Original subtitles

[humming]

[squawking]

[squawking]

Oh, to meet the brute who did this.

[squawking]

Easy, fella. Easy.

Easy, lad.

Hold it!

I don't know if you know it or not, mister,

but you're on private property.

-Well, am I, now? -Uh-huh.

So, who are you, and what do you think you're doing here?

Well, now, as to private property,

I never could believe the dear God

intended for men to cut up this beautiful earth

into parcels for themselves,

holding in captivity all living creatures upon the same.

So, as to trespassing,

there's no such thing,

and I go where my foot leads me,

which is according to the wind at me back.

Mm-hmm, all right. Stand aside.

Uhh!

What are you, a lunatic?

Aye, that I am.

A lunatic.

They locked me away for protecting eagles.

For, as any sane man knows,

a thing of air and freedom must be killed!

Well, that thing of air and freedom

has been killing our sheep and chickens.

I don't know what road you came in on, mister,

but you'd better find that road and get.

[squawking]

[squawking]

Surely you'll not be keeping the poor creature.

That's worse than killing it.

Let it go.

May he pick out your eyes.

You got a horse?

Horse.

It's the rich who ride.

A walking man is Patrick Madigan.

Oh, a tramp.

From Canada to this beautiful valley,

spoiled only by the presence of yourself.

You walked all the way from Canada?

There were times when it was necessary to swim.

Get.

Shall we have another go at it?

You show your tail on this property again,

and I'm sure we will.

May he be your private devil!

And the two of you in the cage you build for him!

♪♪ [theme]

[squawking]

All right, my boy,

I want you to take this good prime beef.

Come on, take it.

Audra, I wonder what we're gonna think of Brother Nick

with a face like a lace curtain.

Nick, the book says

he's supposed to be blindfolded at first.

"The book."

It also says each time he takes food from you,

just as he swallows it, you're supposed to give him a certain whistle.

Ah. How about "Turkey in the Straw?

Oh, now, will you two clear out of here?

I'm trying to tame this bird,

and I'm not getting any help from you.

You're not getting much help from the bird, either.

What is it, mac?

Did you post a notice in Stockton

that we want to hire a dynamiter?

No, we didn't. Nick, you're going about this wrong.

Yes, we did. What do you mean, "all wrong"?

There's a fella out there, claims to be our man.

In the first place, what you have to do

is teach this bird how to read.

What do you mean, advertise for a dynamiter?

The mines-- Sundown Hill.

While your engineer friend's been poking around,

trying to make up his mind,

I decided to go ahead and get a dynamiter,

do it my way.

Nick, you know you'll never get the major

to agree to that.

Until we closed that mine,

there was an accident for every pound of gold we took out of it.

We just don't need it.

But it's there.

So is the record.

The record?

Fify-year-old record!

They went at it their way. Where is he?

Right outside.

Take over.

Bear a bit on the handle like a good lad.

Glory be.

I told you to--

It will be my pleasure someday

to open that hard head.

Now, it's business I'm on here.

If you'll just send out your foreman.

[laughs] Holy angels.

Is it you I've come to see?

If you're a dynamiter,

why didn't you say so out there?

I was otherwise engaged.

You a pretty good dynamiter?

I have that talent.

Where have you worked?

Oh, this is my brother Jarrod. He's a lawyer.

Oh, lawyer, now?

Would you care to hear an opinion of lawyers and judges?

Not particularly.

Just nice, straight answers.

Where have you worked?

Any mining?

Isn't that where I got me training--

Digging English coal to warm English noses?

Well, that's very interesting.

But what would you do about rocks so rotten

that a mine had to be closed?

And what's your religion, and how do you vote,

and what's the fashion of your nether clothes?

Now, is it a dynamiter you people want?

I can sharpen a pencil with a stick of the stuff.

If my word's not good enough, good day to you.

Wait a minute, hold on, hold on.

Jarrod, he's already here.

Pay him his time.

The least we can do is take him out to the mine

and let him take a look at it.

Then he can tell us what he thinks our chances are.

All right, Nick, you do that.

Then pay him for his time.

All right, let's get out there.

Well, I'll have a bite to eat first,

if you've the good manners to offer it.

And a drop to wash it down.

And a shirt. For if I'm to dine,

I'll not sit naked.

And you might modify that master's tone in your voice.

You've not hired a flunky.

Air bubbles. Weak spots.

The whole thing will come down if you just holler.

Watch it.

Don't move.

Was it you who posted that warning?

Here when we opened the tunnel.

You've the luck of Flanagan's donkey.

Back. Slowly, now.

Don't touch anything. Come on.

[coughs, spits]

What was so special about Flanagan's donkey?

Well, he'd browse the edge of the cliffs

each and every morning, heedless of the danger.

Then one morning, the cliff-top broke loose

and tumbled into the sea, carrying all.

But was Flanagan's fortunate animal there?

-No? -Correct.

He'd eaten thistles and choked to death

only the day before.

Lucky.

A lovely place.

Some coal here and there,

and a few lads dying of the consumption.

It would be a mirror of my childhood.

[sighs] I've seen it.

What do you say?

The sensible thing to do? Leave it alone.

MAN: Barkley?

Barkley?

NICK: Wilson!

Barkley, where are you?

Up here!

I figured to drop the whole inside of this hill,

compact it, and start again from scratch--

Open-cut mining.

Ah, the torment of the rich--

To become richer.

Ah. There we are.

I was told you were here.

Now, what's all this nonsense about a dynamiter?

Patrick Madigan, Major Wilson--

Ex-british corps of engineers.

Madigan, eh?

If there's a pimple on my nose,

would you be kind enough to tell me?

Madigan. Army?

Not yours.

Oh, yes. Ireland.

Belfast. Or Dublin.

If it is, I've not committed it to memory.

I understand from Jarrod

this man appeared out of nowhere, as it were.

Came in answer to my notice.

References? Recommendations?

What papers, establishing that he may be indeed trusted with dynamite?

Haven't you heard? It's become an Irish specialty.

Major, when I hire a man,

I'm the one that fires him, no one else.

WILSON: You don't need a dynamiter at all.

We re-cut these passages,

square-timber them.

You said that'd be too expensive.

And at best would only postpone a catastrophe.

This hill is unstable.

Then why not my idea? I know--Too risky.

He says it's not sensible.

Oh, but did I say I'd not be willing to try?

You sure change your mind quick enough.

It's no more sensible than it was before,

but sensible is for the man

who means to die in bed.

A series of charges, each setting off the other,

would breach the walls,

blow the overhead to dust,

and down would come the whole interior,

leaving not a space the size of an egg.

What about the water?

Well, now, that would be a problem for the engineer.

But one that shouldn't be insolvable-- Heh--

With the application of a little ingenuity.

[sniffs]

It's gettin' a little stuffy in here.

You're going to do it?

With or without you.

Very well.

I shall return to the house

and offer every sound reason

for abandoning this mad project,

and then offer to supervise it...

with a different dynamiter.

Because if that chap is the man I believe him to be,

your Mr. Patrick Madigan is a very violent man,

and having him on your ranch

would be like sheltering a time bomb.

Kelly lay on his back,

and O'Brien crawled to him in the dark...

and felt for a sign of life.

"Oh, Kelly," he moaned.

"Kelly, my dear friend, I feel a wetness upon you,

and it's afraid, I am, to think of what it may be."

"Well, strike a match," whispers Kelly,

"and have a look."

And O'Brien does, and Kelly asks,

"Is it blood? Tell me the truth, O'Brien."

"Ohh, blood it is," moans O'Brien.

"There's blood all over you, Kelly."

"Praise be!" cries Kelly.

"I was afeard it was the whiskey!"

[all laughing]

Tell me, Madigan, what kind of country

is that Ireland place?

Why, it's a land of the leprechauns

and the Kellys and the O'Briens

and the Blarney Stone. Ha ha ha!

But that's not all there is.

Ah, it is a land for poets to tell about,

not a fool like me.

-[playing] -Ah,'tis the smoke of peat...

and it's the slow creak of carts along the road,

the little Connemara ponies.

A sweet land it is,

though often sad.

Oh, come on, now. We'll have none of that.

None of that blasted funeral music.

Alive, she is! Alive is Ireland!

And wantin' only to be free!

[playing upbeat tune]

Sorry to be late.

We started decorating the orphanage,

and suddenly it was 8:00.

How are you, major?

Well, I'm not sure.

We were just discussing Mr. Madigan.

Isn't he the most amazing man?

If he's not talking, he's dancing,

and if it's not that, it's something else.

He's like a runaway train.

Well, I'm starving.

I think I'll get something to eat.

Don't forget to make a hood for that eagle.

-First thing in the morning. -Mm-hmm.

Well...

yes, I must say I'm not entirely surprised that Audra,

and seemingly everyone else around here,

is captivated by his charm.

They're all charming--

All the terrorists in the society of Fenians.

And responsible for sabotage, arson,

and the brutal murders of good British soldiers.

Oh, thank you.

Yes, Mr. Madigan is quite efficient at dynamite.

His bombing of Clerkenwell Prison,

the circumstances of his escape from England--

Devilish good demonstrations of that fact.

But your Mr. Madigan

is guilty of treason against the crown.

Has he been tried?

He will be.

Oh, well, maybe I misunderstood you.

I thought I heard you say he was guilty.

Oh. Well, perhaps that was a bit unfair,

but he is a wanted man, Mr. Barkley.

He's a rebel.

You told me about his back.

-Surely that's proof enough. -Proof?

I'm sure he's been flogged.

It's customary with these fellows, you know.

No, I didn't know.

Oh. It's the only kind of treatment

a rebel understands, ma'am.

Major...

do you have any kind of official standing in this matter?

No, but I am a British subject,

and this man has committed crimes against the crown.

Ah, but that happened in your country, not here.

But they are crimes.

Seems to me that's a matter of opinion, major,

not fact.

The law is a fact, Mr. Barkley,

and breaking the law is a fact.

Well, that's always highly debatable.

See, the fact is,

Mr. Madigan is a political fugitive.

He committed crimes in Great Britain,

but they're not punishable in the United States.

And so I've asked you to accommodate me,

to, uh, shall we say, immobilize a...

shall we say, a suspicious character,

until my government can arrange to have him returned for trial.

We can't do that.

But, my dear lady--

Major, the day I find a name on our payroll

that is spotless,

that will be someone who hasn't lived very long or very much.

People are hired for what we want them to do,

and all we ask is that they stay clean here

and give us an honest day's work for their wages.

Now, you say this man Madigan is wanted,

and will we be good enough to move him

a few steps closer to the rope.

Well, we call that bounty hunting.

And the answer is no.

But I've described bombings to you, treason.

Those fellows are rebels.

Well, that depends on which side wins, doesn't it?

We call ours "patriots."

Nick, your revolution took place 100 years ago.

It was a revolution.

Let me say, I--

I understand your ideals.

I rather admire them.

But, you see, the chap we're talking about

is associated with riot, insurrection,

property damage and considerable bloodshed.

And if my country wishes to try Mr. Madigan for his crimes,

it will find a way to take him.

Will it?

It's a very old country, Mr. Barkley...

and very experienced.

Heh. I'm sure that we're not going to let this

affect our friendship in any way?

Oh, I hope not.

And that I may still look forward

to supervising the work at the old mine?

-That's up to you. -Thank you, my dear boy.

Because I expect to find it...

most interesting.

Oh, you poor beggar.

I can't offer you anything but my company.

Madigan.

Mac know you're sleeping out here?

What's wrong with the bunkhouse?

It's too crowded, and I can't stand snoring,

so I'll just take this barn and a little nest of hay.

Major Wilson tells me

that you've killed quite a few people

with your dynamiting.

Not that I know of.

Not that you know of?!

Now, I call that pretty careless.

It's the way of the world.

Well, you stay away from that kind of work

while you're around here.

And here's fair warning--

Anyone gets killed on this spread, it better be you.

We're gonna have an early breakfast.

We'll get the wagon and go on into Stockton,

pick up the things you need.

[squawks]

Come on. Come on, come on.

Oh, you do mean to tame him.

Civilize him. Make him hunt coyotes

instead of lambs and chickens.

Oh, fine.

And, as everyone knows,

He'll be much better than any of your traps

and your rifles.

He'll be much more useful trained than he is now.

You take my advice and stay away from those talons.

Good night.

And good night to you, sir.

[squawks]

Useful.

Not what you are.

[squawking]

Oh, stop hating the man.

Think how fortunate you are--

A home to come to,

warm and dry.

He'll feed you only the best.

And he'll nurse you and pet you

and proclaim to the world

how clever you are, how obedient.

And what does he ask in return,

this kind and generous man?

Only that you take a master.

That is such a small thing, you foolish bird.

Take a master.

[chirps]

You're quite a beauty, ain't you?

[whistling]

Breakfast will be in ten minutes.

Well, do I have to wait for him,

or is there room enough on the stump

for the both of us?

[squawking]

Come on.

Well, you've won the first battle.

Oh, hunger's a precious weapon,

and it costs nothing at all.

Fly, you sparrow.

What do you think you're doing?

Easy.

Easy.

That's it. Everything's all right.

You'd have let that bird fly off

with that hood on him, blinding him, and he'd have starved to death!

Why don't you come down out of the sky and use your head?

[laughs] What, and change the habit of a lifetime?

Oh, we'll have at it yet.

It was written before we were born.

You fellas must be fixin' to blow up the whole valley.

That would be against the law.

Ah, the times that I would've become a churchgoer

for a little bit of this stuff.

Oh, I'm sure you've been able to improvise quite effectively, sir.

Thank you, sir.

And such an expert hardly needs me

to help him measure a fuse and count blasting caps.

So, if you'll excuse me, I have a bit of business.

A bit of business, do you?

Here you are, sir.

Oh, yeah.

Let's see.

"British--"

British Embassy?

Hey, I reckon this town's getting important, huh?

Let's see.

"Hubert Wilson, Major, Ret."

what's "Ret"?

It means retired.

Oh, yeah, sure.

Well, that'll be $2.

[mutters]

There's a pencil and paper right over there--

Did you hear the story about the skinflint

who touched off the firecracker before Christmas Eve?

Uh, now, wait.

What are you doing?

And then he walked into the house

and told his family

that Father Christmas would not be appearing that year.

For the truth of the matter

was that the dear old gentleman had just been shot.

Shot!

I've been to funerals where the hearse moved faster!

Hang on, boys!

Hey, easy! This is dynamite!

Well, then don't let it fall!

Hyah!

Oh, it's gonna be a terrible day for the English!

Ha ha ha ha!

[gunshot]

Clear the way!

[horse neighs]

That's good, boys. Over here.

All right, boys, put it right there.

Wet.

Is that bad?

It produces hydrostatic pressure of water

on the dynamite cartridge.

MADIGAN: Dear, dear.

See, when one plants a series of these,

it's with the idea of producing

a progressively intensified shockwave.

If one of the dynamite charges fails to go off,

the series is broken.

Only parts of the interior will collapse,

blocking off the parts that are not collapsed.

Would I be detecting gas in here?

[sniffs] Oh, and considerable it is.

Better break it off, boys.

We'll clear it and continue tomorrow.

What's the blather you're feeding the poor man?

The charges I place go off.

In wet boreholes?

Even under wet bridges.

If you gentlemen will excuse me,

I have a ranch to run.

You'll have to carry your little war on by yourself.

You are the man I thought you were.

Did you have doubts indeed?

You showed none in the telegram.

Telegram?

There.

Do you think I sleep

with an Englishman aware of me naked throat?

Impudent.

I can understand how you acquired those scars on your back.

Scars? Those are me medals!

Oh, you Englishman.

You don't see the humor in it, do you?

I say "medals",

and you think, "why not?

It's where a slave would be wearing them-- On his back."

well, Patrick Madigan is no slave.

My father and his father before him--

They were your Irish footboys.

They were your Irish slaves, not I.

I never bent but to pick up a cobblestone.

And when the redcoats rode in

to burn our village,

reprisal, it was called.

One of them came at me,

on a horse so tall,

charging at a small lad with a stone in his hand,

a traitor with a stone in his hand.

And then the flat of that sword

coming down on the lad's back like a whip--

A whip!

Until I lay in the mud

and could not scream of the mud in my mouth.

May my brain rot if I forget it!

If I forget the salt tears of my mother

burning in the wounds as she kissed them.

Oh, what you've done to my land,

what you do to us each black day.

And you think a million Patrick Madigan will not fight you

if it means a million will die?

Will we not blast your bridges and bomb your courts

and kill your soldiers and spit into your hearts

until we shake the rooftree of your world?

Till out of fear, and nothing else,

you grant us our freedom?

Freedom to do what?

To break any law just as the thought comes to you?

Destroy property? Play with men's lives--

A wagon loaded with dynamite--

Just because you think that's what it means to be free?

I came at you.

Obviously.

And the four men in that wagon--

Do you think it right, in the name of freedom, to imperil their lives?

I've seen men like you in the army--

Violent, irresponsible, undisciplined.

You're a man who must be ruled.

And that's your answer, is it,

to all the blood and the weeping

and the ache in the heart of us?

I'm not your judge.

You'll have your day in court.

My only duty is to send this telegram.

You'll send nothing.

And you'll say nothing.

Stand aside!

Now, here's an Englishman without a whip

and not one soldier at the side of him.

And here's Patrick Madigan,

who bombed Clerkenwell Prison

and Kilmainham Jail,

and never felt the face of an Englishman

against the back of his hand.

The end is always the same, Mr. Madigan.

You'll do better to change your dream.

Come on. Here.

There.

See how easy that was, huh?

You know what the trouble with you is?

You just don't know.

You're too used to being up on that mountaintop, aren't you?

Ah, his master's voice.

You just get in?

It was a slow ride in the dark, and alone.

You and the major still at odds?

Well, not anymore.

Good.

A man came to the mine to see him--A stranger.

They spoke a while and then rode off together.

Where?

They neglected to confide in me.

The stranger-- What'd he look like?

Oh, two legs,

two arms, a head.

I was not close.

[squawking]

Keep your hands off that bird.

Well, he's yours.

[whistling]

[chirps]

Well, now, you're gettin' the hang of it.

I wish I knew what happened to Wilson.

He didn't say anything to you?

A few things about my being uncivilized.

I believe I mentioned tyranny to him.

Nothing about staying in town?

His bed wasn't slept in last night.

Maybe the man's leading a secret life.

I wish you'd had a better look at that stranger.

Well, it's this trouble with me tongue.

It's so long, it is, it steals the strength from me eyes.

Where's mac off to in such a hurry?

He's going to get the sheriff, Nick.

That's Wilson's horse.

The sheepherder found him near the mine. Wilson, too.

He's dead, Nick.

It probably was an accident.

He could've been thrown from his horse.

On the other hand, it could've been--

-Could've been the stranger. -Maybe.

This was found on him.

It's a copy of the telegram

that Wilson was sending to the British embassy.

Madigan!

There's no proof of that yet.

Well, it was Madigan, and it's all my fault.

Where do you think you're going?

Just take one guess.

And what will you do, Nick?

Go out and hogtie him and bring him in

just to have some $2 lawyer cut him loose?

Or maybe you'd like to string him up by his thumbs

till he says exactly what you want him--

Yes, I just might do that!

And that would be exactly wrong.

I say we play for time.

We simply say that the major was killed in a riding accident.

That'll give the sheriff and us time to check around.

If there was a stranger, believe me,

he left a trace somewhere.

Meanwhile, what about Madigan?

He's staying with us.

He has to feel safe.

And he could be innocent, you know.

Heh.

Just be sure you keep a watch

on that hair trigger of yours, Nick.

The major was a good man and a good friend,

but we don't want blood for blood.

All we want is the one who did it.

[humming]

This trap ain't waitin' for no dynamite. Let's go.

Get along, lads, I'll be right with you.

[humming]

[continues humming]

Madigan.

[humming]

Well, now, it's all there in your eyes.

You caught another eagle.

Just keep your hands right where I can see'em.

We found the major dead.

Now, now, think a minute.

It was not murder.

And I can see that's what you're thinkin'.

That's exactly what I'm thinkin',

and so is the sheriff by this time.

Now, are you gonna come peaceable,

or do you want me to drag you out of here?

Barkley, you've ways of persuasion.

But Patrick Madigan is an eagle of another sort,

and it's my home I prefer to go to,

and not any other.

What are you doin'?

[explosion]

NICK: Help!

Barkley?

[explosion]

[explosion]

Where's the boss?

-He's still in there. -Dead?

Well, if not, it's an ugly way to be going.

Get the picks and shovels. Let's go!

Shovels? Not in 100 years.

But dig, man, for what good it'll do.

Come on with the shovels!

He-- Help!

Help!

You hear that? He's still alive! Keep diggin'!

All right, hold up, boys.

You'll never reach him with a pick and shovel.

There's life in him yet. There's no time.

I thought you went for help.

I've got all the help I need right here.

All right, boys, take cover.

Give me one of them shovels, boys.

Help!

All right.

I'd best go in there alone.

One hearty sneeze might bring it all down again.

Well, I've come back for you, landlord.

Don't try to thank me.

Why, Madigan?

Why what?

Why didn't you keep runnin'?

Do you want me to stop now

and debate the foolish sentimentality of Patrick Madigan?

Why worry any more about me than...

Wilson?

Barkley...

I could never stand by and let an animal be caged

or a human being suffer in darkness.

You were trapped here without even a window

to watch a flight of birds,

and that's worse than any prison

I ever occupied and hated.

Now, this maudlin talk is only tolerable

with a tankard or three of beer,

so let's get out of here and develop a savage thirst.

Listen, Madigan, you--

Oh, I thought I'd humbled meself,

but all right, I'll carry you.

They're comin'!

Take that arm.

There you are.

Okay.

All right, give me a hand.

All right, get him to the mine office,

and one of you fetch a doctor.

Let's go.

All right, don't come any closer,

unless you like the taste of dynamite!

Just stay where you are!

Suppose you tell us what happened.

You'd never believe it.

Try us.

Patrick Madigan is not going to hang

or be put in a cage!

[shouting]

No!

Holy Mother.

It was just a piece of wood.

That's all it is.

Just a piece of wood.

Ben?

[squawking]

Good-bye, fella.

[squawks]

I wonder what it feels like.

I kind of know how it feels.

♪♪ [theme]