Smoke Over Water

The casino may have given the citizens of Horton a reason to play nice. Before the Indians became the biggest employers in his county a decade ago, White says, they didn't get much support over the decades they were conducting ecological studies, reviewing land uses and completing building plans, all of which led to a mid-'90s agreement with the farmers who were on the water board back then. The Kickapoo say that agreement promised them the power to claim land through eminent domain, if necessary. Newspaper clippings from those years show politicians giving leaders such as Steve Cadue a smile and a firm handshake in support of the project. Landowners, however, presented environmental studies to show that the tribe could drill for water on other land. And with water levels falling, it became more difficult to clean the sludge pulled out of the river by the tribe's treatment plant.

Considering his work in healthcare administration, White would seem a knowledgeable source on whether the Kickapoo water situation presents a risk, but he says he doesn't feel qualified to discuss that.

"You go to the reservation and look at it," he says. "Stand on the edge of the river and draw your own conclusions. It's a Third World water supply, not something you'd see in the U.S. But, no, I don't hear medical complaints."

Mainly, complaints have to do with the sovereign reservation's fire station, which has a dismal risk-assessment rating from insurance underwriters because of its inability to fight fires. The Indians say the low water supply prevents them from getting enough water pressure — that's one of the main arguments in favor of a reservoir. But most other fire stations in eastern Kansas have poor ratings for one reason or another, such as communication systems, staffing, equipment and water supply. And the Hiawatha and Fairview fire departments, which also respond to tribal calls, say the Kickapoo are no worse off than they are. The departments all cooperate; each responds to every emergency. All are volunteer operations.

"They don't have any problems. They just needed to build their system better. It's all backwards," says Gary Shear, Hiawatha fire chief. "They've got a nicer truck than I got. And that's all that matters because most of their firefighting is out in the country, where you don't have any hydrants. All that matters is how much you can haul."

Despite the shiny truck, the Kickapoo still need help from the other fire departments because someone is trying to burn them out.

Late on the night of March 10, someone started five more fires across the reservation. No one was injured, but the fires destroyed at least $500,000 in farm equipment.

The fresh burns have only added to worries that, in the struggle over the reservoir, someone's going to get seriously hurt.

"You hope it's kids being dumb, but there's a lot of fear there, too," Williams says. The Bureau of Indian Affairs is investigating, and, this time, Williams expects arrests. "I can't say much about an investigation, but I can say that this time we've got some DNA evidence. We'll know who it is eventually."

Linda Lierz has her own theory.

"My opinion is that they're doing it to themselves. Poor, poor me," she says. "They just want the sympathy."

She says she has heard stories about Indians shooting at farm animals from the highway and lighting bails of hay on fire and throwing them at homes.

She describes herself as the landowner with the loudest mouth, but, considering how she worries over her image in town, she might also be the landowner with the thinnest skin. She says she doesn't miss St. Louis, except for the shopping, and has no desire to move to Horton or Hiawatha. Too many bankers' wives and judgmental people.

"I'm sure they talk about me," Linda says. "Why the holdup? All that. I don't want to deal with it."

What she will deal with, however, is all the legal scrapping. She sees no way to compromise, and if the Kickapoo win, she promises she'll find a way to appeal the decision.

"They say they need this and 'this should be ours to begin with.' Hello! That's a big red flag for land-grabbers." Though they might not be as blunt as Linda Lierz, for most of the property owners this is a case of racist, immoral Indians trying to steal their land. Dexter Davis, the water board president, says the Kickapoo haven't approached landowners in the proper manner or made offers to the 12 landowners who would need to sell.

Evidence shows, however, that Davis either has been misled by the landowners or is lying.