She Wore a Yellow Ribbon Page #2

It's a sign of weakness.

- Ready?

- Ready, sir.

Good morning.

- Hochbauer!

- Morning.

- Well, once again, De Rice, huh?

- Yes, sir.

Good morning, men.

- What's this? Hochbauer!

- Yes, sir.

- What's this?

- Orders by Major Allshard.

- There's no wagon goes on this patrol.

- Orders, sir.

- Orders, huh?

- Yes, sir.

Morning, sir.

- Sidesaddle, Riley?

- Sidesaddle, sir.

Sidesaddle!

- Major Allshard, what in blazes...?

- I know. The wagon.

Yes. A wagon full of women's junk!

I can't hamper this patrol.

Particularly this patrol.

I'm sending my wife and her niece.

They'll go as far as Sudro's Wells.

They'll head east from there.

That's an order.

- I protest.

- I expected you to. Put it in writing.

I intend to!

Nathan, I sat up

half the night with this.

I can't keep the Dandridge girl here.

She ain't Army.

- I'll say! For these reasons.

- Coffee?

One... No. Yes.

There is a party of Cheyenne

Dog Soldiers raiding this territory.

- I think every woman...

- How many R's in "territory"?

Two.

Men, I want you to pay strict

attention to what I gotta say.

There's going to be women

with this column...

...and I want you men

to watch them words.

- Watch them words!

- Watch them grammar!

Whose dog is this?

Whose dog is this?

Nice dog. Irish setter.

Poor Abby. She says everyone

will think she's running away.

It'll be tough on me.

I'll be a bachelor all winter.

In conclusion,

I respectfully protest...

...the decision of

my commanding officer...

...to saddle his troop

with his female relations...

- One L.

- At this critical hour.

Signed Nathan Brittles, so forth.

Sounds good.

Give it to me, I'll file it.

- Hochbauer.

- Yes, sir.

This is a hard decision

for you to make. Gonna miss Abby.

Hate to hamstring you,

but you will take precautions?

- Mac.

- Forget it.

As you were, Hochbauer.

Well, here I am, all ready.

How did he take the idea of

old Iron Pants riding with him?

- Under protest, my dear.

- A written protest, of course.

Always my pleasure

to escort old Iron Pants.

As long as you're going along, we'll...

That is the dad-blastedest outfit I

ever saw. Quincannon's old britches!

Yes.

- Good morning, Mr. Cohill.

- Good morning.

I hope you approve of my uniform.

Yes, indeed.

It's very lovely, Olivia.

So Ross has branded you

with his yellow ribbon.

How do you know

it isn't for you, mister?

I'd be very happy

if I thought it were for me.

Very happy indeed.

- Morning!

- Trooper Dandridge reporting for duty.

Well, proper trooper!

Right pretty, don't you think?

I do indeed.

A yellow ribbon? You know what

that means here? A sweetheart.

- It does?

- Who's it for?

Why, for you, Captain Brittles.

For me! I'll make

these young bucks jealous.

Good morning. You look nice.

I hope Ross notices

that yellow ribbon.

I hope you're wearing

that yellow ribbon for me.

Why, who else would I be

wearing it for, Ross?

Right by twos!

Report.

Trailed Mr. Rynder's buckboard, sir,

a mile below the Painted Post.

- Painted Post?

- Met two men in a wagon.

- IKnow who they were?

- No, sir.

Didn't seem prudent to inquire.

What do you suppose

they're doing that far south?

Well, that ain't my department, sir.

We'll pick them up on our

next go-round. Take a point.

- Sergeant?

- Yes, sir.

Right through that pass.

Romantic, isn't it?

Guidons gaily fluttering.

Bronzed men lustily singing.

Horses prancing.

Bunions aching.

Must you always be

so vulgar, Mr. Cohill?

- The cavalry isn't refined, miss.

- Cavalry.

Ridiculous business of dismounting

and walking every hour.

Might as well be in the infantry.

We would be, if we didn't ease

these mounts. Ride in the wagon.

No. Why don't they put springs

in the wagons?

The men said they'd rather

have finger bowls.

Terribly funny, Mr. Cohill.

Greens and milk. Oh, the Army!

I planted 24 gardens in

the first 10 years of our marriage.

We never stayed long enough

to see a single bloom.

May I ride back? I'd rather

share the dust with Mr. Pennell.

Haven't you thrown enough dust

in his eyes?

Mr. Cohill, relieve Mr. Pennell

with the rear guard.

- Are you enjoying your walk out?

- Oh, yes. Yes, I am.

- Can you make them out?

- They look like Arapahos.

They're moving the whole village,

wagons, lodges and all.

Yeah.

I don't know where

you got your brains...

...but God must have given you

that pair of eyes. They're Arapahos.

Heading the same way we are.

Why would they be moving on

Sudro's Wells? Answer me that.

My mother didn't raise any sons to

be making guesses before a captain.

Well, I'd soon find out if...

We can't risk it with those women.

- Officer's call.

- Yes, sir.

Are those hostile Indians?

Will you fight them?

- Rejoin the column.

- Captain!

Get back in line

and keep your interval.

- I don't like it, Mr. Cohill.

- Arapahos, sir?

We're turning east.

Give them a wide berth.

- Approach Sudro's Wells from Twin Forks.

- We'll lose time.

- The ladies may miss the stage.

- You'd rather they miss their scalps?

Take the column, Mr. Cohill.

- I'm sorry, sir. I didn't...

- Shut up!

You're relieved. I'm taking over

the rear guard.

Glad you're going.

He hasn't spoken to me in three hours.

"The ladies may miss the stage."

He won't talk to you in three days.

- It'll be his last chance to.

- So you're still gonna resign.

- Through channels.

- I'll tear it up.

Every lieutenant has three resignations

in his first tour of duty.

You forget, I don't have

to depend on cavalry pay.

That's right, I had forgotten

your silver spoon.

- But I'll bet Miss Dandridge hasn't.

- How'd you like to pull your blouse?

I'll hold your coat,

Lieutenant Pennell.

Take your hooks out of Ross.

He'll make a fine officer.

- You're not his guardian or mine.

- I'm telling you anyway.

He's a spoiled kid.

The Army's his only chance...

...so if you can't take the Army,

leave him alone!

Buffalo!

- Buffalo, Mr. Cohill.

- Yes, sir.

The first time the herd's been this

far north since the summer of '68.

- You never saw a buffalo, Mr. Pennell?

- No, sir.

Before your time.

Sergeant Quincannon,

escort the ladies forward, please.

- Aunt Abby, that's really buffalo!

- Yes, it's buffalo.

That's a lot of buffalo.

It reminds me of the old days.

When whiskey was 50 cents a gallon.

- I'd love a taste of buffalo meat.

- Me too. Ain't never had it.

Beans is safer, you mark my word.

There'll be Injuns around

that herd thicker than flies.

What's your thinking?

Don't say it ain't your department.

Captain, I ain't getting paid

for thinking.

I read it this way. If I was a

young hot-blood like Red Shirt...

...anxious to show off

for them Cheyenne Dog Soldiers...

...l'd be down at them

council fires tonight telling...

...that I made the medicine

that brought back the buffalo.

I'd tell them about the Great Spirit.

How us Injuns should stick together...

...quit quarreling...

...and join our Cheyenne brothers

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