Allen and Kowalsky stood on the shore edge together, but Kowalsky had turned to watch Brennon’s men. Allen faced the river. I stood and raised my camera, focusing in on Allen, bringing his face closer to mine. Allen turned in my direction and when he saw the camera he smiled. I clicked the shutter twice. Maybe I’ll have one good memory of this place, I thought, and sat back down.

“Have you heard back from Fish and Wildlife about your photos?” I asked.

“I did,” Billy said. “Their mountain lion expert wrote and said they were, in his words, ‘very intriguing.’ He’s in Tennessee, but he said come winter to call him after we get a good snow. He said he’d drive over and we could look for tracks.”

“That’s exciting,” I said. “Your sighting may be verified yet.”

“Yes,” Billy said. “It would be nice to be proved right. But that’s not the best part.”

“What’s better?”

“Knowing that despite people like Bryan and Luckadoo there’s still enough wild acreage left up here to hide a few things.”

Billy looked upstream to where Brennon’s men worked.

“At least for a little while longer,” Billy said.

“Maybe more than a little while,” I said. “There are plenty of people who will fight Bryan if he tries to harm this watershed.”

“We’ll see,” Billy said. “But I’ve got a feeling all this is going to make it a hell of a lot harder.”

Across the river Joel emerged from the woods. He was by himself.

“I’m surprised he’s come,” I said.

“He wants to see himself vindicated,” Billy said. “He came in the store yesterday and said he doesn’t believe they’ll be able to raise one portion of that dam without it being knocked down.”

“He might be right,” I replied. “Especially if they try today.”

Four of Brennon’s men hooked ropes onto their belts. Two held jackhammers, two others bracing pins. The men waded into the flat water where Ruth Kowalsky had lost her footing. They moved with care, aiming to plant their feet on sand instead of algae-slick rocks. From the shore Brennon directed them to the places Ronny and Randy had found bedrock and they began to drill.

“Looks like they made up their minds to try,” Billy said.

A clattering suddenly rose from above Wolf Cliff, and a helicopter came into view. The machine hovered above the trees like a dragonfly, its shadow falling on the water as a cameraman leaned out to film. The river rats thrust their middle fingers in the air. Several people on the bank waved.

Billy stood and dusted off the back of his jeans.