True Grit Page #7

Well, we'll sleep here.

Follow in the morning.

We promised to bury the poor soul inside.

Ground's too hard.

That men wanted a decent burial,

he should have got themselves killed in summer.

Sleep well, Little Blackie.

I have a notion that tomorrow we will

reach our object.

We're hot on the trail.

It seems that we will overtake Tom

Chaney in the Winding Stair Mountain.

I would not want to be in his shoes.

Chelmsford, as he called himself in Texas.

Shot the Senator's dog.

When the Senator remonstrated.

Chelmsford shot him as well.

Now you could argue that the shooting of

the dog was clearly an instance of malum prohibitum.

But the shooting of the Senator is indubitably

an instance of malum in se.

Malla-men what?

Neither of them safe.

The distinction is between an

act that is wrong in itself.

And an act that is wrong according

to our laws and mores.

It is Latin.

I'm struck,

that La Boeuf.

I've been shot, trampled and nearly

severs his tongue.

Not only does he not cease to talk.

But spills the banks of English.

I was within three hundred yards of

Chelmsford once.

The closest I have been.

With a Sharp's carbine that is within range.

But I was mounted,

and had the choice of firing off-hand.

or dismounting to shoot from rest,

which would allow Chelmsford to augment the distance.

I fired mounted -

and fired wide.

You cannot hit a man three hundred yards

if your gun was resting on Gibraltar

The Sharp's carbine is an instrument of

uncanny balance and precision.

I've no doubt that the gun is sound.

(Sings "Greer County")

#My clothes are all ragged and my language is rough.#

#My bread is corn dodgers,

both solid and tough#

#And yet I'm happy, and live at my ease#

#On sorghum molasses, and bacon, and cheese#

Greer county bantler.

I do not believe he slept.

Fort Smith is a healthy distance, La Boeuf

but I would encourage the creature you ride

to head southward.

Out here a

one-armed man looks like easy prey

And a one eyed man who can't shoot.

Why don't you turn back, Cogburn?

I'll do fine.

I know where the Parmalee's claim is. I am uninjured,

well provisioned, and we agreed to separate.

In confidence you cannot shy our agreement.

You're the one that shot me.

Mr La Boeuf has a point, Marshal.

It is an unfair leg-up in

any competition to shoot your opposite number

God damn it. I do not accept as

a given that I did shoot La Boeuf.

There was plenty of guns going off.

I heard the rifle, and I felt the ball.

You missed your shot, Cogburn, admit it.

Missed my shot!

You are more handicapped without the eye,

then I without the arm.

I can hit a gnat's eye at ninety yards.

That chinaman is running them cheap shells on me again.

I thought you were going to say,

the sun was in your eyes.

That is to say, "your eye".

Two at one time.

I will to chuck one high.

Hold fire.

- There.

- There!?

- My bullet.

- Your bullet?

If you hit what you aim at,

explain my shoulder.

Gentlemen, shooting cornbread out here the prairie

is getting us no closer to the Ned Pepper gang.

One more. This will prove it.

Please hold fire.

Find our way back!

Lucky Ned?

LuckyY Ned!

Very good, Cogburn.

Now what?

Oh, god damn it.

Cogburn does not want me eating out of his store.

That is silly. You have not eaten the whole day,

and it is my store not his.

Let him starve!

He does not track!

He does not shoot.

except at foodstuffs!

That was is your initiative?

He does not contribute!

He is a man who walks in front of bullets!

Mr La Boeuf drew single handed

upon the Lucky Ned Pepper gang.

while we fired safely from cover.

- We?

- It is unfair to indict a man,

when his jaw is swollen, and tongue mangled

and is therefore unable to rise to his defense.

I can speak for myself.

I am hardly obliged to answer the

ravings of a drunkard. It is beneath me

I shall make my own camp.

Elsewhere.

It is you who

have nothing to offer, Cogbur

A sad picture indeed.

This is no longer a man hunt.

It is a debauch.

The Texas Ranger,

presses on, alone.

Take the girl.

I bow out.

A fine thing to decide once you brought her

into the middle of the Choctaw Nation.

I bow out, I wash my hands.

Gentlemen we cannot fall out in this fashion.

Not so close to our goal, with

Tom Chaney nearly in hand.

In hand?

If he is not in a shallow grave, somewhere

between here and Fort Smith, he is gone

He is gone.

Long gone!

Thanks to Mr La Boeuf, we missed our shot!

We barked, and the birds have flown!

Gone, gone, gone.

Lucky Ned and his cohort, gone!

Your $50, gone!

Gone with whiskey.

seized in evidence!.

The trail is cold, if ever there was one!

I'm....I'm a foolish old man who's been

drawn into a wild goose chase.

by a harpy in trousers,

and a nincompoop.

Well, Mr La Boeuf.

He can wander the Choctaw Nation

for as long as he likes;

perhaps the local Injuns will take him in.

and honor his gibberings by making him Chief!

You, sister, may go where you like!

Our engagement is terminated.

I bow out.

I'm going with you.

Oh, that is not possible.

Have I held you back?

I have a Colt's Dragoon revolver

which I know how to use,

And I will be no more a burden to you,

as I was to the Marshal.

That's not my worry.

You've earned your spurs.

That is clear now.

You've been a regular

old hand on the trail.

But Cogburn's right.

even if I would not give him the

satisfaction of conceding it.

The trail is cold.

And I am,

considerably diminished.

How can you give up now. After the many months

you've dedicated to finding Chaney?

You have shown great determination.

I misjudged you.

I picked the wrong man.

I would go on with your company,

if there were a clear way to go.

But we'd be striking out blindly.

Chelmsford's gone.

we have chased him right off the map

There's nothing for him.

I'm bound for Texas.

Time for you to go home, too.

The Marshal, when he sobers.

is your way back.

I will not go back. Not without Chaney,

dead or alive.

I misjudged you as well.

I extend my hand.

Mr La Boeuf, please!

Adios.

I know you.

Your name is Mattie.

You're little Mattie, the bookkeeper.

Isn't that something?

Yes, and I know you, Tom Chaney.

What you doing out here?

Come to fetch some water.

No, what are you doing in these mountains, here?

While I've not been formerly deputized,

but I'm acting as an agent for,

Marshal Rooster Cogburn

and Judge Parker's court.

I have come to take you back to Fort Smith.

Well, I will not go.

How do you like that?

There's a posse of officers up there

who will force you to go.

That is interesting news.

And how many is up there?

Right around fifty.

They're all well armed and they mean business.

What I want you to do now is to come on across

the creek and walk in front of me up the hill.

I think I'll oblige the officers to

come after me.

Well if you refuse to go, then

I'll have to shoot you.

Oh.

Well you'd better cock your piece.

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