They Died with Their Boots On Page #8

I'm on the active list.

Lieutenant colonel, raising a regiment

of cavalry at Fort Lincoln.

They passed up 50 senior officers

to give me the job.

Oh, darling, how wonderful.

I'm so glad for you.

But where is Fort Lincoln?

In the Dakota Territory, I think. Wait.

I'll get the map. Sit down. Sit down.

Callie. General Custer and I

are going away.

You must pack the things

I mentioned this morning.

But, Miss Libby, what about all your

lovely things? Your china, your silver...

...and all your pretty clothes?

Well, I'll have to leave those behind.

Callie...

...I'll have to leave you too.

Miss Libby, ain't y'all gonna have nobody

to fix for you while you're up there?

I'll get along, Callie.

It's ridiculous.

Giving up your home and your life.

I hope the general appreciates

what you're doing.

Fort Lincoln. Fort Lincoln.

Here it is, see?

You go by rail to Bismarck...

...and from then on, by wagon trail.

Move over, before I cut

the rest of your tail off.

- I beg your pardon?

- I said, move over, you dirty Ethiopian...

...son of a blue-bellied Mohawk!

You mean the horse.

Stop that, you ornery, owl-faced floozy,

or I'll spit in your ear.

You made it.

Shucks, that ain't nothing. I can spit

in a prairie dog's eye at 50 feet.

Ain't nobody in these parts can beat

California Joe when it comes to spitting.

And who's California Joe?

Who...?

- That's me.

- Oh, I see.

You come from California.

No, ma'am. No.

Then why do they call

you California Joe?

Why, I guess because l...

Because I've been aiming there

for 27 years...

...and it looks like I'll be aiming there

for 27 more years, with these...

...Indians on the warpath here again.

Are we likely to see any today?

No more likely than you are to see them

soldiers in their fancy pants from the fort.

How is old California?

Taught you how to chew tobacco?

No, he's been teaching

me about Indians.

Let me tell you, he has no respect

for soldiers, sir.

He hasn't? What's wrong with him?

Everything they don't know

is about Indians.

Indians is too ignorant to fight right.

They fight wrong every time.

That's why the soldiers

always get licked.

To lick an Indian, you gotta fight them

like an Indian.

Might be something to that.

How would you like a job?

What, me?

Be a soldier,

and wear them fancy pants...

...and wash my ears with store soap

and sleep in a bed?

No, sir!

My business is shooting, not saluting.

I can't salute, anyway. I got

rheumatism in my saluting arm. L...

Well! I'm a dirty... Look!

- What's wrong? What do you see?

- Skin your eyeballs, son.

There's a redskin over

that rock yonder.

- Indians?

- One, maybe two.

On your belly, ma'am.

After them, men.

George. George.

Come on. Get out of here.

Signal your people. Drive back my

horses, or I'll hang you at the fort gate.

You give word?

- No kill with rope?

- I give word.

Now signal.

I speak.

Why you dirty, moth-eaten, cockeyed

son of a rat!

If it ain't old Crazy Horse...

...chief of the Sioux.

What a shivaree there's gonna be when

they drag you to Fort Lincoln on a rope.

We'll take him there.

He can cool off for 60 days.

Maybe he'll be good.

Tie him up. Put him in the wagon.

We better vamoose out of here quick...

...before the rest come

to get the chief.

I think you're right, Joe.

California, California.

What did she say?

She wants to know if she can

name the papoose after me.

How charming.

Turn out the guard.

Get rid of that cigar.

Guard, turn out.

Look at that guard.

Filthy as mountain goats.

They don't even know how to stand.

The regiment's just been mustered in.

- We haven't a colonel yet.

- You've got one now.

Why aren't there any patrols?

Why are you all hiding in this fort?

This fort isn't here to protect the Army.

The Army should protect the trail.

Crazy Horse's Sioux are raiding.

We've orders to wait.

You have, have you?

Bring out that Indian.

I'd like you to see,

Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-ls...

...what's been holding up

a whole regiment of U.S. Cavalry.

- Crazy Horse.

- Yeah, string him up.

Back, back. All of you, back.

Or I'll turn him loose

and let him chase you.

You give word, Long Hair.

Shoot now. No rope.

I give word, Crazy Horse.

I keep my word.

Tell off a detail.

Take him to the guardhouse.

Yes, sir.

You four men, take the prisoner.

- And see that he's well treated.

- Yes, sir.

You'll find headquarters

straight ahead, sir.

Out of the way.

California, why are Indians in the fort?

They're trading for rifles.

Rifles?

Libby.

You go on. I'll return shortly.

California, take the wagons

on to my quarters.

Sure. Say, about that joining the Army.

I calculate I could change my mind...

...if I didn't have to wear

them fancy pants. And no saluting.

Up there, hoghead. Come on!

Where's the owner? I want to see him.

Boss.

- Well, look who's here.

- You.

- Are you in charge here?

- Yep.

General manager of all

the company's trading stores.

- You turned down a good thing, Custer.

- Colonel Custer to you.

I'm in command here,

and don't you ever forget it.

- Tell me what you're selling rifles for.

- For $ 75 apiece.

Civil War surplus bought

from the government.

You're selling them to Indians?

Why are they in the fort?

They're friendlies.

Friendlies.

I certainly hope you're right, Sharp.

These Winchesters will outrange any

of our cavalry rifles, and you know it.

Attention. Commanding officer.

Sergeant, there's two men

brawling outside.

Have them arrested for drunkenness.

They're supposed to be cavalrymen.

- Yes, sir.

- At ease, men.

Well, colonel, I hope you like

your recruits.

They're about the worst lot of rustlers,

gunmen and outcasts I've ever seen.

The scum of the earth.

It seems to be your business

to worsen them.

Now, look, Sharp.

I want this bar closed.

I want it closed now.

It is run under a government franchise.

You can't close it.

- Sergeant.

- Yes, sir?

Turn out a squad of armed men.

Close this place up.

Men...

...this bar is a lawful business.

The company's got one

in every Army post.

Now, you know your rights, boys.

Nobody can tell you how

to spend your pay, right?

Wait a minute, men.

Wait a minute.

I have to admit that what Mr. Sharp

says is perfectly correct.

I've no legal reason to close this bar.

None whatsoever.

And I won't...

...providing Mr. Sharp doesn't mind

being taken...

...and slung through the mirror

every time it's open...

...commencing one minute from now.

Close it up.

Now, listen, men...

...I'm not doing this to be a bluenose.

I know it's tough,

not being able to drink.

It's tough on me too...

...maybe it's tougher.

But when I break down and drink...

...is when this bar

is going to open again.

I don't ask any man to stick

to something I can't stick to myself...

...and that's the way it will be

in this regiment.

Gun no work. You fix.

Safety catch. See?

Here.

What did I tell you?

Them dirty, lying, flea-bitten

friendlies let him go.

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