Chato's Land Page #2

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Now, ain't

that pretty?

We ain't gonna let

no damn injun...

shut

your mouth.

He was

a white man,

Ezra.

He was a redneck

with a loud mouth

and a gun.

I heard he

got no more

than he

called for.

Son,

you wanna

swallow back

them words?

Ride out.

[C*cks rifle]

We're waiting

for an apology, Ezra.

[Jacob]

You'll not

get one here.

Don't give me

the pleasure.

[Chuckles]

[Horse whinnying]

Hyah!

Where's Meade?

He won't

ride with us.

He favors

the breed.

Ezra always was

a mite stand-off.

It'll not

be forgotten.

I always thought

of Meade

as a good

neighbor.

Who's the mex?

He rides

for Malechie.

Looks more than

half apache to me.

He's part Yaqui.

You best keep

a short rope on him.

We'll turn south

from here

and head towards

the high country.

Keep spread out

and hunt for sign.

Anyone see anything,

raise a shout

or shoot twice.

Malechie,

tell your Mexican

to scout ahead

over by

that long ridge.

That's the last place

we caught his trail.

[Speaking Spanish]

lSi, senor./l

[Quincey]

Whiskey and

a hot sun don't mix.

[Nye]

Well, neither

does my ass

and this

damn saddle.

Anyhow,

I used to

heard it said

you boys that

rode with hood

drank 5 states dry.

Always tell where

hood's Texans have been

by the empty bottles

and the dead Yankees.

And it was

true.

From Cemetery Hill

till old slow trot Thomas

broke us at Nashville,

we had more than

our share of both.

You know,

one thing I never

could fathom, Quincey.

How did

them Yankees win?

They had more...

more men, more guns,

more food, more luck.

You know, when

I look back at it,

I know now that

it was all there

for the seeing,

except we

didn't see it.

Getting licked,

I mean, as Early

as '63.

Hood took us up

little round top

at Gettysburg.

And if we

could have held it,

we could have rolled

back those Yankees

like old carpets.

But there were

too many of them.

They say

from Culps Hill,

you could see

it all clear.

Gray lines comin'

like the sea wash,

yellin' and sort

of breaking up

when they hit the blue

ridge and then...

fallin' back.

Lee cried.

I guess he knew.

Heli...

it was a good war.

[Gunshot]

[Shouts in Spanish]

Hyah, hyah. Hey.

Apache.

You sure?

lCierto./l

How long ago? When?

[Speaking Spanish]

An hour, maybe less,

he says.

It don't make sense.

How can you

tell that?

From the droppings.

Sun dries them

pretty damn quick.

Still fresh inside,

means it

ain't been long.

Looks like he stayed

here quite a spell.

Don't make sense,

Jubal.

Should have been

long gone from here,

a running man

and all.

Might be

he figured

we stopped

chasing him.

Circled around

for some reason.

Might be.

If he does, we'll

have us a hangin'

come nightfall.

[Shouting]

Still damn hot,

even with those clouds.

Well, maybe it'll

sweat some of the whiskey

out of your hide, Nye.

[Nye laughs]

[Speaking Spanish]

[Man]

Watch it.

Watch it!

[2nd man]

Who's down?

Watch the horses.

[3rd man]

Will, you okay?

[Jubal]

You all right,

Quincey?

[Elias]

He's hurt.

[Gasps]

How is it, Will?

Is it broken?

Don't know. How's

it feel, Will?

Sore inside.

I don't

think it's broke,

but he can't ride.

George, can you get him

back to Arillo?

[George]

Sure, Captain.

[Josh] we'll make

a travois for him.

[Jubal] there's some brush

down at the bottom there.

My place is closer.

You can get

a wagon there.

We got

our work cut out.

You're the lucky

one, Will.

[Will coughing]

Gonna be

all right, Will?

[Coughing]

Sorry,

George.

It's all right, Will.

I got a feeling we're

well out of it anyway.

[Coughing]

[Coughing]

The Mexican...

pretty good...

pretty good.

[Speaking Spanish]

Damn this light.

Might as well bed down

here for the night,

get a fresh start

in the morning.

Unsaddle

and make camp.

Hell, there's

no water here, Quincey.

We're gettin' low

on water.

And the horses

will need some.

Earl's gone huntin'

for water.

You can bet the

honeybee's sugar tit

there ain't no water

to find.

Look around...

sharp rock, dry dirt,

and that's all.

Each man ration

his own water.

Damp down

your neck cloths

or some piece

of something

and wet down

the horses' muzzles.

I've eaten so much

of this damn land today,

I can't even spit.

You'll eat

more of it tomorrow.

We haven't even seen

the shirttail of him yet.

We don't even know

if what we're chasin'

is the breed that done it.

Jubal thought he'd have

a hangin' by night.

The only hangin'

is my ass.

[Horse whinnying]

Quincey!

What is it?

What's going on?

[Grunting]

Let me see that.

There's no use

staring at them.

That rotten

bastard!

You figure it

was the breed?

Who'd you figure

it was?

He could have

cut our throats.

Maybe he isn't

a killing man.

He's half apache,

ain't he?

You mix dog

and wolf,

you wind up with

a killin' animal.

[Buell] he killed Eli.

That's a fact.

He's either a damn fool

or he got some game.

Apache don't leave tracks

unless they got a reason.

I don't like it.

I don't like it

one bit.

You want to hightail

it for home,

Harvey, do you?

I didn't say that.

We're gonna find

that breed...

and we're gonna

hang him.

And nobody's gonna

do different.

Now, hold on now,

Jubal.

There's no cause

for that.

Each man is here

by his own doin'.

If a man wants out,

he can.

I wouldn't ride

with a man

who didn't want

to ride with me.

[Jubal]

We're gonna

ride till we get him.

What are you all thorn

and thistle about, Jubal?

Harve didn't say nothin'

about going back.

[Horse whinnying]

Here comes the Mexican.

Where in

hell's he been?

Tracking.

One thing for sure,

that breed

ain't far ahead.

[Speaking Spanish]

Says he found

fresh tracks

heading south

towards the lava hills.

That's, uh... bad

country, Quincey.

This ain't hardly

the Garden of Eden.

Listen, Quincey,

you know,

could be that breed

is leadin'

and we're followin'.

And if it's true,

he could be leadin' us

into bad apache trouble.

Them Mimbrenos that run off

my beef a while back,

they could hiding

up in the hills.

Mind ya, Im just

sayin' maybe.

Maybe.

Well, what

do you think?

Well, I learned one

thing when I was with...

Tom Jeffords

chasing Cochise.

You can never know

what's in

an apache's mind.

Ain't a man like...

like we know a man.

He thinks apache,

and that's a...

a shut book full of...

terrible things.

I got a real dislike

of red beans.

Gonna be

a hot one.

No, maybe snow

by noon, Elias.

Ha ha. And the devil

take a chill, huh?

You sure as hell

all speed.

Breakfast

done.

You Indian dirt.

Now, you keep all

your killin' feelings

for what

we gotta do.

[Laughing]

I tell you,

brother Earl,

you got some kind

of sweet disposition,

all sun and

little white flowers.

Pleasant company,

them Hooker boys.

Nothin' movin'.

That don't mean

a damn thing.

Watch that broken

ground over there.

I'm going

to have a look.

Nobody about for

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