Tracker Page #3

Mr. Silence?

You say another word...

I'll hang you myself

from that bloody tree

over there. You follow?

Oh, you lie as well.

Huh?

Jezus Christus

Allemachtig!

You lie just by

saying nothing.

In fact,

everything you don't say

is one big lie.

What in God's name

are you talking about?

Well, that's the second

question you've ever asked me.

You going to answer it?

Well, you just said you'll hang me

if I said another word.

Argh!

Come, you, come.

Walk.

Your wife...

she died in that war,

didn't she?

It's none

of your concern.

- She did, didn't she?

- It's none of your concern.

I was just asking.

Why do you...?

No.

I just...

She never died

in no bloody war.

But I thought

you said...

I don't know how

she died, all right?

All right.

When the sporting British

couldn't beat us,

Lord Kitchener

sent his troops down

to burn our farms.

He drove our women

and children off

like cattle.

He penned them

in these

barbed-wire camps.

I don't know

how they died...

sickness, starvation.

There's no one left

to tell.

Listen, we both

hate the British.

I don't hate the British.

- Yes, you do.

- I don't hate the British.

I hated my God

for a time.

I stood naked

in front of Him.

I reviled Him.

I was so angry.

I thought

I knew Him.

Then I remembered

that God did not create

the savage in me.

"Though He slay me,

yet will I trust

in Him."

"But I will maintain

my own ways before Him."

Mm.

I still think

you hate the British.

You think you can get me

to set you free?

- Well, I don't know.

- You think

that if you could make

you and me the same,

that would make me

set you free?

I fought for something.

You're just

a bloody criminal.

I'm not a criminal.

You're walking

on my land.

My tupunas named

the mountains and the rivers.

It's my lineage.

And I saved your life,

bushpig.

It's about respect.

Let me tell you

about respect.

During the war

me and my men...

we would cut off

the trigger fingers

of the bravest British

officers we captured...

only the bravest

officers, mind,

the ones most worthy

of respect.

You understand that?

That's what I did

to people I respected.

Doesn't leave much hope

for me then, does it?

Hope kills fools like you

every day.

Sergeant, let's send

Corporal Crowther

back to base

for fresh provisions.

This is taking a damn sight longer

than I'd hoped.

Yes, sir.

You'd better show Crowther

where you think we'll be this evening,

'cause I don't

bloody know.

It'll just be

a rough guess, Major.

Yes, I'm sure it will,

Mr. Bryce.

Do you think

he's got him, sir...

that Van Diemen?

Without a doubt.

Are the stories they

tell about him true...

you know,

butchering our men?

Well, let me put it

this way, Private...

if it weren't

for the reward,

we'd probably be spared the trouble

of executing him.

I reckon that'd

serve him right, sir.

Drake was a good man.

Drake was a trousered

ape, Private,

a disgrace to his uniform

and his rank.

Begging your

pardon, sir,

but he didn't deserve

to die the way he did.

No, you're quite right.

Indeed he didn't.

You haven't seen action yet,

have you, Private?

No, sir, not as such.

Not yet.

I hope to, sir.

A word of caution:

Just be sure

that when your children

ask you what you did...

what you did

in defense of the realm,

that you're able to give

them a worthy answer.

I beg your pardon, sir?

If he's still alive,

he'll be given a fair trial.

If he's guilty,

he'll be hanged.

An example

will be made.

Te Ara Ruamano.

The path of Ruamano.

He's like our

spiritual guardian.

And he's known to save those

of his people in danger.

What?

This... you pakeha call it

Telson's Gorge.

Let me look.

Look, you can draw your gun

and shoot me.

Don't doubt it.

I will shoot you.

That bullet will cost you

Nice.

North, south,

east.

Oops.

Damn you.

Come.

Come come come.

No no, I don't care much

for that idea.

- I will let you go.

- Let go.

I'll let you go.

Go ahead, let go.

I swear I'll shoot you.

Well, you can try.

But to get your gun,

you're gonna have to let go

of this rope with one hand.

I'll break your bloody neck

if you jump.

Or you could

fall in with me.

And with that pack,

the rifle

and your fat puku,

you could sink and drown.

I'll shoot you

as you fall.

You might miss.

And I might drown.

Ruamano might save me.

But we won't know,

will we,

until you let go?

You wish to fight me?

Come. Come.

Get up.

Get up.

I'm innocent.

I'm innocent.

What's the matter

with you, eh?

I'm just trying

to uphold the law.

You're a liar.

It's got nothing to do

with the law.

It's for money.

You've sold your soul.

You know they're

going to hang me

for something

I didn't even do.

There were witnesses.

Yes, soldiers.

And a woman.

She's a pakeha woman

and I'm a Maori.

It was soldiers

who did it.

And it was soldiers

who hung my father.

They made me watch.

Then they forced

my head around

and made me watch them

hang my grandfather.

If you kill me,

you will condemn yourself.

They will find you,

no matter how long,

how many years...

What's a few years

worth, eh? Eh?

What's it worth

to a condemned man?

Eh? Argh!

Do it. Do it.

Do it!

You can't kill me.

You can't do it.

Are you all right?

I'm quite well,

Mr. Bryce.

Thank you.

You bloody little Maori.

- That's enough.

- No.

That's enough, Mr. Bryce,

unless you plan to carry

him back to town.

Sergeant, tie him up.

Renwick, get the rope

and tie him up.

Well, Mr. Van Diemen,

you've obviously endured

- a tough couple of days.

- Yeah, Major.

You needn't fret, sir.

Admirable, most admirable.

Come on, get up.

Get up, you bloody savage.

Renwick, give us a hand.

Get up, your murdering

bastard, you.

Major, with your permission,

if you tie his hands in front of him,

it'd help him walk

easier and quicker.

All right. Sergeant, do as

Mr. Van Diemen suggested.

Sir.

Renwick.

I didn't expect to see you

until our return, Sergeant Major,

Well, sir,

Corporal Crowther said

your orders were for me to bring

supplies with due haste, sir.

I'm sure the corporal

said no such thing.

Well, now you're here,

you'd better get about it, I supposed.

Just remember,

Sergeant Major,

this is not a vendetta.

Yes, thank you, Saunders.

All right, Sergeant Major.

Tough bastards,

aren't they?

My family fought

against them

in the land wars

Good fighters,

clever as the weasels.

You face them doing

one of those godless

war-jigs of theirs,

their haka,

screaming like a pack

of wild dogs,

mate, you know

you're in trouble then.

Fierce.

And the women are worse.

Excuse me.

I should know.

I married one.

Some meat.

Thank you.

Where's he going?

Feeding our meat

to a murderer.

What, is he

comforting him?

Feeding the savage.

- Thanks.

- Mm?

For this.

You must have been

quite a soldier.

I was never a soldier.

More like...

we were a small rabble.

We stopped the British,

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