It happened because they were living in prophecy, the sort the old women liked to discuss round the kitchen table while she, and the other young, pretended not to hear.
One was of Zuzeca Sapa, a black snake that would destroy the world unless her people stood up to defeat it.
Back then the snake was taken to be the new Interstate highway, surfaced with black tar.
Now it was clearly the pipeline, 1,170 miles long and costing $3.8bn, intended to carry black oil from the North Dakota shale-oil fields to Illinois.
On the way it threatened 380 archaeological sites; 26 were in the 40-mile stretch round the meeting of the Missouri and Cannonball rivers,
where roots had first grown out of her feet.
This was her father’s land. As a child she had noted every feature which later, as historian of the Standing Rock Sioux, it became her job to catalogue and preserve.
这是她父亲的土地。孩提时代，她就注意到了那里的每一处特征，后来，作为立岩苏族（Standing Rock Sioux）历史学家，她的任务就是整理和保存这些特征。
The low rolling hills carried the remains of Arikara villages, with effigies arranged in stones and prayers laid for years on the ground.
On the peak above her camp her father was buried, along with one of her sons.
At the confluence of the rivers was a whirlpool that carved the sand into great spheres strewn along the banks, the sacred stones.
Here beside the Cannonball river her grandfather had sun dances with Wise Spirit, her uncle climbed trees for honeycombs and the family hauled up water every day, to drink and live.
Soon afterwards that history was part-destroyed by the damming of the Missouri,
which left the water unsafe to drink, the whirlpool flat and bleached trees, skeletons of spirits, poking from the water.
The pipeline map provided by the company showed nothing there; her people’s footprints had been taken out of the earth.