Thunderhead - Son of Flicka

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Flicka!

Flicka!

Flicka. Where are you?

There you are. What are you doing out here?

Don't you know there's a storm coming up?

You should be back at the barn.

What's the matter, Flicka?

Don't you know me? It's Ken.

Come on, girl. Come on.

A colt! Flicka, you've had your colt.

But it's white. Itjust can't be white.

Oh, I'm sorry, Flicka. I didn't mean it.

It's a beautiful colt. Honest it is.

Hello, fella.

Come on. Come on.

Oh, I'm not going to hurt you.

Come on. Here.

I'd better get both of you out of here

before this storm breaks.

Ho, girl.

Come on, fella.

He'll follow, Flicka.

Come on, boy. Hurry up.

Hey, come on.

All right. If you want to be so stubborn.

Come on. Come on, that's it.

Come on. Hurry up.

Attaboy.

Come on.

Come on. Oh, you're not even trying to help.

Come on.

Come on, go up.

Flicka, you go down and stay with him.

I'll be right back. Go on.

Go on.

Dad!

Dad!

Your father and mother

ain't come home from town yet.

- Gus!

- Ja?

- Gus.

- What's the matter, Kenny?

- Flicka's had her colt.

- Good.

No, it isn't. She's in the gorge near the lake

and the colt's stuck in the wash.

Why didn't you say so?

Come on, we'll saddle a couple of horses.

If we don't go before the storm,

anything can happen.

Don't worry. They've been

borning colts on the range long time now.

- Here. Put this on.

- I haven't got time.

Take time. Your father skin me good

if you catch pneumonia again.

- I'm not gonna catch anything.

- Listen.

- Rain.

- Ja.

That gully will be a river.

The colt will drown. Come on.

They're over here, Gus.

We're coming, Flicka.

It's all right, Flicka. We'll get him out.

- A white one.

- Just don't stand there. Come on.

Wait, Kenny.

Mind out, Gus. You'll choke him. I'll help you.

Come on. Come on, here.

Ain't never saw such a stubborn little devil.

He's not stubborn.

He's just scared and high-spirited.

- That's the way.

- Go on, Flicka.

Go on.

Gus!

- How is he, Gus? How's my colt?

- He's over there.

Morning, Kenny.

Morning. Hi, sonny.

- Little fella had a pretty hard night.

- He's beautiful, isn't he?

I wouldn't go so far to say that.

But your father will like him, I bet.

He's got to. So I'll be able to train him,

and enter him in the races myself.

Races? Do you think

maybe the little fellow can run?

Sure he can run. He'll be

the greatest racehorse in the world.

I'll enter him at Santa Anita,

Hialeah and the Kentucky Derby.

- I bet he wins every one of them.

- Got it all figured out, ain't ya?

I hope you're right.

We could use some good luck around here.

- Ken!

- That sounds like my Hildy.

Ken!

- Your breakfast is ready.

- Thank you.

You're welcome.

Gus.

- Gus, did you tell Dad about the colt?

- Why, no, Kenny. You asked me not to.

Thanks, Gus.

Why don't you want anyone to know?

Because, Hildy, it's a very special colt,

and I want to surprise Dad.

- Well, I won't tell him, Ken.

- Good.

Oh, Ken.

- Are you gonna surprise your dad now?

- Shh!

Hildy, can't you ever

mind your own business?

Oh, I can. But it isn't much fun.

Saddle Buck, Tim. Then we'll go.

- Dad.

- Good morning, young fella.

Good morning.

- Going in to breakfast?

- Yes.

Dad, what would you do

if you had all the money you wanted?

- All the money I want?

- All you want.

Well, now, let's see.

I guess I'd take your mother to New York

and buy her a fur coat and a diamond ring.

Women like pretty things, you know.

Then we'd take a cruise to South America,

- see what kind of horses they have there.

- Go on. Then what would you do?

Well, if you really want to know,

I'd buy some more brood mares.

I'd build fences around the place,

fix it up like I had planned.

Make it the finest ranch in the West.

Say, what's this all about, anyway?

I've got an idea

that's going to make us a lot of money.

You have? Well, fine.

That's Charley Sargent.

- Hello, Charley. How are you?

- How are you, Rob?

Fine.

- Hello, Major.

- Glad to see you, McLaughlin.

- Hello, young man.

- Come in. Come in.

How's the road? Storm do much damage?

- Only got stuck once.

- Morning, Charley.

- Major Harris. Glad to see you.

- Thank you.

- What are you doing here?

- I'm on a buying tour.

- I came to see if you had any horses to sell.

- You got the cream of the crop last time.

- Won't you join us for breakfast?

- No, thanks.

- Wouldn't think of it.

- Not much!

Charley can smell home cooking

20 miles away.

- You're not fooling.

- Come on.

Ken, bring down that chair.

Major, will you sit there?

- And Charley there, please?

- Thank you.

- Rob, will you pour the orange juice?

- Glasses, Ken.

McLaughlin, your horses

were the talk of the fort.

They ought to be. Whoever heard of selling

hunters and polo ponies for $200 a head?

- Standard army prices.

- I wouldn't have taken a loss like that.

But then, I'm not an old West Point man.

You're sore because your racers

aren't good enough for the army.

I'll have you know I've got the finest horses

this side of the Mississippi.

- Now, take Appalachian, for instance.

- Not Appalachian again.

And why not? There's 60 generations

of racers behind him.

- And every one of his colts is a winner.

- That's why I like you. You're so modest.

My horse is the greatest stallion

in the country.

- Greater than the Albino?

- The Albino? Well...

- Now, there was a horse.

- Who did he belong to?

Nobody. He drifted over here from Montana.

Drove the ranchers crazy.

He was wild - wild as they come.

Most beautiful stallion I ever saw.

They never found out where he lived.

But every summer for five or six years,

he used to come out of the hills and raid our

herds while they were grazing in the pastures.

He'd drive off as many mares

as he could round up.

The ranchers'losses

were getting pretty heavy.

He was very particular, too.

He selected only the best mares.

Any stallion that tried to stop him

was in for a fight.

He killed several of the finest horses

in this country.

He was a robber baron

if there ever was one. King of them all.

We were all hunting for him. Could never

get close enough to lay a rope on him.

- Whatever became of him?

- Hasn't been seen for four or five years.

He sounds more like a legend

than a real horse.

He was real enough.

He got into Rob's herd once.

Ken's mare Flicka was sired by him.

Mrs McLaughlin.

Here are the eggs you wanted.

- Thank you.

- You're welcome.

- Ken. Do they know about the surprise yet?

- Hildy, I told you.

- I didn't say anything about the colt.

- Colt? What colt?

- I wanted to tell you. Flicka's had a foal.

- She has?

- Oh, wonderful.

- It's at the barn.

- Let's go see it.

- Come along.

- It'll be a colt Mr Sargent could be proud of.

- I'll get him out so you can have a good look.

Gus! Gus.

Help me get the colt out.

Dad wants to see him.

You stay back, Hildy.

This colt'll either be black or sorrel.

It's by Banner, and he always sires true.

Sounds as if Ken's having a little trouble.

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