The Shooting of Caribou Lou
- APPROVED
- Year:
- 1967
- 6 min
- 23 Views
Whoa.
Coigne?
Whoa.
Hey, Leland!
I'm tired as hell!
Damn.
"Leland Drum.
A good friend shot dead...
by I don't know what...
and buried in this spot by Coley
Boyard, his good friend...
in April."
Coley!
Who is that down there?
Willett!
That you, Coley?
Willett who?
Gashade! Gashade!
What's the matter with you?
You step out so's I can
see you, if it's you.
You look! That over there's the pack
mule, and that's Frazer, ain't it?
Well, so who could I be?
- Willett?
- He's crazy.
That's right! It's me!
Hi, Will!
Been sittin' up in the
mine for two days.
Spooked near crazy.
Would've shot anything
on two legs moving, Will.
'Ceptin' you. If I knowed it
was you, I sure wouldn't have...
Never mind. Just tell me
what you're telling me.
You should've been here, Willett!
Lettin' me go on thinkin'
everyone's dead and me next.
I pulled up fever-sick,
I said, Coley.
Now, become calm and tell me
in a way I can understand.
Where is Coigne?
Well, like I said, after you was gone Leland
and Coigne decided to run into Winslow.
For the pleasure, Coigne says.
"Can I go?" He says no.
"Someone's gotta watch over stores
and things, so you stay, Coley."
Well, then they go off.
Not comin' back till
next morning, early.
I get waked by them
pounding in like hell-bent.
Then I hear 'em talking mad and arguing,
so as I conclude they're drunk.
I mean to go back to sleep when your
brother Coigne tears inside here...
and grabs up his roll
mad as I ever seen.
I said, "What are you doing, Coigne?"
"Shut up," he says.
"I am taking your horse."
And he tears back out.
Sure enough, I see him throw
onto my Shorty and dig out fast.
spittin' in the dust, disgusted.
"How come Coigne rode off
that-a-way, Leland?"
"He rode a man and a little person
down in the streets of Winslow.
Maybe it was a child," Leland says.
"But did he kill 'em?" I ask.
"He's not for sure, but he ain't waitin'
to find out, and now he's runnin'."
"Oh, I hate to hear it," I says.
Then I crawls back in to sleep,
assuming Leland done the same.
But damned if I don't
get waked again.
Leland's voice I hear,
and I don't know whose.
Thinking it's your brother, I open up the
flap and look out at Leland drinking coffee.
I can't see nothing else, so I ask,
"Who you talking to, Leland?"
He looks like he's makin' to answer
or to take a mouth of coffee...
when just like that...
his face all spitters out...
spilling in his coffee
and all over hisself...
with none of his
face left on with it.
I reckon someone come to settle with Coigne
on account of what happened in Winslow...
and got Leland instead.
Figurin' I'm next, I jumped
back inside, scared white.
Give me the whips and
jingles so bad, Will, I...
I can't yet catch hold of myself.
Is that the whole way of it, Coley?
I believe.
My mind's all unsatisfied with it.
Seem to me like if Leland had been
involved with the event in Winslow...
he'd have rode off too, wouldn't he,
like the way you told me Coigne done.
Run a man and a little person down.
That's all Leland said. Maybe it was a child.
He's just a-sittin' there,
gettin' killed that-a-way?
I got no understanding of it at all.
It's a terrible thing.
- Give me hold of your gun, Coley.
- What you want it for?
so just give it to me.
No. I might be just a-needin' it too.
How do I know? All these happenings.
I hate to tell ya,
all riled up like you are...
but I been trailed most of the
way here by I don't know who.
Where's your own gun?
Go on and use your own gun.
Well, it plainly ain't there,
or I wouldn't be asking you.
No, sir. No. Not with
trouble on the way.
I'm tired, Coley.
And I can't get me no sleep
without you give it to me.
What about me?
It's all right.
You'll be dependin' on me.
Whereas it wouldn't have worked
out the other way around.
Well, here I sit.
Just keep an ear, Coley.
Sure. Them with the gun can sleep.
Ain't as though I ain't been hawkin' night
sounds till I can't tell a twit from a twig.
Shoot, I'm as tired as you.
Every bit.
Willett?
Hey, Will?
I'm depending on you.
Okay?
Lord A'mighty.
I'm so hungry I could
chaw off my own arm.
I wouldn't sit there, Will.
And right like you're sittin',
drinkin' coffee.
Go on and stow them stores
in the tent, Coley.
Maybe... Maybe could
have been your imagination.
Huh, Will? Y-You think?
Do like I say.
Aw, shoot.
How come I always
gotta be the one to...
Sure gonna be a bunch
of ugly work, I'll tell ya...
with just the one hand.
One more thing ain't to my likin'.
Aw, Bill, you can have my saddle
George, you can take my bed
Jack can have my pistol, boys
After I am dead
- Something's comin'.
- Boys...
Hey, remember, Willett,
how Leland used to sing that song?
'Member?
Oh, boys, think upon me kindly
As you gaze upon my grave
Yes, sir.
Hey!
You crazy?
You crazy? Don't stand there! Git!
Lord A'mighty, what's comin'?
Go on then, Willett! Cover yourself!
I ain't got no gun! Remember?
How am I gonna be dependin' on you,
starin' out into the sky like that?
Shut up!
I see somethin'!
- Something's comin'!
- From where?
Straight ahead. A bit to the right.
Get up here, Willett,
while there's still time!
- Just one?
- I can't see.
Yeah. Yeah, one.
All right, Coley, get quiet now.
Duck back down.
Don't say nothin' at all.
I'm gonna... get down.
Will!
It's a woman.
Will ya look.
Will ya just look at that.
I'd be grateful if you'd
sell me one of your horses.
You didn't arrive all to here afoot.
broke a leg. I shot him.
I'll pay you well for a good
horse and for some shelter.
And if you would help me, please,
I need to get my things off my horse.
Well, I'd sure be glad to, ma'am.
Wouldn't we, Will?
No trouble at all.
I'd like the brown one.
The bay?
Oh, well, that bay there is Will's.
His, I mean, ma'am.
I like that one.
Well, main thing is,
I believe Will, he does too.
I like the brown one!
I'm gon' give you that
black over there, miss.
He belonged to a dead man,
so's you don't have to pay for him.
Coley, fetch Leland's pony
out with just a bridle on her.
What about Coigne's, Will?
Then I don't wanna be stuck with him.
Are you looking at me, Mr. Gashade?
How do you come by that name?
I hear you're a bounty
hunter, Mr. Gashade.
- I wouldn't name myself as that.
- No?
It was just a way of
making wages once.
- And now?
Well, you look less
than prosperous at it.
How much would you ask to take me
across the Supuecio to Kingsley?
I ain't askin'.
I told you I'd pay you very well.
And I said I'm doing just fine.
Look at me, Mr. Gashade.
Without perishing from the
tricks of my own mind...
to Kingsley on my own?
Well, I ain't the only one
knows the way, ma'am.
But it's you I'm asking.
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"The Shooting of Caribou Lou" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_shooting_of_caribou_lou_18037>.
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