The Burrowers

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It's about Maryanne.

I... I'd like...

Mr. Stewart,

I'd like to talk to you.

I've come... I've come

to Washburn Creek.

...to talk to you...

oh, good Jesus.

To your home.

I've come to your home.

...to talk to you about Maryanne.

I'd like...

I'd like very much to ask...

Maryanne...

I'd like to talk to you.

...about Maryanne.

It's about...

it's about Maryanne.

Maryanne?

Hold still.

I don't want to go

to bed yet, not now.

Oh, stop your fussing.

Come on.

The splinter already hurts more

than pulling it out.

Okay?

Mary...

- I'm not sleepy.

- We'll store you to bed.

You need to take

your rest too, Mary...

...if you want to look pretty when your

Irish comes courting tomorrow.

You hush.

Hold still.

What's that?

Get him over there.

Aster, come.

Come here.

- What's happening?

- They were in the Williams house.

- Indians?

- Stay with the women.

Down into

the root cellar, get.

Let's go.

- Come on now.

- Come on.

Come on down.

Keep your lamp low

and this door locked.

You don't open it no matter what.

Ma! Ma!

- Ma, Ma.

- Quiet.

Mind your brother now.

Hush.

Josh.

Don't cry.

Be brave for me.

Josh!

Josh!

Josh! Josh!

Maryanne? Mary?

Anybody home?

Mr. Williams, sir...

...the Stewarts

aren't home.

Oh, God.

Oh, Jesus.

Oh!

The Stewarts are gone.

Easy. Did Mary say anything

to you about leaving?

No.

What about the Williamses?

No, you gotta...

Oh, God.

Damn it.

Indians took 'em.

God help 'em.

We've got to

get them back.

I hit three men up there.

Really?

Indians, anyway.

I hit them dead.

Don't feed Dobie your

horseshit, Mr. Parcher.

That ain't horseshit.

That's history.

Boy ought to learn

where he's come from.

Mind the cursing

in front of my boy.

Yes, ma'am.

Great God Almighty,

is that coconut cake?

Mom got it special.

Baked it.

Coconut cake

from back East.

not a mile from here...

I had to eat a horse

to survive.

That's disgusting.

It wasn't my horse.

The point is.

we're here now

eating coconut cake.

Right civilized country.

There's chicken and cornbread.

I know it. I'll attend to that

cornbread directly.

There's a rider.

Listen, cowboy, how about you take

your mother in the house?

He's wearing a funny hat.

I think it's your ranch hand,

Mr. Coffey.

Anybody can wear a funny hat.

That ain't Sunday riding.

Go on, take your

mother inside.

Let's go, Dobie.

Go on.

Coffey, God damn it,

I was having a picnic.

Indians...

they killed...

There.

It's from Mr. Clay.

They took Maryanne,

took the whole family.

I can read.

Oh, Jesus.

Did the Indians kill them little

Williams girls too?

No, looks like

Mr. Williams did.

That's a hell

of a thing to say.

If we're dealing

with Crow or Ute...

Dobie could see things

a boy shouldn't have to.

I've made up my mind, Will.

You've already lost

a man to the Indians.

I don't want to risk another.

I don't have a man in this house.

I've got a boy.

Take him to Washburn Creek

and bring him back.

Maybe then I'll have two.

- Them horses ready?

- Yes, sir.

We're all set, Mr. Parcher.

Then let's get to it.

Mr. Parcher's lived

through everything.

...this country could

throw at him.

You stay close and mind him.

You'll be fine.

Oh.

She should have bled out more.

Same with the girls.

Ida and Daphne.

I think those were

their names.

You want to wait outside?

No.

Good.

I wonder.

what kind of weapon

makes a wound like that.

No scalping knife

I know of.

Maybe some kind of chisel.

That gun only fires twice.

He would have had

to have reloaded it.

...if he wanted

to kill everybody.

Any Christian woman would

prefer dying to capture.

Mr. Williams

had time to reload.

...because his wife

gave it to him.

If it came to that...

I hope you'd be

strong enough.

...to take care

of your mother.

I suppose a wild buffalo

could have done this.

Looks like you've found yourself

a hole in the ground there, Will.

That and four corpses.

...and six missing...

...most of those being

women and children.

I'll get the horses.

Hold up now.

It's in my command.

I gotta know

who we're hunting.

How long have

the Indians had them?

Near a day now.

Mm, well...

...that's more than enough time for

those women to have been...

Yes, so why aren't we

on the trail?

You want to go face an Indian

war party on your lonesome?

Those blanketheads

will peel you like an orange, boy.

Follow along.

We'll do this thing right.

Don't worry.

We'll find them.

Hey, you all right?

We should be going after them.

You knew these people?

I do.

The Stewarts anyway.

That's Maryanne.

She yours?

I was working on her.

Alas! And did my Savior bleed.

And did my Sovereign die?

Would He devote that sacred head.

For such a worm as I?

Thy body slain.

Sweet Jesus, Thine.

And bathed in its own blood.

While the firm mark

of wrath divine.

His soul in anguish stood.

Christ.

Who's Henry Victor's Indian?

That's Ten Bear, a Crow Indian.

The man's paid for his worth.

Hey, Walnut, Mr. Victor's

canteen's dry.

He called you Walnut.

Yeah, he did.

Is that your name?

The name's Callaghan.

Callaghan.

You Irish?

That man that calls me Walnut

believes he's better than me.

'cause nobody ever owned him.

But I'm not enlisted.

I cook for Fort Lincoln,

but I'm paid.

I can leave anytime I want.

You understand?

Sure.

I'm Fergus Coffey.

Coffey.

You black?

Damnation.

What?

We're not gonna find any

kidnapped wives at a reservation.

I know it.

We could set off

on our own.

Might could, though it would

only be four of us.

...to we don't know

how many 'skins.

We have to find

the Stewarts.

If we can do that with Henry Victor's

help... Fine. If not...

I guess you've had every chance to

and ain't killed us yet.

Whoa.

Whoa.

Whoa. Whoa.

Mr. Parcher.

Hey hey.

Sorry, Dobie.

It must have stepped

in a prairie-dog hole.

Listen, cowboy...

why don't you hump on ahead.

...and see how much further

we're gonna press on before camp?

Yes, sir.

Go on now.

Why do you spend so much time

rubbing that boy's belly?

He already thinks

you're Jesus Crockett.

I'm courting

his mother.

That's Gertrude Spacks' boy?

Yeah.

A skinny woman.

Might as well

just poke the boy.

That's not a very

godly sentiment.

- Hey, son.

- Mr. Victor, sir, Mr. Parcher told me...

Take a look yonder.

Is that a horse?

Go on.

He's seen us.

You think I didn't know that?

Why ain't he running?

Well, why don't we ask him?

Parcher.

We don't have time

for this, Will.

Every prisoner

is gonna slow us.

Yeah, well, I'd rather walk

in the right direction.

...than ride with my head

up my ass.

What's happening to these

Stewart women right now?

This isn't

your outfit, Clay.

This soldiers are

under my authority...

...mine.

As long as you ride

with us, so are you.

That Injun doesn't know sh*t.

He wouldn't talk if he did.

Mm-hmm, yeah.

He'll talk.

He'll talk.

- Hey.

- Walnut. Sorry, Callaghan.

You don't want

to see that.

Do you know

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