Dances with Wolves Page #11

KICKING BIRD:

Yes... it is good. The grass is rich.

The game is plenty and not running

away.

TEN BEARS:

I am glad to hear it. But the buffalo

are late. I always worry about the

bellies of our children.

A brief silence.

KICKING BIRD:

I was thinking of a dance.

TEN BEARS:

Yes, a dance is always a good idea.

It would be good to have a strong

sign.

Kicking Bird seems suddenly uncomfortable. The little boy

leaves.

KICKING BIRD:

Yes.

TEN BEARS:

There's a funny thing about signs.

They are always flying in our faces.

We know when they are bad or good

but sometimes they are strange and

there is no way to understand them.

Sometimes they make people crazy but

a smart man will take such a sign

into himself and let it run around

for two or three days. If he is still

confused he will tell somebody. He

might come to you or to me and tell

it. A smart man always does that.

Ten Bears picks up the pipe and puffs away, seemingly without

care.

KICKING BIRD:

I have seen such a sign.

TEN BEARS:

Oh?

KICKING BIRD:

I saw a man, a white man.

Ten Bears' eyes get big for a moment. Then he thinks.

TEN BEARS:

Just one?

KICKING BIRD:

Just one. He was naked.

Ten Bears thinks some more.

TEN BEARS:

Are you sure it was a man?

KICKING BIRD:

I saw his sex.

TEN BEARS:

Did you speak to him?

KICKING BIRD:

No.

Ten Bears rubs at his old eyes with both hands.

TEN BEARS:

We will council on this.

EXT. TEN BEARS' LODGE - NIGHT

A teenaged boy, SMILES A LOT and his two buddies OTTER and

WORM lie prone outside Ten Bears' home. They are peeking

under the tipi's rolled-up sides. Their eyes are wide, for

inside there's plenty to see and hear. The village's most

influential warriors have squeezed into the lodge for this

big and important meeting

INT. TEN BEARS' LODGE - NIGHT

The eldest and most respected men of the band, including Ten

Bears, his pal STONE CALF, an influential warrior named WIND

IN HIS HAIR, and Kicking Bird are seated around the fire.

Crowded around them, in a high state of excitement, are the

village's leading warriors. The meeting is in progress.

KICKING BIRD:

He might be a god or he might be a

special chief -- that's why we are

thinking of having a talk with him.

There is a little murmuring around the fire, and it goes

silent. Wind In His Hair rises to speak.

WIND IN HIS HAIR

I do not care for this talk about a

white man. Whatever kind of white

man he is, he is not Sioux and that

makes him less. We've camped here

for ten days now and each day our

scouts find nothing. One old bull

with wolves tearing him apart, nothing

more. We need meat -- not talk.

KICKING BIRD:

You are right, we need meat today

and tomorrow. But we must also have

meat in ten years.

Kicking Bird pauses here. Everyone is listening attentively.

KICKING BIRD:

But the whites are coming. Our friends

the Shoshone and the Kiowa, even our

enemies, agree on this -- the whites

are coming. More than can be counted.

WIND IN HIS HAIR

Kicking Bird is always looking ahead

and that is good. But when I hear

that more whites are coming -- more

than can be counted I want to laugh.

We took a hundred horses from these

people, there was no honor in it.

They don't ride well, they don't

shoot well, they're dirty. They have

no women, no children. They could

not even make it through one winter

in our country. And these people are

said to flourish? I think they will

all be dead in ten years.

There is a surge of enthusiasm in the lodge and Wind In His

Hair is riding the crest of it.

WIND IN HIS HAIR

I think this white man is probably

lost.

This parting shot prompts a good-natured round of laughter.

KICKING BIRD:

Wind In His Hair has spoken straight,

his words are strong and I have heard

them. It's true the whites are a

poor race and it's hard to understand

them. But when I see one white man

alone, without fear in our country,

I do not think he is lost. I think

he may have medicine. I see someone

who might speak for all the white

people who are coming. I think this

is a person with which treaties might

be struck.

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