Original subtitles

Hyah!

♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪

♪ Keep movin', movin', movin' ♪

♪ Though they're disapprovin' ♪

♪ Keep them dogies movin' ♪

♪ Rawhide! ♪

♪ Don't try To understand 'em ♪

♪ Just rope, throw And brand 'em ♪

♪ Soon we'll be livin' High and wide ♪

♪ My heart's calculatin' ♪

♪ My true love Will be waitin' ♪

♪ Be waiting at the end Of my ride ♪

♪ Move 'em on, head 'em up Head 'em up, move 'em on ♪

♪ Move 'em on, head 'em up Rawhide ♪

♪ Cut 'em out, ride 'em in Ride 'em in, let 'em out ♪

♪ Cut 'em out Ride 'em in ♪

♪ Rawhide! ♪

♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪

Hyah!

Hyah!

♪ Rawhide! ♪

Hyah!

When it comes to cattle,

you can brand 'em with a barbed brand,

a bench brand or a bosal brand,

which is a stripe runnin' around the cow's nose.

Or you can use a runnin' or a swingin' brand,

a tumblin' or a walkin' brand...

whose lower part looks like feet.

But whichever you use,

from then on, you know who the cow belongs to.

When it comes to men, though,

it's not that easy.

They don't wear brands.

What herd they're runnin' with, what loyalties they got,

is anybody's guess.

And I can't afford to guess.

I'm Gil Favor, trail boss.

Hey, Lark, wake up.

I ain't sleepin'.

Well, this is one day I thought would never end.

Well, it ain't ended yet for you.

You gotta ride back to pick up any stragglers.

Well, I might just keep on goin'.

Quince, you realize there ain't a single,

even halfway, good reason a man would hire out for a drover?

I don't know. You're eatin' pretty regular.

Wishbone stew and sourdough? Yeah.

You realize there's a hundred towns along this trail

we ain't never gonna see.

Women in 'em silk-dressed and high-heeled.

Colored lights,

whiskey in fancy bottles.

Lark, you got it real bad.

I ain't got it bad.

I got nothin'.

That's a real nice fire.

I said...

that's a real nice fire.

Yes, it is.

You out here all by yourself?

My father.

Where's he?

He took the wagon to the ridge.

Thought perhaps he might be able to see the stones

while there was still light.

W-what stones?

The ones the druids left.

I ain't never heard of no tribe like that.

They're all dead.

Nearly all.

That ridge is more than an hour's ride away.

Dinner will be spoiled if he doesn't get back soon.

He shouldn't have left you out here all by yourself.

Why?

Well, you can't tell who's runnin' loose on the prairie.

Injuns, drunk drovers...

I'm not afraid.

You ain't?

You see, there's no oak trees around here.

No, ma'am, there sure ain't.

But there's...

Who are you?

I ain't asked you who you are.

I'm Maeve Lismore.

Pleased to meet you.

Look, there's a campful of drovers,

not more than a couple of miles from here.

No tellin' what might happen to you

if one of them was to come across you.

Nothing will.

It's so empty.

Let me take you into town, where you'll be safe.

I couldn't leave my father.

Besides, I'm... I'm safe here.

Sure.

Sure you are.

That wasn't bad, was it?

No, now that wasn't bad at all.

There ain't no use runnin'!

Then, like I was sayin',

these four jaspers came chargin' at me...

Mushy!

Mushy.

Oh, I wasn't sleepin', Mr. Wishbone.

Then what was I just sayin'?

About that redheaded gal in San Antone.

The one who snapped her garters at you.

You're three girls and 600 miles off.

I'm sorry, Mr. Wishbone.

How are you over gonna get to become a good trail cook?

Well, it's this heat, Mr. Wishbone.

Mushy, a good drover don't pay no attention

to whether he's boilin' or freezin'.

Sure is hot, ain't it?

Get the coffee.

Everybody else has ate, Mr. Favor.

'Cept Jim Lark.

Yeah, where is he?

Well, I sent Quince out to...

tell him to pick up some stragglers over an hour ago.

He'll be in. I ain't so sure.

Why not?

Oh, he's been doin' so much gripin'.

Huh. So's everybody else.

Oh, trail hands sure ain't what they used to be.

Now, you take them two that quit yesterday...

Ah, forget 'em.

I wish I could.

We're runnin' long on provisions, Mr. Favor,

but mighty short on sleep.

We could use a half a dozen m...

More men than we got.

We'll manage.

Well, I don't know, boss. We lose many more, we won't.

Way I figure, it's the heat.

That's what I was sayin', Mr. Favor.

That's what Mr. Wishbone was sayin'.

Who's that comin' in?

Mr. Wishbone, that's a lady.

You're learnin', son.

Miss?

Do you mind tellin' us your name?

Look, you're ridin' one of our horses, uh...

I'd like to know why.

I know you.

Maybe. But I don't think so.

Not your name...

or where you came from...

or where you're going.

Except for a little space.

Don't quite understand.

A little space for warmth...

and then the oak tree...

to die in your arms.

She hurt?

I don't know.

Look, she couldn't have been out there alone.

You better ride out and find out where she came from.

Now, there's nothin' to be afraid of, miss.

My name's Wishbone.

I'm the trail cook.

How did I get here?

Well, you came ridin' into camp a bit ago.

I don't remember anything except...

You came ridin' in on one of our drover's horses.

Drover's name was Jim Lark.

Tall man, kinda dark.

Yes. That's what he was like.

What who was like?

The man who...

came toward me...

It was a knife.

Some blood.

Where's my father?

I've sent a man out to look for who you were with.

He'll bring him back.

And the other man.

You won't let him come near me?

Don't worry about him.

Now... you lie back down, miss.

Lark.

What happened to your horse?

Oh, he shied at a gopher and threw me.

I must've cut my face on a rock.

You don't have to worry about that horse though.

He'll find his way home.

He already has.

Well, he's smarter than I am.

I wasted a couple hours lookin' for him.

Came in with a girl on his back.

She's right over there.

And her story don't match yours.

Which story you like best?

I think hers sounds more like the truth.

Makin' mine a lie?

I think makin' yours a lie.

She's a pretty girl, Mr. Favor.

You think she's worth dyin' for?

Draw your time in the mornin'.

Don't push your luck.

I got no quarrel with you.

You can make one real easy.

Boss, this is Professor Lismore.

He's the girl's father.

Professor and criminal fool. Where is she?

She's right over by the wagon, professor.

Oh, thank you.

Uh, I didn't have too much trouble findin' him.

Big trouble came afterwards.

What trouble?

Understandin' him. Hm.

Hm?

Have you ever, um...

Have you ever heard of druds?

Druds?

Yeah, druds.

No.

You wouldn't...

You wouldn't mean druids by any chance, would you?

Druds, yeah.

Uh, some kind of ancient tribe, I think.

Are they Indians?

No. They're from over in Europe.

Well, have they got people there still?

I don't think so.

Why?

Well...

seems the reason the professor there

came out from Boston was these druds.

They, uh... And stone circles.

Take stones and tow 'em together,

and make big circles out of 'em.

Hoo, boy.

All I can figure offhand is...

professor took a wrong turn in the trail somewhere.

Yeah, I was thinkin' that too.

Mr. Favor. Yeah?

That professor and his daughter...

There's somethin' mighty funny about them.

What's wrong?

They can't remember when they last ate.

And they don't care.

There you are.

That'll put new heart into you.

Thank you, sir.

Well, it ain't fancy, but...

the nourishment's there.

Ah, this is very pleasant.

Almost idyllic, in a primitive way.

Yes.

It is different from Boston, professor.

Implying that I should have remained there

instead of roaming the Western plains?

Perhaps you're right...

but I couldn't resist.

Couldn't resist what?

For years, reports have been brought back East

from Westerners of one sort or another,

to the effect that they have seen...

druid ruins...

on the Texas plains.

What exactly are, uh, druids, professor?

They were pagans, Mr. Favor.

They worshipped dark and bloody gods

in dark and bloody ways.

They lived and died in England

before the dawn of Christianity.

They built huge altars to their gods.

Gray stones...

on which the blood

of their sacrifices ran red.

But they're all dead now, ain't they?

Perhaps.

Their blood runs in my father's veins.

And in mine.

Well, uh...

That ain't quite the same thing, is it?

I wonder.

They hated death.

To this date, no burial ground

of theirs has ever been found.

They were small and weak,

but they raised tremendous monuments

to their strength.

Not of their muscles,

but of... their spells and incantations.

It's said that they could kill at a distance.

That they could destroy man or beast...

with horrible agony...

by chanted words

spoken in the dark of the moon...

over a flickering fire.

Ain't no moon tonight.

Oak trees were sacred to them.

They believed that the soul of each druid

lived in its own oak tree,

and they laid a curse on any man who harmed such a tree.

And that man died.

Not quickly, but horribly.

And the same curse

protected their sacred stone altars

in their day.

And it's said...

in ours.

You came all the way out here from the East

just lookin' for them kind of stones?

Believe all you've told us?

As an archaeologist, a scientist,

of course not.

But as a human being,

all I can say is that many men

who have tried to investigate

druid ruins have died.

And no one knows why.

Then wouldn't it be better

to just head off in the other direction?

We can't.

You see, it's almost Midsummer Day.

Well, what happens on Midsummer Day?

Or, uh, wh...

What's supposed to happen?

They paid their respects to Death.

How?

By offering to the dark gods his victims.

The fairest maidens of their tribes.

By sacrifice...

with stone knives on stone altars.

Oh, this coffee's gotten stone...

I mean, it's gotten cold.

The altars are cold on Midsummer Day...

till the sun rises...

and the blood of the maidens

runs across them...

and warms them.

I better get you some fresh coffee.

Any way you look at it,

them maidens just didn't get a fair deal.

I think the girls were proud to be chosen.

They sang as they were being led to the altar.

♪ 'Neath the reaching oak tree ♪

♪ Death will come ♪

♪ Midsummer Day ♪

♪ I give myself ♪

♪ Midsummer's Day... ♪ Nice voice.

Nice figure.

But she ain't got nice ideas.

Shut up, Hames.

Bit too handy with a knife,

ain't she, Lark?

I wouldn't mind bein' cut up a little by her.

Right, Lark?

♪ I wait ♪

Well, uh...

That's a... real beautiful song, miss.

Heathen's what it is.

Suppose the stones really were out here.

What would be the value of findin' 'em?

The value, Mr. Favor?

They would be a treasure

beyond your richest imagining.

Finding them would be

finding a vein of the purest gold,

a chest of rubies and diamonds,

a storehouse of fabulous wealth.

I speak, of course, in hyperbole.

Y-you, uh... You speak in what?

Actually, they would be nothing but stones,

crudely shaped and carved.

But I've staked

my reputation on finding them.

Huh. I've lived so much in the past,

that sometimes I almost think it's still alive.

It is.

Uh... You don't really believe that.

I shouldn't. I know.

But I do.

Past isn't dead, Mr. Favor.

It's all around us.

I know it as surely as I know

that I'll... die under an oak tree.

Nonsense, Maeve.

Is it, father?

Isn't that how mother died?

Your mother was killed by lightning.

Sheer accident.

Accidents are what we call things

we don't understand.

But gods do.

Pete, get the hands out.

Rowdy, you'll have to stay here.

But, uh... Lark's still around.

Professor, you and your daughter better try gettin' some rest.

Thank you. We will, Mr. Favor.

But... I don't imagine you will, however.

Not tonight.

Thunder and lightnin' make the beeves restless.

Strange man, Mr. Favor.

Yeah, he's...

Yeah, he sure is.

He's strong and patient...

and enduring.

Like an oak.

Lark?

Drawin' your pay in the mornin', ain't you?

That's right.

Then you're headin' for the nearest town?

Uh-huh.

You're liable to get lonesome all by yourself.

I think maybe Creston and me'll quit come tomorrow mornin',

and go off with you.

I don't need company.

Well, you've got it.

We all heard what the professor said

about that loot hidden in them stones.

Supposin' that old man's crazy?

Supposin' he ain't?

Now, all we have to do is...

stay out of sight...

wait until the old man and his daughter

go off by themselves. Heh.

I'd like that, Lark.

Well, if that old man ain't completely out of his mind,

there ought to be enough for all of us.

There's just one thing.

You're the boss, Lark.

Well, there's somethin' else.

Don't worry about the girl, Lark.

Creston and me ain't the romantic type.

Both pickin' a bad time to be quittin'.

You know I'm shorthanded.

Yeah, got a sudden feelin', Mr. Favor. I...

I guess it's the heat.

Yeah, maybe.

Me, I don't like druids.

They're liable to put a curse on you.

First thing you know, I'm liable to...

Rowdy!

For someone who complains about the food so much...

I eat a lot.

Yeah.

Now, are you just gonna stand there

the rest of your natural life?

Mr. Wishbone? What?

What's troublin' Mr. Favor?

Shut up.

Huh?

You heard what I said. I said, "Shut up."

Oh. Oh.

Get out.

Sure.

I wonder where those jaspers are goin'.

I know where they're goin', Mr. Wishbone.

Yeah, where?

Shut up.

Miss Lismore, uh...

that's the last you'll be seein' of Lark.

Perhaps.

You've been very kind to me, even though I've brought you

nothing but trouble.

You haven't brought any trouble.

Lost three of your men.

We can do without them.

There'll be more trouble and worse.

You know, in the morning, when...

When the sun's shining, and...

the world's fresh and new, it...

doesn't seem as though night will ever come.

It always does.

Uh... your breakfast, my dear.

I persuaded your Mr. Wishbone

to give me the recipe of this stew.

When we return to Boston,

my dinners shall become famous. Heh.

Although it does seem rather odd

to be having stew for breakfast.

Uh... It's not our usual breakfast.

We were up all night.

All Wishbone had time for was to warm up leftovers.

I see.

And delightful leftovers.

Oh, uh, Mr. Favor...

as I discovered yesterday,

the druid remains are not in this neighborhood.

Do you have any idea where they are then?

Well, I have a map of sorts.

It was rather impressive back East.

But out here it doesn't seem to help much.

However, the next most likely spot

is some miles north of here.

Oh? We're drivin' the herd north.

Yes, I know that.

Glad to come with us if you want to.

I accept your offer gladly,

before you have a chance to reconsider.

Won't.

Um...

you'd better keep the wagon

up ahead of the herd though.

Eat less dust that way.

Heh. Thank you.

Father.

Yes, my dear?

Should we go along with him?

The curse might touch him too.

Maeve, I'm beginning to be sorry

I brought you along.

I should never have allowed you

to help me in my research.

You're becoming obsessed

by a ridiculous, superstitious fear.

Well, if it's ridiculous,

we'll laugh at it back at Boston.

Yes, we shall.

I only wish your sister had come with us.

She's so much more sensible than you are.

That's why she didn't come.

I believe in your dream.

Eat your breakfast.

Yes, father.

Mighty good thing he's keepin' the herd on the trail.

Wagon too.

They'll split up.

There ain't no stone circles

on the Sedalia Trail.

What if Favor decides to be real helpful?

He's got 3,000 head of cattle to look after.

He might forget about the herd.

Not him.

Come on.

The most famous

of the druid remains is Stonehenge,

on the Salisbury Plain in England.

That's roughly how it's laid out.

That stone is 16 feet in length.

It's the altar.

Sunrise on Midsummer Day,

that's where the sun hits first.

The victim lay bound on the altar.

The high priest bent over him.

And when the sun's rays

struck the stone and the victim,

the high priest bent over and drove the knife home.

A charming custom.

Why did they do it?

It was a remote and barbarous age.

To please their gods, Mr. Yates.

Well, I'm sure glad I'm livin' now.

Someone may say the same thing about our own age

years from now.

Oh, they couldn't.

What the heck. We're different.

Are we? I wonder.

I wonder where Maeve's gone to.

Why, uh...

In the wagon, I think.

This outer circle is 300 feet in diameter.

The inner circle is 105.

Oh, you frightened me.

You shouldn't be out here alone.

There's nothing here that can hurt me.

No oak trees.

There's other things could be dangerous.

Not to me.

You don't believe in... druids

and curses and oak trees, do you?

Do you?

Really believe?

Oh, yes. Ever since I was a little girl, I knew.

The things Father discovered...

Maybe that's what's wrong.

You haven't lived in the real world at all.

It's all been books, fables.

Why are you so angry?

I just don't think your father should have

brought you out here...

on a search for something that never was.

Well, he's a very famous professor.

I don't doubt he knows more about the dead

than I'll ever know.

What about the living?

When I first saw you, I...

I said there'd be a little space for warmth.

Almost forgotten who I am.

Who am I?

Just a very pretty girl...

spent too much time dreaming.

Oh.

It's just a coyote.

The wailing.

Darkening of the moon.

They were signs.

Maeve.

To make me remember and...

I remember.

There was a little space.

There'll be an oak tree.

But now...

there can only be silence between us.

Only silence.

Goodbye, Mr. Favor.

Oh. Thank you.

I certainly appreciate

your taking us through first, Mr. Favor.

How long will it take you

to get the cattle through?

Most of the day.

I have to let the steers pick their own way through.

Goin' through this shale,

they could cut their hooves to shreds.

Well, it certainly seems a very pleasant place to wait.

I'll be able to keep an eye on you too.

What could possibly happen to us

in so peaceful a setting?

I just want to make sure nothing does.

You, uh, might be more comfortable in

the back of the wagon,

out of the sun.

May I help you?

Maeve.

Yes?

Is anything wrong between you and Mr. Favor?

No.

Then why don't you talk to him?

I said goodbye to him last night.

Which was, and is, ridiculous.

In view of the fact you'll be

seeing a great deal more of him.

I don't think so.

I think I'll only see him once again.

You're becoming impossible, Maeve.

You might at least come down from the wagon.

There are no oak trees here.

I know.

Stay right there.

No screamin', miss.

She ain't gonna scream.

You been waitin' for me, ain't you?

Yes, I've been waiting for you.

You drive, professor.

Come on.

Professor.

Where you goin'?

We decided we were wasting too much time,

waiting all day for you

to get your cattle through the canyon...

and then traveling much more slowly than we could alone.

Is it really gonna make a difference if it takes you

a day or two longer to find out there aren't any druids

or Stonehenges in Texas?

Mr. Favor, we're very grateful

to you for any past help...

but you're hardly the man

to decide our actions.

Maeve?

May we go now, Mr. Favor?

You get in the back, professor.

There's one thing a man can't argue with.

A woman that don't want him.

You just saved a lot of lives.

Your father's, Mr. Favor's.

Maybe even mine.

Now, ain't this cozy?

Giddap.

Those are oak trees, Father.

Yes, my dear.

You people are idiots.

Sure, professor.

Now, you tell us how we're idiots.

As I've already told you,

the treasure I was speaking of

is archaeological treasure,

not gold or precious stones.

Uh-huh.

I am an archaeologist, not a treasure hunter.

I don't mind.

Then will you kindly release

my daughter and myself at once?

Sure.

Afterward.

After what?

After you lead us to the treasure

that ain't a treasure.

But I've already told you...

Sure. What else could you say?

That I absolutely refuse

to lead you anywhere!

Sit down, professor.

Yeah, come on. Make yourself comfortable.

Heh.

Uh... No!

Father!

Kinda singes you a little, don't it?

You're heathens. You're mad.

You gonna change your mind, professor?

There is no treasure.

How can I convince you?

Maybe we're goin' about this the wrong way.

Maybe we ought to get his daughter over here.

Lark! Lark, what's the matter with you?

You killed her!

She had a rifle on you.

She never fired a rifle in her life.

She didn't even know how to cock it!

How was I supposed to know?

Yeah.

How were you supposed to know?

Three riders headin' this way.

The girl.

Get the horses.

We leave the wagon here.

Who shot her?

What difference does it make?

Come on.

Up.

Mr. Favor.

Maeve.

Oh, I was afraid that...

No, no.

I couldn't die until you came.

'Cause dyin' is real...

and you were the only real thing in my life.

You're not going to die.

I met you much too late.

Maybe... Maybe, earlier.

It's an oak tree, isn't it?

Yes, but it...

Don't be unhappy.

There never was anything else for me.

Except this.

In your arms, for a while, I...

I hoped.

I...

Rowdy, you ought to go on back to the herd.

Somebody's got to take charge.

Mr. Favor's gonna want to help the professor

and find the men that did this.

Yeah. Well, I'll go back and put Quince in charge,

and meet you later.

Well, we'll... We'll be here quite a while.

All right.

Can I help you, uh...

Well, I'll ride on ahead

and see if I can pick up their trail.

I'm not Maeve.

Then who are you?

Her sister.

We were born in the same hour.

I feel as though half of me had died.

I don't know if I did the right thing, boss,

but she was back at camp when I got there.

I was away when Father brought Maeve west with him.

I wouldn't have never let him bring her.

She believed too easily.

Strongly.

Where's Father?

Rowdy...

you'd better get her back to camp.

Oh no, Mr. Favor, I'm not Maeve.

I can ride, shoot.

Think I can kill now.

Did you ever see the map your father had?

That's how I found your camp.

Came up here alone?

I hired a guide in San Miguel.

You remember anything on the map that might help us?

Well, there were two places marked.

One in a canyon.

No, there was nothing at the canyon, Miss Maeve.

The other was in the hills.

My name's Mona, Mr. Favor.

Yes.

Maybe we ought to get goin', huh?

Yeah.

It's not druid. The rumors were false.

What's that say?

It's Indian writing.

That's all I can tell you.

You better tell me a lot more.

I'm not sure.

It tells of death brought by the iron men

who are thirsty for the tears of the sun.

What's "tears of the sun"?

Among the Aztecs, it meant...

Oh, I'm very tired, I don't know...

Old man.

What's "tears of the sun"?

Gold.

Lark!

Look.

What is that?

Unless I'm mistaken,

it's Spanish armor.

The kind worn by Cortés and the conquistadores.

It must be centuries old.

The dry air must have preserved it

through all these years.

The iron men, huh?

Looks like they didn't have much luck.

I think we gonna make out a lot better.

Come on.

Here's the stone.

They were buffalo worshippers.

They slaughtered buffalo on the stone slab.

Like they did to them iron men, huh?

It's all very interesting, professor.

Now, where do we start to dig?

Lark!

He was snoopin' around.

Nolan, huh?

Favor must've sent him to pick up our trail.

He did.

It ain't gonna do him no good.

Tie him up.

Sure. You want 'em to hear the shot?

Professor, it looks like

we ain't gonna have much time.

Now, you ain't gonna have any time at all

unless you start talkin'.

If there were any relics or treasures buried here...

they would be...

in front of the stone.

Creston! Eh?

He's cooled off.

Miss Mona...

if Rowdy and I aren't back in a few minutes,

you get on back to camp.

Well, I can't stay here... You do what I tell you.

I watched you die once.

Let's take care of them first.

We don't want the professor to get worried.

Professor.

Professor!

Wake up.

Untie me, professor. Untie me.

Yeah.

Creston!

Hold it!

Can use you.

Now, don't get impatient, professor.

Your friends are gonna be here right away.

Creston.

Hold up, Rowdy.

Better do what he says, Rowdy!

Favor? Yeah?

Creston's got a gun on Lismore,

and from this distance, I couldn't miss Nolan.

You make a move,

and he gets it now.

All right. What do you want?

Why don't you start by droppin' your guns?

Now take a step back.

There's a couple extra hands for diggin'.

The girl.

Wait! What's the matter with you?

I shot her. I killed her!

Well, maybe you missed her.

I didn't miss! I didn't miss!

For a moment, I...

I thought I was Maeve.

But I'm not, am I?

There's no way we can thank you enough, Mr. Favor.

Oh. Isn't necessary, professor.

We'll go back east.

Perhaps, in time, we'll be able to forget.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Mr. Favor.

You know, the oak tree...

grave under it...

well, it doesn't seem quite real.

I'm not Maeve, Mr. Favor.

No. You're not.

Goodbye.

Head 'em up!

Move 'em out!

♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪

♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪

♪ Keep rollin' Rollin', rollin' ♪

♪ Though the streams Are swollen ♪

♪ Keep them dogies rollin' ♪

♪ Rawhide! ♪

♪ Through rain And wind and weather ♪

♪ Hell-bent for leather ♪

♪ Wishin' my gal Was by my side ♪

♪ All the things I'm missin' ♪

♪ Good vittles Love and kissin' ♪

♪ Are waiting at the end Of my ride ♪

♪ Move 'em on, head 'em up Head 'em up, move 'em on ♪

♪ Move 'em on, head 'em up Rawhide ♪

♪ Cut 'em out, ride 'em in Ride 'em in, let 'em out ♪

♪ Cut 'em out Ride 'em in ♪

♪ Rawhide! ♪

♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪

Hyah!

Hyah!

♪ Rawhide! ♪

Hyah!

Hyah!

♪ Rollin', rollin'... ♪