LAS VEGAS -- Ryan Bundy, leaning his left arm on a courtroom podium, told jurors Wednesday that his remark to do "whatever it takes'' wasn't a threat but a statement of his determination to protect his family's rights as the government prepared to round up his father's cattle.

"We own the grazing rights. We own the water rights on that area, and we don't pay rent for something we own,'' he said in an hourlong opening statement as the federal trial continued in the April 2014 armed standoff near his father's ranch.

Ryan Bundy, his father Cliven Bundy, brother Ammon Bundy and co-defendant Ryan Payne have pleaded not guilty to conspiracy, assault on a federal officer, weapons and other charges in the confrontation as rangers tried to enforce court orders to corral Bundy cows trespassing on public land near Bunkerville.

Prosecutors accuse the Bundys of blocking convoys involved in the cattle impoundment and amassing a "small army of militia'' to fight the operation that capped more than 20 years of Cliven Bundy's refusal to pay grazing fees and penalties.

Ryan Bundy, freshly released from jail to a halfway house after nearly two years in custody, began by displaying a photo of his wife and eight children, then asked the jurors to transport themselves from the congestion and noise of Las Vegas to the much quieter desert where his life began.

"I want to take you out into the hills and see the beauty of our land, the beautiful sunsets ... the setting moon, the bush. The desert is a harsh place sometimes. Picture yourself on a horse. ... Place yourself there,'' he said. "Feel the freedom.''

He said the government won't be able to prove his family meant to harm the government. Instead, he said, they were standing up for their rights.

"There was no conspiracy to impede, to injure, to harm,'' said Bundy, who is representing himself. "No, we're just trying to protect our life, our liberty, the rights we do own, our livelihood, our heritage.''

He characterized the government as abusing its power and called those who came from across the country to support his family "heroes'' for saving their lives.

Bundy said his family was skeptical of the U.S. Bureau of Land Management and believed its true intent was to manage his father out of business. He noted that the bureau had successfully rounded up about 400 head of cattle, so he questioned how he, his father, brothers and co-defendants could be accused of preventing the impoundment.

By early April, he said federal snipers trained rifles on him and the Bundy ranch and officers harassed members of his family, including brothers David and Ammon and an aunt.

If any of the Bundy supporters arrived at the dried-up wash off Interstate 15 about 80 miles northeast of Las Vegas just for the opportunity to point guns at a government official, that's "unbeknownst to us,'' Bundy said.

"I can't speak for every person there,'' he added.

He pledged to continue to "do whatever it takes'' to protect his rights, urged jurors to "stand up for freedom'' and invited them to visit his family's ranch when the trial is done.

"I love this land,'' he said. "I am a free man and I intend to stay so.''

Payne's defense attorney Ryan Norwood told jurors that Payne didn't know the Bundys until he received an email from a friend on April 7, 2014, that read, "Have you seen this?"

Attached was an article from "The Last American Patriot" headlined, "Armed Feds Prepare for Showdown with Nevada Cattle Rancher."

That day, Payne called Cliven Bundy, who shared that he was surrounded, so Payne got in his 1993 Jeep Cherokee and headed from Montana to Nevada, Norwood said.

The attorney displayed a photo of Payne holding his two young children. Norwood described Payne's Army service, with two tours in Iraq and a disenchantment with the government when he returned. Payne has a tattoo on his left arm to mark the death of four friends in the war, and his army nickname, "Buddy Lee,'' man of action, his lawyer said. He sees a gun as a tool for protection and carries one everywhere he goes, even to buy milk.

Norwood said Payne, as co-founder of Operation Mutual Aid, looked on the group as a "means to defend people" who couldn't defend themselves. While the government said Payne recruited militia members to thwart the cattle roundup and provoke a battle, Norwood said Payne drew them to protect the Bundys and prevent a fight.

He wanted some people to have guns at the site where Bundy supporters faced off with federal officers on April 12, 2014 "for the same reason agents did, to be safe," Norwood said.

"He wanted people to be able to protest. He wanted everyone to be safe. ... Keeping people safe is not a crime,'' Norwood said.

Ammon Bundy's lawyers chose to waive their openings until prosecutors conclude their presentation of evidence, noting they're still waiting for requested evidence involving FBI emails.

Prosecutors called their first witness in the afternoon, Mary Jo Rugwell, who was the Bureau of Land Management's district manager for southern Nevada from April 2008 through August 2012.

When she arrived, she said, she was briefed by staff about Cliven Bundy's "continuous trespass."

He and his father had paid for grazing permits for 20 years, she said, but Cliven Bundy refused to get a new 10-year permit in 1993 for the 154,000-acre federal tract then known as the Bunkerville Allotment when the government determined that the desert tortoise was a threatened species.

Rugwell said Bundy likely would have been allowed to have the same number of cows, slightly over 100, but with new seasonal grazing restrictions to protect the tortoise. But Bundy ignored repeated notices until the government filed a lawsuit in 1998 and got its first court order for Bundy to remove his cattle.

Rugwell led jurors through the 1998 court order, entered as government Exhibit No. 1. It described how the United States gained title to the land in question in 1848, when Mexico ceded it to the United States. Bundy responded by saying the federal government lacked jurisdiction.

When a federal officer once placed a notice on Cliven Bundy's dashboard, he stepped from his truck and threw it on the ground and one of his sons tore it up, Rugwell said.

For more than a decade, the Bureau of Land Management didn't enforce the order, trying to reach out to Cliven Bundy with no luck, she said. "Any action could have resulted in physical confrontation,'' Rugwell testified.

By December 2011, Rugwell said she made the call to impound Bundy's cattle, describing it as a "last resort."

"Nothing else that I tried worked," she said.

The agency hired a contractor to fly over the area and counted about 900 head of cattle, including many that had wandered as far south as Lake Mead. The cattle were a danger to recreational areas, and damaging vegetation and cultural resources, she said.

The Clark County sheriff even tried to seek a settlement with Cliven Bundy, she said. Her federal agency proposed gathering and selling Bundy's cattle and giving him the proceeds, while shouldering the cost of the impoundment. The other option was for the federal agency to move the cattle to Bundy's 160-acre ranch. She said he showed no interest.

-- Maxine Bernstein

mbernstein@oregonian.com

503-221-8212

@maxoregonian