Chato's Land

Synopsis: After Pardon Chato, a mestizo, kills a US marshal in self-defense, a posse pursues him, but as the white volunteers advance deep in Indian territory they become more prey than hunters, leading to internal strife.
Genre: Western
Director(s): Michael Winner
Production: MGM Home Entertainment
 
IMDB:
6.7
PG
Year:
1972
100 min
548 Views


[Bartender]

Hi, Eli.

Eli.

[Eli]

Morning, George.

[Both chuckle]

This is a white

man's saloon,

and it sells

white man's liquor,

and Im telling you

to crawl your filth

out of here, breed...

before I kill you.

Ha ha ha ha.

Do you hear,

you red-skinned

n*gger?

A white man's

talking to you.

You need

stepping

on, breed.

Back off, lawman.

You hear that, George?

I'm gonna

bleed you, boy.

Jesus!

[Dog barking]

I'll get

Quincey Whitmore.

[Man]

Some Indian,

I think.

[Hall]

Eli's been

shot dead, Captain.

Some injun.

He's run.

An injun, you say?

l[Woman]

Eli's been shot!/l

Apache.

I'll get

Will Coop.

He wouldn't want

to miss this.

[Man]

The sheriff's dead.

Gonna get

that injun,

Quincey?

[Man]

Who is it?

Nye?

What is it,

Quincey?

What do you want?

Saunders, just

been killed.

It won't stop

the world a-turning.

Ah!

Now then,

ain't you a picture?

An injun shot him.

Oh, and you got dressed up

for the hanging, huh?

Well, we'll have

to catch him first.

Get your pants.

Yeah.

[Crowd cheering]

Getting night,

Quincey.

All we have

is sand

in the mouth,

and the horses

are tired sore.

How's Harvey's

horse?

Uh, threw a shoe

and a hoof's split.

Ain't nothing

for us, Quincey.

We got to

turn back

or bed down

out here.

Weli...

we could go

to the Hooker

brothers' place.

Only about 10,

12 miles from here.

We can night

there.

Aah!

Aw, come on,

honey.

It ain't gonna

hurt none.

Just give me

a little honey.

[Sobbing]

All right.

Now, Ill tan

your hide,

do you hear me?

Hey, Jubal,

hey, Jubal,

by all that's holy!

I'll take the skin off you,

you don't bide

what I say.

Ah!

You're damn crazy!

She's kin.

Come on,

get back to the house.

Ah!

[Dog barking]

What's with

that fool dog?

Riders coming,

Jubal.

Earl!

Looks like

Captain Quincey.

You've been up

to something else?

There's nothing

touching me, Jubal.

Quincey,

you're riding late.

Posse, Jubal.

We're hoping to put down

here for the night.

Why, sure.

Why not.

What's

the trouble?

Apache breed shot

Eli Saunders dead.

Jesus hell!

Saunders,

dead.

Elias, get some food

on that stove.

Earl, help

with them horses.

You lose him,

Quincey?

Yeah.

Aw, that's

hell's doing.

You figure on

pushing it on

at first light?

Well, he

headed south.

[Coyote howling]

I don't hold out

much hope.

[Horse whinnying]

[Spits]

Jesus,

what is that?

Potato

whiskey.

Ha ha ha.

I'd rather

be belly-shot.

You get

the first

swallow down,

the rest

tastes good.

Earl's right,

Harve.

It takes getting

used to,

like dying.

[Coughing]

Ha ha ha.

After your

first cup, Harve,

you're blind

anyway,

and after

your second,

you're darn glad

you're blind.

[All laughing]

Well, if we

catch this breed,

we won't

have to hang him.

We'll just give him

a jug of this.

Hey, you're

a cruel one, Harve.

[Chuckling]

Where's Jubal?

He'll be

out back

setting

some traps.

You best take

your spencer,

Captain

Quincey.

The

Everettes

had some

stock run off

by some Mimbrenos.

You never

know.

[Dog growling]

Shh.

It's me, Jubal.

I mean to be

no trouble, Jubal.

Your company's

welcome.

Been thinking

on tomorrow.

Be obliged

to hear.

Circle around

by the Everettes',

pick

them up.

Then go on to

the Malechie place.

He's got

2 mex riders.

Then over to

Ezra Meade's.

He has an old

Tigua Indian

that can track.

We might cut his trail

before he gets too far

over the line.

Weli...

[Dog barking]

Might be no more than

catching the wind.

We'll get him.

Quincey,

me and

my brothers

will go past

the edge of hell,

but we'll have

that breed

and we'll

burn him!

We'll burn him!

Me and Eli,

we walked

the whole war

together.

That puts a man

close to you.

We'll surely

have that breed

and burn him.

[Men talking]

[Laughing]

How long you figure

it'll take, Quincey?

Well,

3 or 4 days

at the most.

Me and my boys

are alone here now.

Mimbrenos run off 3

of my best beef last week.

I can't be gone long.

I heard.

I'd understand, Josh,

if you wanted not to join...

no, no, no. I'm gonna

ride with you. Gibbon?

Naw, Ill ride

anyplace to see

a dead injun.

This could be

a good land

without

the injuns.

Comanches

in Texas first,

now

the apaches here...

killing, robbing.

Naw, Im gonna

ride with you,

but I just

can't be

gone long.

Gibbon,

you stay close.

You mind your ma.

Giddyap.

Giddyap.

Hyah.

Hah! Yah!

[Edna]

Gavin!

Good morning,

Mrs. Malechie.

Good morning.

Good morning,

Mr. Everette,

gentlemen.

I believe

you know, uh,

Quincey

Whitmore

and the

Hooker brothers

and, uh,

Nye Buell.

[Nye]

How do?

Nye.

Martin Hall

and Harvey

Lansing.

[Hall]

Morning, ma'am.

Ma'am.

Hell, Ive known him

since he came here.

Morning, Gavin.

George Dunn from

up wolf butte way.

Will Coop.

Set you down,

gentlemen.

Come on inside

with you now.

We're not here

to be sociable,

Malechie.

Some breed

killed Eli

Saunders.

We're

huntin' him.

Thought

you might like

to ride with us.

Yes, I heard

about it

yesterday.

One of

my vaqueros,

he knew

this half-breed

called

Pardon Chato.

He bought some horses

off him a year back.

Does the Mexican

know if the breed

has a piece

of ground to run to?

I'll ask.

He's with

my brother-in-law Brady

bringing in

some strays.

I'll send for them.

You be coming with us,

Mr. Malechie?

Soon as I wash up.

Will you have

coffee and biscuits?

That's to my taste.

We'll ride

to Ezra Meade's.

Get him and his Indian

and meet up at the wells.

Aw, Jubal, I

had a hankering

for biscuits

and coffee.

[Jubal]

You'll do

as I say.

Just keep

moving.

You see that

Brady Logan woman?

That's what I call

a fine-looking woman.

Put it

from your mind.

Thinking

ain't sinning.

Jubal, don't you

ever get bothered?

[Chuckles]

I swear,

brother Earl,

one of these days

you're gonna

get caught

halfway up

somebody else's

peach tree,

and you're

gonna be dead.

[Chuckles]

[Sheep bleating]

Brady Logan

and the Mexican.

I'm taking Raoul.

Do you have

to go, Gavin?

You know

I have to.

I hate it

when you're gone.

You and Moira

won't be alone.

I'm leaving

the Mexicans.

That's not

the same.

And what would

they think of us,

neighbors

and all?

We're new

here, Edna.

We're carving out

a place here.

We've gotta do

what's expected

of us.

To hunt down

some poor man?

He killed

the sheriff.

And he's Indian.

[Horse whinnying]

Is your pa

around, Jacob?

I'm around.

You're not going to ask

to step down, Jubal?

We haven't

given you

any call to speak

harsh words, Ezra.

Say your piece.

Eli Saunders

was murdered

by a 'pache breed.

The world

won't grieve.

Quincey Whitmore

has got up a posse.

We thought you might want

to ride with us, Ezra,

or leastways, lend us

your injun to track.

I won't ride

with your kind.

As for the injun,

he's his own man.

[Speaking Tigua]

He says the apache's

not his enemy.

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Gerald Wilson

Gerald Stanley Wilson (September 4, 1918 – September 8, 2014) was an American jazz trumpeter, big band bandleader, composer/arranger, and educator. Born in Mississippi, he was based in Los Angeles from the early 1940s. In addition to being a band leader, Wilson wrote arrangements for Duke Ellington, Sarah Vaughan, Ray Charles, Julie London, Dizzy Gillespie, Ella Fitzgerald, Benny Carter, Lionel Hampton, Billie Holiday, Dinah Washington, and Nancy Wilson. more…

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