we were wild and reckless at times. We were learning double and triple the amount normal kids do. It was a little overwhelming.

We always knew our family was a little strange, but wish we had discovered earlier that we weren’t the only ones who lived in different times. Miranda and Jason, we are so sorry for what we did when we were young and filled with rage. And we are so glad that you came to join Ramie and Kyle in this life.

Yelloweye visited us last night. I thought we were going to leave right then, but I needed to write this to you first. And yes, here in the bunkhouse, Mandy and Phile are holding me and drying my tears as I write. Later tonight, we will tap our drums and take Bells and Bows, Midnight, Mandy, and Merv Longsteer with us as we cross to Oxėse. We don’t know if we will ever be able to return after the coming battle. It was so hard to hug you each tonight after our party and not cry.

So, you need to know that I’m two months pregnant with Wolf Rising’s baby. Y’all are going to be grandparents again! Mandy has declared that as soon as we get to Oxėse, she is going to be working on getting Phile to plant her fertile soil, as she says. The thing is that whether it is Wolf Rising or Phile, it is the same father, just different genes. Just as Wolf Riding Woman and Caitlin are the same person. Perhaps one day, you will meet all of us and we will be one happy family.

We don’t know how soon the battle is coming, but with the activity in Yellowstone we all believe it will be soon. Our people have never been violent, but their peaceful ways have been destroyed. They see only that an armed conflict is on the horizon and we are trying to prevent that. We’ve managed to channel most of the energy into the First People’s Drum Day. Most believe it will be like a march on Washington, but we plan a more complete solution. It has to be done in an absolute and final way. I am sorry for the lives that will be lost, but greed rules in the hearts and Mother Earth has had enough.

We love you all so much it hurts, but we serve Mother Earth and she has summoned us. Certainly, we must love her even more. We can see Yelloweye outside the door. Beyond him, Wolf is pacing. Bells and Bows are standing at the fence with Mandy’s Wildfire and Merv’s pack animals. It’s time for us to go.

When you open the box and read the story, it will be history. You can help us write the next chapter.

This land is forever ours. Even when we are dead and buried, we are here to protect our pack and our land. The spirits of this land do not rest. And we are deadly when we hunt.

We love you.

Caitlin, Wolf Riding Woman, Phile, Wolf Rising, Mandy

The Family

The family sat in the office crying. Aubrey wrapped Ramie and Kyle in a hug and Cole held Ashley and Mary Beth. Outside they could hear the sounds of the cattle drive as Rafe and his cowboys herded them into the pens. Inside, there was only the sound of sniffling and sobs occasionally broken by a baby’s quiet demand.

“My babies are going to war!” Mary Beth sobbed against Cole’s chest. There was nothing he could do to comfort his wives but hold them and join their tears.

Eighth Live Report

“We interrupt this broadcast to bring you a special bulletin,” the announcer said on the television. It was two o’clock in the afternoon and the corner window still showed Earth Sister standing motionless on the horizon. This announcer was in a studio somewhere in New York.

“Reports began arriving two hours ago that an unusual crowd of Native Americans had begun filtering in to cities across the country. The Native Americans all seem to be dressed in traditional garb and many carry drums of varying sizes. This scene in Central Park shows an estimated thousand Oneida, Seneca, and Mohawk Indians with a scattering of other tribes preparing a circle of perhaps 100 or more drums. In Jacksonville, Florida, Seminole and Miccosukee Indians have gathered. In Atlanta, the Cherokee Nation has set up camp at Centennial Olympic Park,” he said.

“Nor is this invasion of Native Americans limited to the East coast. In Washington State, there are thirty-two Federally recognized tribes and another eight that are not recognized. It appears that all forty, however, are represented at Seattle Center with over 5,000 surrounding the famous Space Needle. Oklahoma City has discovered just how many Native Americans there are still left in what was once known as Indian Territory. Thousands of members from the thirty-three recognized tribes and three non-recognized tribes have gathered in Will Rogers Park at the amphitheater. Reports are flooding the news desk from as far away as Hawaii where Kānaka ‘Ōiwi, Kānaka Maoli, and Hawai’i Maoli have gathered on every island.

“In each area, the Native Americans have gathered around drums silently, as if awaiting a signal. We have finally established contact with a representative of the Northern Cheyenne, a thousand of whom have moved into the same area as the National Guard troops awaiting deployment in Cody, Wyoming. Rhea?”

The picture switched to the reporter in Cody who had been getting quite a workout today. The camera panned from Stampede Park where the National Guard vehicles had been parked to the reporter. Behind her, hundreds of Indians in traditional and ceremonial garb had camped in open space.

“This is Rhea Matthews of KWYO in Cody, Wyoming, reporting for the National News Network. While we were caught up in the confrontation between the Wyoming National Guard and members of the U.S. Army, a quiet phenomenon occurred behind us. Hundreds of members of the Northern Cheyenne tribe, with a reservation near Lame Deer, Montana, quietly set up a huge powwow on the empty plot of land lying just east of the Stampede. When we began to approach the circle, we were met by a representative asking us to not attempt to enter among the natives. There is no barrier between us, nonetheless he pointed toward the circle where large dogs or perhaps wolves were pacing the perimeter like sentries. I am here now with John Little Elk. John, can you tell us a little about what is going on here and in cities across America?”

“I am John Little Elk, a drum maker and story teller of the Northern Cheyenne. Two years ago, I met a remarkable woman named Earth Sister. She and the White Wolves told me of a great evil that was approaching and that our Earth Mother would not suffer it any longer. They said we must make the thunder of our drums heard in every heart and they asked me to take this message to the 500 tribes of America.”

“There are 500 Native American tribes?” Rhea asked.

“The United States Government recognizes 345 tribes plus 240 independent native villages in Alaska. Nearly 200 more are not officially recognized as independent tribes by government treaty, but they exist nonetheless. I will mention that there are another 230 tribes identified in Canada.”

“Did you visit them all?”

Little Elk laughed. “I had the privilege of meeting many First Peoples, but I am not magic. I have many helpers who have been carrying sacred drums to the People across the continent.”

“And why are they all gathered here today? Is this to join the protest in Yellowstone Park?” Rhea asked.

“Two years ago, we decided that we had been invisible for too long. We established a First People’s Drum Day. We awaited the White Wolves to give us the date and the time. We know now that it is today and the drums will cry out on behalf of Mother Earth. I must go to my people now,” Little Elk said. He turned and walked past the wolves and into the gathering.

“There you have the story,” Rhea said. “This is an event that has been planned for two years and no one outside the Native American community has apparently heard about it. Now back to New York.”

Rhea’s image was replaced by the network anchorman.

“In terms of major protests, this ranks fairly small,” the anchorman said. “Estimates are currently that there are between 100,000 and 150,000 Native Americans gathered in a reported forty-seven states and Canadian provinces. That they have chosen this day cannot be a coincidence and we shift you now to Evan Waitley at Yellowstone’s Grizzly Village. Evan?”

The image on screen shifted back to Yellowstone where Evan Waitley held his microphone. In the distance, they could see Mandy still standing at the top of the rise.

“We are now five minutes from the time that Shale Oil Company has indicated they will begin pumping the pressurized gasses into the shale layer, forcing the oil into prepared channels. A company spokesman—not here, but in Houston—has indicated that the only sign there will be of the commencement will be a high-pitched whistle as the gasses and steam begin to flow. He says that while this will undoubtedly disturb wildlife in the area for a few minutes, the whistle will rapidly fade as the pressure equalizes, causing less than ten minutes’ disturbance.”

“Evan,” said the studio voice, “has there been any change in the status of the encampment or a report of arrival of the U.S. Marshals?”

“The encampment, as you can see below us, has shown some sign of life, with people moving about. A large fire has been lit in the center of the camp and appears to be surrounded by drums. We projected earlier that there would be a ritual mourning of some sort and we assume that is what is being prepared. Perhaps this will be echoed by the gatherings you have reported across the country. As to the Marshals that you saw leaving Cody, they did arrive at the Eastern Gate and moved toward Fishing Bridge on the north side of Yellowstone Lake. Their progress, however, was suddenly arrested when what appears to be a large portion of the bison herd here in Yellowstone ambled onto the road and are simply not moving. This occurred before the cutoff that could take traffic around to the south. From what the Park Service is reporting, the herd seems disinclined to move and is just standing in the roadway.”

“Thank you, Evan. And we are, in fact, just seconds...” the station reporter’s voice was drowned out by a piercing scream and Evan plastered his hands over his ears as he doubled over, ripping his headset away from his ears. The camera swung wildly for a moment and came to rest on Evan with Mandy far in the background.

“That, apparently was the high-pitched whistle we were warned about,” Evan said once he had regained his microphone. It has left our ears ringing and continues, though slightly abated in the background. We can assume that the pseudo-fracking has commenced.”

“Evan! Behind you! Something is happening with the Earth Sister speaker.”

The reporter, of course, did not hear without his headset and continued talking, but apparently, the cameraman either heard or noticed and began zooming in on Mandy on the distant rise. She was raising her hands and as they rose, a distant rumbling grew.

“There is not a cloud in the sky, but we are getting some thunder in the background. Wait!” The cameraman got Waitley’s attention and the reporter turned to face Mandy. “It’s hard to believe that this thunder could be under her direction, but as Earth Sister raises her hands, there is no question that the volume is increasing. It seems to be coming from the mountain overlooking this basin.”

Mandy’s hands suddenly dropped and a boom echoed over the valley from mountain to mountain. It completely overrode the scream still issuing from the pseudo-fracking site. And at once, the boom was echoed by the drums in the village. Some fifty or more big drums surrounded the fire with at least three people beating on each one. And their call was answered again from the mountain.

The screen suddenly split into four parts with images labeled, Yellowstone, Seattle, Oklahoma City, and New York. It appeared that the drums in all locations were exactly matched. All but the Yellowstone window changed and windows were renamed Hilo, Cody, and Ottawa. The three windows were rearranged on one side of the screen as the larger picture of Yellowstone expanded.

“It sounds like more drums with an amplification system were set up on the mountain to completely fill the valley with sound. The ground, itself, is shaking under the reverberation of the drums. And now, Earth Sister is pointing at the drilling site as if she were directing ... Oh, my! This is unbelievable. Wildlife that we have not seen all day are suddenly teeming in the valley. If this is an illusion, it is not just visual. We can feel and hear the hoofbeats. And ... There are larger animals coming over the rise behind Earth Sister. She’ll be trampled!”

The Family

The family watched in disbelief as the scene unfolded live on the air. The network announcer kept screaming for Evan to pull back to a safer location, but the newsman had no headset and couldn’t be heard over the noise of the herds thundering down around Earth Sister on the rise. The animals parted around her as if she were a rock in the stream and stampeded toward the installation. And then two animals stopped momentarily on either side.

“That is the biggest fucking moose I’ve ever heard of!” Kyle whispered.

“It’s not just a moose. It’s Phile,” Mary Beth said. “That’s my son.”

“That’s not all,” Ramie said. “Caitlin is riding Wolf. I’d recognize that beast anywhere. I’ve ridden in his head. Oh, please be safe, little sister.” After the brief pause, the two animals loped ahead with their riders. It took a moment for everyone to realize that Mandy was no longer with them or on the rise.

“They took her to safety,” Cole whispered.

Then the first wave of bison hit the chain link fence. For a moment, it looked like it would hold while the defenders poured gunfire into the herd. But then the fence bowed inward and gave way to the thousands of tons of force stampeding into the installation. Once the fence was down, the stampede picked up momentum again, crashing into buildings like a tidal wave and bringing them to the ground.