Black Plains Bison: A Kananaskis Novel

By Jim Walker

Jessica O'Connell and Sam Barrett from Kananaskis, Death in the Rockies and Spirits of Minnewanka, are back in another high adventure.
Their story is set when Jessica first becomes a Banff Park Warden. She discovers that there is much to learn in her chosen career. She first meets Sam as her mentor while discovering the many sides of becoming a Warden. This, despite pressure from her mother and former boyfriend to adopt more lady-like activities appropriate to her home in the elite Vancouver neighbourhood of Deep Cove. This, rather than gallivanting about in the wilds chasing after, of all things, Bison newly imported into Banff's Panther Valley. She is studying the animals as part of her master’s thesis on climate change.
Jessica and her companions are not the only ones tracking the Bison. Frank Stoner wishes to have a Bison's head mounted on the great stone fireplace of his newly completed home in Montana. He will go to any lengths the get one, including going up against Jessica, Sam and their Warden colleagues.
Unbeknownst to the authorities, he engages the services of a local guide, Bill McCarthy to help him track and kill a Bison bull, which he intends to fly out of the Panther Valley.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jim Walker
• Release date: May 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9780986623684

Jim Walker

Most of my writing centers around the West Coast of Canada, my love for the Rockies and travel. My books reflect the unusual and the exciting one can discover each and every day.

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BLACK PLAINS BISON

(A Kananaskis Novel)

by

Jim Walker

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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Published by

Jim Walker on Smashwords

Black Plains Bison

(A Kananaskis Novel)

Copyright © 2022, James (Jim) R. Walker

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

978-0-9866236-8-4 

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Acknowledgements

Much thanks go to Parks Canada for the Bison background used in this work.

Karsten Heuer and Amber Twoyoungmen's Blogs have been invaluable in providing colour and the world for Jessica and Sam as they pursue their adventures in and around Banff.

Thanks also to the Cessna Flyer Association web site for their extensive and invaluable information on the unique Cessna 337 'Skymaster', its modifications and history.

I would be bereft to not acknowledge my brother, Chief Superintendent Charles Walker, RCMP ret. He was a second set of eyes on 'Black Plains' providing not only editing but insights into the Force and to the Banff area.

Any errors or omissions are those of the author, who hopes that he may be forgiven for taking some storyteller's license.

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Chapter One

Jessica brushes back a stay, auburn lock. She wiggles the old-fashioned appearing brass handle. Its curves and striations highlighted with black lines giving texture to the metal. The door in front of her is made of Lodgepole Pine planks polished to an amber glow. Although she is here outside of the Museum's hours, she finds the door unlocked.

She huffs a breath. Decision made; she eases the entrance open. Poking her head through, she calls out, hello? I'm here to meet … Her eyes go wide.

Whether from the scull's roughly isosceles shape with its broad spread of horns, or its staring back at her from eyeless zygomatic sockets; or the wide, slightly crooked smile from the man standing below it, Jessica cannot say. Her first impression is that of someone she can only describe as, raffish. She chooses to believe it is the Bison head suspended high above him that is eliciting the feeling of her thumping heart or the rush of blood to her cheeks.

She finds herself entering the foyer, his outstretched hand beckoning. Sam Barrett. I take it you're Jessica?

She nods, taking his hand. Thank, uh thank you for arranging …

It's quite something, is it not? Sam says, still holding her hand while waving over his shoulder at the scull.

Jessica is acutely aware of his dry, callused grip. It feels warm, strong but not crushing. He gives her the impression that he has nothing to prove; at least not to her. She returns his smile, lips together and nods, failing anything else more to say or do at this particular instant.

He releases her hand, turning to look up at the exhibit dominating the space. She cannot help thinking, as he turns, that his movements are athletic, almost cat-like. Certainly nothing like Barnaby …

Stop it, Jessica!

Shaking her head, as if it will derail this train of thoughts, she focuses on the skull. Its bones of white calcium phosphate with dark striations glowing from the Sun's rays though the skylight, above.

Sam gestures again over his head. I guess you know that our friend here has been dated from the late Holocene. He glances back to see her raise an eyebrow and nod.

An educated man, I suppose. This should be interesting.

Think of it. That fellow roamed around here almost 4,000 years ago: eating; growing; contesting other Bison; siring baby Bison. He shakes his head, lips pursed. It has been buried untouched all this time. People coming and going in this valley, the town built over it.

He answers her unspoken question; a couple of utility workers uncovered it while replacing a light standard.

She regards the almost intact skull, remains of the horn sheaths still visible. It is missing the lower jaw, but that does not diminish her sense of awe at its magnificence. I gather they left the site otherwise undisturbed?

Yes, he smiles, shaking his head. They had exposed one of the horns. I guess they realized what they had found and stopped everything.

Jessica thinks that he has an extremely expressive face, when he says; I read that the businesses along that stretch bitched about the lack of lighting and parking, like they were going broke. That was for the better part of six weeks while a team of palaeozoologists unearthed the rest of the skull. I do not think that the Craig, he says, referring to the local paper, "missed one day when it did not have a front-page story about the various shop owner's suffering.

This, he throws his hands up, shaking his head, when it was not even peak tourist season. Although around here, you'll find that can be twenty-four / seven / three-sixty-five."

He blows a raspberry. They did not find anything else.

Jessica nods. Yes. I had heard about it from one of the team that had worked on it. Likely the scull had washed down from a higher elevation back when this part of the valley was under water.

Excuse me? Isn't that the subject of your paper?

That gets a raised eyebrow; leaving her thinking that he must have read her application and knew that she had recently graduated with a degree in Environmental Science. Jessica wonders if that is why the Warden's supervisor, Paul Nelson, had paired her with Sam as her mentor for the summer. Perhaps this encounter at the Museum is not all that coincidental. She is supposed to meet him at an up-coming orientation next week. Right now, she is on her own time, or at least that is what she thought.

Although she has the necessary background training for her position, as much as possible, newbies are paired with experienced Wardens, especially if they wish to get into the backcountry. It is something that Jessica had emphasized when applying. She knows about the Bison in the Park. Although recently transplanted plains animals, she still feels a need to work with them.

Uhmm, yes. Her voice sounds shy, even to her. "Dietary and migration patterns of alpine fauna, particularly Bison bison athabascae. I am working on deriving phenotypic characteristics between high altitude Bison and their plains cousins through genetic analysis.

The idea is that the Bison migrated to the higher elevations as the planet warmed up after the last ice age. I am also hoping to get up onto the upper Columbia Icefields to see if we can unearth fossil evidence relating to the current state of the Climate. I think it is part of the reason that Parks Canada decided to take me on."

Sam grins; no doubt. I can also understand why ancient Bison might wish to migrate to cooler altitudes, with those heavy coats. He waves at the skull; there are other differences?

Our friend up there appears to have a larger horn spread than representative skulls of lower altitude specimens, which may be an indicator of a larger animal more capable of weathering temperature extremes at altitude. Unfortunately, there has been other, although somewhat younger, alpine specimens unearthed that are smaller, especially in and around Yellowstone.

She frowns. It may be an outlier.

Understandable. Paul tells me you want to get up there, he points to the skull, and take a sample?

Jessica nods. This has been my first chance. There may be viable DNA in the horn cores. If so, it would be useful for comparison with contemporary animals.

Sam sees the canvass courier style bag suspended from Jessica's shoulder, cross body at her back. What's in there?

Sampling equipment. She pulls the bag around in front, removing what appears to be a portable drill. Uh, it's not what you think.

I think that the museum's Director, Dr. Sherman will frown on you drilling holes in her prized specimen.

It is a core sampler. The hole will be very small. I am planning on doing it from behind where it will not be as visible.

I think not.

Sam turns to the voice. They see a petite woman with a heart shaped face, wide, bright blue eyes framed by heavy, sky-blue framed square glasses. Her expression is set in a pursed lipped glare, her arms crossed over her chest.

Well Mr. Barrett, carrying on with your usual shenanigans, eh.

It is not a question. The woman shakes her head scanning Jessica head to toe, and back again. She regards a slender, athletic, fair complexioned woman whom she concludes is in her mid-twenties. She has a dusting of freckles over wide cheekbones and a slightly turned up nose. Her heavy auburn hair is done up in a braid over her shoulder, its tip well down past her sternum. Brown gold-flecked eyes, with fine laughter creases framing them, calmly regard her in turn.

Who is this? Another of your snow bunnies?

Now Olga. This is one of our new summer Wardens. Jessica O'Connell, meet Olga Sherman. She runs things here.

Jessica replaces the sampler in her bag and holds out her hand.

Hmpf, Olga says, giving it a quick shake.

Jessica's fresh pressed green, short-sleeved uniform shirt has the Parks Canada Beaver logo over her heart and a white Canadian Flag with the bilingual Parks Canada flashes on the sleeves. The shirt is tucked into a pair of multi-pocketed khaki walking shorts. Her feet are shod with a pair of, what appear to Olga, to be well used hiking boots. The outfit makes it somewhat obvious that she is likely not one of Sam's snow bunnies, who in her estimation tend to dress somewhat more provocatively, in less outdoors serviceable outfits. She wishes that he would cease bringing his dates to her museum where they appear to have more interest in Sam than in the exhibits.

Still, Olga is thinking, regarding Jessica’s curves, with a figure like that, she would certainly be a likely candidate.

She emits another, hmpf. I suppose Sam's along to hold the ladder?

Jessica flashes a bright smile, her cheeks dimpling. Well, he appears muscular enough. Sam has the cuffs of his Warden's uniform shirt rolled up revealing solid biceps. Instead of shorts he is wearing jeans with a wide tooled leather belt. The jeans are snug enough on him to reveal other musculature; especially when he turns away, as he is doing now, to anyone who cares to look.

That evokes a twinkle and a quirked cheek from Olga as Sam decides to contemplate one of the exhibit cases. It is all he can do, trapped between the two women who, likely in one case, regard him as if he were one of the exhibits, possibly captioned: Après Ski Charmer.

Jessica returns her attention to Olga. I promise you that I shall take the utmost care. This could prove to be a valuable contribution to the history and story of the Bison in this region, as well as provide additional insights into climate change generally.

Olga still appears unconvinced. We will be the first to receive your results?

Well …

Well, what? She has tiny fists at her waist, leaning in as if she is confronting an unruly schoolchild.

I had promised Arthur Great Bear that I will pass any of my findings to him first.

Olga sees Jessica flush as if slightly embarrassed.

He and the Elders had met and eventually decided to give me permission to tap the scull. You know how it goes.

To which Olga nods.

Unfortunately, it was packed up and shipped here before I got the chance. She cocks her head; I understand it is on loan?

She turns to Sam to explain; "the scull was unearthed on what has been agreed to by both the Federal and Provincial Governments to be Stoney / Montana unceded territory. They held, what could best be described as a repatriation ceremony before passing it to the museum."

How do you know all this?

I was invited to attend.

Olga takes a breath. Her frown deepens. Wait here. For such a tiny woman she appears to Jessica and Sam to stalk quite well with a heavy tread out of the gallery.

How do you know Great Bear?

Sam knows him through his encounters with members of Great Bear's people hunting within the park boundaries. Neither the Indigenous, nor the Parks Canada representatives have come to any satisfactory answers; although Arthur has undertaken to impress upon the hunters to practice some restraint in line with the Stoney / Montana's belief that they are keepers of the land.

He sees her looking up at the exhibit. When I was a teaching assistant at UBC this past winter. He had attended some of the lectures on Global Climate Change.

Small world.

It would seem so.

Sam?

Yes?

Is that a pulley system supporting the skull?

He looks up, sees an off-white web cradle attached to a cable, which is tied off to a cleat on the wall opposite them.

Why can we not lower it?

As if to answer to her question, Olga appears pushing a black, four-wheel steel, audio-visual cart. Well don't just stand there, Sam, as she manoeuvres the cart under the skull and kicks on the wheel locks, you should be strong enough to untie and lower the skull so that this young lady can get her sample.

She glares up at Jessica. "You should have told me that your are an honorary Blackfoot, Red Raven."

Jessica smiles while pulling latex gloves from her bag.

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Chapter Two

Frank Stoner regards his Bison scull perched high above. If anyone were to see his dark expression and pursed lips, they would likely conclude that he is angry about something. Possibly it is the object hanging on the river rock chimney of the huge fireplace that dominates the end wall of the great room. Of course, with anyone that knows him there can be all sorts of issues that chafe, pretty much any time.

Damn.

The white bones with their black eye sockets are absolutely miniscule in its frame upon the multi-story flue ascending to the open raftered cathedral style ceiling high overhead. Might as well toss it on the junk heap out back, he mutters, referring to the refuse left over from their home's completion. He crumples the sheet of Montana's Fish, Wildlife & Parks letterhead, tossing it into the open hearth. It disappears into ashes amid the flames.

Damn. Last time he gets any support from us.

Excuse me, dear? Elyse Stoner says.

Frank looks to his left to see her standing at the side of the fireplace holding a goblet of red wine. She is still wearing her riding clothes, her gloves tucked into the belt.

Trust you had a good ride?

She nods. Took Buckwheat along the river.

His head does a quick bob in return. Shifting his gaze back to the hearth, its heat reflecting his own, he takes up an iron to stab the flames, sending up sparks.

Bob Reigier. He waves the empty envelope at the crumbling remains of the letter. He's very sorry. Nothing he can do. All the licences have been issued. They're not making any exceptions.

So, perhaps next year?

He crumples the envelope, pitching it into the fire. The iron clatters onto the stand. "You know darn well that I shouldn't have to be waiting around while they drag their feet. With all the support we've given him over the years, it is not as if he has to expend any great effort on