The Unforgiven Page #4

I kissed her.

No, it ain't possible.

I did kiss her!

By God, I did, baby.

I kissed her!

I kissed her. It's true, I kissed her.

Ma thanks you kindly for coming.

There, there.

Zeb.

She don't seem to know me, child.

- I've just got to put my arms around her.

- Yes, dear.

Don't touch me.

And get out of this house!

Dirty Injun, with your Injun ways.

- Ain't you done enough?

- Miss Rawlins?

Wound yourself around my son Charlie

to get yourself a litter of half-breeds...

to run around my Charlie's cabin!

Squaw! Kiowa squaw!

Red n*gger as ever was!

- What does she mean?

- It's only her grief.

You killed him!

- Woman.

- You killed him!

Be quiet.

I've got to know the why of it.

It's the last thing I want to ask you,

but I've got to know.

All right, Zeb.

There'll be no work, no branding cattle,

no drive to Wichita...

till we settle this thing between us.

I'll take every man who can sit a horse

and hunt him down.

I'll bring him before you to admit his lies,

before I hang him.

Pray God they be lies.

I want every man-jack of you

to ride with me.

It ain't his.

- It's Guipago, all right.

- He's about an hour ahead of us.

On that white stallion,

that's as good as a week.

Glory, glory, hallelujah

Glory, glory, hallelujah

Look at him! Damn his ugly soul!

Sitting up there laughing at us.

I want the man who rides lightest

to take my horse and two others...

and cut out after him.

That'd be you, Portugal. Where are you?

How much are you paying?

Nothing.

Give me that horse.

Here they come!

It's a welcome sight.

I say it in my heart, it's a welcome sight...

to see you folks here gathered.

How do, Mr. Rawlins, sir?

You think you got a horse thief here.

You ain't.

That horse I took from an Injun girl.

A redhide Injun.

And you can't do a man hurt for that,

now can you?

Mr. Rawlins,

I want you to know how sorry I am...

about your son, Mr. Rawlins.

There's nobody here knows better than me

what it is to lose a son.

How'd you know my son was dead?

Someone told me, of course.

Who told you?

It must've been somebody here.

Whoever it was,

would you step forward, please?

I ain't gonna die.

Put it around his neck, boys.

Devils. You all turned to devils!

You're all gonna burn on the Day, devils.

Look at that book, Mr. Kelsey.

Touch your hands to it.

It's the Holy Bible, Mr. Kelsey.

It's your last chance to cleanse your soul

before you meet your maker.

God, oh, God, have them hearken unto me...

to me, oh God, whose own son

was took by the Kiowas.

Rachel Zachary.

I want to know about Rachel Zachary!

Injun. Redhide whelp as ever was.

True, it's true.

His papa knew.

Go on, old man.

And he knew my boy.

His name was Aaron.

He had blue eyes.

Young as he was...

I taught him to hold and fire a gun.

Tell us about Rachel Zachary!

It was raining.

Long ago.

We saddled up, Will Zachary and me...

and many others...

riding against the Kiowas

for a massacre they done.

We come to an Injun camp.

We killed...

and we killed...

and we had to lay down, tired of the killing.

I heard a baby cry.

I went and found her.

A little baby,

strapped to a Kiowa cradle board.

She had Injun paint on her belly...

on the flat of her hands

and the soles of her feet.

I had my hand on her throat...

when Will Zachary said to me:

"There'll be no more killing.

No more killing today."

And he took her from me.

I swear it.

I swear it, as I know I'm about to die.

I swear it to you, God.

And he took her to Mathilda,

and they kept her as theirs.

Kept her in their own house.

And when the Kiowas captured my boy...

I come to Will Zachary and I said:

"Give me that redhide baby to trade.

"To take to the Kiowas to get back my boy."

Will Zachary wouldn't do it.

He wouldn't do it.

And my boy stayed captive.

His son is dead...

killed by the Kiowas...

the very day my papa found Rachel

in a settler's wagon...

wrapped in a Boston blanket.

Her parents were killed

by the same Kiowas that killed his son.

But he wouldn't believe that.

He came to my papa and he said:

"Will Zachary, swap her! Swap Rachel.

"She's white,

but she's a foundling, a catch colt.

"Give her to the Indians,

so I can get my son back."

That's what he said to my papa,

and my papa ran him off the land.

And Abe Kelsey rode vengeance on us...

till the people in each town

turned against us.

Till my papa was killed by a Kiowa lance!

And that old man made you run.

That poor old man

chased you from town to town.

That poor old man with his lies.

No.

You run from the truth.

She knows.

She, that washed off that Kiowa paint.

Washed it all off!

Though she still be...

as brown as the bark of a tree.

I hanged him!

Abe Kelsey won't go on

to destroy no one else with his lies!

It's finished, and high time!

Jude!

Boys, lift me up.

I want a look at the man's face.

Can a man lie

when he goes to meet his creator?

He wasn't lying, Zeb!

I told you that. And now you know it.

Rachel, come here.

Come on, child. I ain't gonna hurt you.

Rachel, no!

I ain't scared, Mama.

You're dark.

Darker than most.

But that could be the sun.

- We're gonna have to look at your body.

- You leave her be!

Strip her down! Strip her down naked!

Let the women take her in the house

and undress her.

Anyone touches her, I'll put a bullet

through their God-fearing gut.

I've loved you

as well as I've loved my own sons...

but we're finished.

Unless you pack this girl back

to the Kiowas, we're partners no more.

Cash, Andy.

We're leaving.

Five years' work, gone for nothing.

You'll lose every cent

you got tied up in the cattle.

That's what you're doing.

Not a man here will stand up with you.

Not one.

Early in the morning,

we'll start cutting out your herd.

May God help you, Ben!

Nobody here will!

Ben.

I smell Injun.

Rachel, Mama, don't move.

Let in some light.

What is it?

It's Kiowa.

It's a page out of their Bible...

like Chronicles.

This is old. Feel of it.

Thirty-odd years recorded here,

winter by winter.

What does it say?

Falling stars.

The year of the falling stars.

Baby girl strapped to a cradle board.

- Burn it!

- Don't touch it, Mama.

Burn it, Ben!

I won't have that filth in my house!

Please, Mama.

Read what it says, Ben.

Read it.

Kiowa baby girl, stolen from their camp...

by white men, with rifles.

Did Abe Kelsey paint this, Mama?

Did he do this?

Did he put these lies down, year by year?

Did he, Mama?

Did he?

That man you hanged last night

in Rawlins' yard.

You tell me, Mama.

Answer him, Mama.

All right!

It's the truth.

My sister's an Injun?

Yes.

If we could only raise some decent flowers,

instead of these scrawny old things.

Your papa brought me the little girl child.

He put her in my arms as I lay crying.

I'd just lost my own little girl baby

with yellow curls.

Not old enough to be named when she died.

So I gave her promised name to Rachel.

My ownest Rachel.

My beautiful little Indian baby.

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