How the West Was Won Page #8

start hunting rabbits, much less buffalo.

Just get them to water right away.

You say no buffalo hunter come.

White man, liar.

We scout for you no more.

Not in our lifetime, you said.

And there they are.

The buffalo slaughterers and the settlers.

All right, it's sooner than I figured.

But the railroad's broke.

They need money to keep moving on.

No people, no money.

No money, no railroad.

- It's as simple as that.

- What about the Arapahos?

Just take a look at those people.

Half of them straight from Europe.

They'll have a rough time,

but they'll make it.

And do you wanna know

why they'll make it?

Because they're willing

to change their ways.

Arapahos will have to change too.

If they don't, they're finished.

I know they have to

and someday the land will be taken over...

...by these farmers

with their towns and their cattle.

But not like this.

They don't have to be double-crossed,

and I don't have to be a part of it.

You don't, lieutenant?

Well, aren't you forgetting that uniform?

That's right, Mr. King, I'm forgetting it.

If the Army hasn't got any authority

out here, I'm resigning. And now.

I don't see how that's

gonna help the Arapahos.

Nothing will help them.

But nothing's gonna stop them.

Indian attack!

Indian attack! Take cover!

Take a good look.

You wanted a war and you got one.

I hope you're the first man killed in it.

Turn those wagons over!

Shoot for the lead horses.

Pick off the chief.

Rawlings, try that.

The Indians are stampeding the buffalo.

Dirty skunks. Come on.

I told you there'd be no war.

Look at them.

They've quit.

They'll be back.

They just sent a bunch of animals

to kill an animal they call the "iron horse."

Well, it's still standing, isn't it?

And nothing's gonna stop it.

You think you can live with that?

I can live with it, or I can die with it.

Just listen.

You can live with that?

That?

That ain't crying.

That's just new life going on.

Pick up this woman and put the rest

of the injured in the tent house.

Hey, Merv...

The rest of you, back to work.

We got a railroad to build.

Well...

Looks like you finally got your bellyful.

Hello, Jethro.

Appears you're doing well.

Can't complain.

Creek's loaded with beavers,

fighting their way into the trap.

No white men looking

over my shoulder...

...and the Indians are plumb cordial.

Toss your stuff in there.

Plenty of room for two.

Thanks.

You'll be bunking yonder.

Take your bearings now

so you can find it when you need it.

If you don't like my snoring,

you can build your own cabin.

I'll furnish the ax.

- Thanks. I'm just passing through.

- Through to where?

Anywhere you go is like

where you've been.

Ain't you lost enough tail feathers

back there?

I've been plucked some.

But that's what I like about this country.

There's always greener grass

over the next hill.

Not no more.

Not since that damn railroad come.

All the grass is being staked out now,

with a lock on it.

Maybe I'll just have to climb

a little higher hill to find it.

How about coming along?

You crazy?

Like the Indians say, "These rocks

and trees around here feel no call to move."

Why should I?

Guess I'm not an Indian, Jethro.

But I'm sure not a rock nor a tree.

Man belongs his own kind,

like him or not.

The coming of railroads brought changes

in the land through which they passed.

Now immense herds of cattle were driven

hundreds of miles to meet the lines...

... bound for markets in the East.

Fences went up, cattle trails were barred...

... and a long and bloody wrangle began

between cattlemen and homesteaders.

The law was in the hands of whoever

could shoot fast and straight...

... except where there was somebody

determined to stand for law.

Others might look on sheep and a shepherd

as a pastoral scene.

Not the cattleman.

To him, sheep destroyed grass,

and grass came dear.

And if a man's life were held cheaper

than grass...

... it was considered a casualty of war,

not a crime.

And, in all this, the man with the star

was only one against many.

But time was running out

for the reckless ones...

... the desperadoes,

the gallop-and-gunshot boys...

... as more and more citizens demanded

respect for the law...

... and showed themselves ready to fight

to uphold it.

And the raw new towns that sprung up

in the West began to dream...

... of becoming as refined as that one-time

hooligan city by the Golden Gate.

San Francisco was now respectable.

So sophisticated, in fact,

it even had mansions up for auction.

Two thousand dollars.

Two thousand dollars.

Is that your last bid?

Ladies and gentlemen,

this trophy is solid gold and fully inscribed.

"Mr. Cleve Van Valen, president.

San Francisco-Kansas City Railroad."

It's a treasure he held dear to his heart.

Do I hear $3000

for this priceless possession?

Priceless, my foot.

We used it for a doorstop.

- Twenty-five hundred.

- Twenty-five hundred dollars.

Twenty-five hundred dollars.

Twenty-five hundred? Sold $2500.

It's a sad day, Lilith.

Sad?

We made and spent

three fortunes together.

What's so sad about that?

And if he'd lived a little longer,

we would've made and spent another.

- I beg your pardon, Mrs. Van Valen.

- What?

The chair, it's been sold. I'm sorry.

Well then, take it.

Quit apologizing and take it.

Thank you, madam.

If there'd been some other way

to pay off the debts...

It doesn't matter.

I've got two things

no one can ever take from me:

This and my land in Arizona.

Lilith, I don't want to dash any hopes...

...but that ranch is nearly worthless.

Well, it's there, isn't it?

Yes, but most of the cattle

have been sold off or stolen.

- I'll get cattle.

- You'll need someone to work it.

- Someone to manage it for you.

- I'll get that too.

Who?

My nephew.

He's a marshal out there somewhere.

Now, Lilith, at your age,

it might be kind of rough.

Rough?

My ma and pa were killed

going down the river just looking for land.

I guess I got a little of that Prescott blood

in me after all.

Pa?

Is Aunt Lilith's house on Nob Hill

as high as that?

I don't know, son.

On our way home, you ask your aunt Lilith.

She'll tell you.

Honey? Do you think you'll know her?

- What?

- You aunt Lilith.

- Do you think you'll recognize her?

- Sure.

Zeb? What's the matter?

Nothing.

Come on.

Thank you.

- Ma'am, are you our great-aunt Lilith?

- If you're Zeb's children, I am.

- Lilith.

- Zeb.

Zeb Rawlings.

Oh, goodness.

I swore up and down I wasn't gonna cry.

You're just as pretty as Ma said you was.

I'd like you to meet my wife, Julie.

Pleased to meet you.

I'm pleased to meet you too.

I just can't tell you how pleased.

This here's Eve, underneath all the jam.

- Come on and meet Sam now.

- Sam?

Sam's our horse.

He could pull two wagons if he wanted.

Oh, well, if you'll excuse me,

I have my orders to meet Sam.

Come on.

- Oh, just a minute now, boys.

- But he's on the other side.

Come on.

Okay.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes