Tribes weigh values against opportunities

HEE-HEE STONE MONUMENT, Okanogan County — Reaching to the four directions with an eagle feather fan, Jake Atkins offers a prayer for this spot, long held sacred.

The Hee-Hee Stone southwest of Buckhorn Mountain was traditionally regarded as lucky by Indian people, who for generations would leave something precious when passing by: a lock of hair, a prayer, tobacco.

Miners, figuring the stone must mark a mother lode, dynamited it in 1905, leaving only fragments. Today, a wooden monument marks the spot.

Mining has long been a source of controversy for the Confederated Tribes of the Colville Reservation.

These days, it poses another dilemma. While the tribe opposes plans to mine gold on nearby Buckhorn Mountain, some tribal leaders say the Colville could strike it rich by reviving a proposed mine in the heart of what's left of its reservation.

The Colville lost the entire northern half of their reservation in 1891 after gold was discovered there. The U.S. government took back 1.5 million acres of their reservation, paying $1 an acre.

The Colville tribe helped stop the so-called Crown Jewel open-pit mine proposal on Buckhorn in the late 1990s. Many members remain opposed to a new proposal for an underground mine.

"Our stance has not changed," said Harvey Moses Jr., tribal chairman. "In the minds of the majority of the Colville Confederated Tribes, it is just a disaster waiting to happen."

The Colville confederation is composed of a dozen bands that retain hunting and fishing rights as well as some water rights in the north half.

Opposition to the Crown Jewel project was so strong the tribe enacted a moratorium on mining within its reservation in 1995.

"Do we want to poke holes in Mother Earth until she dies? Or deface her?" said Atkins, a member of the San Poil band, whose ancestors refused to sign the deal selling the north half. "We have lost so much. With this mining, we will only lose more."

But the tribe's resolve may be tested.

The tribe owns one of the world's largest deposits of molybdenum on Mount Tolman, rising near Keller, Ferry County, on the reservation.

Moly, as it's called, is used primarily in cast iron, steel and super alloys to enhance performance. Prices for moly today are at near record highs, and that has awakened interest on the reservation in mining Mount Tolman.

"Potentially, it's major for us," said D.R. Michel, natural-resources committee chair for the Colville Tribal Business Council, who supports lifting the moratorium.

The tribe initiated a plan to mine the deposit more than 20 years ago, and did extensive test drilling. But the price for moly crashed, killing the venture in 1982.

A consultant's report recently presented to the council predicted revenues from tens to hundreds of millions per year to the tribe, depending on moly prices and the deal arranged with a development partner.

The mine as previously envisioned would have created 450 full-time jobs just to operate the mine over an estimated 60-year life. The mine would have covered 3,650 acres, including an 800-acre open pit and about 2,600 acres of waste rock and tailings.

The Colville expect to put the question of breaking the moratorium to a referendum vote March 18. To some, the tribe's very identity is at stake.

Many tribal members still go to the mountains, including Buckhorn, to hunt deer, gather plants for medicines and subsistence use, and to pray.

Tribal-council member Deb Louie said he will oppose the mine even if the tribe votes to lift the moratorium.

"It goes against all the concepts of the people," Louie said. "The oneness with the land, that we are caretakers of the land, of being here to provide a place for the animals, to whom we are very close. That is the teachings that are handed down. And you have to show respect for them."