The Last Herd
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YelloweyeChapter 6: Running With The Herd free porn video
A ranch is work. Work kept the Bell Family sane. Cole drove by way of the Forest Road to the upper pasture to meet with the Forest Service and the oil company. Ashley went to the Wyoming Cattlewomen’s Association meeting she presided over and encouraged the members to call their congressman and senators. Trail riders were checked in, their horses saddled, and sent out on the trail. Kyle and Ramie rounded up the eighty rescues and drove them to the corral with the assistance of their four hired hands. Two were paid by the rescue foundation and two by LK Stables. It took all six of them for a job Caitlin and Phile could have done by themselves. The vet checked the general health of each horse and put his white chalk checkmark on the left flank. Aubrey and Mary Beth cooked, cleaned, and tended the babies—the next generation born to the land.
“I love being a mommy and a ranch wife,” Aubrey sighed. “It would be nice, though, if one of my four lovers had a few minutes for a little afternoon nookie,” she giggled.
“Wait till winter,” Mary Beth laughed.
“Oh, yes. I better see the doc next week and get protected or you’ll have another grandchild next summer. I don’t mind walking bowlegged but I hate waddling. Teach me how you make that roast so tender, Mom Mar.”
“I’m so glad I got one daughter who loves the kitchen as much as I do,” Mary Beth answered. “Of course, between your tortillas and Ramie’s piecrust, I could get an inferiority complex.”
“If it weren’t for Miranda, Ramie wouldn’t know how to bake a pie,” Aubrey said. “She could burn water in a Teflon pan.” The two women worked companionably in the kitchen and taking care of the children all day.
“I can’t believe they’re telling us we have to move our cattle for them so they can get their survey crews in,” Cole complained as they sat for the late-night supper in the summer. “Let us pause to consider the land,” he intoned and the family bowed in silence for a moment before resuming. “It’s like they are afraid of a couple cows.” He ladled shredded roast beef, rice, and gravy onto his tortilla and rolled it up. Their dinners had become a fusion of Aubrey’s Mexican heritage and Mary Beth’s ranch cooking.
“Probably just scared of stepping in a cow pie with their fancy city shoes,” Kyle joked.
“At least Arlen was polite about it. He worked hard to negotiate where they would work and when the cattle needed to be moved,” Ashley said. “I don’t think the Forest Service is any happier about the companies prospecting for oil up there than we are.”
“Damned government. Sold off the mineral rights without ever thinking about how it would affect the natural course of things. The court wouldn’t even stop the pseudo-fracking of Yellowstone. I thought after Standing Rock, things would get better,” Cole said. They all bowed their heads for a moment to remember the lives lost defending the water.
Pseudo-fracking was a technique based on the old system of forcing sand and water deep into crevices of the earth’s mantle to allow oil to flow more freely. The new method focused on releasing the synthetic oils from shale, a reservoir of which had been discovered in the Yellowstone.
“So many protesters have converged on Yellowstone that they closed the gates,” Kyle said.
“That’s illegal, isn’t it?” Mary Beth asked. “Three U.S. Highways run through Yellowstone.”
“Not right now. All traffic has been rerouted to 90 and 15. We’re even seeing traffic increases down here on 80,” Cole said. “I wish we were still in the days where they wanted wolves in the mountains. Now they want oil corporations.”
“World’s gone to hell in a handbasket,” Ashley said.
First Live Report“The government is a trustee of the land, not its owner,” the stately young woman said as she faced the camera. The Bell family sat in front of the television in the family room to watch the news. One of the boarders who had been out to ride mentioned that it appeared the Yellowstone standoff was taking a nasty turn, so they’d taken their dinner to the family room to watch. It was a rare occurrence in the Bell household.
The ribbon at the bottom of the screen identified the woman as ‘Earth Sister (Ho’enáséé’e) of the Northern Cheyenne’. Her dress was not typically native. Her left shoulder was bare and the right shoulder of her blouse was pulled low. The reason was obvious. She had what appeared to be a full torso tattoo that ran down her arm as well. The cameraman was fascinated enough by the tattoo that he got several angles of it. The back of the wolf’s body ran out of sight from her left shoulder blade. The wolf’s face looked out from her collar bone. Her left arm was a full sleeve of the wolf’s shoulder and foreleg all the way to the claws on her left hand. From beneath the blouse on her right, a second wolf peeked out.
The family sat riveted to the television.
“That’s not ... It couldn’t be Caitlin, could it?” Ramie asked. The woman on television had black hair and Ramie was certain she was smaller busted than her sister. But most striking was that beneath the wolf’s snarling mouth was the face of a woman.
“Not unless her nineteenth century body was transferred to this time,” Ashley said. “That’s not my daughter. That’s her spokeswoman.”
“This protest village that sprang up over the winter,” reporter Sarah d’Angelo interrupted the speaker. “Can you tell us how what is now known as Yellowstone Grizzly Village came to be?” Earth Sister ignored her.
“Grandmother Earth will not allow the destruction of her body to continue. The People stand in witness,” she declared, sweeping her hand toward the line of natives standing on the village earthworks behind her. There was a flicker over the faces and the cameraman jerked back to the ranks of protesters. But there were only people there. “Mother will bring her children to totally destroy what you have built. And to you who stand with the corporations raping mother earth, flee. Flee before it is too late and you are trampled beneath the hooves of her army.”
All through the confrontation at Standing Rock years before, no aggressive words had been spoken by the water protectors. As a result, they were sprayed with water cannons in freezing weather, shot with rubber bullets, and devastated by shock grenades. They stood fast until the bulldozers moved forward and proceeded to simply bury those who held the line. No one thought the Native Americans would return to protest yet another destruction of habitat and resources, but during the late winter, the village had materialized in Yellowstone. The official word was that they had trekked in from the North unobserved. No one could figure out how they moved with such speed and stealth. The interview proceeded with a final pan across the protesters to Earth Sister and the prairie beyond her. Bison browsed, but as the camera held on her, the bison began to group together and face the construction site.
Drums began a low rumble in the protest village. As they took on a distinct rhythm that echoed through the basin, more bison came over the rise beyond to join those already in the meadow.
“Are you threatening the workers on the jobsite?” asked the newscaster.
“Look beyond me,” said Earth Sister. “Ésevone, the buffalo are the first to arrive. This is their home. It is not we feeble two-legged people who come to oppose you, but the legions of Mother Earth. Next will come mo’éhe, the elk. Ho’néené’šeohtsévá’e and Ho’néemé’eōhtse, the White Wolf Twins, will come to lead them. But every one of the old ones will join them. Owl, Raven, and Hawk will lead the feathered. But even those who are too small to be seen will infect you. They will enter you through the water. They will eat you from the inside. Your walls will be trampled to dust and the mountain lions will feast on the bones. The rats will chew through your power lines while goats consume your food. No trace of this abomination will remain.” Below her the buffalo began to move forward at a measured pace, not stampeding, but moving like they were intelligent beings on a mission, then stopping to face the drilling site. “Flee,” Earth sister said. “It is your only hope.”
The Family“She called them by name. The Wolf Twins,” Aubrey said into the silence after the news had changed to the latest baseball scores.
“The White Wolf Twins. That has to refer to now-time Caitlin and Phile,” Ramie said.
“There’s only one person that could be.”
“Call Merv Longsteer,” Mary Beth said.
“Mom Mar, Merv is gone,” Ramie said. “He left soon after Phile and Caitlin disappeared. I went down to see him and ask him what he knew. You know Merv. He said we had all the answers in our hands. Then he said that his time was near and he was going to the reservation to join his ancestors.”
“And I’ll bet he took his granddaughter Mandy Stevens with him,” Ashley said. “That has to be her. Who else would tattoo herself with the images of our children in their wolf robes? You could almost see them moving. We need to be up there, Cole.”
“They wouldn’t let us close,” Kyle said. “They blamed the problems at Standing Rock on the outsiders. No one who doesn’t live there is allowed west of Cody.”
“I’ll read tonight,” Mary Beth said. “I feel that reading will lend my strength to Caitlin and Phile. Be safe, my babies.”
Caitlin: The Belly of the WolfWe weren’t finished with the wolves. I still hated them, but somehow, I was now one of them. This massive silver ancestor that we could only call by the name he gave us: Manėstóhó’néhe, Creator Wolf, demanded our obedience, our submission, just as he did that of his pack. We lay down on our bellies with our wolf robes covering us so that we must have looked almost like the wolves in front of us. And he placed a paw on our necks.
I am your nésemoo’o, your spirit guide. I will teach you the way of the wolf and you will lead my pack to the great battle.
We ran with the pack that day. We chased down three deer and when Manėstóhó’néhe had his fill, we tore into the kill and ate with our pack. Of course, we did not have the tearing canine teeth of the wolves, but we had the sharpened iron horseshoe axes that we hacked at the carcass with and tore the raw meat. We journeyed in the belly of the wolf for many miles that day. The wolf knows its pack. The wolf knows its hunger. The wolf knows its territory. This territory—this land, was ours. Communicating with the wolves had to be done on the level of base desires.
We slept with the pack. Our dreams were wolf dreams. The hunt. The kill. The gorge.
Our nésemoo’o led us back to our snow cave in the morning after all the wolves had stuck their noses up our butts. Oddly, when I sniffed at the alpha female, I could tell her scent from the younger females. The males had a stronger scent than the females. But none of us were in season, so the males ignored us.
You, like me, dwell in many ages. We will find each other many times. You will guard my territory and keep it against all others. I will help you call the wolves when it is time to hunt.
With Creator Wolf’s words ringing in our heads, we packed our limited gear—our buffalo robes and bows. We returned to the valley and called our horses. We needed to follow the buffalo south.
When Ramie and Kyle came down from the mountain, they said the wolf problem was solved. But they didn’t bring any pelts or teeth. Ramie wouldn’t say they were dead. All she would say was that we wouldn’t have any more problems with wolves.
I didn’t trust her.
Or maybe I didn’t trust myself. Even having traveled in the belly of the wolf, even having Manėstóhó’néhe as my spirit guide, I hated the wolves.
Of course, we called Mandy. She came out to visit her horse the day before school started. It was a quiet day after the excitement of the hunt. We talked in the stable as she brushed Wildfire and we rubbed down Bells and Bows and the one remaining colt. I cried over the horses.
“Is there somewhere we can have a powwow?” Mandy asked. “A talk like we conference.” I looked at Phile. He was wide-eyed.
When Ramie and Kyle moved into the other side of the bunkhouse with Aubrey, Moms and Pa finally let us move out to the two singles they used to have. First thing Phile did when we were home alone was cut a door between the two apartments. Mom Ash came out to visit me when we were all moved in and Phile was painting the trim. She shook her head.
“We need to have you checked at the doctor to be sure your birth control is up to date,” she said. “I don’t want you pregnant while you are in high school. I figure it will come soon enough as it is.”
“Mom, I wouldn’t be much of a woman if I couldn’t control when I got pregnant,” I laughed. I’d learned all about that from the village wise woman when I became a woman in before-time. It had been a busy time and we’d had to travel to Oxėse and it gave the wise woman and several other older women a chance to give me the whole instruction on being a woman. It wasn’t hard if you paid attention to your body. Mom Ash just shook her head.
I looked at Mandy and just knew what Phile was thinking.
“Scout and make sure the way is clear,” I said. Phile took off and I led Mandy as he signaled it was clear. She was awestruck when she saw our apartment. Not that there was much to it. Two rooms with a big bed in each, thanks to Kyle and Ramie sharing Aubrey as a lover. A chair and bathroom and mini-fridge. I offered Mandy a water and turned to see her stripping. Phile wasn’t much behind her. Mandy had her shirt and bra off before I could get my shirt unbuttoned. She hesitated as she looked at the bed and Phile unbuckling his belt.
“We’re inside and going to meet on the bed, right?” she asked. I nodded. She unfastened her jeans and shoved them, panties and all, down to her ankles. She had to sit on the bed to pull them off her feet. “I’ve never been naked with anyone,” she said. “Except ... Well, when you told me you were naked on your bed when we conferenced, I started getting naked, too. Except we never pointed the cameras down to see that,” she giggled. “Now. Oh fuck! Here I am.”
“And here we both are,” I said as I pulled my socks off. My room was warmest. Ramie told me she always was too hot in the room but Kyle was always too cold in his. With the door open between the two, it mostly balanced out. I was certain that, based on my own reaction, Mandy’s hard nipples weren’t the result of a cold draft.
We all got on the bed and poor Phile was the most embarrassed because his arousal was so obvious. I was sure both Mandy and I were wet, but you couldn’t see that unless you were doing a personal investigation. Nonetheless, Mandy got us focused on business. We told her all about our wolf hunt in before-time and about Creator Wolf. I just couldn’t let go, though. Those damned wolves killed Bells’ foal. My baby. I still wanted to kill them all.
“You’ve got white-itis,” Mandy said. I looked at her like she’d just told me I was an alien. Again. “Whites believe that what happens to them is unique. It’s more important than it is for anyone else.”
“Wait. You’re white,” Phile said.
“I’m less white than you are,” Mandy said. “I just never paid any attention to my heritage. Once I started hanging around with you two, Grandfather Longsteer started teaching me about my heritage. I’m a quarter Cheyenne, just based on his blood. But his wife was half Arapaho. It was my mother—three-quarters Indian—who married a white cowboy. I figured out the percentages and I think that makes me three-eighths Native American. Next summer, I’m going up to Montana to the reservation to study my cultural heritage.”
“Wow! We’re only like a sixty-fourth or a hundred and twenty-eighth, or something. Not enough to be considered of the blood,” Phile said. “It’s in before-time that we are full Cheyenne. Now what about white-itis?”
“We are the People. Tsétsėhéstȧhese, what we call ourselves, just means people. But we also think of the whites as people and the blacks as people, they’re just people who are other than us. When you think about before-time, I’ll bet that you even think of the elk and bison as people. I’m absolutely sure you think of your horses as people. But whites ... They think they are the only people. Some of them don’t even include all whites. It’s only the ones who are in their church or in their social club that are really people,” Mandy said. I had to agree with that. I knew good people and bad people, but they were all people.
“So, if a white baby gets killed, that’s a tragedy. Call out the police and the National Guard and hunt down the murderer,” Mandy continued. “But if a black baby gets killed, well it’s a shame really, but what do you expect?”
“What’s that got to do with this?”
“When you kill a deer for food, you honor it. You thank it for its sacrifice that you can live. You praise its bravery. Because the deer is people. What you forget is that every one of the people of every species that die to feed you is somebody’s baby. But you’ve got white-itis. It’s a shame, but what do you expect?”
“I understand,” Phile said. “But it’s part of the cycle of life. There’s predators and prey. It takes us all.”
“But in the case of one little foal, a beautiful little horse that you gave birth to, she has more value than the people who needed food and killed her. White-itis.”
I looked at Mandy and burst into tears. She and Phile both moved at the same time to wrap me in their arms as I wept for my baby and tried ... I really tried to forgive the wolf.
“You hunted with the wolves. You killed. You ate. You slept with the pups in their den. You were there,” Mandy said. “You know that even if you don’t understand their hearts, they are people. What’s more, you are wolves.”
We fell back on the bed with Mandy and Phile both sort of on top of me. It wasn’t uncomfortable. I kind of liked their weight pressing into me. I kissed one, then the other. Then they kissed each other. I felt the roundness of Mandy’s ass in my hand and I liked it. I felt her caress my breast and I liked that, too. I felt her hand join mine to stroke Phile. Mandy rolled off the bed.
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