Yelloweye - Cover

Yelloweye

Copyright© 2017 by aroslav

Chapter 12: The Last Days

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 12: The Last Days - WINNER: Clitorides Award for Best Erotic Western of 2017. The youngest of the Bell family siblings, Phile and Caitlin add a new twist to time travel. They are in both times simultaneously. For kids growing up on a ranch in Wyoming, it is confusing and disorienting, causing them to go wild and become anti-social. As Cheyenne in the 1860s it is almost fatal. An intense story of two young people caught up in a plot by "the Old Ones" to reclaim Mother Earth.

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   ft/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Western   Time Travel   Incest   Brother   Sister  

Seventh Live Report

The family cleaned up the lunch spread and headed back into the house. Cole flipped up the volume on the news station as the main picture switched to the scene of the military staging in Cody.

“This is Rhea Matthews of KWYO in Cody, reporting for the National News Network. A new development here in Cody, where a National Guard military police platoon moved in overnight to stage for an action in Yellowstone National Park, has pitted the National Guard against a handful of regular army troops. An hour ago, First Lieutenant David Bass, the ranking military officer in charge, received orders to move out to Yellowstone. Lieutenant Bass has assembled his troops on the parade ground.” The camera cut to the assembled troops in formation as the Lieutenant addressed them. To one side, the U.S. Deputy Marshalls were gathered, waiting expectantly in front of their black SUVs. Four regular army personnel stood behind the Lieutenant.

“An hour ago, Captain Rodriguez, behind me, delivered orders from Colorado Springs. I have diligently verified these orders and will read them to you who are assembled and have sworn to uphold the Constitution of the United States and to protect its citizens at home and abroad,” the lieutenant said. His voice did not need amplification. It was strong and sure.

“You are hereby ordered to proceed to Yellowstone Grizzly Village with full force. You are to remove the protesters at that camp and transport them to holding cells provided by the U.S. Marshal Service in Jackson, Wyoming. You are further ordered to remove all trace of human occupation from the ground currently designated as Yellowstone Grizzly Village. Resistance may be encountered and the use of deadly force in the defense of U.S. Marshals and military personnel is authorized. Signed, Colonel Miles Clark, Commander, 10th Special Forces Group, Fort Carson, Colorado.” The lieutenant folded the paper and placed it in his pocket, then resumed addressing the assembly.

“Governor Meade’s order mobilizing our company of the Wyoming National Guard was to render humanitarian aid and assistance in relocating the residents of Yellowstone Grizzly Village to their respective homes and to stand between them and danger. Since this new order is in stark contrast to that initial mobilization, I took time to verify the authenticity of this order. I have also consulted with National Guard Headquarters in Cheyenne and JAG. None have been notified that the President is calling the Guard into Federal service—his right if he considers that unlawful obstruction, assemblages, or rebellion make it impracticable to enforce the laws of the United States. In good conscience, therefore, noting that Colonel Miles and the 10th Special Forces Group are not in our chain of command, these orders are not binding, and I respectfully submit that I will not obey and order you into this illegal action.”

The captain drew his sidearm and pointed at the lieutenant.

“Execute your orders, Lieutenant, or you will be found insubordinate and derelict of duty. You will be summarily executed,” the captain snapped. Before the lieutenant could respond, fifty rifles came to ready position aimed at the five people before them.

“Would you really turn these men into murderers and ruin the lives of so many?” the lieutenant asked.

“If I order them to shoot you, it is not murder.”

“Funny definition. But their arms are not pointed at me.”

The captain looked toward the troops and the realization that they were pointing their rifles at him and his three companions suddenly dawned on him. He lowered his sidearm.

“Very well,” the captain blustered. “We’ll settle it in courts martial. Sergeant! Place Lieutenant Bass under arrest and escort him to a secure location. As ranking officer here...” He was cut off by the sergeant’s loud bark.

“With respect, Captain Rodriguez, I don’t answer to you. You’re not in my chain of command and I’ve seen no lawful orders authorizing you to take over. Lieutenant Bass, I assume your orders are to place Captain Rodriguez and his three escorts under ‘protective custody’? Detachment! Disarm Captain Rodriguez and his companions and confine them.” There was a rapid movement and the group was surrounded, disarmed, and led away.

The Marshals, seeing which way the wind was blowing, moved quickly to their SUVs, and roared out of the Rodeo Park. They headed west.


The Family

“That spells trouble,” Cole said. “I’m going to want all resources of Gold Watch made available for the defense of those National Guard men and women.”

“Of course,” Ashley said. “We just need to see who else we’re going to defend.”

The family gathered again in the office and the babies settled down on blankets for a nap. Ramie softly caressed the top of the wooden box and looked up at her wife.

“Aubrey, honey, I hate to ask...” She didn’t need to finish. Aubrey held out her hand and took the box. She carefully removed the last pages from it.


Caitlin: Knowing

I don’t know how we survived knowing and not doing anything. It had become obvious that the assault on Mother Earth would happen at Yellowstone, our oldest National Park. But survey crews had already begun marking the location for Shale Oil Company’s drilling site. Oh, they were doing it carefully, by the book as they say. There was a big show about how environmental concerns were being met, statements about no work being done that would in any way upset the natural beauty and ecology of this national monument. But we knew.

There had to be a thousand caverns in the Rocky Mountains like the one where we went to meet White Mouth. Yet his cave overlooked the very ridge where in now-time they were staking out the planned site and the road that would lead their crews in and out. The valley below the site, where Grizzly Lake lay, was the largest grazing area for buffalo in the Park. And in Oxėse, it was the place we were leading the People to make camp.


Mandy’s habit of walking into the legislative chambers of the Northern Cheyenne without opening doors didn’t make her a favorite among the council. When she came into the first session of the new year, they were angry and asked her to leave.

“Brothers, I do not come as a supplicant,” Mandy said. “I do not ask you to forsake your Christian religion. I do not ask you to cease the important work you are doing to contest coal leases and help restructure BLM managed lands. I do not ask you to set aside your continued support for other tribes who continue to stand for clean water, clean air, and a protected environment. Earth Mother knows that you are small and weak.”

“We are neither small nor weak!” John Lonebear shouted. “We are a stronger nation now than at any time since the reservation was founded.”

“And this reservation is not a tenth of the land the People roamed and hunted before whiteman came,” Mandy responded. “When we stand against the corporations who would rape Earth Mother, we are small and weak. But Earth Mother is not small nor is she weak. She has chosen the People as her hands and arms.”

“Earth Sister, come to the point. What do you want?” Stan BlackBear asked.

“Sweet Medicine gave us the sacred arrow bundle,” Mandy said. “He gave us our laws and our tribes and our council. And he prophesied the coming of whiteman, horses, and cattle. But he gave us another thing that would bring us hope through all this. He gave us the Sun Dance and drums. The drums are the voice of Earth Mother. It is only your hands on the drums that I ask.”

“This is a simple thing.”

“The Wolf Twins cannot talk in the council. Nor can they visit the other tribes of the Native Nations. We will need all the People to drum when that time comes—the Southern Nation, the Navaho, the Lakota, the Salish, the Cherokee, the Seneca. Someone must be an ambassador of the People and enlist the drums.”

There was debate in the council and we retreated to Mandy’s little house on the edge of Lame Deer. It was a cold January with over a foot of snow in the village. I was glad to get into more clothes than just our buckskins and wolf robes. We had eaten dinner and were sitting in front of the cabin’s fireplace when someone knocked at the door. Mandy answered. A short man dressed in ceremonial robes was ushered in by the fire.

“Welcome to our hearth, honored one,” Mandy said. “We have little here, but what we have, we offer for your comfort.”

“My cousin insisted that I come in full regalia,” the man laughed. “I’m John Little Elk. I’ve come to talk about becoming your ambassador.”

“May we give you refreshment?” I asked.

“I have a weakness for coffee,” Little Elk said. “With milk, if I may.”

“Come sit with us,” Phile said. “It is a cold night, but our fire is warm.”

“I have heard much about the white wolves, but never thought I would meet them. Cheyenne spirits in the bodies of whiteman. It is hard to grasp.” I gave Little Elk his coffee and settled between Phile and Mandy as we talked. As we offered him coffee, he offered us cigarettes and we did not speak of his purpose until our empty cups and ashes had been put aside.

“My cousin is Stan Black Bear and he came to me asking if I would serve the council by becoming an ambassador to the First Nations. This has fallen to me for two reasons. The first is that I travel a great deal and, in fact, was planning to leave on Monday to visit relatives in Oklahoma. I will not say that it is warm there, but there is less snow. The second reason is because I am a drum maker. I have studied for many years, including a time some years ago with your grandfather, Earth Sister. I am surprised that you did not simply ask him to become your ambassador.”

“Grandfather has other tasks to fulfill,” Mandy laughed. “He is building a large drum to call thunder from the mountain.”

“Ah. So that is what his questions have been about. We have talked about drum making and how to effectively reinforce the body for greater tension. He did not say he was going to call the thunder,” Little Elk said.

“Perhaps we can enlist your assistance when the time comes to stretch the skin. Then you could meet the dark wolves, as well,” Phile said.

“Your shadows,” Little Elk mused. “Your legends are already spreading among the People. Secret whispers. Four wolves that share two spirits. One speaker who binds them together. Let us talk of what you need.”

We talked most of the night. We explained the prophecy of Yelloweye and the scorpion. We mourned the water protectors who had been injured or lost their lives in the last showdown with the corporations and our desire to protect the People from a similar situation. And we talked about the need to unite the First People of the world with their drums when Earth Mother was ready to show her strength.

“So, it is not really an ambassador you need,” Little Elk said. “You need a missionary.” We sat in silence, nodding. He stood and we all rose with him. It was near dawn. “A sacred drum maker is always welcome at any dance. I’ve visited many of the nations and know people who will help. I will leave on Monday for the South and by spring I will have crafted the songs and rhythms. How long do we have?”

“Until the scorpion stings,” Mandy said. “We know now that they plan to strike in the Yellowstone. We expect they will start construction of the site or at least the roads necessary after the snow melts. The weather will slow even the machines of the corporation, so perhaps two years or two and a half.”

“We will be ready,” he said. “May Ma’heo’o guide you.”


In the spring, Merv was eager to return to Oxėse to complete the drum frame. We were eager to unite with Wolf Rising and Wolf Riding Woman. I don’t even know how to begin to describe our relationship. That isn’t even a good word for it. We didn’t have a relationship. We were one and the same, but even after twenty years, we sometimes found ourselves confused about who we were. Only when we were all together did we seem to be truly complete.

I’ve heard there are two sides of the brain and one side can talk to the other. You know that voice in your head that you talk to? Only the voice in my head that I talk to is really connected to a different body. If I’m arguing with myself over something, I’m arguing with Wolf Riding Woman. My left brain and right brain share all the same knowledge, accumulated through two lifetimes in two different bodies at the same time. And there are times when I think I will explode.

As soon as we arrived in Oxėse, my first thought was not of Wolf Rising or of Mandy, but of Wolf Riding Woman. And I could see that Phile felt the same way about Wolf Rising. We rushed to our counterparts and spent the first night just loving them. To embrace myself. To love and touch and taste myself. I felt whole when we were together.

That didn’t mean that I wasn’t just as hungry for Wolf Rising, nor that Wolf Riding Woman didn’t crave the touch of Phile and Mandy. You put five bodies together that all desire each of the others, and you have a few days’ worth of sex in every combination you can imagine.

Of course, we couldn’t just indulge ourselves. We had Merv with us. And he wanted to get the drum frame out from under ground and into the light and warmth of day. Phile, Mandy, and I had to get the People moving to their next camping area. There were nearly three hundred now and we brought deer, rabbits, and pronghorn to lead them and feed them. Babies we had seen born were now parents and even grandparents. Yet we were just twenty years old.

Speaking of which, we had to be back on the ranch in time for our birthdays at the end of the month.

With the drum frame out of its form and drying in the sun, Merv was preparing and soaking wide strips of rawhide that he would wrap and glue to the frame, reinforcing the thick laminate he had created. The frame would weigh somewhere near 200 pounds when it was fully dry and cured, and the skin would weigh a hundred or more.


Our birthday celebration was less about us than about little Theresa, who turned one year old. What a cute little girl! I just loved her. And her mom. Aubrey came to see me a week after she was born.

“I tried to keep my legs crossed until the first,” she said, “but the little beauty insisted on being born on your birthday.”

“She’s such a doll,” I said. “I’ll try to be a good auntie. Can I take her riding?”

“You and Ramie! Let’s let her at least crawl before you put her on a horse,” Aubrey laughed. She let me hold my niece and I gazed longingly in her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, Caitlin. And in case you are worried about it, no one in the family will have a problem. It might even push Ramie over the edge. I’ve hardly been able to pry my little girl away from her this week. I ... We thought it would be too confusing to name her after you. We chose ... other family names. You aren’t upset, are you?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think she looks like a junior, do you?” I asked. “Aubrey ... No matter what happens, take care of my brother and sister, won’t you? They’ll need you.”


The worst part of the next year was knowing. Phile and I went off to Yellowstone and watched them start building the roads. We knelt on Mother Earth and begged her to let us end it immediately. Waiting until they were finished building seemed like such a waste. But we knew we needed time. We needed at least twice the number of villagers that we currently had. We needed scores of drums for them. We needed Little Elk to recruit the other tribes. We needed to move a million or more big animals.

But it was so hard to wait.

You must have a pack to lead a pack.

I turned at the voice in my head to find Creator Wolf between Phile and me. We’d seen him ... talked to him often, but every time he still scared me and I raised my hackles to fight. Yelloweye calmed me before I realized the bird was there.

To you, time is important. There is no time in Oxėse. Days pass. Years pass. But all time is now. Do your tasks. Enjoy your lovers. Gather the People. Live now.

Yelloweye finished speaking and hopped away. Creator Wolf did not speak again. Instead he turned and licked my face. I cringed at the nearness of his fangs and the smell of his breath. He chuffed as if he were laughing and loped off into the woods. Yelloweye hoo-hooed and lifted to the branches of a nearby tree. We drummed ourselves back to the ranch.


Phile: The Last Preparation

Little Elk began spreading the new legends. He had so carefully woven them into the existing stories of our tribes that no one thought twice about it. What they detected was a new sense of urgency and the call to awaken the drums. The styles of drums in each of the tribes were different from our Cheyenne drums. Some were large barrel drums with one end open. Others were closed on both ends. Some were hollowed logs and others were made of bent wood. Some were meant to be beaten by a single drummer and others had as many as six or eight sitting around a single stretched skin.

Over the summer, Little Elk occasionally called on us to step in and reinforce the story. He’d created a little pageant and we would enter his stage from a curtain. Of course, people assumed that we had been hiding behind the curtain and not that we’d actually stepped through it from somewhere else. Earth Sister would step forward and state the prophecy of Yelloweye as the White Wolves stood silently in the background. Then we’d step back through the curtain and disappear.

I wasn’t sure about how effective Little Elk’s strategy would be. It felt like he was turning it into a show. I was pleased, though, to hear of a rising fervor in the tribes, especially among the very old and the youth. The very old accepted the stories as a return to the old ways, showing that the traditions were relevant and needed today. The youth were rudderless, upset at the world, disillusioned by their parents’ acceptance of the whiteman way of doing things, many of them caught up in the enterprise of selling to the whites, either through ‘tax-free’ outlets on the reservation or through the casinos.

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