Montana Standoff. Nadia Nichols

map hung, she stared for a moment, a frown furrowing her brow. At length, she turned to face the population of Moose Horn. She cleared her throat—a small, vulnerable sound in the expectant silence.

      “Hello. My name is Molly Ferguson and I’m an attorney with the law firm of Taintor, Skelton and Goldstein, which is representing this mining project,” she began in a surprisingly professional and well-modulated voice that provided stark contrast to her somewhat disheveled appearance. “I apologize for being late, but my car went off the road about five miles from here. I wasn’t here to listen to your comments, but Mr. Manning just attempted to summarize them for me. Your reservations regarding this project are completely understandable. It’s only natural that you wouldn’t want to see the rural character of your town changed or your way of life threatened, but please consider the benefits that would be realized.

      “The Sourdough Mining Company stands on firm ground, and has since it was founded in 1877. An estimated one to two hundred million dollars worth of copper and iron ore is hidden within that mountain. This project would employ over one hundred and fifty people for ten to fifteen years,” she continued, apparently not seeing the confused glances being exchanged by members of the town, nor hearing the undercurrent of voices, one of which muttered, right next to Steven, “Sourdough Mining Company? What the hell’s she talking about?” and oblivious to Ken Manning, who had risen half out of his seat behind her wearing an expression that Steven could only describe as ominous.

      “These are jobs that would pay employees a decent, livable wage. We’re not talking about criminals and hoodlums invading your town. We’re talking about honest, hardworking men and women, people like yourselves, who certainly deserve the chance to live a good life.

      “And let me emphasize that your fears of pollution are completely unfounded. All of the mine’s waste products will be stored in a special reservoir and capped with rock and cement when the project is completed. There will be absolutely no leachate to contaminate your rivers and streams. Engineers have been designing these special reservoirs to protect places like your watershed. It’s state-of-the-art technology and absolutely safe.

      “The increased tax base this mine generates would allow you to build your own elementary school, house your library in its own building, update your firehouse and your town hall. Businesses would move in to help support the larger population. A gas station, grocery and hardware stores. Moose Horn might actually become a place on the map.”

      “It already is!” a woman called out.

      “Well, no offense intended, but I couldn’t find it on mine,” Molly said.

      “That’s no surprise,” a man guffawed. “You don’t even know what mining company you’re supposed to be representing!” The citizens of Moose Horn burst into derisive laughter as Molly Ferguson’s face flushed crimson. She turned toward Manning with a stricken expression, but he had slumped back into his seat, dropped his face into his hands and was shaking his head slowly back and forth. Steven moved quickly to the front of the room and the laughter instantly died.

      “Good evening,” he said in the resulting hush. “My name is Steven Young Bear, and I’m an environmental attorney. I’d like to say a few things if I may. First and foremost, I was deeply saddened to hear that Sam Blackmore was killed earlier today in an accident on Madison Mountain. I’ve known him for many years, and I was asked to come here this evening to speak on his behalf. There was no time to prepare, so I must ask you to please bear with me.

      “Ms. Ferguson has stated that up to one to two hundred million dollars worth of copper and iron ore would be hauled out of here by the Sourdough Mining Company, but unless Ken Manning has changed horses in midstream, I believe we’re talking about a different mine and a different mining company here. Ken is currently the chief geologist for New Millennium Mining Company, a subsidiary of the Texas-based conglomerate, Condor International. If what I’ve read in the newspapers is correct, what they propose to do here is remove the entire top of Madison Mountain and take out between six to eight hundred million dollars in silver and gold.

      “I don’t know that much about this particular project, but I’m familiar with some of their other mines, and I don’t doubt those figures. They’ve mined a lot of ore out of a lot of mountains in this country. They’ve left a lot of messes, too. Big, state-of-the-art industrial-mining messes. In Colorado they’ve left a mess with an estimated cleanup cost of two hundred million dollars after taking one hundred and twenty million in metals out of the land, and a cyanide leak in one of their state-of-the-art reservoirs killed every living organism in a seventeen-mile stretch of the Arrowsink River.

      “In New Mexico this very same company filed another claim on public lands and took thirty million out in metals, during which time leaking acid wiped out the entire fishery in the Rogue River. The cleanup cost at this abandoned mine is expected to run close to three hundred million dollars and may become a Superfund site, paid for by our federal tax dollars. That’s money out of your pocket and mine.

      “Their Soldier Mountain Mine right here in Montana is contaminating the drinking water and causing high cancer rates among the Sioux on the Rocky Ridge Reservation.

      “You folks are right to question the wisdom of situating an open pit mine in the middle of a beautiful wilderness area. Madison Mountain deserves better than to be sacrificed to the corporate bank. As a nation we need to speak as one voice to force our government to overhaul the archaic mining laws that allow such plundering of our public lands. We need to start now, today, right here, with twenty-seven voices. It may not seem like much, but it’s a beginning. We have a big job to do,” he concluded, “and we had better get to it.” He returned to the rear of the room to a deafening burst of applause.

      Manning rose from his seat as if to offer a rebuttal but the first selectman beat him to the punch. “The next town meeting to continue discussing this proposal is scheduled for September tenth,” Brown said. “I hope that Mr. Manning and his attorney will be able to attend. This is the beginning of a process that is new to all of us, and I hope, too, that Mr. Young Bear can guide us through it. Thank you all for coming and for voicing your opinions.”

      The meeting broke up and there was a slow shuffle of people out the door. Steven looked around for Molly, but she was standing beside Ken Manning, her face very still and pale as Manning addressed her. He could only imagine what Manning was saying. Rob Brown and Amy Littlefield approached with a score of other people in tow. “So what do we do now?” Brown asked.

      “You can start by putting some emergency zoning into place. New Millennium will be looking to house over three hundred contractors in the immediate area. Zone your town to prohibit temporary cluster housing, rapid growth and sprawl. Zone the hell out of it. You say the water samples were destroyed?”

      “They were in Sam Blackmore’s car,” Brown said, “and his car was totaled. It was hauled to a place called Maffick’s Salvage in Jefferson. Maybe the samples survived, but…”

      “I’ll check with the local police,” Steven said. “But if they didn’t, you’ll need to take fresh samples from every year-round or intermittent creek or seep that would be impacted by this mine, and the samples need to be kept in a safe place. They’re the most important evidence you’ll ever have against this company. And then you need to start making noise. A lot of noise. The more people who know about this, the better. The more press releases that get into the newspapers, the better. Invite heavy-hitting journalists here to tour the site.

      “We need to get the Yellowstone Coalition on the bandwagon, along with the Rocky Mountain Conservancy and the Beartooth Alliance. They can all help your cause. I’ll do what I can to get the ball rolling on that end. Every phone call can make a difference. If you can do a mailing, do it. Start a petition drive. Get signatures, names and addresses of all voters who oppose the mine.”

      “We have no money,” Brown stated bluntly. “We all work, but our jobs barely put food on the table.”

      “Money is what a campaign like this needs,” Steven said. “You need to find backing. Environmentally friendly businesses, sportsmen and women who hunt and fish this area. Neighboring communities, the tourism