The Scalphunters

When trapper Joe Bass (Lancaster) is bushwhacked by Indians who steal his furs and leave him a runaway slave (Davis) in exchange, he’s determined to get his property back. But when the Indians are attacked by outlaws, Joe and his unwanted companion must join forces to retrieve the furs in a startling, action-packed journey of self-discovery that concludes with one of the all-time cinematic come-uppances!
BASS: (SINGING) ♪ My mother
was a Baptist, boys
♪ My father was a Jew
♪ My sister married an orphan
♪ At the Battle of Waterloo
♪ Don’t ever kiss
a Hindu, boys
♪ Unless you are engaged
♪ True love
is never found with girls
♪ Who dance upon the stage
♪ Andy Jackson saw a bear
♪ And chased him up a tree
♪ A hound dog
would’ve caught the fox
♪ If he hadn’t stopped to… ♪
(BIRD CAWING)
♪ My mother
was a Baptist, boys
♪ My father was a Jew
♪ My sister married an orphan
♪ At the Battle of Waterloo ♪
(HORSE SNORTING)
Hello, Two Crows.
(SPEAKING NATIVE
AMERICAN LANGUAGE)
Joe Bass.
(SPEAKING NATIVE
AMERICAN LANGUAGE)
Like hell we will!
Damn your darlin’ eyes,
I spent the whole winter
gettin’ them furs.
And they’re not
for trade here.
(SPEAKING NATIVE
AMERICAN LANGUAGE)
What the hell
do I want with him?
(SPEAKING NATIVE
AMERICAN LANGUAGE)
I don’t care how you got him.
BASS: Wait a minute.
I know he’s as brave as
a buffalo. You don’t have to
slice him up.
I don’t want him.
(SPEAKING NATIVE
AMERICAN LANGUAGE)
(HORSES APPROACHING)
You’re all right, Two Crows.
You ought to be a white man.
They’d make you
captain of the steamboat
and president of the bank.
Just ’cause you own
this damn country.
(SPEAKING NATIVE
AMERICAN LANGUAGE)
(WHOOPING)
(SPEAKING NATIVE
AMERICAN LANGUAGE)
What the hell
are you standing there for?
Can’t you speak English?
No, sir.
What do you mean, no sir?
I mean, I wish I didn’t.
Come over here.
Turn around.
You sure don’t look like
you’re worth no pack horse and
a winter trappin’ of furs.
No, sir, I’m not.
In fact sir,
I’m not worth anything.
What’s your name?
Joseph Winfield Lee.
Formerly of
the Comanche tribe,
until stolen by the Kiowas.
You come a long way from home.
You run away?
As the spirits directed me,
sir.
You don’t talk
like a field slave.
You kill anybody
when you ran off?
No, sir.
That’s contrary to the law.
You think what those Indians
did to me wasn’t contrary
to the law?
Just ’cause I’m trespassin’?
No, sir.
Caveat emptor legalis semper.
Let the buyer beware.
I’ve heard that said.
Where’d you learn
all them wise remarks?
I was privileged to associate,
in my capacity,
with one of
the highest educated families
in Louisiana.
I can read, write and cipher.
Don’t brag on it.
Pick up that bag
and let’s go.
Where we going, sir?
To get my furs back.
Where the hell do you think?
Can I ask you
a question, sir?
How do you plan
to fight all those Kiowas?
By a natural application
of superior tactics,
Massachusetts wit
and left-handed skill.
Oh, you’re gonna
shoot ’em, sir?
Hell, no.
There’s a cask of trade rum
in that pack.
I’d say by tonight them
Indians’ll have themselves
a drunk party
and I’ll get back
my pack horse and furs.
What about me, sir?
I’ll just sell you
to the highest bidder.
Could you make that
to a Comanche, sir?
You seem to have an uncommon
prejudice against service
for the white-skinned race.
I don’t mean to be narrow
in my attitude.
Could I ask you
what’s your name, sir?
Joe Bass.
Well, Mr. Bass, couldn’t you
kind of consider me as
a captured Comanche?
I came on my own two feet
as far as the Comanches.
It was my intention
to circle South
as far as Mexico.
The Mexicans have a law
against the slavery trade.
And since those Indians
captured me
from other Indians
I have now
got full Indian citizenship.
Joseph Lee,
you ever study the law?
No, sir.
Well, neither did I.
But you ain’t got
a chance in hell
of calling yourself an Indian.
You’re an African.
Slave by employment,
black by color.
You ain’t gonna walk
good enough for me
to catch up with them Kiowas.
I guess I’m a failure
as a pack horse, sir.
Man don’t ever say
“quit,” Joseph Lee.
No sir, he doesn’t.
Hand me that bag.
Grab onto her tail.
(LAUGHTER)
Now, you see the superiority
of the white-skinned race
when it comes to walking.
LEE: Yes, sir.
My ancestors were famous
as liars, walkers
and patriotic
in their sensibilities.
Are you patriotic?
Yes, sir.
Fourth of July, I generally
set up quite a holler.
BASS: Of course, if someone
was to come along now,
they might figure you owned me
because you’re ridin’
and I’m walkin’.
But that’s not the case, sir.
In a manner of speakin’ you
are the converted image
of my pack horse
and fur pelts.
I’d take good care of them,
wouldn’t I?
Yes, sir, because they’re
a valuable wholesale
and retail commodity.
You wouldn’t be thinking
of grabbin’ those reins and
runnin’ off, now, would you?
I doubt it, sir.
You doubt it?
I’m not sure of the direction.
I haven’t got any food,
and as a Comanche, I might run
into those Kiowas again.
(WHISTLING)
(NEIGHING)
(PANTING)
Tired?
(RIFLE SHOT)
You hear that?
I’d say Two Crows and his
boys are down in that gully
having a hell of a time.
You just sit here and rest
for about five minutes
while I take a look.
Pick ’em up.
(RIFLE SHOT)
I decided what I’m gonna
do with you.
Sell me into Egypt,
like the children of Israel?
I’m gonna sell you
in St. Louis.
You’ll retail out for about 15
mules and 10 bales of cotton.
Yes, sir.
And don’t try to run off,
’cause you can’t get nowhere.
Yes, sir.
And shut up!
Yes, sir.
(RIFLE SHOT)
(LAUGHTER)
(WHOOPING)
(RIFLE SHOT)
(RIFLE SHOT)
(RUSTLING)
Shh.
Well, Mr. Bass.
There they are.
Go get ’em.
Just like that, huh?
I’d say they’re considerably
under the influence.
You ever fight
12 drunk Indians?
No, sir,
but I’d like to see it done.
As a Comanche, what I’d do
is run off their horses.
You’re an African Comanche,
but you’re right.
You see that brush?
Yes, sir.
I want you to get down there.
Right now, sir?
When it starts getting dark.
That’s mesquite. It’ll burn.
I want you to start a fire.
And what’ll you do, sir?
When they go for the fire,
I’ll ride down
and stampede their horses.
They’ll be so drunk
I’ll get my pack horse
and furs and be gone.
Can I say something,
Mr. Bass?
What is it?
If you’re gonna sell me back
into being a runaway slave,
you can do it all yourself.
Of course, if you help me
get to Mexico
then maybe I’ll help you.
Joseph Lee,
I expect that someday
you’ll be President
of The Farmers
and Merchants Bank
of Omaha, Nebraska.
But right now,
you’re goin’ down there
and do exactly as I tell ya.
Or I’ll skin
your black carcass!
(GUN FIRING)
(YELLING)
Get my rifle. Go on.
(MAN SCREAMING)
Over there!
(GRUNTING)
(SCREAMING)
(RIFLES FIRING)
(GROANS)
All right, let’s go!
Scalp hunters.
Collect a $25 bounty
on Indian scalps.
Men, women and children,
like jackals.
Territory government pays it.
Dirtiest, rottenest trade
ever turned a dollar.
BASS: Let’s go.
LEE: Where we going, sir?
After ’em.
After ’em?
How the hell do you think
I’m gonna get my furs back
if l don’t go after ’em?
Mr. Bass, I do not intend
to put up with
any more of this walking.
Now, either you slow down
and talk to me
or maybe I’ll just have
to pull you off that horse
and knock you
on your high-priced pants!
Are you deaf as well as dumb,
Mr. Bass?
Mr. Bass,
you’re threatening my temper.
Mr. Bass!
Mr. Bass.
Sir, why are you
so bound and determined
to catch up
with those murdering people?
Haven’t you got
anything else to do?
A man of my character just
don’t say somethin’,
then not do it.
I am completely
and absolutely exhausted
and empty. I got
to have something to eat.
You ate yesterday.
Mr. Bass,
I have been trained
in the habit of eating each
and every individual day.
Right there that proves
you ain’t a Comanche.
A Comanche would just keep
on goin’ until he died.
Never say a word.
I am so hungry,
I could eat a frog or a snake!
Comanches do. Regular.
But I’m not a Comanche!
Aha!
Oh.
Oh, Mr. Bass.
You see that?
(BIRD CAWS)
Sago lily.
Just like an onion.
Finest thing you ever saw.
You see this?
Sagebrush.
Grows where nothing else will.
Make Indian tea out of
the leaves, smoke the bark,
burn the wood
and makes a passable fodder
for stock.
Look around you, Joseph Lee.
All natural creation.
Maguey.
Makes a fine soap
for washing down a squaw.
Brings the bloom of sunrise
to her skin.
Watch this.
A needle and thread
for sewing things.
Here we are, Joseph Lee
in the Garden of Eden,
just like Adam and Eve.
Chokecherries.
Oh, they make a fine pudding.
You like pudding?
(SPITTING)
Joseph Lee,
(BIRD CRYING)
let’s eat.
(CLUCKING)
Go get ’em, Joseph Lee.
I’m hungry.
I guess a slave like you
got fed pretty good, livin’
in that big house kitchen.
Sleepin’ in a bed every night.
Maybe you should have
stayed where you was.
(SPEAKING LATIN)
Better beans in freedom,
than cake in slavery.
Aesop.
And he was a slave himself,
back in the Greek times.
Trouble with you is
you read too many books.
You call it right
when a man’s a slave, owned,
worked, beat all the time?
Natural state of affairs,
Joseph Lee.
The black man started being
a slave in the Bible.
If God didn’t want it
that way, I don’t suppose
God woulda done it.
Consult your Bible.
God didn’t invent slavery,
Egyptians did. Sold
all the children of Israel.
Ain’t the way
I read scripture.
What about Julius Caesar?
Who?
Julius Caesar.
He was an Italian.
He made slaves
out of all you Englishmen.
Julius Caesar made slaves out
of every kind of white man.
Put chains on their necks,
dragged them back to Rome
and fed ’em to the lions.
And Africans like me,
we didn’t care that much
for Julius Caesar.
Never heard of him.
That’s ’cause you don’t
know how to read.
I could bust you
in the jaw for that.
Wouldn’t change it any.
And it wouldn’t change you
into a white man.
You oughta get
that through your head!
Let’s see
you write your name.
Let’s see you feed yourself,
Julius Caesar.
(MUSIC PLAYING ON GUITAR )
You wait here, Joseph Lee.
I want to take
a look around.
Mr. Bass…
Shh.
Mr. Bass, you go down there
and those people
will just kill
the literal hell out of you!
Now, don’t you move.
Mr. Bass!
Ssh!
(HORSE WHINNYING)
(LAUGHTER)
(HORSE WHINNIES)
Go on.
Get out of here.
(SNIFFING)
Howie!
How many times
I got to tell ya?
Get the sack of hair
off my wagon!
HOWIE: Now, Kate, honey,
them scalps is worth
$25 apiece.
That don’t mean we gotta
sleep with ’em, does it?
Now, that little ole
smell bother you?
And that ain’t all
that’s botherin’ me.
Kate! Kate!
FRANK: Morning, Miss Kate.
MAN: Morning, Mr. Howie.
HOWIE: Shut up!
Go get yourself
some clothes on.
I don’t want these men
gettin’ any horny notions.
Stop talking like
a Baptist preacher.
If I had half the boots
been stuck under my bed,
I bet I could outfit
the United States Cavalry!
Now you hush, and get back
inside that wagon!
I’m sick of that damn wagon.
Me washing with no bathtub,
g-gettin’ rats in my hair.
KATE: I’m livin
like a squaw, Howie.
Kate, honey.
Look. Look at my skin.
It’s getting all dried up.
Pretty soon, I’m gonna
look like an old prune.
Well, I like prunes.
Howie, I’m warnin’ you.
I’m warnin’ ya.
If you don’t find someplace
pretty soon I can live decent,
you’re gonna find yourself
sleepin’ with your horse.
Oh, Kate, honey,
it’s gonna be all right.
And stop chewin’
that damn tobacco!
You ever kiss anybody
chewed tobacco?
(SPITS)
(MEN LAUGHING)
Ain’t she a darling?
Now, you get
those horses hitched
and let’s move!
HOWIE: Move!
(GROANING)
HOWIE: Damn.
(CRYING)
Now, Kate, honey,
don’t get your pretty little
dooley-dooley all fussed up.
We was gonna have
a fancy house
and servants. At last I was
gonna live like a lady.
I shoulda stayed
where I was.
You know,
I knew a lady one time.
Chewed snuff.
Redhead.
She’d stand on a piano
and sing songs. Damn.
Do you know, you got as much
feelings as a bald-headed hog.
Oh, Kate, honey.
There’s no cause for you
to talk that way.
I’m gonna
get you these things.
I told you.
(YELLING)
(WHINING)
LEE: Whoops!
(SCREAMING)
(GROANS)
Gentlemen, am I glad
to see you.
I–I have been chased and run
over every rock pile
for the past 50 miles.
I saw your wagons
and I knew right there
my trials
and tribulations were over.
Anybody with ya?
Uh, nobody sir.
Nobody at all.
What’s your name, son?
Black Feather, sir.
I was adopted into
the Wolf Tribe of
the Comanche nation.
Uh, the Kiowa set up
a terrible slaughter on us
three days ago.
I escaped.
I’ll just travel along
with you gentlemen
till I get back to my tribe.
What’ll he sell for, Jed?
Oh, about a thousand,
fifteen hundred on the
Galveston block, if he ain’t
lame or got belly worms.
Throw a rope on him.
Let’s move out!
LEE: Hey! Hey…
Wait! Wait a minute!
Wait a minute!
(SCREAMING)
Just wait!
I started out in life
a prosperous,
good-lookin’ trapper.
And now, by God, I ain’t
even got a slave no more.
(YELLING)
(HORSES WHINNYING)
JED: Whoa!
KATE: Hey, hold on.
Get up there, boy, come on.
LEE: No, sir.
JED: I said, get up there!
Right now.
LEE: No, sir!
What the hell’s
goin’ on down here,
a camp meeting?
Sir, I’m not going to be
worth anything like this.
Ruined on my feet.
Drag him!
LEE: Sir.
I’ll be worth much more
to you if you let me ride.
Besides, I’m slowing you down
holding you back.
Howie, that’s the first
good sense I heard today.
Now, you hush up, Kate,
and keep readin’
your stargazer book
and let me run my business.
Then why don’t you run it
like you knew
what you was doin’?
Look at that.
Ain’t she pretty?
All right, let him ride.
Move ’em out
LEE: Thank you, sir.
Go!
(SINGING SONG IN SPANISH)
Not now, Julius Caesar.
HOWIE: Headin’ for Church,
sonny?
Oh, no, sir, Mr. Howie.
(STAMMERING) I was just,
uh, uh, uh, making a botanical
study, you might say.
You see that, Mr. Howie?
Sage brush. Grows
where nothing else will.
Make Indian tea
from the leaves,
burn the wood,
smoke the bark, and makes
passable fodder for stock.
Oh, look around you,
Mr. Howie.
All natural creation!
Here we are in
the Garden of Eden.
Just like Adam and Eve.
Get that water
the hell back up there!
Uh, yes, sir, Mr. Howie.
Uh, yes, sir.
(GUITAR PLAYING)
Beans, beans, beans.
I’m gonna look like beans.
HOWIE: There’s nothin’ wrong
with beans, honey.
I like beans.
Oh, what I wouldn’t give
for a decent meal
on a white linen tablecloth
all fixed up nice.
I listened to you, Jim Howie
and I’m endin’ up bouncin’
over every rock in creation!
My hair’s all snarled up
like a dish mop.
When are we gonna start livin’
in some kinda style?
When the hell we
ever gonna get to Mexico?
Miss Kate,
you see that?
Maguey.
Did you know that
that makes a fine soap
for a lady’s care?
Brings the bloom of sunrise
to her skin.
Used in the ancient times
by the Queen of Sheba
to restore the natural oils
to her beautiful blonde hair.
You mean
that old common cactus?
Yes, Miss Kate.
Botanical name,
Vir pluribus undulatum,
known to the Comanches
as maguey.
Really? You mean…
Yes, Miss Kate.
You sure this cactus stuff
won’t fade out
my natural color
and turn it
into somethin’ horsey?
LEE: Oh, oh, no, Miss Kate.
On the contrary.
Did I hear you say
you were going to Mexico?
KATE: Got to.
All the law in the country
is lookin’ for me
and Jim Howie.
Oh, Mexico is a
wonderful country, Miss Kate.
The haciendas and all that.
You been to Mexico?
Uh, no, ma’am.
But I speak the language.
Buenos dias, buenas noches,
muchas gracias.
Why, you’ll be right in
the most high-toned society,
Miss Kate. A lady.
First thing, I’m gonna get rid
of this busted-out corset
and buy me
some real fancy clothes.
Of course, you’ll need
quality trained servants.
Takes proper servants
to put on
the right style for a lady.
Oh?
You mean like you.
I’d be honored
to serve you, Miss Kate.
Jim Howie’s dead set
on selling you on
the Galveston block.
No way around that.
Jim Howie
don’t always do everything
he sets his mind to.
You have a very
interesting texture
to your hair, Miss Kate.
Fine, light gossamer.
Like Helen of Troy.
(GUITAR PLAYING)
Well, he fixed it
pretty fancy, huh?
I wonder what he’s after.
(LAUGHTER)
FRANK: Mighty fine, boys.
Sago lily, Mr. Howie.
Just like an onion.
Finest thing you ever saw.
What the hell are you after?
After, Mr. Howie? After?
He just likes
to serve quality folk.
(LAUGHING) Quality folk?
God damn!
I don’t wanna hear
that mush mouth, honey.
I got a rope burn
on my neck
where they tried to hang me
one time in Sacramento.
And the first time I met you
was in Ma Hogan’s tent,
remember?
And you weren’t
exactly sewing canvas.
You hush your mouth,
Jim Howie.
And I never worked no tent.
Damn it, can’t you say
I’m pretty or somethin’?
Kate, honey,
you’re the prettiest woman
that ever wore garters
and crossed her legs.
Howie, stop chewin’
that tobacco.
Come on, honey.
Let’s dance.
(LAUGHING)
(HOOTING)
FRANK: You look
mighty elegant, Miss Kate.
(ALL WHOOPING)
(HOOTING)
(GUN FIRING)
(WHOOPING)
(SPEAKING IN SPANISH)
(MUSIC STOPS)
(LAUGHING)
Come on, Joseph Lee.
Fight him!
Boy, let’s see you fight.
MAN: Punch him again!
MAN: Yeah.
(MEN LAUGHING)
PAUL: Come on boy. Fight him.
Lee, fight him.
That’s it, fight him!
You can fight him, boy.
Come on.
Move in on him. Bust him one.
MAN: Come on, boy. Come on.
(GRUNTING)
(PEOPLE GROANING)
(LAUGHING)
(ALL LAUGHING)
Come on, Julius Caesar.
Fight him.
FRANK: Get up, boy.
MAN: Come on, grab him.
Grab him. Hit him again.
Hit him.
Hit him.
(YELLING)
(GUNSHOT)
The old daddy wolf
does the cuttin’ here.
You don’t wanna damage
our $1,500 property.
You go soak your head,
boy.
KATE: Gimme back my feathers.
Grab your partners!
(LAUGHING)
(FROGS CROAKING)
Julius Caesar, you’re
a hell of a dancing man,
but you sure can’t fight.
Now, you see that guard
over there by the horses?
I want you to go over there
and give him some of
that fancy talk of yours.
I’ll sneak up behind him
and bust him one.
Then we’ll load up my furs
and get out of here.
The both of us.
Damn you, Lee.
Aren’t you listenin’?
I’m not sure if I am or not,
Mr. Bass.
What?
I like you, Mr. Bass.
You treated me decently
and you’re a religious man.
You know all about Ham,
the black man in the Bible.
Adam and Eve.
What the hell
are you talkin’ about?
These people are going
to Mexico, Mr. Bass.
You mean…
You mean, you’re going to stay
with these… These heathens?
Well, you see, Mr. Bass…
Mr. Bass, you better consult
Mr. Howie. He owns me now.
Why, damn your
black hide, I’d…
Ssh!
(PEOPLE ALL CHATTERING)
(GUITAR PLAYING)
Oh, Mr. Bass.
Well, then you’ll understand.
A slave
has no choice of masters.
Just goes
to the highest bidder.
Mr. Howie’s bidding Mexico.
Fine country, Mexico.
I think I’ll like it.
No slavery there.
I ought to kill you…
I’ll show that damned
ungrateful black Comanche.
You stay here and be quiet
and stop eatin’ that tree.
Unless you’re gonna
double-cross me, too!
(HORSE SNORTING)
Go get Yancy some food.
(HORSE NEIGHING)
YANCY: All right.
Easy does it.
Yeah. There you go. Whoa, boy.
Easy, boy. Easy.
(HUMMING)
Shh!
Hey, Ya…
Hey, Yancy!
Howie!
Howie!
Come on, jughead.
This is no time to quit on me!
All right, what was it?
A renegade Apache.
Joe Bass, you socialize
with these people, you’re
gonna get yourself scalped.
Miss Kate,
the night air’s chill.
You need a wrap.
KATE: (SINGING)
♪ Angels up above
♪ They with happy hearts
♪ And cheerful faces meet
♪ In our lovely Deseret,
♪ Where the saints
of God have met
♪ Tea and coffee
and tobacco we despise
(GROANING)
♪ Drink no liquor yet we eat
♪ Just a very little meat
(GROANING)
♪ We are seeking
to be great and good and wise
♪ We should not forget to pray
Please, Kate.
Please,
will you stop singing
those Mormon songs at me!
KATE: Get out of that bed,
you lazy bum!
It’s Sunday morning.
(COUGHING)
KATE: (SINGING)
♪ And we always be polite
(COUGHING)
♪ And treat everybody right
♪ And in every way…
Now Kate,
you ain’t even a Mormon,
so will you shut up?
♪ Hark, hark, harked
His angels voices ♪
(YELLING)
(LAUGHING)
(PEOPLE LAUGHING)
Anything funny?
(ACCORDION SOUNDS)
Get me some water, boy.
Yes, sir.
(GUNSHOT)
(GUNSHOT)
BASS (ECHOING): Don’t reach
for nothin’, Mister!
Walk up here, Mister.
Or I’ll kill you
where you stand!
Easy.
I knew it. It’s the law.
Hmm. No, ma’am.
Uh, I mean, I hope not,
Miss Kate.
BASS: That’s close enough.
Take your hat off.
Now reach up
and scratch your ear.
Scratch your…
You wanna keep that ear,
turn that pack horse loose and
get on about your business.
Them beaver skins is mine.
Yours!
I risked my life
for them pelts.
I fought me a dozen Kiowas!
You slaughtered ’em.
You scalp huntin’ bastard.
Now, hold on.
That’s no cause
to dry-gulch a man,
steal his furs,
wreck his water barrel.
You know that ain’t fair!
(GUNSHOT)
Cut loose that pack horse!
I ain’t gonna kill you,
but I ought to.
Now, go on back there
and keep movin’.
Walk!
(YELLING)
You crook!
HOWIE: Let’s get outta here.
That bushwhackin’ half-breed!
We’ll give his fur back.
Dead.
Let’s move it out!
(MEN YELLING)
Frank! Get Yuma
and flank that half-breed!
HOWIE: Hold it here!
Keep that first wagon movin’.
Oh, Mr. Bass, those furs
aren’t worth it.
What’d you say, boy?
LEE: Nothing, Mr. Howie.
Nothing.
(NEIGHING)
BASS: Hey, bushwhacker.
Set your gun down.
(WIND WHISTLING)
(GRUNTING)
Howie, we gotta…
Will you shut up, Kate?
Lookin’ for me,
scalp hunter?
Lay that gun down
(LAUGHING)
Damn. Frank’s got him!
(WHISTLING)
There he is! Come on, get him!
(HORSE NEIGHING)
(GUNS FIRING)
Renegade Apache, huh?
Renegade Apache, my ass!
Giddap! Giddap there!
(ROCKS FALLING)
(MEN SHOUTING)
Clear them rocks away.
BASS (ECHOING): Hey, Mister!
Cut loose that pack horse
and furs!
Move that big wagon,
I’ll roll half this mountain
down on you!
(ECHOING) Whoa!
Hold on, friend!
You’ve got me!
Kate, get off that wagon.
Howie, be careful.
Now you, Kate, hush up.
All right, move
that wagon on down.
All right. Hold on.
We’re going!
Okay, boy, gimme a hand.
Mount your horses.
Get in that wagon. Git.
Giddap!
(YELLING)
(WHINNYING)
Virgo’s passed Jupiter
in the third phase.
What?
Sagittarius and Cassiopeia
are in the ascendancy.
That’s right.
How do you know that?
Miss Kate, when is
Mr. Howie’s birthday?
He’s a Leo. July 27.
July 27th.
I was afraid of that.
Are you sure Virgo
is passing Jupiter?
Uh, Mr. Howie
is a strong, powerful man.
A Leo.
A natural leader, right?
Did you know that
Napoleon Bonaparte
was a Leo, too, Miss Kate?
The same… The same birthday
as Mr. Howie.
And when he met Waterloo.
Destroyed.
Virgo had passed Jupiter
in the third phase.
That’s gonna happen now.
Did you really study all about
reading the stars?
Well, as–as far back
as the Egyptian pharaohs
and, uh, the Hebrew prophets,
down through, uh, Persia,
Babylon and Mesopotamia.
(IMITATING YIDDISH)
(STAMMERING) Tell me,
how’s it gonna be for
a Virgo? I–I–I’m a Virgo.
Pythagoras.
Huh?
I see a cloud,
a threatening cloud.
Traveling, traveling.
Miss Kate,
I hate to tell you this…
Tell me, tell me.
Something evil following us.
It’s been following us
for days.
Something covered with
hair?
The Indian scalps.
(STAMMERING) The pack horse
with those damn fur pelts.
Right.
An evil combination.
The spirit of the dead Kiowas
and the zodiac configuration
of the stars.
What do you mean?
Look.
Jupiter moving in on Pluto.
Disaster. Death.
A man killed. Mr. Howie.
Jim?
Listen, I read the stars.
I–I didn’t see where
all that was happening.
But where did you look?
Right here. Page…
Oh, Miss Kate.
I mean here.
Pisces, Libra, Capricorn
and here. Those furs
and that man out there
are the Scorpio satanic
configuration of death
for Jim Howie.
And the stars never lie.
But Howie don’t believe
in all…
He don’t believe
in anything.
But we do.
And we know it’s true.
Don’t we?
Then it’s up to us.
You.
Me?
How?
Cut loose that pack horse.
Get rid of those evil furs.
Tonight.
I’ll do it.
(HORSE WHINNYING)
Damn.
Damn, that’s good and vile.
(HORSE WHINNIES)
You think I’m going to give up
on those people, don’t you?
Well, I ain’t.
You got any ideas about
what we ought to do next?
Hell, you never have no ideas
about nothin’.
Hey, get out of there!
You damned jughead.
That’s loco weed.
You’ll run around
like a coyote with his
guts hangin’ out!
Let’s see your mouth.
Open it up. Come on.
Open it up.
If you ate any of that stuff,
we’re both done for.
You’ll be crazy in the head
and I’ll be walkin’.
How do you feel?
Well, I might as well
find out.
If you throw me, I’ll know
you had a belly full.
Whoa, now, whoa.
Take it easy.
(WHINNYING)
(SIGHS)
Well, I guess
you’re all right.
Now, will you bend down
and pick up my rifle?
I’m tired.
(SNORTS)
By God, you have got an idea.
(MEN CALLING)
(MEN WHISTLING)
(MEN SHOUTING)
Get those other horses
in here!
Bring that group
around, Pedro.
MAN 1: Get ’em up
in the water. Bring ’em up,
bring ’em up!
MAN 2: Come on, move.
MAN 3: Get ’em all in.
MAN 4: Pull your horse down.
MAN 5: Hey! Hey!
(SNORTING)
(NEIGHING)
(MEN YELLING)
(HORSE NEIGHING)
Whoa! Whoa!
(HORSES NEIGHING FRANTICALLY)
What the…
MAN 6: Hey, he’s down,
watch out!
(SHOUTING IN SPANISH)
(WHINNYING FRANTICALLY)
KATE: Howie! Howie!
What the hell is wrong
with them horses?
Get ’em out of the water!
(CLAMORING)
Whoa, there, whoa!
(HORSE SNORTING)
Well, don’t look at me
like that. It was your idea.
Dirty, rotten, Comanche trick!
(NEIGHING)
How are you gonna
keep those skins?
If I have to pack ’em
on your back.
They ain’t worth it.
You’re gonna have us all
crawlin’ on our bellies!
Hey, if you don’t shut up,
I’m gonna kick
your backside right up
to your shoulder blades.
LEE: Can I say something,
Mr. Howie?
Wouldn’t it make a whole lot
more sense just to give
the man his furs back?
Well, I’ll be damned!
Now I’ve heard everything.
What in hell is this world
comin’ to?
If you give that man
his furs back,
he’ll let you alone.
I know him, Mr. Howie.
You what?
What?
I was with the Indians when
they took his furs from him.
All he wants is what’s his.
Well, well, well, well.
I’m a curly-haired,
blue-eyed angel.
(GRUNTS)
And you’re in with him.
No, sir.
But I know him, Mr. Howie.
Let me go talk to him.
Maybe he’ll listen to me.
Howie, listen to him.
Just how long you think
you’re gonna stay alive?
Look at your men.
Well,
is that the way you want it?
Jed?
Well, Yancy?
I just wanna get to Mexico.
Alive.
It makes sense.
Four men we rode with, dead.
Loco’d our horses,
and now you want me
to give him the furs?
Well, I don’t care!
Hell, give him everything!
Go ahead!
And I hope
he blows your head off!
Hey! You want to give him
my whiskey, too, huh?
Catch more flies with honey
than with vinegar, Mr. Howie.
Jim Howie’s boys
are gonna quit.
Split the guts of five
United States Marshals.
Took half the banks of Kansas.
Took a whole town
full of Chink miners.
And jumped more Indians than
the United States Cavalry.
And Jim Howie’s boys
are gonna quit.
One man.
For one man.
Mr. Bass?
Mr. Bass, where are you?
Mr. Bass, speak to me!
Damn you, Joe Bass.
(PANTING)
I wonder why I go to
all this trouble.
Getting myself abused by that
bloodthirsty Jim Howie.
And all for you
and your measly furs,
you ill-mannered,
unlettered oaf.
Mr. Bass, speak up!
I know you’re out there
sneakin’ around.
Who do you think you are,
Daniel Boone?
(YELLS)
What’s the matter,
Julius Caesar,
you get lost again?
Mr. Bass, please.
You ruin a man’s mortal
insides when you do that.
What are you here for?
To help them people kill me?
They don’t want to kill you
anymore, Mr. Bass.
They just want you
to stop killing them.
They’re gonna leave off
your furs and go.
Why, you lyin’, split-tongued
African Comanche.
You think I’d trust
anything you say?
I’d as soon take the word of
that scalp hunter and his
whore before I’d believe you.
I’m telling the truth,
Mr. Bass. They’ve had
enough of you.
Don’t you lie to me no more,
Joseph Lee. I’ll get my furs.
And you and them people
will be a bellyful
for the vultures.
(CLINKING)
What you got there?
What you got there?
Good drinkin’ whiskey.
Mr. Howie’s own stock.
Thought you could maybe
use a drink about now.
You sure made your way
with those people.
You got their whiskey.
You’re doin’ their
bushwhackin’ plans for ’em.
Sashayin’ along
with that fancy woman.
Throw you in the pig pen
and you’d come out
Vice President of the hogs.
Whew!
Joseph Lee, if God ever made
two better inventions
than a pretty woman
and a bottle of whiskey,
I ain’t heard of it.
Mr. Bass,
could I have a drink of that?
If I was to give you
a drink of this whiskey,
it’d be like pourin’ it
out there in the sand.
Whiskey’s a man’s drink,
and you ain’t no man.
You ain’t no part of a man.
You’re a mealy-mouthed,
shuffle-butt slave and you
picked yourself a master.
So don’t go askin’
to take a drink with a man.
You think mighty well
of yourself, don’t you,
Joe Bass?
You know how long you would
last as a colored man?
About one minute.
Trouble with all your
fightin’, Joe Bass, is you
don’t know when you’ve won.
Go ahead, kill us all.
Lee!
Tell ’em to move out
and leave my furs.
Joseph Lee!
Come back here.
Tell ’em from here.
(ECHOING)
Mr. Howie! Move out!
That’s everybody.
Phew!
Don’t seem right, that man
doin’ an honest thing.
They just want to be
rid of you.
Where you goin’,
Julius Caesar?
With them, where I aimed to.
To Mexico.
Wait a minute.
(GUN COCKING)
Walk on down there
ahead of me.
Hold it there.
Tie her up.
(VULTURE CROAKING)
Go on, scat!
This one won’t scalp
any more Indians.
Look out!
I busted his skull! I done it!
(LAUGHING) Yahoo!
(GRUNTING)
The old daddy wolf,
he done it! He done it.
Mr. Howie.
Okay…
(HUMMING)
(NEIGHING)
No.
You killed my man
and you loco’d my horses.
And now, I got to punish you.
I’m gonna take your hair,
and I’m gonna peel your pretty
white hide, one inch at
a time. Ain’t that darlin’?
Quit talkin’,
you ugly bastard,
and do it.
I’m gonna hear you cry
and I’m gonna hear you beg.
No, Mr. Howie!
Get off of me!
You don’t have to kill him,
Mr. Howie!
I’m gonna kill you, too.
Now, my boy, you…
You put that knife down.
Cut him, Lee!
Cut him!
Now, you listen to me.
Now, listen to me, my boy.
I won’t lift his hair.
I won’t sell ya
and I’ll let you go on with me
to Mexico.
Now drop that knife, boy.
Don’t listen to him!
You really don’t want to
kill a man.
HOWIE: Do ya?
I mean, do ya?
Now you’re usin’
your head, boy.
Lee!
Get it, Lee!
(GUN FIRES)
(WHOOPING)
(LAUGHING)
Joseph Lee, you did it!
(LAUGHING) By God
and by thunder, you did It!
BASS: I couldn’t be more proud
if you was my own grandpa!
(BASS LAUGHS)
Joseph Lee, you sure
deserve that drink.
Now, untie me.
(BURPS)
He sure takin’
his own sweet time.
JED: You worryin’
about Jim Howie?
Jed, you stick him, he bleeds
like anybody else.
That may be true, only he’s
the one who’s gonna be doin’
all the stickin’.
Why isn’t he back here by now?
You really think Jim Howie’s
gonna take aim at a man
and then miss?
One man, no.
But there are two back there.
Joe Bass, you’re lookin’
at a rich man.
I might just hire
you and your horse
to take me to Mexico.
Isn’t there anything
you want to say to me?
Like “Thank you, Mr. Lee”?
Go to hell.
Don’t you mean, “Go to hell,
Mister Lee”?
Oh, quit actin’
like a damn fool.
First time in your life
you ever had guts enough
to fight and then ya…
Ya puff around like a
pregnant squaw. Now, untie me!
What the hell
are you doin’, Lee?
Damn you, Lee,
that’s my horse! Get off him.
Damn your hide, Lee!
What are you up to?
Sic transit gloria mundi.
To the victor belong
the spoils, Joe Bass.
Now–Now, wait a minute,
Joseph Lee.
Now, just a minute.
Let’s you and I palaver.
BASS: We’ve had some
differences in the past,
but–but you wouldn’t
leave a man alone here
in the desert,
all tied up with the…
With the crawlin’ snakes.
(STAMMERING) And the
bloodthirsty buzzards
and the hungry coyotes.
You wouldn’t do that.
Leave me to die
all alone? Would ya?
You’re Joe Bass.
You can move mountains.
You’ll be all right.
Get off my horse,
you son of a bitch!
You know something,
Joe Bass?
You are the most stubborn,
mule-headed,
love-yourself man that
ever walked God’s creation.
And someday,
somebody just naturally
oughta bust some sense
into your hardboned head!
(WHISTLING)
Somebody oughta just naturally
bust some sense into
my hardboned head, huh?
You wanna try?
(HORSES NEIGHING)
BASS: Hey, you jughead,
come back here!
(WHISTLING)
(GRUNTS)
Yeah. I wanna try.
(GRUNTS)
(GASPS)
All right, Joseph Lee,
get ’em up.
Protect yourself.
Get your hands higher.
(GRUNTING)
Indian fightin’. Like it?
Let me help you.
(MUTTERING)
(GROANS)
(LEE SCREAMING)
Can’t see, can ya?
(BASS YELLING)
That ain’t fair!
(BOTH GASPING)
I’m gonna bust you
on the jaw for that.
“Now you see the superiority
of the white-skinned race.”
“You’re a mealy-mouthed,
shuffle-butt slave.”
(WHISTLES)
Whoa! Whoa!
Damn you, Jim Howie.
What the hell was so important
about a bunch of lousy furs?
Kate.
Over there.
(GRUNTING)
Time!
(BASS AND LEE GRUNTING)
(ULULATING)
Wait a minute.
I hear something.
(GUN FIRING)
Wait a minute.
(GUNS FIRING)
I really do hear something.
What the hell.
They’re only men.
Indian man, I don’t know
how many wives you got now.
But you’re gonna have yourself
the damndest white squaw
in the Kiowa nation.
(GRUNTING)
You black Comanche!
Where are you?
(MEN LAUGHING)
(SPEAKING NATIVE LANGUAGE)
Joe Bass.
Two Crows!
Ain’t you dead?
(SPEAKING NATIVE LANGUAGE)
(PANTING)
I’m sure glad to see you,
Two Crows.
Hey, wait a minute.
Them’s my furs!
(SPEAKING IN NATIVE LANGUAGE)
Good hunting, Joe Bass.
(LAUGHS)
(INDIANS WHOOPING)
Hey, wait a minute!
BASS: Wait a minute!
Wait! Hold it!
You dirty redskins!
(HORSE SNUFFLING)
You know somethin’?
There’s two cases of whiskey
on that wagon.
I’d say by tonight,
there’s gonna be
a lot of drunk Indians.