Dances with Wolves Page #8

To Dunbar's horror, the smoke billows bigger and bigger...

climbing into the sky as a signal for anyone to see.

DUNBAR:

Damn... damn.

He stoops for his rifle and we follow as he scrambles up the

slope. The lieutenant clambers over the lip and stops to

scan the horizon.

But we continue, following the black smoke as it towers higher

and higher until it is just a wisp.

EXT. PRAIRIE - DAY

Four fantastic faces fill the screen, three together, one a

little apart. They are tired, frustrated faces, and also

very fierce. They are painted. Several wear their hair in

spiked roaches, one has brightly-colored eagle feathers

jutting out of his scalp at all angles. The FOUR WARRIORS

are naked from the waist up.

They are Pawnee, the scariest of all the Plains Tribes. The

man a little apart looks THE TOUGHEST. The four men are

squatting on their haunches and four scrawny ponies stand

behind them. All the men are staring in the same direction

from a low rise on the prairie.

It's smoke, a column much smaller than Dunbar's. The smoke

is drifting up from the furthest of a line of rolling gullies.

We can see the whole Indian party now: the four men and their

ponies, two injured men on travois and two extra ponies.

(PLEASE NOTE:
ALL INDIAN DIALOGUE WILL BE IN NATIVE DIALECT

AS INDICATED BY TRIBE. SUBTITLES WILL BE USED.)

THE TOUGHEST:

Only a white man would make a fire

for everyone to see.

1ST PAWNEE

Maybe there's more than one.

The Toughest turns back to face the others. Without another

word, he jumps on his horse. Another silence as the three

warriors consider what to do.

2ND PAWNEE

We have no rifles. White men are

sure to have rifles.

3RD PAWNEE

We should forget this and go home.

The Toughest has listened all the while, growing more and

more disgusted. He pulls the blanket from his shoulders and

flings it angrily at his companions.

TOUGHEST:

Then go. I for one, will not debate

the merit of a single line of smoke

in my own country.

He starts his pony walking down the rise toward the smoke.

1ST PAWNEE

(shaking his head)

He will not quit until we are all

dead.

The Third Pawnee starts after the Toughest. The other two

follow.

EXT. PRAIRIE - DAY

We're dropping down through the smoke, right down to the

supper fire of Timmons the teamster. He's cooking slab bacon

in a pan. Risking the heat, he dips a finger into the pan

and sucks off the grease.

There's a sudden swish of sound behind him and a split-second

later, an arrow goes deep into the wagon driver's ass knocking

him clear across the fire.

Timmons screams like a half-butchered hog and starts into an

odd crippled run. He clears the gully where he's been camped

and struggles up the incline.

Another swish and another scream, as another arrow catches

him high on the shoulder.

Terrified with pain and fear, Timmons looks back as he

scrambles up the slope.

Here comes the Toughest at a lazy gallop. He's riding only

with his legs. His hands are busy with bow and arrows. Casual

but blink quick, the Toughest snatches another arrow from

the quiver at his waist, strings it and fires. This arrow

catches Timmons in the gut. He falls squirming against the

slope.

The Toughest is still coming, his face like granite as he

fires arrow after arrow.

The three warriors who came with the Toughest have reached

the wagon. Two of them are slicing away harness on the team

of nice army horses. The third is rifling through Timmons'

gear. This man unwittingly picks up Timmons' blanket. When

he gets a whiff of its stink, the warrior flings it far out

on the grass. Then he drops to one knee, scoops up some dirt

and rubs it between his soiled hands.

EXT. PRAIRIE - DAY

A lone arrow remains in Timmons' dead body, jutting out of

his privates.

Now the Pawnee warriors pass by, heading for home in no

particular hurry. The Toughest passes by with Timmons' scalp

hanging from his bow. None of the men give Timmons a parting

glance.

EXT. SEDGEWICK BLUFF - DAY

We're close on Dunbar, his face is grimy with sweat and dirt.

He's working hard at something.

We pull back and see that Dunbar is half-way up the bluff,

he's been filling up the pockmarks, the holes where Cargill's

men once lived.

Exhausted, he stabs the shovel into the fresh earth and pauses

to look over his work, all of the holes have been filled.

His eyes sweep over the prairie across the river. He sees

something moving, it's the wolf. Dunbar instinctively goes

for his rifle.

Before he can bring it up to aim, he has second thoughts. He

lowers the gun and watches the wolf a moment longer, then

walks up the hill and disappears into the sky.

EXT. SEDGEWICK BLUFF - DAY

Fingers are playing with a button. It appears to be the same

one that came off Captain Cargill's coat. Dunbar stands atop

the hill, sighting across the prairie.

DUNBAR (V.O.)

No sign of Captain Cargill's command.

I don't know what to do. Communication

can only take place if I leave and I

don't want to abandon my post.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote