The Searchers

AARON: Now, Ethan, I ain't sure...

ETHAN: Don't argue!...And stay close... Maybe they're rustlers...and maybe this dodderin' old idiot ain't so far wrong...

ETHAN: You askin' me to clear out now?

AARON: You're my brother...You're welcome to stay as long as you got a mind to...Ain't that so, Martha?

ETHAN: Passed the Todd place comin' in... What happened to 'em?

AARON: They gave up...went back to the cotton rows...So'd the Jamisons... Without Martha, I don't know...She wouldn't let a man quit.

AARON: It was Ethan found you squallin' in a sage clump after your folks was massacred...

ETHAN: It just happened to be me...No need to make any more of it...

AARON: How's California?

ETHAN: How should I know?

AARON: But Mose Harper said...

ETHAN: That old goat still creakin' around?...Whyn't someone bury him?

BEN: It's all right, ma...I been watchin'... Only I wish...

MARTHA: What, Ben?

BEN: I wish Uncle Ethan was here. Don't you, ma?

MARTHA: Not tonight...Ben, put that sword back.

BEN: It's not a sword, ma...It's a sabre! Did you kill many damYankees with this sabre, Uncle Ethan?

MARTHA: Lucy's going on seventeen now...

BEN: An' she's got a beau! Kisses him, too!

MARTHA: That's enough...Go on inside and help Lucy set the table...You, too, Deborah!

ETHAN: What you saw wasn't Lucy.

BRAD: It was, I tell you!

ETHAN: What you saw was a buck wearin' Lucy's dress... I found Lucy back there in that canyon...I wrapped her in my blanket an' buried her with m'own hands...I thought it best to keep it from you -- long as I could.

BRAD: Why'd they break off? Was there water in that canyon?

ETHAN: Huh...? No...no water.

BRAD: You've said that enough!...Maybe Lucy's dead...maybe they're both dead...but if I hear it from you again, I'll fight ya, Mr. Edwards!

ETHAN: That'll be the day!...Let's ride.

BRAD: They got to stop sometime...if they're human at all, they got to stop!

ETHAN: Naw...a human man rides a horse till it dies...then he goes on afoot...A Comanche comes along...gets that horse up...and rides it twenty more miles...Then he eats it.

BRAD: Let's get along...

ETHAN: Why don't you finish the job?

BRAD: Killed every one -- an' not for food either...Why'd they do a thing like that?

ETHAN: Stealing the cattle was just to pull us out...This here's a murder raid... It shapes up to scald out either your place...or my brother's.

MARTIN: It's all right...Charlie, let's move outside.

CHARLIE: I ain't wearing no gun.

MARTIN: Charlie MacCorry!...You weren't fixin' to marry HIM??

CHARLIE: She sure is!...An' don't think your comin' back is goin' to change it!

MARTIN: As to that, I don't know, Charlie... We hadn't got around to talkin' marriage...

CHARLIE: What right you got to be talkin' marriage to any decent woman...

MARTIN: If you're talkin' about that crazy murder charge...

CHARLIE: AND other things...Mebbe you thought you was gettin' away with being comical about that Indian wife you took...I bet she wasn't the first squaw you...

CLAYTON: Ethan, you an' Martin are hereby appointed civilian scouts -- without pay...Charlie, hightail it to head- quarters an' spread the word...

CHARLIE: Yes sir...

CHARLIE: You're goin' if the captain says you're goin'...

CLAYTON: Now, now...let's not grow dis- putatious...

CLAYTON: You all right, sergeant?

CHARLIE: Dunno...Seems so.

CLAYTON: Well, go get cleaned up and we'll proceed with the weddin'...

CLAYTON: Is this in the line of duty, sergeant?

CHARLIE: No sir...pleasure.

CLAYTON: In that case, give the boys room...

CLAYTON: Another one, eh?

CHARLIE: This 'un come a long way 'fore he died.

CLAYTON: Well, that's seven we can score up to your brother, Ethan.

ETHAN: I say NO!

CLAYTON: Go ahead, son...But at the first alarm, we're comin' in -- and we ain't goin' to have time to pick and choose our targets when we do...

ETHAN: I didn't want to tell you...but maybe it's your right to know.

CLAYTON: Now mount up, son...

CLAYTON: Now son, it's a bitter thing to say, but there's more than your sister at stake here.

ETHAN: There sure is! I'm going to tell you somethin'...I wasn't going to speak of it...But I'll tell you now. Did you notice them scalps strung on Scar's lance? Did you see the third scalp from the point of the lance? Long... wavy hair...

ETHAN: We can get within 500 yards...there's a hogback to the south.

CLAYTON: How many, would you say?

ETHAN: Enough to go around...I'd say about a dozen apiece...Mount 'em up!

CLAYTON: I got to ask you and Martin to ride to the State Capitol with me, Ethan.

ETHAN: This an invite to a necktie party, Reverend?

CLAYTON: Captain...Nope, wouldn't say that... Likely you had your reasons for killin' Futterman...Probably needed killin'...I'm speaking as a ranger now, not as a reverend...Fact that all three was shot in the back is the only thing that's raised some question -- that and a missin' gold piece known to have been on him just prior to his demise.

CLAYTON: Fight fair, son...Use your fists!

ETHAN: Comanches don't use their fists, reverend...Let 'em alone...

ETHAN: Evenin'...evenin' Reverend...or do I call you 'Captain'...?

CLAYTON: Came here for a wedding, Ethan... Until that's over, I reckon 'reverend' will do...

CLAYTON: I didn't give any order to fire!

ETHAN: That's all right, Captain...I don't need any formal invitation to kill a Comanch...

CLAYTON: You got one now!

ETHAN: If you were tryin' to surround 'em, you sure succeeded.

CLAYTON: How far's the river from here, Mose?

ETHAN: You got any more orders, Captain?

CLAYTON: Just keep goin'...

ETHAN: What do you know about it?...What's a quarter-breed Cherokee know about the Comanche trick of sleeping with his best pony tied right beside him...You got as much chance of stampedin' their herd as...

CLAYTON: ...as you have of findin' those girls alive by ridin' into 'em... I say we do it my way, Ethan...and that's an order!

ETHAN: Yes, sir...But if you're wrong, Captain Clayton, don't ever give me another!

ETHAN: It's what we're here for, ain't it?

CLAYTON: I thought we were trying to get the girls back -- alive...We jump those Comanches, they'll kill 'em...You know that!

ETHAN: They're camped by the river -- 'bout twenty miles from here. Soon's it gets dark we'll circle out so's to jump 'em before day- break.

CLAYTON: You're right sure you want to jump 'em, Ethan?

CLAYTON: What good does that do?

ETHAN: By what you preach...none!

CLAYTON: He cometh forth like a...

ETHAN: Amen!...Put an 'amen' to it!

CLAYTON: ...like a flower and is cut down... Amen!

ETHAN: You askin' as a Reverend or a Captain, Sam?

CLAYTON: I'm askin' as a Ranger of the sovereign state of Texas.

ETHAN: Got a warrant?

CLAYTON: You fit a lot of descriptions.

ETHAN: I figger a man's only good for one oath at a time...I took mine to the Confederate States of America... So did you, Reverend...

ETHAN: You can forget that... Wouldn't be legal anyway.

CLAYTON: Why? You wanted for a crime, Ethan?

ETHAN: You ain't goin'...

CLAYTON: He sure is goin'...He's sworn in.

ETHAN: Well, swear him out again!...I'll go with you.

CLAYTON: Haven't seen you since the surrender. Come to think of it, I didn't see you at the surrender.

ETHAN: I don't believe in surrenderin'...I still got my sabre, Reverend...never turned it into any ploughshare neither!

GREENHILL: If there's anything I can do, sir...

CLAYTON: God forbid...No, son, you flog on back and tell your pa where we're at...and where he's at...

GREENHILL: But he knows THAT, sir...Can't I stay, sir?

CLAYTON: All right...But keep your eye on me, boy...I'm the hard case you're up against here -- not these childish savages...If you don't hear me first time I holler, you better read my mind...I don't aim to raise no two hollers on any subject at hand...

GREENHILL: Yes, sir...

CLAYTON: Go on! Whyn't you have your bugler sound the charge while you're at it??

GREENHILL: Sir?

CLAYTON: Never mind...Your pa know you're out here?

GREENHILL: Yes, sir...Troop's about ten miles back...The Colonel sent me looking for you...

CLAYTON: Well you found me...Good work, son...Good work.

CLAYTON: What in...?

GREENHILL: Captain Clayton...Captain!

CLAYTON: You tell your pa a company of Rangers -- all fourteen of 'em -- fully armed an' equipped will be in the field by daylight...headin' for the south end of the Malapai. If he can catch up with us, well an' good...

LIEUTENANT: But...but captain, we can't possibly take the field tomorrow...for your own protection...

CLAYTON: Sonny, yonder's a passel of murderers, complete with Texican scalps an' white girl captive...You want to protect us, you just get out of our way...Now skedaddle!

CLAYTON: And what makes you think he's in this territory?

LIEUTENANT: Yesterday, one of our patrols picked up a man claims he was a prisoner with Scar till only two days ago... He talks crazy but I brought him along...Says he lives here...keeps mentioning a rocking chair.

LIEUTENANT: Colonel Greenhill's compliments, sir. The Colonel wishes to know how soon you could put a company of Rangers in the field, fully armed and...

CLAYTON: Hold on, son...Who's this Colonel Greenhill you're talking about?

LIEUTENANT: Why Colonel Greenhill is Colonel Greenhill, sir...Commanding Officer, Fifth U.S. Cavalry...I'm Lieutenant Greenhill, sir.

CLAYTON: Oh...Now what's this your pa wants to know?

LIEUTENANT: My pa wants to know...Colonel Greenhill wants to know how soon you could put a company of your Rangers in the field, fully armed and equipped, for joint punitive action against the Comanches.

CLAYTON: JOINT action?

LIEUTENANT: Yes sir...We've received information about a band of Comanches under a chief named Scar...

LIEUTENANT: Is Captain Clayton here, Reverend?

CLAYTON: I'm Clayton.

MARTIN: No Debbie! That ain't what happened! They been lyin' to you...

DEBBIE: You lie! All white men lie...and kill...

MARTIN: Debbie, think back! I'm Martin... remember? Remember how I used to let you ride my horse? Tell you stories? Don't you remember me, Debbie?

DEBBIE: I remember...from always...At first I prayed to you...come and get me... Take me home...You didn't come...

MARTIN: I've come now...

DEBBIE: These are my people... Unnt-meah! Go! Go! Please!

MARTIN: I don't care what they've done to you...what happened...

DEBBIE: They have done...nothing...They are my people...

DEBBIE: Unnt-meah!

MARTIN: We ain't goin'! We ain't goin' without you, Debbie...Ethan, get the horses...I'll try to keep her talkin'...

DEBBIE: Martin! Ride me as far as the well!

MARTIN: Grab hold!...

ETHAN: Mose...try to remember!...You were in Scar's camp...

MOSE: Ay-eh...Made out I was crazy... Ate dirt...chewed grass...I fooled 'em, Ethan!...an' I got away...

ETHAN: Scar! Where's he holed in?

MOSE: Seven Fingers...ay-eh...Seven...

MOSE: Come f'r my rockin' chai'...ole Mose.

ETHAN: Where's Scar, Mose...SCAR?

ETHAN: Well, the reward still stands...

MOSE: Don't want no money, Ethan...jus' a place -- a roof over m' head...a little grub...a bunk to sleep in... an' a rockin' chair by the fire... my own rockin' chair by a fire...

ETHAN: You help me find her, you got your rockin' chair...

MOSE: Swear it, Ethan?...Given word?

ETHAN: Told ya, didn't I?

MOSE: Ethan...I found a man's seen her... knows where little Debbie is!

ETHAN: Leggo my arm...You look mangier 'n ever.

MOSE: Ain't been too good...No sir, not too good...Gettin' old, Ethan...

ETHAN: You were born old...

ETHAN: Steady, Daniel Boone! You don't want to miss...It makes them think their medicine's stronger than yours...

MOSE: Ay-eh...That's jest what I tole Joe Powers...That un's gettin' kinda sassy, ain't he, Ethan?

MOSE: Ay-eh...They was here...

ETHAN: SURE!...They WERE here...Now they're out there...an' waitin' to jump us!...

FUTTERMAN: Don't forget to come back with my thousand dollars.

ETHAN: Ain't yours yet.

ETHAN: Talk!

FUTTERMAN: A young buck fetched it in late last summer... Said it belonged to a captive chile of Chief Scar...

ETHAN: Scar? Never heard of any Chief Scar.

FUTTERMAN: Me neither...But this buck claimed he was a big war chief with the Nawyecky Comanches.

ETHAN: Keep talking.

FUTTERMAN: Scar's band was headin' north...to winter in at Fort Wingate...eatin' agency beef. That's what this buck said...Maybe he lied.

ETHAN: And maybe you lie...

FUTTERMAN: In that case you won't find her -- and I won't get my thousand dollars.

ETHAN: How'd you come by this?

FUTTERMAN: You said there'd be a thousand dollar reward.

ETHAN: That's what I said.

FUTTERMAN: You got it with you?

ETHAN: Are you sure they didn't die of carbine shots fired by a bunch o' Yank bluebellies so scared they couldn't tell the difference between a Cheyenne and a Comanche?

GENERAL: Keefer!..Put this man under arrest!

ETHAN: That'll be the day... 'As we developed the village'... Next time you develop a village, hit it where the fightin' men are... You won't get any headlines for killin' squaws.

ETHAN: My name's Edwards...I'm looking for my niece...she was in that camp when you attacked...

GENERAL: Well...I know there were some captives recovered...

GENERAL: Sir -- we charged!..Gentlemen -- and I hope you will quote me -- I cannot say too much for the courage of the men who followed me into that Cheyenne camp...

ETHAN: Cheyenne! What Cheyenne?

GENERAL: I beg your pardon?

ETHAN: That camp you hit was Nawyecka Comanche...Chief Scar's bunch...

MARTIN: I saw it...And don't try to tell me it was Aunt Martha's or Lucy's...

ETHAN: You don't remember it, but I remember. That was your mother's scalp!

MARTIN: I know you are...Only it ain't goin' to be that way...she's alive...

ETHAN: Livin' with Comanches ain't bein' alive...

MARTIN: She's alive...Better she's alive and livin' with Comanches than her brains bashed out...

MARTIN: Wait! We go chargin' in, they'll kill her...and you know it.

ETHAN: It's what I'm countin' on.

ETHAN: What's that got to do with us?

MARTIN: What's goin' on?

MARTIN: 'I, Ethan Edwards, being of sound mind and without any blood kin, do hereby bequeath all my property of any kind to Martin Pauley...' I don't want your property.... 'Sides, what do you mean no 'blood kin?' Debbie's your blood kin...

ETHAN: Not no more.

MARTIN: You can keep your will! I ain't forgettin' you was all set to shoot her yourself...What kind o' man are you, anyway.

ETHAN: She's been with the bucks! She's nothin' now but a...

ETHAN: They'll be back...

MARTIN: We won't be here...Come on!

ETHAN: Go on! Get out of here while you can...

MARTIN: Over there!

ETHAN: How? She's even forgot her own language!

MARTIN: Debbie, you're comin' with us! Hear me?

MARTIN: You figger Scar means to kill us?

ETHAN: He's got to...All these years, run- nin', dodgin', knowin' we were after him...Now we caught up...It's him or us.

MARTIN: Why didn't he make his move back there?

ETHAN: I don't know...Somethin' tied his hands...maybe hospitality...

ETHAN: Stay out here.

MARTIN: Not likely.

ETHAN: Suit yourself...While you're enjoyin' your little conversation, I'll be ridin' out with Senor Fernandez here... The Comanch' medicine country ain't far...there's one camp with a chief named Cicatriz.

MARTIN: Never heard of him...

ETHAN: Cicatriz is Mex for Scar...an' he has a white girl in his tepee...Be seein' you...

MARTIN: Lemme alone...

ETHAN: You breeds are all alike -- two drinks an'...

MARTIN: No...She's not...

ETHAN: I ain't sure...Where's that doll?

ETHAN: Well, you're a widower now...

MARTIN: What'd the soldiers have to kill her for!..

ETHAN: Least, THEY won't feed any Comanches this winter...Killin' buffalo's as good as killin' Injuns in this country.

MARTIN: Peaceful tribes depend on the buffalo, too....

ETHAN: Ain't that too bad...If you feel that sorry for your kinfolk, I'm surprised you didn't take up with that squaw wife of yours...

MARTIN: Ethan, quit it!

ETHAN: Nine... Ten!

MARTIN: What's the sense in it!

MARTIN: I think maybe we oughta...

ETHAN: Yeah, I kinda figgered you'd say that...Bein' a new husband and all...

MARTIN: Beats me how she could get that pony out o' camp without neither of us hearin' a thing...

ETHAN: She ain't goin' back to her family, that's certain...not if she took off where the arrow points.

MARTIN: Think she means for us to follow?

ETHAN: How should I know...She's YOUR wife!

ETHAN: You ask her!

MARTIN: Look! Scar?... Do you know where he went? And if he has a girl with him...a white girl -- nai-bist pabo taibo...

ETHAN: Says her name's Wild Goose Flying in the Night Sky...but she'll answer to Look since it pleases ya...

MARTIN: Look?

ETHAN: That's the way to train 'em. Looks like Mrs. Pauley's goin' to make you a fine beautiful wife...

MARTIN: Cut it out, will ya...

ETHAN: YOU don't understand, ya chunkhead! You didn't buy any blanket! Ya bought her!

MARTIN: What?

ETHAN: You got yourself a wife, sonny!

MARTIN: Oh no! Tell her she's got to go back...

ETHAN: And have her whole family after our scalps for floutin' one o' their women?...No sir! Come on, Mrs. Pauley...

ETHAN: What I heard back there was that a band o' hostile Nawyeckas came through this way less'n two weeks ago...

MARTIN: Think it might be...?

ETHAN: When are you goin' to learn to keep your mouth shut! Come on. Let's get out of here.

MARTIN: But I just bought a good blanket.

ETHAN: Forget it...

ETHAN: Let's go...I think I stumbled onto somethin'...

MARTIN: Scar?

MARTIN: Futterman?

ETHAN: He just couldn't wait...

MARTIN: Whatchu doin'?...

ETHAN: Sorta like 'roundabout' -- like a man says he's goin' one place when he means to go just the reverse...

MARTIN: Oh...

ETHAN: You all settled an' comfortable now?

ETHAN: Not so funny...if you recollect what 'Nawyecka' means...

MARTIN: What's that?

MARTIN: Hey! What's the idea...?

ETHAN: Maybe I'm gettin' like Mose Harper -- my bones is cold tonight...

ETHAN: Martin...I want you to know some- thin'...

MARTIN: Yeah...you want me to know I ain't got no kin -- no money -- no horses -- nothing but a dead man's clothes to wear!..You tole me that already... Now shut your head!

ETHAN: Good night.

ETHAN: He's agreed to take you on and share the increase from my herd while I'm gone...I'll be pushin' on tomorrow...

MARTIN: I ain't stayin'...I set out lookin' for Debbie...I aim to keep on...

ETHAN: Why?

MARTIN: Because she's my...my...

ETHAN: She's your nothin'...She's no kin to you at all!

MARTIN: I always felt like she was...Her folks takin' me in, raisin' me like one of their own...

ETHAN: That don't make 'em kin...

MARTIN: All right...I ain't got no kin... I'm goin' to keep lookin' that's all.

ETHAN: How? You got any horses, or money to buy 'em...You ain't even got money to buy cartridges...Jorgensen's offering you a good livin' here...

ETHAN: Jorgensen's been runnin' his cattle with my own...

MARTIN: YOUR cattle?...DEBBIE'S cattle!

MARTIN: Good night...Laurie...

ETHAN: Good night...

MARTIN: And you think we got a chance to find her?

ETHAN: An Injun will chase a thing til he thinks he's chased it enough...Then he quits...Same when he runs...Seems he never learns there's such a thing as a critter that might just keep comin' on...So we'll find them in the end, I promise you that...We'll find them just as sure as the turning of the earth.

MARTIN: Say it. We're beat!

ETHAN: No...our turnin' back don't change anything...not in the long run. If she's alive, she's safe...for a while...They'll keep her to raise as one of their own, 'til she's of an age to...

MARTIN: What you goin' to do?

ETHAN: Get some sleep...Tomorrow's another day...

MARTIN: Say!...What happened to your blanket? Lose it?

ETHAN: Must've...Anyway, I ain't goin' back to look for it...

MARTIN: You all right, Ethan?

ETHAN: Huh...? Sure I'm all right...

MARTIN: You want us to fire a shot if...

ETHAN: No...nor build bonfires...nor beat drums neither. I'll meet you on the far side.

ETHAN: Easy on that!

MARTIN: Sorry...We don't even know if Debbie 'n Lucy are with this bunch...Maybe they split up...

ETHAN: They're with 'em -- if they're still alive.

ETHAN: All right...but I'm givin' the orders...You take 'em or we split up here and now...

MARTIN: Why, sure, Ethan...There's just the one thing we're after...finding Deborah and Lucy...

ETHAN: If they're still alive...

ETHAN: Nothing for you to see.

MARTIN: Leggo...

MARTIN: Well, come on!

ETHAN: Easy! It's forty miles, sonny...Horses can do with some grain and a little rest.

MARTIN: What you want me to call you?

ETHAN: Name's Ethan...Now what's so mighty fishy about this trail?

MARTIN: Well, fust off...

MARTIN: Somethin' mighty fishy about this trail, Uncle Ethan...

ETHAN: Stop callin' me 'uncle'...I ain't your uncle.

MARTIN: Yes, sir.

ETHAN: Don't have to call me 'sir' neither... Nor grampaw neither...Nor Methuselah neither...I can whup you to a frazzle.

MARTIN: Not quite...Quarter Cherokee. The rest is Welsh...So they tell me.

ETHAN: You've done a lot of growin'...

ETHAN: Well, we only got the one lead -- Scar...And where we begin to look, I don't know...

KEEFER: There's one thing. We recovered a bushel of trinkets in that camp... cheap stuff...trade goods...Couldn't help noticing that most of it was Mexican...Maybe if you could talk to some of those Mexican traders along the border...What do they call themselves?

ETHAN: Comancheros...

KEEFER: That's the breed...Course it might take time.

ETHAN: Time's running out...But I'm obliged to you.

KEEFER: Was your niece about their age?

ETHAN: Not far from it...

KEEFER: Hard to realize they're white, isn't it...

ETHAN: They're not white any more -- they're Comanche!...Let's see the bodies...

ETHAN: She's not a little girl any more.

MRS. JORGENSEN: You've seen her!...She's alive?

ETHAN: I've seen her...and she's alive.

MRS. JORGENSEN: Why it's just a snip of calico...

ETHAN: You ever see it before...like mebbe on a dress Debbie wore?

MRS. JORGENSEN: Yes!..Yes, I remember!..Have they found her, Ethan?

ETHAN: No...not yet...

MRS. JORGENSEN: Well, you did all a body could, Ethan.

ETHAN: I got your boy killed.

MRS. JORGENSEN: Don't go blamin' yourself...

ETHAN: I'd be obliged if you'd get to the point, ma'am.

MRS. JORGENSEN: I am...I am...It's just that I know Martha'd want you to think of her boys as well as her girls...And if the girls are...dead...Ethan, don't let the boys waste their lives in vengeance!

JORGENSEN: They never find that girl.

LAURIE: Yours truly... And he even has to write his full name...Martin Pauley...not even just Martie!... I don't care if he never comes back!

JORGENSEN: Every young man should at least once...Go on, Laurie! Read!

LAURIE: A little Comanche squaw - SQUAW!

LAURIE: The late Mister Futterman?

JORGENSEN: That means Mister Futterman is dead, by golly.

LAURIE: Oh, all right! Well...Martin says...

JORGENSEN: From the beginning...

LAURIE: 'Dear Miss Laury'...He spells it with a Y instead of an I...E...Wouldn't you think he'd know...

JORGENSEN: Who cares what he spells it? Read the letter.

LAURIE: Dear Miss Laury...I take pen in hand to let you know Ethan and me still are trying to catch up with them Com- anches the late Mister Futterman told us about...

LAURIE: Martie...don't go! Not this time.

MARTIN: You crazy?

LAURIE: It's too late...She's a woman grown now...

MARTIN: I got to fetch her home...

LAURIE: Fetch what home?...The leavin's of Comanche bucks -- sold time an' again to the highest bidder?...With savage brats of her own, most like?...

MARTIN: Laurie! Shut your mouth!

LAURIE: Do you know what Ethan will do if he has a chance?...He'll put a bullet in her brain! And I tell you Martha would want him to!

MARTIN: Only if I'm dead!

MARTIN: Don't cry, Laurie...I understand how it is...I'll just go 'way...

LAURIE: You do and I'll die, Martie...I will! I'll just die!

MARTIN: I...I wrote you a letter...Reckon you didn't get it...

LAURIE: One letter in five years...I read it till the paper dried up and the writing faded out...

MARTIN: It wasn't much of a letter...

LAURIE: No, it wasn't...You mighta said you loved me...You mighta asked me to wait...At least that'd have been something...

MARTIN: But I allus loved you...You know that, without my sayin' it...I couldn't bring myself to ask you to wait...the little I had... not knowin' how much longer until we found Debbie...

LAURIE: It isn't fair...

LAURIE: Take it and welcome...but don't count on finding me here when you get back...I've been dallying around this god-forsaken wind-scour almost two long years waitin' for you...I ain't cut out to be an old maid!

MARTIN: I can't help it, Laurie...I just gotta catch up with Ethan...

MARTIN: Futterman!...He's got a little tradin' post on the South Fork o' the Brazos...Laurie, I just got to get me a good horse! Think yer pa would...

LAURIE: Finish your breakfast...

MARTIN: I gotta catch up with him, Laurie!

LAURIE: Go on then! Pa's in the barn saddlin' the Fort Worth stud... an' you can take the light gelding with the blaze...

MARTIN: But that's Sweet-face -- your own good horse.

MARTIN: Might at least have left me my pants!

LAURIE: Shush!...Time for bed anyway... Likely these'll need some takin' in...Oh, Martie, you're that gaunted! ...Ma's havin' a turkey for dinner tomorrow and...

LAURIE: What you gettin' red-in-the-face for?...I have brothers, haven't I?

MARTIN: Well I ain't one of 'em!

LAURIE: I'm a woman, Martie... We wash and mend your dirty clothes all our lives...When you're little we even wash you....How a man can ever make out to get bashful in front of a woman I'll never know...

MARTIN: You talk like a feller might just as leave run around nekkid...

LAURIE: Wouldn't bother me... I wouldn't try it in front of pa, though, was I you...

MARTIN: Don't go takin' that stuff...

LAURIE: Ain't worth the mendin'...

MARTIN: She'd be about thirteen now...

OFFICER: We got two around that age...

MARTIN: Where?

OFFICER: You'll have to wait until we reach the agency...Fall in behind the column...

MARTIN: But couldn't you...?

OFFICER: Sorry... Keep the column moving!..Close ranks there!