Hondo Page #2

l mean, as different from anyone else.

- You or me, for instance.

- Well, they can.

As a matter of fact,

Indians can smell White people.

- l don't believe it.

- Well, it's true.

Im part Indian, and l can smell you

when Im downwind of you.

- That's impossible.

- No, it isn't impossible, Mrs. Lowe.

You baked today.

l can smell fresh bread on you.

Sometime today

you cooked with salt pork.

Smell that on you, too.

You smell all over like soap.

You took a bath. And on top of that,

you smell all over like a woman.

l could find you in the dark, Mrs. Lowe,

and Im only part Indian.

Mrs. Lowe.

What do you want?

- l watered and grained the stock.

- Thank you.

Ill bed down near here

someplace tonight.

Mr. Lane?

You can't sleep outside,

there's a storm coming.

Ive fixed a pallet for you in the corner.

It would be uncivilized

to let anyone sleep outside,

and after all, we are civilized, aren't we?

Speaking for you, of course. But me?

l guess you could call me civilized.

That's your bed.

Im sorry it has to be on the floor.

l have to set the batter for the morning.

l hope the noise won't disturb you.

It won't.

Good night, ma'am.

Put that gun down.

You're Hondo Lane, the gunman.

- l carry a gun.

- Don't come any nearer.

You killed three men

in a gunfight last year.

- We heard about it. Three men.

- Yes, ma'am.

- Just as quick as l could.

- Don't come any nearer.

Its not a very good idea

to point one of these things at anybody

with an empty chamber

under the firing pin.

You can see it plain as day.

l keep it that way because of Johnny.

Well, now it's loaded.

Keep it that way, and keep it high.

Please stay. L really want you to.

Im sorry. L should have realized from

the beginning that you are a gentleman.

Civilized? Gentleman?

Well, a lot for one day.

Night, ma'am.

Morning. Getting an early start.

Be sure and tell that little man

goodbye for me.

l ought to wake him

to say goodbye to you.

Was it me, l'd let him sleep.

Youngsters grow sleeping,

but you do what you want to.

He was so delighted with that whistle

you made for him.

Glad to hear it.

He and l got along just fine.

Its more like a flute than a whistle.

It ranges almost the full scale.

l learned to make them when l was

living with the Mescalero.

My squaw used to make them

for every kid in the lodge.

- You lived with the Apache?

- Five years.

- And you had an Indian wife?

- Wife, squaw...

l took the liberty of borrowing a few feet

of rope off of that coil in the lean-to.

- Gladly pay you for it, if you let me.

- 'Course not.

The hills are so beautiful today.

Odd how clear they always are

after a dust storm.

Must have been very interesting

living with the Apache.

l liked it.

- This Indian wife you have...

- Had. She's dead.

Im sorry. L didn't mean to bring up

an unhappy memory.

l can't remember anything unhappy

about Destarte.

Destarte? How musical.

What does it mean?

You can't say it except in Mescalero.

It means morning.

But that isn't what it means, either.

Means more than just that.

Indian words mean the sound and

feel of a word, like,

crack of dawn, the first bronze light

that makes the buttes stand out

against the gray desert.

The first sound you hear of a brook

curling over some rocks,

with trout jumping.

Its like when you get up in the first light,

just you and her and you go out of

a wickiup.

Where it smells kind of smoky

and private, just you and her, and

kind of safe with just the two of you.

Stand outside and

feel the bite of the first wind

coming down from the high divide

that promises snowfall.

Can't say it in English,

but that was her name.

Destarte.

- You remind me of her some.

- Of an Indian girl?

Was she fair?

Her hair was black as 10 feet down.

Did you ever see a crow's wing,

how black and gleaming it is?

- Yes.

- That's the way her hair shined.

l'd like to pay you for that rope.

Riding dispatch,

l have the right to give U.S. script.

- You loved her?

- l don't know.

l needed her.

- But if she was dark and Im fair...

- Why you reminded me of her?

- Yes.

- l don't know.

l thought about it.

You don't look anything like her.

l am fully aware

that l am a homely woman, Mr. Lane.

l didn't mean that.

l have a bad habit of telling the truth.

But being pretty isn't much.

l know a lot of pretty people

l wouldn't trust

with a busted nickel-plated watch.

But some others, something comes

out of the inside of them and

you know you can trust them.

Destarte had that.

And you've got it, too.

- Im a married woman.

- l thought about that, too.

l guess l kissed you

because you remind me of Destarte.

Or maybe it was because

l hate to think of your hair

hanging from the center pole

of an Apache wickiup.

Well, a long time ago l made me a rule.

l let people do what they want to do.

Sam!

You are a strange man, Mr. Lane.

l don't know about that.

Goodbye, Mrs. Lowe.

- You are Vittorio.

- l am Vittorio.

Your horses have been watered here.

- You were told to go.

- l couldn't leave.

My husband is away,

and l didn't think that l...

Your people water their horses here.

You leave my mother alone.

Stop him! Stop him!

- l ain't scared of you.

- You're not fear Apache?

No.

He fear hurt to mother,

but not death to self.

He brave. Like Apache boy.

Him now blood brother.

l call him Small Warrior.

Him belong Moon Dog Lodge,

Chiricahua Apache.

You care for him well.

You now mother Chiricahua warrior.

Live safely here.

l hope someday,

someone befriends your sons.

My sons are dead. White man kill them.

Figured your scalp would be hanging

in some Apache wickiup by now.

- Hi, Buffalo.

- Been making bets on it.

You're sure a disappointment to me,

Hondo.

You like to win your bet.

l wore out some horses.

You wore out you while you was at it.

Here, let me get that.

Where's that water?

- Looks like l won a bet, Buffalo.

- Hi, Dick.

Yeah, l owe you a jug of red-eye.

- This feels good.

- There's times when water is good.

That's exactly what l mean.

l say l got a right to talk to

this here bow-necked Major,

- l don't talk to no underlings.

- Major's asleep.

That's just too bad about him.

Im a citizen and l want to see him.

Major ain't had any sleep for three days.

l can tell you everything

just as well as he can.

We ain't heard nothing from up north.

lf you ask me, the Cavalry's scared of

Vittorio. L think the U.S. Cavalry...

l am greatly interested in your opinion of

the United States Cavalry.

Continue, Mr... Whatever your name is.

The Cavalry is supposed to support

the settlers.

Ive got some cattle up north,

l don't intend...

C troop is making a sweep to the north

to escort out any settlers they may find.

C troop is now over a week late

in returning. That's all l can tell you.

C troop isn't coming back.

l'd be obliged, sir, if you would leave.

A fine business, the whole territory...

- Sergeant!

- Get!

Get out of the way, you mangy...

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