We all nodded and off we went, climbing the south side of Blackie Butte. I could tell by the trail already leading up to it that we were heading up to the third terrace, which was about twenty feet below a layer of coal, perhaps the famous “Z” coal Pick had told us about, which marked the boundary created by the famous dino-killing meteor.
Pick stopped and indicated we should fan out around the terrace, which was covered with several big blue tarps. Laura and Tanya slowly and carefully removed the tarps, revealing an area of disturbed dirt about thirty feet square. I thought I could see the hint of something that was curved just beneath the dirt but I wasn’t certain. Pick knelt near it. He had a paint brush and whisked some of the dirt aside. The curve turned out to be a series of vertebra. “This is the articulated tail of an adult Tyrannosaur,” he said, then whisked away some more dirt, revealing a large bone. “Based on its size, I believe this is the tibia of another adult,” Pick said.
I knew enough to know this was kind of breathtaking. Laura had told me only about thirty-five T. Rexes had ever been found and here were two. Pick added to the breathtaking quality of it by saying, “We have also found other bones that indicate there is a juvenile Tyrannosaur here.”
“Why so many?” Jeanette asked.
Pick smiled a tight smile. “I believe this is a T. rex nest, Mrs. Coulter.”
Laura held up a glass jar. “These are a few bones from the juvenile. Actually, it’s a baby. We think maybe it was only a few weeks old.”
“This site could reveal more about how Tyrannosaurs lived than any other since modern paleontology began,” Pick said. “But it is very much a challenge. It could cover much more than this terrace. That means we’ve got to remove all this stuff to get to it.”
I realized that Pick was talking about taking the top off Blackie Butte. There was at least fifty feet rising above the step we were on. I shook my head at the enormity of it. Pick saw me and said, “What is it, Mike?”
“I was just thinking about what it would take to move all that dirt.”
He smiled and said, “I hope we don’t have to do that but I intend to follow wherever the bones lead me.”
“Well,” I said, “you either dig into the side or take off the top. I don’t see any other way.”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it, Mike,” Pick said.
“Dr. Pickford,” Jeanette said. “Blackie Butte is a prominent feature on my ranch. I’m not sure I want it dug up to this extent.”
Pick looked surprised by Jeanette’s remark. I had told him he needed to talk to her and now maybe he understood why. “Let’s take a break,” he said. “Be careful where you step, please.”
We all carefully dispersed while Pick and Jeanette took a walk. Actually, they climbed to the top of the butte. Just as I was thinking about going down to the tents, Jeanette called, “Mike, would you mind coming up?” I didn’t mind. “I wanted you in on this,” Jeanette said while I caught my breath.
Pick said, “This is an amazing find, Mrs. Coulter.”
For some reason, they were both being very formal with each other. “I’m sure it is, Dr. Pickford,” Jeanette answered. “But Blackie Butte has been a landmark on the Square C for a very long time. How would you feel if I came to your house and chopped down an old tree in your yard?”
“I don’t have a house,” Pick said, “but if I had a tree that would provide major scientific dividends if it was chopped down, I would cut it down myself. Besides, even in the worst case, I don’t think we’d have to take the whole top off this hill, just a portion of one side.”
Jeanette considered that, then asked, “How much do you think these skeletons are worth?”
Pick looked unhappy, then said, “It’s impossible to put a price on them. They could very well revolutionize paleontology.”
“Then they must be worth a great deal,” Jeanette said.
Pick looked at me but all I could do was shrug. He was on his own. “We need to come to terms,” he said at last.
“Indeed we do,” Jeanette answered. “This is my land. That means those bones belong to me and I don’t want you to dig them up unless the Square C gets something out of it.”
“I won’t sell these bones, Mrs. Coulter!” Pick declared.
“Then who will?” Jeanette calmly asked. “Tell me and I’ll call them.”
Pick turned pale, evident even through his tan. “Mrs. Coulter, you can’t let anyone know about this! If you did and it got out, we’d be covered up with the media. There might even be people who would try to steal the bones.”