Yelloweye
12
The Last Days
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.
“We need to enlist the support of the white environmentalists who are opposing the oilmen,” said one young woman. We were riding in the head of Little Elk and he quickly identified her as a Seminole from Florida.
“You know how that would work out,” said an old man from the Lakota in Minnesota. “Whites have to own and manage everything. They would adapt our stories and we would possibly have a representative at some of their meetings. This is an Indian affair and we should keep it that way.”
“We have to be able to do something besides beating a drum!” said a local Arapaho boy. “Why don’t we go to Yellowstone now and sabotage their equipment? The longer we wait, the stronger they become.”
“Have you ever seen Yellowstone in the winter?” laughed Little Elk. “Why do you think I come to Oklahoma in the winter? The roads through Yellowstone are closed now.”
“In the spring then,” the angry boy said.
“I agree that we need to do more than beat drums,” the Seminole woman said. “That’s why we should be writing to the environmental groups and to our congressmen to raise the awareness at the least.”
Little Elk had convened the meeting of a dozen representatives from tribes he had visited this year. It was midwinter and he’d set up the meeting near the Cheyenne-Arapaho Tribal headquarters in Concho, Oklahoma. The delegates had flown to Oklahoma City and Little Elk had arranged the loan of a small bus from the casino to transport them out to Concho. Just south of the tribal headquarters on Black Kettle Boulevard were the three remaining buildings of the Concho Indian School that had been closed for forty years. One of the buildings was converted to a fitness center and Little Elk had arranged for the delegation to meet, eat, and sleep in the gym.
When it seemed that everyone had an opportunity to state their opinion on the issue of how to proceed Little Elk turned to one young man who had been silent throughout.
“Ken, you have not yet spoken. Do you wish to share with the delegates?” Little Elk asked. The man nodded.
“I am Ken Klinekole of the Mescalero Apache. Through all history, the war drums of the Apache have been feared. While we dance the peaceful dances and powwow with our brothers, we keep our war drums ready. Before I call our warriors together to waken these drums, I would hear from Earth Sister directly what it is that the White Wolves can do.”
Did you put him up to that? Mandy whispered in Little Elk’s head. He shook it. Then tell him we will come when the delegates unite their drums.
“In front of each of you is a gift from the Twin Wolves,” Little Elk said. “These are sacred drums, made in a different time and place. They are different than those used in your tribes and even a little different than those that I make. These drums have come from the heart of the sacred mountain known as Bear Butte. When you find the rhythm, it will be echoed from Grizzly Mountain and Earth Sister will appear among us.”
“An illusion?” asked the old man.
“No. She has said she will come and I believe her,” Little Elk said. “While you contemplate the gifts and consider what you are asking, I suggest we eat the food that has kindly been prepared for us.”
Unlike their northern counterparts at Lame Deer, Montana, the Cheyenne-Arapaho of Oklahoma had no reservation. The 9,000 tribal members who lived in Oklahoma were mostly concentrated in four counties just northwest of Oklahoma City. In 1892, the U.S. Government broke its 1868 treaty, allotting 160 acres per household to the tribe members and opening up the rest of Indian Territory (Oklahoma) to settlement and homesteading. It was an attempt ‘normalize’ the natives into the Western European style of farming and society.
The tribes had been fighting to regain their identity for 130 years.
But many of the tribes had been reestablished and the Cheyenne and Arapaho had combined. Cherokee, Apache, Comanche, and others had established tribal headquarters, some still had Indian schools, and some had their own broadcast and media outlets. The tribal media, of course, were very interested in what was happening in Concho and had attempted unsuccessfully to get a television camera into the gym where the delegates were meeting. It was for this reason alone that they decided to drum in the gym rather than at an outside fire.
“You want to meet Earth Sister and she’s agreed,” Little Elk said.
“Is she here?”
“Not yet. She will come when we drum.”
“Where is she now?” asked the Arapaho boy, Luke.
“She is in Lame Deer. The winter drums are starting there. We should start our winter drums as well,” Little Elk said. There were many puzzled looks, but all the delegates prepared to use their gift drums for the first time. At Little Elk’s signal, the beat began.
We were ready. The drums at Lame Deer would continue for many hours. The drums at Concho were also echoed by the mid-winter dance being held at the tribal headquarters a few blocks away. And in Oxėse, Wolf Rising and Wolf Riding Woman were using their prayer drums to forge the link. We were going to attempt something we had never tried before.
Mandy raised her arms and we stepped forward from Lame Deer to Concho. This was the first time that we hadn’t entered through a curtain or out of the mist. The drummer delegates gasped as we literally stepped into the middle of their circle. Little Elk raised a hand and three beats later, the circle of drummers fell silent.
Ken Klinehole of the Mescalero immediately stood and walked around Mandy, pausing a moment to consider us at the edge of the circle. When he faced Mandy, he reached out a hand slowly and touched her face. She smiled at him.
“The Apache war drums await the call of Mother Earth. We will ride together,” he said.
“Thank you, Ken,” Mandy said. He returned to his seat in the circle. “I know, however, that you all have many more questions that you want answered or you would not have asked us to attend. Let me introduce the White Wolves. We don’t use any other names when referring to them. They are the Twin Wolves that I have dedicated my body and my mind to.” She pulled her dress down a little so our faces were visible tattooed on her chest.
“They’re not People like us,” the Seminole girl, Jae, said.
“No. But weren’t you lobbying a little while ago for us to include whites in our planning?” Mandy laughed. “We want to spend some time getting to know each of you. Even though I do all the public speaking for the Wolves, they have voices and if we sit and powwow together, they will also answer questions. Let’s relax and get to know each other.”
That began a long evening of just sitting and talking. Everyone wanted to touch us to make sure we were real. They also wanted to touch the white wolf robes.
“I have listened to the tales that Little Elk has spun. We have heard the prophecy of Yelloweye and that there are three spirits in five bodies. Yet we see only three spirits in three bodies. Who are these others?” the old Santee asked. He was a medicine man in his own right and had held himself apart from adopting any white religion. He probably had the easiest time believing everything, but the presence of whites still bothered him.
“The ‘who’ part of your question is me,” Caitlin answered. She poked me in the ribs. “And him. We are two spirits who inhabit four bodies. I believe the question you really wanted to ask was, ‘Where are the others?’ They are in Oxėse, which in our Cheyenne tongue simply means ‘Other Place’. We would like to visit you in these other bodies if you will drum for us.”
“Before we start,” Mandy said, ‘let me say that we have managed for a short period of time to all be together in what we call now-time. But the Dark Wolves are anchored in Oxėse and can only stay here as long as the drums keep beating. It is an odd thing that we can all be together there with no problem. But the path is open and in answer to the drums, we believe we can be together for a little while. Little Elk, if the drums falter, we will depend on you to maintain the beat. Don’t worry, though, you will also have conversation with the Dark Wolves.”
Of course, Caitlin and I planned to keep our drums going as well, but having the support of the delegates was important to us. We began the drumbeats that matched the drums of Wolf Rising and Wolf Riding Woman. The group joined us and when Mandy pulled us together, they entered the circle. The drums faltered a little, but they soon returned to the steady beat that we marked.
It was Ken Klinehole again who seemed to be delegate designated to verify that we existed. He faced the two Dark Wolves and held out his arm for them to clasp. Nodding he turned and said, “I will ride to battle with these warriors.”
He returned to his seat and the old Santee approached us. We don’t have a lot of interaction with other tribes, but our languages are all based on Algonquian. When he spoke, it was not difficult to understand that he was asking if we were ‘like him’. I answered in Cheyenne.
“We are of the People. We have lived apart and in isolation from the progress of the world that you have known. We have a tribe that we have nurtured for what seems to them to be a hundred years, but for us has been just half a dozen. There are nearly a thousand of our People who have prepared to come to this time and place as an anchor for the thunder. It is on their behalf that we ask you to join on the drums when we lead Mother’s children in battle.” While Wolf Rising was speaking to the old man, I stepped into the center of the circle and spoke the words in English.
A young Pawnee woman came before us, fascinated mostly by our wolf robes. She spoke very little, but stroked the fur of all four robes. Tears ran down her face as she turned to address the other delegates.
“The Pawnee are the People of the Wolf. The hand sign for our tribe is the same as the hand sign for ‘wolf’. These wolves have been blessed by the Great Wolf that many believe created the world. Others believe he brought death into the world. I believe they are the same thing. I can feel his spirit move in the gifts of the robes they wear. They have eaten the flesh of the wolves they slew and have become one with them,” the girl said.
Mandy had just one final word for everyone before we stopped drumming.
“The People do not need a new religion. What appears to be a miracle of moving us through time and space is no more than the spirits we have known all our lives and all the lives of our parents and grandparents exercising their rights. They exist beyond our understanding of the physical world. We merely move at the will of the spirits.”
With that, the five of us moved back to Oxėse. We made love in the dawning hours and spent four days before three of us had to be home for Christmas.
Caitlin: Heartbeats
Having appeared to our delegates, there was a new life in Little Elk’s movement. We’d stressed to them that we didn’t want a new religion tied to us in any way, but there was no question that the delegation was now missionaries, not only to their tribes, but to the rest of the Native American community. Everything was focused on a First People’s Drum Day that would occur in the summer a year-and-a-half away. We didn’t attempt to fix a date. We had no idea when we’d be called into action, but it was obvious that the road to the Yellowstone site had been finished and in the spring, they would start erecting their installation. We’d gone to the Park and walked around the site, looking at the survey posts and flags marking where the construction would commence.
There had been a lot of news reports that showed how carefully Shale Oil Company was approaching the project. The installation would run on green power while it tapped into the fossil fuel substrata. At least there would be no power lines. The compound itself would look like a mountain lodge, so they said. A footnote to one of the reports mentioned that this was the first of a proposed fifty sites on public lands that had been approved for oil exploration. Any alarm that was raised regarding the misuse of public land was passed off as being from tree-hugging liberals who all wanted to prevent progress and make an issue out of everything.
Near the end of April, Phile, Mandy, and I went to Oxėse to start the seventh migration of the People. They would move to their final staging area on the Shoshone River east of Yellowstone. The migration was always preceded by a substantial herd of animals moving before the People. It would include bison, elk, deer, game birds, small game, and an abundance of fish. But for three days as we started the four-week journey with the tribe, Phile and I sat with the People at their hearth and reinforced the calling of Yelloweye.
And brought them drums. There were close to 600 at the beginning of this migration. We’d estimated that by the time we got them settled in our valley there would be over a thousand. Most of them had heard of the time when white soldiers brought guns against the Indians. But the People had lived three-quarters of a century without ever seeing a whiteman. Other than Phile and me. We stopped by the village every year in their time to reinforce the stories.
We were happy that the occasion of our presence meant drumming and dancing. The People were marching to their own promised land.
Mandy stayed with Wolf Rising and Wolf Riding Woman for a few days while Phile and I went back to the ranch to help with the mares that were coming in for breeding.
We made slow gentle love that night. It had been a warm day and the snow was melting. With the number of mares we had coming into season, you could practically smell the estrus in the air. Making love was everything I wanted. Almost everything.
“Phile, I want to have our baby.” I heard him laugh as we heard the echoes of Mandy and Wolf Riding Woman chiming “Me too!”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Phile said. “About the complications and all. I think I have an idea for getting you pregnant. And no matter what you all say, I don’t think we want all three of you pregnant at the same time. But we’ve got another alternative.”
“What’s that?” I sighed.
“I’m Wolf Rising as well as Phile Bell. We’re the same person in every way except genetically, and I know you enjoy it when it’s that body instead of this one that makes love to you. But we don’t share any genes. If we did, they’d be centuries removed and way past the point of posing a genetic or legal risk. Why don’t we get you pregnant the next time Wolf Rising is on your back? Or your front. Or however you want to do it.”
“Probably every way we can. I’m nearly in season. Can we really start this week?”
“Let’s tell the folks we are going up to check on the condition of the upper pasture this weekend. We’ll go get you knocked up in Oxėse.”
“Me, too,” Mandy said. “I want to be next on the breeding schedule, but for now, I just want to be with my lovers as you unite.”
Well, we did take a few days and while the family thought we were camping up by the thermal spring, we were in another place. It was hard to contain Mandy and Wolf Riding Woman. They wanted to get big in the belly as soon as they could, but we all abided by what Phile had said. It made sense not to have all our babies at one time. I could just imagine overwhelming Moms and Pa with more grandchildren than they had knees to bounce them on.
Phile did his best to keep Wolf Riding Woman and Mandy satisfied as Wolf Rising rode me repeatedly that weekend, pouring his seed into my body.
I came home from that ‘camping’ trip knowing I was pregnant.
Phile and I were approaching our twenty-first birthdays and we knew we would have to leave the ranch to prepare for the coming battle. It would be hard. We were going to move the village to our valley in Oxėse and from that point on, we’d be working with them every day. Our timelines would be in sync and they needed to see us move the herds so they knew what we could do. And after generations being removed from Wolf Riding Woman and Wolf Rising, they would be reunited as well.
“Will we ever see them again?” I asked as I cuddled Phile in our bunkhouse room. “Ever see these walls again? See our parents and our siblings and our niece?”
“I don’t know, precious.” Phile placed his hand over my belly. At just two months along, I wasn’t showing yet, but I could feel my body changing with the new life within it. “I think we will want to show our parents their new grandbaby.”
“Mom Mar looked at me a little strangely yesterday,” I said. “I think she suspects. You know she is always the first to know things like that. She knew Aubrey was pregnant before Aubrey did.”
“I’m not ready to answer questions about parentage yet. I think we should leave all that sealed in the box.”
“I will write a letter just before we leave,” I said. “I just want them all to know we love them.”
We headed up to the house for the first of the birthday celebrations.
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