CHAPTER 14

     Rover ran across the meadow toward the bison as fast as his short legs would take him. Wolfy, longer and leaner, raced past the pudgy pooch and charged in to the herd, scattering several cows and their calves. The two dogs circled a group of three cows who immediately took up a defensive position, backing their butts up against each other and lowering their horned heads against the attack. Rover uttered a frenzied series of barks, and ran around and around the cows.

      A bull snorted and scraped his hoof on the ground. Wolfy heard the pounding of hooves behind him and turned to see the bull galloping straight at him, its bulky head lowered, horns ready to toss the dog into the air. Wolfy dodged the bull just in time but turned to see another bull taking up the charge. He leapt to the side and the bull rushed past.

     “Wolfy NO!” Connie yelled across the meadow as she and Walker emerged from the trees into the clearing. The horses balked at the sight of the bison and Tanker reared up. Connie held tight and pulled the reins in close. She yelled again, “Come Wolfy.”  The dog stopped and looked in her direction. He looked back at the bison and at Rover circling frantically, then at Connie and back at the bison again. Finally the dog obeyed, slinking back to stand moping by Connie’s mare, while Rover continued his manic attack.

     The bison were tossing about, snorting and pawing and sending up clouds of dirt. Rover was running at their heels and barking like crazy. Walker knew it was useless to call his dog, but he made a show of it anyway for Connie’s sake.

“Come Rovey. Bad dog” he yelled.

“Get him back here right now before he stampedes the herd,” screamed Connie.

“Too late,” Walker yelled back, “here they come.”

     The bison had formed a tight group and were heading right for them, their large heads bobbing up and down as they galloped. Walker jerked the reins and kicked his heels into Coattails’s sides. The horse spun toward the trees and broke into a run. Tanker squealed with fright, and reared up again. This time Connie couldn’t hold on. Her feet flew out of the stirrups, she fell backward over the horse’s rump and hit the ground hard.

     Connie scrambled to her feet and ran for the trees. As she ducked behind the trunk of a Cottonwood, she looked over her shoulder to see the herd make a large circle and head back out across the meadow. The bison crossed the stream, slowed and trotted into the forest on the opposite side of the clearing. She watched the last few cows and calves disappear under the dense green canopy. Connie grabbed her left arm and slumped to the ground. Wolfy ran up, licked her face and whined.

“You ok Rice-a-roni?” Walker strolled over and bent down to examine Connie.

“I think my shoulder’s dislocated,” she said, “but I’m ok, yes.”

“That was something huh?” Walker said.

“Could you help me up please?”

“Oh sure, of course, heh heh. But that was something huh? I never seen so many buffalo.”

He put his arm around Connie’s waist and lifted her to her feet. She steadied herself by leaning her back against the tree trunk, and cradled her left elbow in her right hand.

“I’ll need a sling. Can you get my extra shirt? It’s in the left side saddlebag.”

“I would if I knew where your horse was,” Walker said.

“She’s over there, behind that clump of shrubs.”

Walker strode over to the mare, picked the reins up off the ground and led her back to where Connie stood propped against the tree. He reached in to the saddlebag, pulled out a chambray shirt and handed it to her.

Connie let go of her arm to take the shirt. A stab of pain made her wince and she grabbed her elbow again.

“You’ll have to do it for me,” she told Walker, “just wrap it around, no like this…tie the sleeves around my neck, yes, ok that’s good.”

Walker stepped back and surveyed his work.

“That oughta do it,” he said as if it was his idea.

Connie frowned. She glanced at the darkening sky and said, “Let’s make camp before it gets too dark to see. Why don’t you gather some firewood? You can look for your dog while you’re at it.”

Walker had forgotten all about Rover. The last he’d seen of him, the dog was running alongside the stampeding herd.

“Hmmmp. Wonder where he got to.”

“Probably got trampled,” Connie said, and added under her breath, “like he deserved,”

“Aw I don’t think so, he’s probably still chasin’ em that’s all. He’ll turn up.”

Walker sauntered off into the forest.

“Don’t get lost,” Connie called after him, though she really wished he would.

CHAPTER 15

          Three bulls stood under the cover of the trees at the edge of the meadow to guard against pursuit while the rest of the herd moved slowly away, picking a path through the forest of pine, ash and oak.  Rover didn’t dare challenge the bulls, but he couldn’t bring himself to break off his attack completely, so he slunk through the underbrush, growling and stalking.

“Better go back to your humans mutant dog,” Calvino advised.

“I’ll kill you first,” Rover growled back.

“Save your strength and give it up now, I’m telling you,” Calvino said.

“Why? Are you afraid of me?”

Chenowetho spoke, “You’re no match for us mutt, now go on, get out of here.”

“You all ran from me. You’re just a bunch of scared dumb animals.”

“Dog, I’m losing my patience here,” Calvino said, “You’d better leave before I do something…”

“Ha! You think you can catch me? I’m the smartest, fastest, strongest dog you’ll ever see.”

Rover sat on his haunches and puffed out his chest, but his paunchy belly betrayed his true physical condition.

Chenowetho turned to Calvino and rolled his eyes, “He’s got a pretty big ego for such a sorry excuse for a canine.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Campbello said. He turned his back on the dog and walked into the forest. The others did the same.

“That’s right cowards, run away you stupid hairy cattle. I’m the king! I’m the king! Aoooooo!”

Rover waddled across the meadow, back to where the Ranchers were no doubt waiting to give him a well deserved reward for his bravery and cunning.

“We’re safe now right?” Mark asked Sophia as they gathered with the herd under a gigantic spreading oak.

“For now yes,” she replied.

“Will they keep following us?”

“No.”

“Then it’s ok. Everything’s going to be ok.”

Sophia didn’t answer. She bent her knees and dropped to the ground with a grunt.

“Sophia?”

“Yes Marko?”

“Are dogs part of the Natural Order?”

“Not any more,” Sophia said, “Their ancestors were once wild, but the humans domesticated them. Now dogs live with the White Skins, outside of the Natural Order.”

“Sophia?” Mark said again. “I saw one of the Ranchers. Its skin wasn’t white.”

“You’re right Marko, very good. That was a Black Skin human. Not very long ago the White Skins kept them and treated them like animals, but then they got free.”

“Like me!”

Sophia smiled. “But it wasn’t long before the Black Skins started acting just like the White Skins. And I’ll tell you something else; even the Red Skins act like White Skins now.”

Mark thought about that. “So all humans are bad?”

“No,” Sophia said, some are trying to restore the balance and obey the Natural Order, but there aren’t many of them.”

Libertia came trotting up and said, “Hey Marko, you want to come with me to get some acorns?”

“Sure,” Mark said, then looked at Sophia. She gave him a nod.

     Mark followed Libertia to a place near the edge of the oak’s canopy. A group of calves were gathered around scratching at the dirt to uncover a cache of acorns. On a branch above them an angry squirrel scolded, “That’s mine, mine, mine!”

Between mouthfuls of acorns, the calves recounted the afternoon’s excitement and speculated about what had happened to the humans after they’d been chased into the forest.

“They’re not so tough really, they scare pretty easy anyway,” said Libertia.

“Maybe. But I heard that those humans eat cattle,” said Denholmio.

“Yeah, but first they cut them into little pieces, then burn them up,” Chrisfielda added.

Mark was horrified.

“They do not!” he said.

“Yes they do,” Chrisfielda insisted, my aunt Caponia told me and she’s a Wisdomkeeper.

Mark suddenly lost his appetite.

“Uh I’m going to go get a drink,” he said and wandered away from the group.

     Bending down to sip the clear water from the creek, Mark saw his tagged and torn ears reflected in the water. He thought about the terrible things he’d just heard. Could it be true? If so, it was a good thing he’d left the pasture. He didn’t want to be cut up into pieces and burned and eaten by the Ranchers. He shuddered violently and squeezed his eyes shut. Don’t think about it, he told himself. It’s probably not true anyway. Maybe Chrisfielda was just trying to scare him.

     As dusk gave way to night, the forest darkened into a cozy blackness. Mark snuggled against Sophia and yawned. The cow licked his face and nuzzled his ear. “Goodnight sweet Marko,” she said as the calf drifted off to sleep. Her heart ached. She’d grown attached to the calf, but she knew what had to be done. At midnight Sophia stood up, watched Mark breathing peacefully for a few moments, then walked off to join the rest of the herd moving quietly away through the trees.

     Mark awoke to the sound of birds chirping. The morning sun filtered through the branches of the big oak. He was alone. Mark jumped up and spun around calling, “Sophia! Sophia! Where are you? Libertia? Where is everyone?”

“Marko,” Chenowetho stepped out of the shadows and approached the calf.

“Hew!” Mark said with relief, “I thought you’d left me.”

“You can’t stay with us anymore Marko, the Ranchers have gone for now, but they’ll be back for you. You belong to them.”

“No!” Mark started to cry. “I’m wild now. I’m part of the Natural Order.”

“I’m sorry boy, that’s the way it is. We can’t protect you anymore.”

Chenowetho turned to go.

“Wait!” Mark shouted, “I have to know something.”

Chenowetho stopped and turned his head slightly.

“Do the Ranchers eat cattle? Do they cut them up and burn them?”

“Yes Marko, it’s true, that is your destiny.”

“No!” He shook his head, dropped to his knees and sobbed.

“Goodbye young mutant,” Chenowetho said and disappeared into the forest.

     Mark laid there for an hour sobbing and repeating, “no, no, no” over and over to himself. It was too horrible, all of his friends back in the pasture, destined for slaughter and mutilation. And soon the Ranchers would catch him and return him to the human place to be fattened up for the same fate, while the bison roamed free and had families and grew old and died a natural death after a long and happy life. It wasn’t fair. He stood up and screamed as loud as he could, “I hate the Ranchers!”

“Golly Marko!” Libertia said as she stepped out from behind a shrub.

“Oh Libertia,” Mark gushed and ran over to the little cow. “I’m so glad you’re here. But, what are you doing? Where is everyone?”

“I snuck away when I found out we’d left you behind. I just couldn’t go without saying goodbye.”

The calves touched noses and nuzzled each other’s faces.

“I don’t want you to leave me Libertia, please don’t.”

“I know. I don’t want to leave, but the herd…”

“Stay with me. We can protect each other.”

“They say the Ranchers will come and take you away.”

“No they won’t, we’ll run far away and hide.”

“Krahea Dreamed you were back in the human place, Marko.”

They stood looking into each other’s eyes, not knowing what else to say. After awhile, Libertia turned away.

“I can’t survive without the herd Marko, you know that.”

Mark was desperate not to lose her. He had to think of a way.

“What if we joined another herd?” he said. His heart beat faster with the thought of what he was about to propose. “What if I went back to the pasture and talked to the cattle and got them to come with me?”

“Do you think they’d leave the human place?”

“Why not? I did. And the Ranchers couldn’t possibly come after all of us. We’d just stampede and drive them away like we did yesterday.”

“Oh Marko, that’s a wonderful idea! Then the cattle could be wild and free again like us.”

Mark reared up on his hind legs.

“Yeah, that’s right! That’s what I’m going to do. Come with me Libertia.”

“Mmmm…I don’t know, the herd will be waiting for me to come back, they’ll worry about me. My father…”

“When we get near the pasture we’ll find Clowers and send him back to tell your folks. It’ll be all right, come on, pleeeeze.”

“Oh ok, but I’m not going all the way. I’ll wait for you at the edge of the forest. I’ll wait until you bring the herd.”

“Yay!” Mark said and hopped sideways.

Libertia laughed, “Let’s go then, silly.”

They turned toward the rising sun and began walking.

CHAPTER 16

     Connie sat in Feldon’s office, a white sling wrapped around her waist held her left arm tight to her body. She waited for Feldon to praise her courage and fortitude, having ridden wounded for a good part of the day before reaching the ranger station and being taken to the hospital.

“What the hell went on out there?” Rum said.

“It was that dog of Walker’s, he’s a maniac. And he’s been a terrible influence on Wolfy, I think he may be ruined for herding.”

“You saw the calf?”

“Yes, it was running alongside a bison cow. I saw the eartag just before they went into the forest.”

“Well, now you’re wounded. Colwell’s gone. Oyster and Elliot are preparing for the annual BBQ, and Powers wants Walker to handle those protesters camped out by the gate. That leaves no one to go after the stray. Looks like that calf’s lucky day.”

Connie shook her head.

“Sorry,” she said.

“It’s not your fault, tough situation that’s all. Who ever heard of a calf joining a bison herd?”

Connie frowned.

“Get some rest,” Rum told her. “I gotta brief Walker on the situation with the treehuggers.”

     Connie got up to leave. She struggled to open the heavy springloaded door one handed, looked back at Rum for help. He had picked up the phone and was dialing. He looked up at her and waved as she squeezed through the partially open doorway.

                                                                                                     *   *   *

     “Just stick to what we rehearsed,” Feldon told Walker as the Texan prepared to confront the group of protestors who’d gathered at the edge of the road near the front gate of the Casablanca.

“No problem,” Walker assured him, but he was nervous. He always started out with the best intentions, but often the words didn’t come out the way they were supposed to.

     Feldon stopped his Yukon and Walker got out. He opened the tailgate and pulled out a portable loudspeaker. He turned it on and blew in the mike, “Testing, testing, heh, heh.”

Walker stepped up to the gate, set the loudspeaker on top of a post and climbed up onto a rail. He looked out at the thirty or so people gathered in front of the gate, some with signs that read, “Kill the bill” and “Not on our land.”

“I know you all have some concerns about the new energy bill that Senator Powers is introducing to the state legislature,” Walker said into the mike.

“Yeah, you bet we do,” a man shouted.

“We don’t want drilling on our ranches or public grazing lands,” another man said, “it ruins the water and kills the grass.”

“Now you don’t have to worry see, cause what’s good for the goose is good for the gander,” Walker continued.

Feldon sat up. What did he just say?

“What I mean is, in other words,” Walker jabbed his hand forward like he was sliding cards across an invisible table, “this bill is going to give you people jobs and it’ll be good for the…good for the…economy.”

“It’ll be good for Burton Fuel you mean,” a woman yelled.

Another woman said, “How come Burton Fuel is getting no-bid contracts from the state of Wyoming?”

“Now I know Holly,” Walker said.

Oh no, thought Feldon.

“She’s a nice lady and she cares about our community.”

“Bullshit!” someone yelled.

Walker smirked. He always smirked when he got angry.

“This energy bill is good…it’s a good…it’ll give us energy…and we all need energy.

“We don’t need the kind of drilling operations that pollute our land, water and air,” a woman in front said.

Pollute. Walker remembered what Feldon told him to say to that, “The enviro-mentalists have done studies and assured us that the operators, er operations, will be safe.”

“Bullshit!” someone yelled again.

“Tell Powers to shove it,” a man in the back of the crowd said.

“Look,” Walker said and paused to smirk at the man, “I’ll decide what to tell DC Powers, and I’ll decide what to tell you, and I’ve decided to tell you to…I’m the decider see?”

Feldon groaned. This was a disaster.

The woman in front said, “Think about the future. Don’t you care about the future of Wyoming’s ranchers? Our children’s future?”

Walker replied, “I’m sure you all have better things to do than hang around here worrying about the future. I know I do.”

A woman began chanting, “Not on our land. Not on our land.” The rest of the crowd joined her.

“Kill the bill,” someone else yelled.

“Kill the bill. Kill the bill,” the crowd chanted.

Walker fumbled with the mike, reached down to turn up the volume on the loudspeaker, and said, “No one’s going to kill anyone…anything…any…bill.”

The crowd kept on chanting. I’m losing them thought Walker, how did Feldon say he should wrap this thing up? Oh yeah…

“If you still have some concerns, you can take it up with the legislative board at the state capitol. Thank you all.”

Walker switched off the speaker, climbed down from the gate and strutted back to the car while the crowd went from chanting to booing. He tossed the equipment in back and got into the front seat.

“Jesus Christ Walker!” Feldon threw the car into reverse and shoved his foot into the gas pedal. “What the heckfire was that?”

“Aw they just don’t know what’s good for them right? Damn hippies. Hey, how many activists does it take to change a lightbulb?”

Feldon scowled.

“None,” Walker said, “activists never change anything, heh heh.”

CHAPTER 17

     Mark stood at the fence and surveyed the pasture. The cows and calves were grazing near the old oak where he’d first met Clowers. No sign of the raven. Mark looked around carefully. All clear. He scanned the area one more time, just to be sure. Then he called, “Hey you guys.” No one looked. “Hello over there!” he yelled. Still no response. Mark thought for a moment, then screamed, “Dog!” The cows raised their heads. “Dog!” one of the cows repeated. Another echoed, “Dog!” Everyone was looking around worriedly, and calling warnings out to each other. Mark yelled, “Over here.” One of the calves looked his way and said something to another. They ran over to where Mark stood on the opposite side of the fence. It was Mahood and Hedden.

“Have you seen the dog?” Mahood asked.

“There’s no dog,” Mark said.

Hedden said, “There’s a dog, everyone said so.”

“No,” replied Mark, “That was just me, I wanted to get your attention. I have something to say.”

“Why didn’t you just come over and say it then?” Hedden said.

“The fence is in the way.”

“Hey, what are you doing over there?” Mahood said, “Don’t you know that’s dangerous?”

“Yeah, I know it’s dangerous, but it’s more dangerous to stay in the pasture. The Ranchers are going to kill you and cut you into pieces and burn you.”

The calves laughed.

“You’re crazy. Where’d you come up with that stuff?” Mahood said.

“Yeah, where’d you come up with that stuff?” Hedden said.

“It’s true, the Wisdomkeepers told me. They’re bison and they’ve had a Dreaming and…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Yeah, what are you talking about?”

“Listen,” Mark said, “I know it’s a lot to understand. It took me awhile to get it, but we don’t need the Ranchers to survive if we obey the Natural Order. If you stay here, you’ll all die. You’ve got to get free, run away into the forest.”

The calves laughed again, harder and longer this time.

“OK that’s funny.” Mahood said then turned to Hedden, “Come on let’s go find out if anyone saw that dog,”

“Yeah.”

“You comin?” Mahood asked Mark.

“I can’t. The fence remember?”

“Suit yourself.”

The two calves ran back to the herd.

     This was going to be harder than he thought. He had to get into the pasture and talk to the cows. He really needed Clowers right now. Only the Raven knew how to open the gate. How was he going to get the herd out anyway? He hadn’t thought of that. Maybe if he went to the gate, he’d find a way to get it open.

     Mark walked the perimeter of the fence. Funny he thought, all the times he’d done that on the inside of the pasture, looking for a way out. Now he was trying to find a way in. When he got to the gate he butted it a few times with his head. Shut solid. He studied the loop of rope circling the post. How had Clowers done it? Mark grabbed the rope with his teeth, but the top of the post was too high, he couldn’t lift it over.    

     This was dire. If only he had a Wisdomkeeper to tell him what to do. No, he was going to have to figure this out himself. Mark yawned. He and Libertia had walked most of the night, he hadn’t had much to eat today, and all this thinking was making him tired. He wandered away from the fence toward a clump of junipers and laid down in the shade for a nap.

     When Mark woke up it was late afternoon. He sat there for a few moments wondering what to do. A bird flew by with a stick in its mouth. Mark had an idea. He got up and looked around. There was a branch lying on the ground, about a tail length long with a fork at the end. Perfect. Mark picked up the straight end in his mouth and carried it over to the gate. He positioned the fork and hooked the loop of rope, then lifted. The loop went up, but the stick slipped and he lost it. He tried again, but still couldn’t get it. Mark snagged the loop once more and concentrated on lifting it over the post. He did it!

     Mark pushed the gate open with his shoulder and left it ajar so the herd could get out later. He walked across the pasture, saw a familiar cow and went over to her.

“Hello Mother.”

“Hello Dearie, wonderful grazing today isn’t it?”

“Haven’t you missed me Mother?”

“Why no Dearie, why should I have missed you?”

“Mother! I’ve been gone for days.”

“Really?”

His mother bent to eat. Mark sighed and did the same. He might as well get some food in him. He’d need his strength to lead the herd on the long journey to freedom.

     That evening while everyone was lying around chewing cud, Mark stood up, cleared his throat and said loudly, “I have to tell you all something.”

He looked around to see that he had their attention. It was highly unusual for a young calf to make speeches to the herd. Everyone was looking at him. Mark gulped hard, licked his lips and said, “I’ve been outside the pasture.”

Someone gasped.

“I went toward the sunset, into the wilderness. I met the bison.”

Mark overheard one of the cows saying, “What’s the bison?”

He explained, “Bison are like us, they’re a herd, but wild, not domesticated.”

The cows and calves looked at each other, “domesticated?”

The Wisdomkeepers, that’s the elder bison with the ability to Dream, they saw our destiny, all cattle’s destiny. The Ranchers are going to kill and eat us.”

“What!” a cow said, “What did he say?”

A fat cow named Kurtzie May turned to Mark’s mother, “Elsie Kay, your son is a rabble rouser. You should make him stop.”

A rabble rouser was just about the worst thing one could be called. Elsie Kay wanted to defend her son but, Kurtzie May was right. He simply had to be stopped. Perhaps she could make him listen to reason.

“Don’t be silly Dearie,” his mother spoke up. “We cows have lived in these pastures all our lives and the Ranchers have never killed any of us.”

“But it’s true,” Mark insisted, “they’re going to cut us into pieces and burn us and eat us.”

“This is completely unacceptable,” an ugly old cow named Francie Lynn complained, “I’m not going to sit here and listen to this hateful talk.” She got up and walked away. Several others did the same.

“No wait,” Mark said, “you have to listen to me. We have to leave this pasture, the whole herd. We have to go live in the wild and be part of the Natural Order.”

“I think the kid got too much sun today,” someone said and everyone laughed. A few more cows got up and left. Some of the calves went with them.

“Wait! Don’t leave! We have to get out of here tonight, when it’s dark. I’ve left the gate open so we can leave the pasture.”

“Give it up would you?” said a calf, “No one’s listening.”

It was true. Half of the herd had left, and the other half were dozing or talking. Mark’s efforts to rouse the herd into action had failed. They flatout refused to save themselves. He blurted in frustration, “You’re all going to die. Don’t you understand? You’re all going to die!” He turned and ran out into the middle of the pasture.

     What was he going to do? If he didn’t bring the herd back, Libertia wouldn’t stay with him. She’d want to go back to her own herd. Why wouldn’t anyone listen to him? Didn’t they understand he was trying to help them? How could they care so much about feeling safe that they’d willingly give up their freedom? What was wrong with everybody? Were they just completely stupid? Mark remembered something Sophia had said; cattle had lost their wisdom, they were confused. But why wasn’t he confused? If he was able to understand, why couldn’t everyone else? Had he always been different? Clowers had thought so. The raven had said that cattle were naturally fearful, but Mark cared more about freedom than safety. Mark suddenly came to the realization that although in body he was a Red Angus, in spirit he was more like a bison.

Suddenly a furry head popped out of a nearby hole. “Hey there young Mark,” said Franklin.

“Oh it’s you.” Mark hung his head dejectedly.

“You look a little down fella, what’s the matter?” Franklin crawled out of his hole and inched toward Mark’s nose.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Mark mumbled.

“Eh? What’s that, speak up kid I can’t understand you.”

“Exactly. Look I’m in trouble that’s all, the whole herd’s in trouble. They just don’t know it. They don’t know what’s going to happen to them.”

The prairie dog brightened, wagged his short little tail, and advised, “Do not anticipate trouble, or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight.”

“OK I’m really not in the mood for you right now. I need to figure something out, find a reasonable way to do what I need to do.”

“So convenient a thing it is to be a reasonable creature, since it enables one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind to do.”

Mark drew in a big breath, then let it out in a huff. “If you don’t mind, I really need to be alone for awhile. I’ve got to get this done today, before it’s too late.”

“Yes very good,” Franklin nodded, “never leave till tomorrow what you can do today.”

“Well I can’t do it with you yammering at me! Just go away would you?”

“Begging your pardon sir, but you came to my house. If you wish to avoid my advice, then you go away.”

“Fine! I will.”

“Fine it is. Well done is better than well said.”

But Mark didn’t hear him, as he’d already walked away from the infuriating creature.