The Scalphunters
- NOT RATED
- Year:
- 1968
- 102 min
- 614 Views
# My mother was a Baptist, boys
# My father was a Jew
# At the battle of Waterloo
# Don't ever kiss a Hindu, boys
# Unless you are engaged
# True love is never found with girls
# Who dance upon the stage
# Andy Jackson saw a bear
# And chased him up a tree
# A hound dog would have caught the fox
# If he hadn't stopped to...
# My mother was a Baptist, boys
# My father was a Jew
# My sister married an orphan
# At the battle of Waterloo
Hello, Two Crows.
Like hell we will.
Damn your eyes,
I spent all winter getting them furs.
And they're not for trade here.
What the hell do I want with him?
I don't care how you got him.
Wait a minute. I know he's brave as
a buffalo. You don't have to slice him up.
I don't want him.
You're all right, Two Crows.
You'd be captain of the steamboat
and president of the bank.
Just cos you own this damn country.
What are you standing there for?
Can't you speak English?
- No, sir.
- What do you mean, "No, sir"?
I mean I wish I didn't.
Come over here.
Turn around.
You sure don't look like you're worth
a winter trapping of furs.
No, sir, I'm not.
In fact, sir, I'm not worth anything.
- What's your name?
- Joseph Winfield Lee.
Formerly of the Comanche tribe,
until stolen by the Kiowas.
- You're far from home. You run away?
- As the spirits directed me, sir.
You don't talk like a field slave.
You kill anybody when you ran off?
No, sir. That's contrary to the law.
You think what those Indians did to me
was the law?
- Just cos I'm trespassing?
- No, sir.
Caveat emptor legalis semper.
Let the buyer beware.
- I've heard that said.
- Where'd you learn them wise remarks?
I was privileged to associate with one of
the best-educated families in Louisiana.
- I can read, write and cipher.
- Don't brag on it.
- Pick up that bag. Let's go.
- Where to?
To get my furs back.
Where the hell do you think?
Can I ask you a question, sir? How
do you plan to fight all those Kiowas?
By natural application of superior tactics,
Massachusetts wit, and left-handed skill.
Oh. You're gonna shoot 'em, sir.
Hell, no.
There's a cask of trade rum in that pack.
Them Indians'll have a drunk party
and I'll get back my packhorse and furs.
- What about me, sir?
- I'll sell you to the highest bidder.
Could you make that to a Comanche?
You seem to have a prejudice
against serving the white race.
I don't mean to be narrow in my attitude.
Could I ask you what's your name, sir?
Joe Bass.
Well, Mr Bass, couldn't you kinda
consider me a captured Comanche?
I came on foot as far as the Comanches.
It was my intention
The Mexicans have a law against slavery.
And since those Indians captured me from
Indians, I now have full Indian citizenship.
- Joseph Lee, you ever study the law?
- No, sir.
Neither did I. But you ain't got a chance
in hell of calling yourself an Indian.
You're African.
Slave by employment, black by colour.
You ain't gonna walk good enough
to catch them Kiowas.
- I guess I'm a failure as a packhorse, sir.
- A man don't ever say quit, Joseph Lee.
No, sir. He doesn't.
Hand me that bag.
Crab onto her tail.
See the superiority of the white-skinned
race when it comes to walking.
My ancestors were famous as liars,
walkers and patriots. Are you patriotic?
Yes, sir. Fourth of July
I generally set up quite a holler.
Of course, if someone came along now
- You're riding, I'm walking.
- But that's not the case.
In a manner of speaking, you are
the image of my packhorse and fur pelts.
- I'd take good care of 'em, wouldn't I?
- Yes, sir.
They're a valuable
wholesale or retail commodity.
You wouldn't be thinking of
grabbing those reins and running off?
I doubt it, sir.
- You doubt it?
- I'm not sure of the directions.
I haven't any food and, as a Comanche,
I might run into those Kiowas again.
Tired?
You hear that? Two Crows and his boys
are in that gully having a hell of a time.
You just sit here and rest
for about five minutes while I take a look.
Pick 'em up.
- I've decided what I'm gonna do with you.
- Sell me to Egypt.
I'm gonna sell you in St Louis. You'll retail
for about 15 mules and 10 bales of cotton.
- Yes, sir.
- Don't try to run. You can't get nowhere.
- Yes, sir.
- And shut up.
Yes, sir.
Shh!
Well, Mr Bass, there they are. Co get 'em.
Just like that?
I'd say they're considerably
under the influence.
- You ever fight 12 drunk Indians?
- No, sir. But I'd like to see it done.
As a Comanche,
what I'd do is run off their horses.
You're an African Comanche.
But you're right.
- You see that brush?
- Yes, sir.
- I want you to get down there.
- Right now, sir?
When it gets dark.
That's mesquite. It'll burn.
- I want you to start a fire.
- What'll you do, sir?
When they go for the fire,
I'll stampede their horses.
They'll be so drunk, I'll get my packhorse
and furs and be gone.
- Can I say something, Mr Bass?
- What is it?
If you're gonna sell me back into being
a runaway slave, do it all yourself.
Of course, if you help me get to Mexico,
then maybe I'll help you.
Joseph Lee, I expect that someday
you'll be president of the Bank of Omaha.
But right now you're going down there
and do as I tell you.
Or I'll skin your black carcass.
Cet my rifle. Co on.
Over there!
All right, let's go!
Scalphunters.
Collect a $25 bounty on Indian scalps.
Men, women and children. Like jackals.
Territory government pays it.
Dirtiest, rottenest trade
ever turned a dollar.
- Let's go.
- Where are we going, sir?
After 'em.
After 'em?
How the hell do you think I'm going to
get my furs back if I don't go after 'em?
Mr Bass, I do not intend to put up with
any more of this walking.
Now, either you slow down
and talk to me,
or I'll just have to pull you off that horse
and knock you on your high-priced pants.
Are you deaf as well as dumb, Mr Bass?
Mr Bass, you're threatening my temper.
Mr Bass!
Mr Bass.
Sir, why are you so bound and determined
to catch up with those murdering people?
Haven't you got anything else to do?
I just don't say something, then not do it.
I am completely
and absolutely exhausted. Empty.
- I've got to have something to eat.
- You ate yesterday.
Mr Bass, I have been trained in the habit
of eating each and every individual day.
That proves you ain't a Comanche.
Comanche would keep going till he died.
- I'm so hungry I could eat a frog or snake.
- Comanches do. Regular.
- But I'm not a Comanche.
- Aha!
Oh, Mr Bass.
You see that?
Sego lily. Just like an onion.
Finest thing you ever saw.
You see this?
Sagebrush.
Crows where nothing else will.
You make Indian tea out of the leaves,
and it makes a passable fodder for stock.
All natural creation.
Maguey. Makes a fine soap
for washing down a squaw.
Brings the bloom of sunrise to her skin.
Watch this.
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