Quigley Down Under

Watch yourselves. Watch out there!

Hello, hello.

Either hurry up or let the man pass.

Partner, these people

have come a long way, too,

so I know you won't mind

them going ahead. Ma'am.

- Watch your step, ma'am.

- Excuse me. I'm next.

Old people should go last

or get the hell out of the way.

I'm so sorry, Mr. Quigley.

We seem to be holding that man up.

No, ma'am. I just spoke to him, and

he ain't in that big a hurry after all.

Come on!

- Where are you from, mate?

- Wyoming.

- That near Sydney?

- Bit further north.

Hey. I can tell you're a bloke

who's looking for somebody.

- No? Something?

- I could use a good horse.

It's a gentleman from the land of

the free and the home of the brave.

A drink, sir?

A place to rest your bones?

A woman, perhaps?

Ow!

Oh!

You're asking for bloody trouble

mixing in with this lot.

I don't reckon the lady's

all that anxious to get in your wagon.

Roy? Oh, Roy, it's you!

- I'm not Roy, lady.

- Every time there's a ship from America

I come down here looking for you.

Thank God you've come for me!

I'm sorry, Roy. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for everything.

Does Crazy Cora belong to you?

Didn't say that. I said

she don't wanna get in your wagon.

The boss says we can

take some white tarts back,

'cause we're sick of black ladies.

So you just tell Cora to come quiet, and

we'll feed her regular and everything.

Please take me home, Roy.

Bugger off, mate.

Excuse me.

I'm new here,

so I ain't rightly certain.

Is everybody in this country

as butt ugly as you three?

What do you want?

Give him another one!

Don't let the bugger

get behind you, mate!

Back for more, he is?

Look out, Roy.

Sorry, Roy!

- You stay out of this!

- I'm sorry, Roy.

My name ain't Roy.

It's Matthew Quigley.

You?

You're the fella Marston

sent us to bring back.

We sure showed 'em.

Didn't we, Roy?

You got somethin' against

ridin' horses in this country?

We ride 'em when it suits us.

Bullocks eat and drink rougher.

You can put your saddle

on one of them, if you like.

Riding in the back of the wagon

with the women.

I should've known to bring my own horse.

- I wasn't talking to you.

- Don't worry, Roy.

Everything's gonna turn out just fine.

- What are you doing?

- I'm gonna bandage your head.

- No you're not.

- It must hurt real bad.

- I wanna help it get better.

- Quit!

You've helped me enough already.

I'm much obliged.

I don't know why you're being

such a big baby about this, Roy.

Just hold still.

Quit! Now who the hell

is this Roy, anyway?

Hey! Do you need a hand

with Crazy Cora?

Here.

Thank you.

Look, lady. I don't know no Roy,

so you just leave me alone.

Go on.

Yoo-hoo.

Good night, Roy.

Good night, lady.

- What the bloody hell is it?

- Redcoats.

Mr. Ashley-Bloody-Pitt and his heroes.

- Friends of yours?

- They're British.

Get that bloody thing

away from my team!

Why are you taking the body back?

We've got orders to bring in

all suspected cattle thieves.

- The bugger's dead.

- The trial will not be lengthy.

- Carry on, sergeant.

- We're looking for two deserters.

- Can't say I blame 'em.

- Have you seen 'em?

- No.

- New distractions?

Who's this chap on the back here?

- The Yank Marston's brought out.

- Yank?

Come to do for Marston what these

bog-lrish convicts obviously can't.

Well, you just do yourjob

and stay out of trouble.

In our experience,

Americans are uncouth misfits

who have been run out

of their own barbaric country.

- Well, lieutenant...

- Major!

Major, we already run

the misfits out of our country.

We sent 'em back to England.

What are they, koala bears?

Kangaroos, I reckon.

Well, whatever they are, Roy, nature

sure played an awful trick on 'em.

I am fed up with you.

And I am fed up with Roy, whoever he is.

- My name is Matthew.

- Well, pardon the hell outta me.

I can't believe you would

talk to me like that, Roy.

I oughta wash your mouth out

with soap if I had some.

Lady, you are about

half a bubble off the plumb,

and that's for sure and for certain.

Just because the road is rocky, doesn't

mean your spirits should get rocky, too.

When do we get to Marston's ranch?

Been on his bloody land

for the last two days.

Things seem different here.

They say God made Australia last,

don't you know?

After he got tired of making

everything else the same.

Well, I've seen some pretty country,

that's for certain.

What are you doing so far from home?

There hasn't been anyone else but you.

You know that, don't you?

You can take me if you want to, Roy.

God Almighty, lady. Go to sleep.

Whoo-hoo!

Hey, look at that.

Hey-up!

Good to see you.

Get back to work.

Here you go, lads.

Wait till you see

what we've got for you.

Matthew Quigley.

Elliott Marston. Welcome to Australia.

Well, sir, your men already welcomed me.

Coogan, Mr. Quigley's luggage.

Take it to the lodge.

Mr. Marston, you said you'd

pay me 50 dollars in gold coin

- just for showing up.

- You don't waste much time.

I spent three months on a boat

just gettin' here.

You intrigued me, Mr. Quigley.

Twenty-one men answered my

advertisement, from all over the world.

Canada, India, England.

They just wrote letters.

But you... had a way with words.

My advertisement stated that I wanted to

hire the finest marksman in the world.

Have I?

Uh-huh.

The legendary Sharp.

You know your weapons.

It's a lever-action breech loader.

Usual barrel length's 30 inches.

This one has an extra four.

It's converted to use a special

.45-caliber, 110-grain metal cartridge

with a 540-grain paper-patched bullet.

It's fitted with double set triggers

and a vernier sight.

It's marked up to 1200 yards.

This one shoots a mite further.

An experimental weapon

with experimental ammunition.

You could call it that.

Let's experiment.

Whitey, take that bucket

and ride out until I signal.

Tell me when you want him to stop.

Your man able to hit

something that far away?

I don't know him.

I never saw him before.

He'd have to be a good shot all right.

'Bout there'll do.

Bullshit.

Are you quite certain, Mr. Quigley,

that you wouldn't like

the bucket a bit closer?

Jesus Christ!

Quite certain.

Told you. Only my Roy could

hit a coyote from that distance.

Very impressive. You're hired.

Would you excuse me for a minute?

There's some business

I have to attend to.

You might find this interesting.

Nice shootin', Roy.

Mr. Marston?

I think there's been a mistake.

The one they call Crazy Cora.

I'd appreciate it

if your men leave her alone

- till you and I have a chance to talk.

- Whatever you want.

You are deserters from

Her Majesty's armed forces.

The penalty for your crime is death.

You were caught on my land.

I could have you shot for trespassing.

Look, you let us stay here,

guv'nor, we'll serve you proper.

Better than this

convict scum you've got.

Well, unfortunately, your commanding

officer Major Ashley-Pitt and I

have an understanding,

and so, I'm afraid,

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