The Shepherd of the Hills

Synopsis: Young Matt Masters, an Ozark Mountains moonshiner, hates the father he has never seen, who apparently deserted Matt's mother and left her to die. His obsession contributes to the hatred rampant in the mountains. However, the arrival of a stranger, Daniel Howitt, begins to positively affect the mountain people, who learn to shed their hatred under his gentle influence. Still, Matt does not quite trust Howitt.....
Director(s): Henry Hathaway
Production: Paramount Pictures
 
IMDB:
7.1
APPROVED
Year:
1941
98 min
592 Views


Kinda free with your powder, ain't ya?

Not when I'm aimin' at a moonshiner

with four jugs slung over his shoulder.

Accordin' to the law, a man's

got a right to tote his liquor...

wherever it fits him best,

inside or out.

And he ain't a moonshiner

till he sells it and gets caught at it.

The way you talk up for these

superstitious mountain people,

you'd think that every third 'shiner

is your nephew.

Well, I've been up here long enough for

the government to know just where I stand.

And you better be careful potshottin'

at these nephews whose uncle I ain't.

Hey, Charlie, come here!

Take a look at this!

I told you I got him.

Cow. Cow?

Yeah. Lamentin' cow.

Full udder and nobody to milk her.

Lamentin', huh?

Snakes.

Get these hid away from here.

Let Wash do it.

Do what you're told. Jim Lane's

standin' watch for us at Holler Ridge.

Let him find his own cover.

Get these things hid away.

Douse that fire. Watch that smoke.

Are you deef?

Revenuers! Dump that mash

and scatter till I call ya.

Who lives there?

Jim Lane and his daughter, Sammy.

Come in.

Andy!

Hello, Sammy.

You're lookin' fine.

How's everything with you, Jim?

Well, Andy, I can't complain.

You're here just in time. We got a powerful

lot of johnnycake and squirrel stew.

There's only one more plate, unless

they wanna eat stew out of their hands.

No, thanks, Sammy.

We got business to attend to.

Well, are you satisfied?

So long, Jim.

Bye, Sammy.

Good-bye.

They hit me without no warnin'.

Easy. Easy, young'un.

Don't hurt out loud, Pappy.

Here. Careful.

The murderin' hounds. I was right

down at the fork of the creek.

Young Matt givin' you sorghum beer

for spottin' revenuers...

while he's totin' his corn whiskey

down into town!

Someday I'll... Don't aggravate

yourself. It's me is shot.

'Tain't like it was Young Matt's fault.

Yeah!

It's you that's shot, just like you said.

Not him!

Come in.

What do you want?

My name's Daniel Howitt. I...

Don't you touch him!

This looks bad.

It's stopped bein' bad and turned worse.

I can take care of him.

That bullet's still with him.

I said I can take care of him.

I got salve. I got cobwebs...

This is no time to argue!

Boil some water

and get some clean rags.

When do you aim to take him?

Take him?

You're just wellin' him

to take him to jail, ain't you?

I've been tryin' to tell ya.

I'm Daniel Howitt.

I came here to get some information,

to get acquainted.

Why?

Well, I'd like to buy a piece

of land, settle down here. Why?

I... gonies! The man was

right clever with me,

and you act like he was a fine-hair.

Folks like him don't come to land

what's been corned out.

Land with seed ticks and chinch bugs

and whoopin' cough and...

Why'd you come?

I didn't ask you how he got shot.

No, you didn't, for a fact.

Evenin', brother.

Hello, Sammy.

Keep joggin', Young Matt.

Don't get off that horse!

Don't get your dander up.

I just come to see is your pa home.

He is, and we don't need

you and your kind askin' after him.

I guess then I'll have

to invite myself in.

Get on up the hill, Rowdy.

Tell Aunt Mollie

I want stack cakes...

and roast yearlin'coon

with plenty of gravy!

And tell her we ain't aimin' to stand

for no more sickness and misery!

My, ain't the birds a... hollerin'

pretty. You and your devilment!

Aunt Mollie and Old Matt and their poison

ways, makin' people scared of livin'!

There's bluebirds nestin'

all over the mountain.

Liquor totin' and gettin' drunk

and raisin'Jupiter to suit yourselves!

Your eyes are cussin' pretty tonight.

Makin' the hants do your biddin'!

Givin' the sick a soon start to die,

makin' the well dark-eyed and fearful.

Why can't your dead mother

keep her unhappiness in her grave?

Leave my mother be.

Oh, Matt, why do you keep doin' it?

All the way up the trail he bled.

What are you talkin' about?

They shot him, Matt.

Did they...

I'm all right.

What happened? I was drinkin'

when I should've been watchin'.

Andy Beeler?

Yeah.

And two new ones with him.

Looks like... he'll never learn.

Well, they're startin' somethin'

they better know how to finish.

Who's he?

My name's Daniel Howitt.

What's he here for?

He's my cousin.

Now, that isn't...

This here's young Matt Mathews.

Mr. Howitt says he's gonna live here.

That's right. I plan to stay here.

It ain't likely for strangers...

to find these parts to settle down in.

I brought along some

good fishing tackle.

We might give 'em a try

when the weather's right.

Let me know can I do

anything for ya, Jim.

Even Sammy's sayin' it now, Ma.

All the lies they teached her.

Blamin' us for all

their ails and sufferin'.

You for all the unseen things

God lets be.

Me for the fightin' and meanness.

Well, maybe they're right

about me, but you...

I'll stop 'em.

Some one of these days I'll find him,

him that... never came back to ya.

Do you suppose the Mathews

would sell me some of their land?

Might... if you was that crazy.

They got money cramps.

But don't let 'em sell ya

Moanin' Meadow.

Moanin' Meadow?

That's where the hant comes from.

Frogs as quiet as grave rocks,

and the light comin' from nowhere.

The trees don't rustle,

and the flowers grow big,

but they don't have pretty smells.

Bad land,

like everything has got

the name of Mathews is bad, exceptin'

'Ceptin' Young Matt!

He ain't naturally bad.

Them's the ones that makes him so.

Them?

Them as won't let the dead rest!

His uncle, Old Matt,

with his fire-spittin' tongue.

That old she-devil crow, Aunt Mollie.

And Pete, without

no brains and no hope.

All of'em makin' Matt a sick soul,

raisin' him to murder,

to murder his pa

who run off and left him.

And all of'em guilting her,

she who never done no hurt

to no one of God's critters.

She?

His mother.

Coot.

It's Coot Royal.

The baby.

Yeah.

She's needin' some elm bark tea.

Poor young'un can't hardly breathe.

She... She's near dyin'.

I... gonies!

No, you don't, Pappy.

You stay here. You're too gaunted.

I'll go with her.

It's just a trot and gallop

down the trail.

I knowed it.

I knowed it when I heared

the fox bark in the night...

and my voice growed damp

when I prayed.

Sammy.

Get a clean rag and a little stick.

Fix me a swab, Sammy.

She's done it!

She's sent the hex on us!

It's me done it, Granny Lady,

'cause I ain't never been no good.

The sorriest critter on the creek,

with things always

windin' out black for me...

and nothin' to give ya but poke

sallet and no-good hog mollies.

You've given me more than that!

You always call me "lady. "

And I can sit here and rest myself

in a milk-white castle.

It's her in Moanin' Meadow

that walks through the night,

touchin' nothing

but layin' her hand on all.

It's them darn Mathews on the knob.

It's him, the spittin' snake that never

come back to claim his own wood's colt!

It's him!

The stranger, Coot,

he brung her back to us

like a good shepherd.

Your little girl was choked up

and became unconscious.

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Grover Jones

Grover Jones (November 15, 1893 – September 24, 1940) was an American screenwriter - often teamed with William Slavens McNutt - and film director. He wrote more than 104 films between 1920 and his death. He also was a film journal publisher and prolific short story writer. Jones was born in Rosedale, Indiana, grew up in West Terre Haute, Indiana, and died in Hollywood, California. He was the father of American polo pioneer Sue Sally Hale. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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