Dances with Wolves Page #9

He sticks a hand in his overcoat, pulls out a piece of dried

meat and bites off a hunk.

Dunbar starts down the hill toward the fort. He watches the

horizon as he goes.

DUNBAR (V.O.)

Made a short patrol yesterday p.m...

discovered nothing. Will go further

tomorrow.

EXT. SEDGEWICK - DUSK

His long day has drawn to a close. Dunbar sits on the stoop

of his quarters. His journal open in his lap. The sign over

the doorway has been straightened. Dunbar is staring at

something.

One hundred yards away, sitting in the grass is the outline

of a wolf.

DUNBAR (V.O.)

There is a wolf who seems intent on

the goings on here. He does not seem

inclined to be a nuisance however

and aside from Cisco has been my

only company. He has appeared each

afternoon for the past two days. He

has milky white socks on both feet.

If he comes calling tomorrow I will

name him Two Socks.

EXT. SUPPLY HOUSE - DAY

With a grunt Dunbar lugs an army saddle out of the supply

house and starts for the door. He slows to a stop and stares

down at the saddle as if in a trance. In a moment he is

tossing the saddle back where he found it.

EXT. HILLSIDE - DAY

Dunbar is leading Cisco to the top of a low hill. He glances

over his shoulder and sees that he is being followed.

The wolf with two socks stops when Dunbar looks back at him.

Dunbar watches him curiously for a moment and continues

leading Cisco up the hill. But now he's glancing regularly

over his shoulder and discovers that as he moves, so does

the wolf.

Reaching the top of the hill, Dunbar pauses. He pulls out

the pocket telescope and sweeps the prairie. There is nothing.

Now Dunbar swings onto Cisco's bare back and with a last

glance back at the wolf starts down the rise and on to the

open prairie at an easy canter. We follow for a little

distance. Dunbar glances once more over his shoulder.

The wolf is sitting on top of the hill watching. He has

decided to come no further.

EXT. SEDGEWICK - DAY

Considerable time has passed. Dunbar, bundled warmly against

the chill of an oncoming storm, and Cisco are coming back

into camp from a hunting foray. A brace of grouse is slung

over Cisco's withers.

INT. QUARTERS - DAY

It's storming outside. Rain is pouring down, its patter broken

from time to time by spectacular flashes of lightning and

the boom of thunder.

But inside it's cozy. The quarters are still crowded but

considerable order has been brought to bear on the place.

He is just finishing up the grouse and a pile of bones sits

on the table. Open at his side is his journal.

DUNBAR (V.O.)

Almost a month and no one has come.

The longer this condition persists,

the less inclined I am to believe

that anyone will. Rain has forced me

indoors for most of two days. I have

begun an awning. The work has ruined

my hands, but I am excited about the

improvement it will bring to this

place.

A great bolt of lightning strikes outside, filling the room

with violent white light. Dunbar walks to the door and tosses

out a handful of bones. Two Socks scurries to collect the

bones and retreats under the shelter of a nearby tree.

DUNBAR (V.O.)

It is the loneliest of times... but

I cannot say that I am unhappy.

EXT. PRAIRIE - DAY

Just as Dunbar did on his trip out with Timmons, someone is

running a palm over the tips of the tall prairie grass. This

hand, however, is red.

A lone Indian is standing in the grass, his pony at his side.

He is a real Indian; tough, wild and free. He is a person of

special maturity. He radiates wisdom and is a man of

responsibility in his community. He is a Sioux medicine man.

He is KICKING BIRD.

EXT. RIVER BANK - DAY

Dunbar is squatting naked at the edge of the stream, pounding

the dirt out of his trousers on a little rock ledge. He rises,

wringing out the pants, and wades across the river.

On the opposite bank he spreads the pants on a low bush.

Then he looks along the river. For some distance every bush

and shrub is draped with the lieutenant's laundry, all of it

drying in the sun.

EXT. SEDGEWICK - DAY

The spectacular face of Kicking Bird is staring at something.

He's looking thoughtfully at the "new" Fort Sedgewick; the

tidy grounds, the great awning, the repaired corral. The

beautiful, buckskin standing inside.

EXT. RIVER - DAY

Comfortable with his nakedness, Dunbar is meandering along

the stream in no particular hurry. He's very white. His skin

practically sparkles in the sun.

Dunbar is making his way up the bluff. The steepest part is

at the lip and here he drops to all fours.

Dunbar's face comes into view. He freezes.

Someone is creeping under the shade of the awning... an

aboriginal man.

Dunbar's head pops down behind the bluff.

The lieutenant is down on his naked haunches. His heart is

pounding in his ears. Sweat has broken out on his face. His

mouth is dry as ash.

He's playing back images in fragments. A deerskin shirt,

strands of hair sewn along each sleeve. Fringed leggins. A

dark, faded breechclout. Moccasins with beading. A single,

large feather drooping behind a head of shiny, black hair.

Braids wrapped in fur. A lethal stone club hanging from a

red hand. No eyebrows on a magnificent, primitive face.

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