Near sandy Henryetta, Okla. (pop. 6,000), in the Old Indian Territory, Jackson Barnett, full-blooded Creek, worked his 160-acre allotment by day, rested his tired bones in a not-too-clean four-room shack by night. He was old#&151;60, maybe 70—he didn't know exactly. He was poor. He was illiterate. But he was a Govern-ment ward and he had learned that, so long as he stayed a good Indian, the Govern-ment would provide.
One day he saw strange men poking around his farm. They tapped the ground and from down below where you bury people, oil flowed out....