Rocky Mountain

To us, as we first saw it...

...this place was known only as The Rock.

Two thousand miles behind us...

...Lee was fighting for the life

of the Southern Confederacy.

We were some of Lee's men.

He had sent us here, eight of us...

...in a last desperate effort

to save the war.

Our mission was all but impossible,

but we had to succeed...

...for we knew now, that we were living

the last days of our cause...

...unless we ourselves could turn the tide.

There, high above us...

...was the man

we'd ridden 2000 miles to meet...

...Cole Smith.

You Captain Barstow?

I'm California Beal. Cole Smith sent me.

Where is he?

He'll be along.

That all the men you got with you?

I'm not here to supply men.

How many have you got with you?

Nobody.

Cole Smith sent me to give you the word,

that's all.

Plank, Kip, Jonas.

Up top and have a look around.

They won't find nothing up there now.

Cole Smith camped there a month ago

with maybe 60 men.

Sixty? What about the 500

he's supposed to have?

You'll see them, when it's your time to.

You a fair sample of Cole Smith's troops?

I don't know as we call ourselves

anybody's troops, old folks...

...but we're plenty able to keep

half of California in a cold sweat.

You'll get the chance.

We didn't like that very well.

Cole Smith wasn't here.

And we didn't like

the envoy he'd sent either...

...California Beal.

That crooked line there

is the Humboldt River.

The Overland Stage Route runs along it.

Cole Smith picked this meeting place

pretty close to the trail.

You won't be kept awake

by no stagecoaches on it.

Not the way the Indians is right now.

There's a coach on it today.

You can see the dust from his wheels...

...where the trail comes out

of the Battle Mountains.

Well, anyway,

he sure don't belong there.

There's some kind of passel of Indians

a whole lot closer than that.

Look at them sand hills

by the Humboldt, Plank.

I see it. That ain't wind doing that, Lafe.

There's been plenty Shoshones

gouging around here this past week.

I'm a lot more interested

in where you left Cole Smith.

I'd never ask Cole Smith

where he's going.

Lafe, look at that dust there now.

There's a war party underneath that,

just as sure as you're born.

What's wrong

with that stagecoach driver?

He must see that. He can't help seeing it.

You figure they're there

to jump the stage?

Listen, Beal, we've come a long way.

I don't want to be told

that Cole Smith can't be found.

- You just relax, soldier boy.

- And I don't wanna hear...

...that all he's got with him

is a bunch of 60 or 70 penny-ante misfits.

- Like me?

- That's the general idea.

I'll tell you, maybe we don't drill good...

...but when we get started,

we cover a lot of ground.

By the time we get to Sacramento...

...counting rebel sympathizers we'll pick up

on the way, we'll be close to a thousand.

We'll make your General Lee

a president of the town inside of 30 days.

Hey, you know something?

That coach has been in a fight already.

Give me the glass.

No shotgun guard either. Must be dead.

They're closing in on all sides.

I'll give him about five more minutes.

They'll kill his horses

when he gets to that point of rocks there.

That man can sure drive, whoever he is.

Sure you can drive.

You'd be surprised how you can drive

with a war party closing in on you.

There they are, Lafe.

The war ponies are busting out of the draw.

This thing ain't going on

much longer, Lafe.

In case you're getting any wild ideas...

...Cole Smith wouldn't like

you getting mixed up in this.

He'd sort of feel it might spoil

what General Lee sent you out here for.

Let's get down there.

Yee-ha!

Hyah!

Hyah! Hyah! Hyah!

Forward, ho!

Hyah!

Hyah!

Yah-hah!

Hyah!

Often afterwards in our days

on The Rock, it was easy to forget...

...why I'd ever chosen six rattle-headed

kids and an old man for the job we had.

Kip Waterson,

the baby-faced heir to a plantation.

Come back, you ninny.

Pierre Duchesne, from French Louisiana.

Pap Dennison, an old man really...

...but a hard, reckless fighter

who never gave ground while he lived.

Kay Rawlins,

from the Mississippi steamboats...

...a rough, unfriendly man,

as the Indians now found out.

Jimmy Wheat,

the little rednecked cropper...

...who could fight

like a wildcat with hydrophobia...

...but carried a useless little dog

2000 miles.

Jonas Weatherby, the Texan,

a seasoned plainsman at 18.

Plank, our other real plainsman,

hard and bitter...

...with chain-gang scars

on his legs at 22.

One moment they were all around us,

and we were drowning in Indians.

Then suddenly it was over with

and we had the desert to ourselves.

But I knew we had to get back to The Rock,

and quickly.

Ho!

Nicked you, huh?

What kept you fellers?

Pierre, pick up those loose horses.

Rawlins, see to the driver.

Ho.

Where you hit, mister?

Get the woman out.

Woman?

Hey, he's right.

Packed with dang female women.

You might have known it.

I don't know what's wrong with her.

This ain't her blood.

Is anything busted anyplace, ma'am?

They're dead.

They're dead in there.

We never realized as we stared so

curiously at our unexpected guest...

...how much history

might have been differently lived...

...if she'd not been there.

Are you all right, ma'am?

Yes, thank you.

I'm sorry I went to pieces so.

Oh, it was only natural, ma'am.

How are the others?

The driver's all right,

but the other two are dead.

Were they kin of yours?

No, they were strangers.

Somebody let you travel

through this country alone?

I was coming out to get married.

My fianc is stationed out here.

- Stationed?

- He's a lieutenant in the Army.

Union?

Of course.

Uh... Was he expecting you?

Yes. I wrote him at Fort Churchill.

He'll be worried

when the stage doesn't arrive.

Is there some way

you can let him know I'm safe?

We won't have to. He'll probably come

right out here looking for you.

I haven't thanked you yet

for saving my life.

I'm Johanna Carter.

And I'm very grateful.

Thank you, ma'am.

I'm Lafe Barstow. We'll try to make you

as comfortable as possible.

If you'd minded me, captain, you wouldn't

have no Yankee girl to worry about.

Would you leave her to the Indians?

Depends on whether I wanted to be a hero

or get a job done.

- How's the arm?

- Just a scratch.

They must have been Yankee Indians,

the way they shoot.

Lafe.

This man has

a very interesting suggestion.

I was telling these fellers here...

...that if somebody would helped me

fix that busted wheel...

...that me and my passenger

could be on our way tonight.

That is, unless you fellers

are going on into Fort Churchill too.

It'll be sundown in about an hour.

You don't want to be traveling at night.

The way these Indians are,

nighttime's the only time I dares to travel.

Best thing for us would be

to bust out of here as soon as it got dark.

Might be a couple

of big fat drawbacks to that.

I kind of thought so.

When you fellers came over

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