All language subtitles for 21 - The Tom Tuckett Story

MAJOR ADAMS: The story
of Tom Tuckett

properly belongs here,

along the banks
of the Caw River in 1854.

He was ten years old.

Not another sound,
you little devil,

or I'll cut your throat!

They're after me
with dogs, guns.

They don't need assistance
from the likes of you.

Now, mind you, not a sound!

You know what a file is?

Can you get one
and bring it here?

And some food.
I haven't eaten for two days.

You mind what I say.

You bring me
what I need, you hear?

Don't tell anybody
what you're doing...

or I'll creep into your house
in the dark of night

and roast you alive!

Go on!

What's your name, boy?

Speak up.

T-Tuck, sir.

Tuck? They did better
than that for you.

What's the rest of it?

Tom Tuckett.

What's your father do?

My father's dead, and my mother.

Who's raising you?

My sister.

I won't forget you, Tom.

Oh... sir, I wish you would.

You run along home, now, boy.

I won't bother you further.

My file! You kept my file!

Major Adams? Yes?

My name is Tuckett, Tom Tuckett.

Well, Tom Tuckett, I'm sure
glad to see you, my golly.

I was told to present
myself to you.

I've been expecting you
for a week.

My trip from New York took longer
than I would've believed possible.

I was told to buy you
a wagon and supplies

and get a driver for you.

And oh, yes.
Here, this'll tell you

where you're supposed to go
when you get to San Francisco.

Mm-hmm.

I don't suppose you're going to tell
me who made these arrangements.

Well, they were made
by an attorney in St. Louis.

Yes, they're always made
by an attorney somewhere.

I was given to understand

that your benefactor didn't want

his or her identity made known.

Just out of curiosity, Major,

do you know who it is?

Well, son, if I did
I wouldn't tell you.

I know.

It's always the same answer.

Well, your wagon's
right down here.

I'll show it to you.

You know, Major, when
I was still a youngster,

a lawyer suddenly appeared
at our home in Kansas

and told my sister

that I had
a mysterious benefactor

who wanted me
to be well educated

and have a good start in life.

Well, we asked then
who the benefactor was

and got the same answer
you just gave me.

That was 15 years ago.

It's a long time to be getting
the same frustrating answer.

Yes, I suppose it is,

but you don't seem
to have suffered any by it.

Oh, no, I can't say as I have.

I've been raised by a
series of schoolmasters.

I've had not only
the necessities,

but many of
the luxuries of life.

Well, here's another one
for you... your wagon.

Oh, it's very nice!

The driver I hired
is named Wes Ingall.

He's an old timer
and he's a good man.

Oh, yes, there's
some friends of yours

from your hometown
traveling with the train,

a Miss Stevenson and her niece.

Elizabeth! That's
the girl's name.

They're just four wagons
down if you want to see them.

You know, I wonder if Miss
Stevenson could be the...

Four wagons down.

Well, thank you, Major.

Is, uh, is this
the Stevenson wagon?

Tom! Elizabeth!

It's good to see you, Tom.

Elizabeth!

Well, is that all you have to
say to me after all these years?

Well... give me time!

I haven't seen you
since you were...

Well, how old were you
the last time

Miss Stevenson brought
you to New York?

Fourteen.

And you're going
to San Francisco, too?

Yes.

I can't believe it.

Do you remember the first thing
you ever said to me?

You told me I was
a common little laboring boy

with thick boots.

Well, I could hardly

say anything like that
about you now.

Anyway, I've learned
better manners.

I'm awfully glad to see you
again, Elizabeth.

Come in and see Miss Stevenson.

Can you imagine, going
to California at her age!

What made her decide to go?

Elizabeth? Coming,
Miss Stevenson.

She's been asking
for you every day.

How did she know I was coming?

Major Adams told us

when he found out we
were from the same town.

Hello, Miss Stevenson.

Well, Tuck.

Well, well.

So you're a man now.

You've improved
since you were a boy,

I'll say that for you.

Do you find him
improved, Elizabeth?

I find him charming.
Why wouldn't I?

Not so coarse and common, eh?

You're surprised to find us
here, aren't you?

Yes, I am.

I didn't think you'd
ever leave your house.

I didn't. I brought it with me.

Look about you.

One clock I used to watch
when I was young

stopped at the hour
when my heart stopped beating.

One candelabra.

It used to light the face
that turned toward mine

to remind me that light

can mask a hundred treacheries.

One pillow
on which I used to dream

to remind me that tears

are the scalding aftermath
of dreams.

These form the walls
that shut me in.

This is my house.
Look at it, Tuck.

It's what a man leaves a woman

if she's a silly creature
who loves and trusts!

But it was all so long ago!

Yes.

So long ago.

Yes, you've improved.

You've learned how to dress,

how to talk,

how to look at a woman.

He's learned more than that.

He's a lawyer now.

You had a benefactor, I am told.

I was hoping you
could tell me the name

of that benefactor,
Miss Stevenson.

And Elizabeth.

Would you say Elizabeth
had improved, Tuck?

I would say Elizabeth is more
beautiful than even my memories.

Then love her. Love her!

If she favors you, love her.

Don't. Please, don't!

I adopted her to be loved.

I bred her,
educated her to be loved.

Love her! Love her!

Love her!

Love her!

When she was young
and beautiful,

she stood waiting
in her wedding gown,

waiting and waiting and waiting.

Finally, when she realized,

she went into her room.

She shut the door
and drew the curtains.

And year after year
she sat there, hating

and withering away.

When I was first sent
to New York,

I thought perhaps
she'd made the arrangements.

She was the only one I
knew who had the means.

Why would she do it?

Well, she, uh..

She seemed to like me as a boy.

Like you?

She would destroy all men
if she thought she could.

Elizabeth, the last time
you were in New York,

I told you someday
I'd come after you.

We were children.

I've loved you from the
first moment I saw you.

I have no comprehension
of the word love.

It seems to me a delusion
that people grasp and cling to.

It has no reality.

When you find it,
it's the only reality.

I will never love anyone.

I've been brought up
without a heart.

I can't believe that's possible.

Then you're a fool.

Be warned, Tuck.

I do not desire love,

and I have no love to give.

I've been raised by a woman

who wanted me to learn
just one thing...

How to hurt,

and I've learned
that lesson very well.

The man who loves me
will pay for the man

who did not love her.

Forget me, Tuck,

and that's the kindest
thing I'll ever say to you.

Forget you!

I thought I'd found
a friend in you, Tuck.

If you're not my friend,

then I have no friend anywhere.

Then I'm your friend.

There must be honesty
between friends.

You hear those drums?

Yeah, they're Ottawa.

Ottawa, in this part
of the country?

They range from here to Canada.

They're sending word about us.

What kind of word?

That we're gonna be in the
territory for the next 20 moons.

What the Sam Hill
does that mean?

Means that somebody
wants to keep track of us.

Do you think there's
anything bothering them?

I don't know. I haven't seen
any sign of a war party,

but... wouldn't hurt

if I ride up ahead
and see what's going on.

Why don't you do that? I will.

Come on!

Colonel. Adams.

Uh, McCullough checking
on those drums?

Yeah.

Glad to go with him
if there's any trouble.

Well, Colonel, I think if
McCullough gets into any trouble,

he's a lot better off
alone than he would be

with a half a dozen of you
cavalry boys riding along.

Ah. Well, it's your outfit.

We're just passengers
like anyone else.

Wanted to say we're ready
to help in any way we can.

Thanks a lot. I hope we
don't have to call on you.

The message you are
waiting for has come.

Wagon train in Idaho country.

Good. I'm all ready.

You are in danger
if you cross the border.

It's been 15 years.

Army offer big bounty
for your capture.

Even among Indians it is known.

The army's forgotten
all about me by now.

Let the drum say that Black
Hawk, chief of the Ottawa,

begs all tribes to protect
the life of Burkett,

friend of all Indians.

Let the Sioux, the Comanche,

the Kiowa, the Cheyenne,

the Ottawa watch over
his journey,

and if he is in danger, let all
Indians rise up to protect him.

Watch him. Guard him!
Protect him!

And if need be, attack.

Well, you're dirtier
than I thought you was.

I'll have to boil you
a few more hours.

I didn't know
you were washing tonight.

Why didn't you tell somebody?

I'm just doing
my own personal things.

I'll be right back.

Never mind, never mind!

Hey, Charlie, I didn't know
it was a wash night.

It's not. A man can have a
little personal time, can't he?

I wondered why you
were so doggone quiet tonight.

Bill, don't you throw
them dirty things in.

I've been boiling
my clothes for hours.

Charlie, these clothes
aren't dirty.

You washed them
for me last month.

Stop it! Stay away
from my under-drawers.

A man's washtub is his castle.

What's all the ruckus?
What's going on?

Charlie's washing
clothes tonight.

Jumpin' Jehosephat! Wait for me!

Big blabbermouth!
Look out, Charlie.

Now you've gone
and fouled everything!

Doggone it!
Listen, don't forget...

Why, Charlie, this is yours.

Mine? That's a doggone
dirty trick.

Get away from
my wash-water there!

Now, Charlie, you're not
gonna refuse to share

your soap and water
with a buddy, are you?

Yes, I am! Nobody shares
their soap and water with me.

We don't have any to share,

but Bill, if we had
soap and water

we'd share with Charlie,
wouldn't we?

That's right,
Charlie's our little pal.

Yeah, but remember one thing...

Your little pal only has
two hands and two feet.

Two heads, too, Charles.

All right, keep it up.

Keep pouring salt
on a sore wound.

I'll run amok around here!

Charlie, you want your
friends to be clean, don't you?

You don't all have to be dirty
on the same night, do you?

One thing you can always
say about Charlie,

when he washes, he washes.

And when I quit, I quit!

Why don't you big bullies
pick on somebody your own size!

Well, I'll stir it for
him till he cools off.

Oh, drums again, huh?

Yeah, but these
are Comanche drums.

Hmm.

They say somebody
arrived at the camp.

Who arrived?

Who do they say arrived?

Evidently they know
more about it than I do.

They're just saying he arrived
safely over and over again.

He? That's what it says.

Well, at least it's
not a war party.

No, it isn't.

Maybe we'd better
check the camp anyway.

You take that side,
I'll take this side.

All right.

Hello, Seth.

Nat! Nat Burkett!

Why, you old son of a gun.

I should've known.

The minute I heard those
drums I should've known.

Oh, it's good...

Nat, you're a fool to come here.

I tried not to come.

I did my level best
to stay away,

but once I knew the boy

was on the train
I just had to come.

Seth, how'd he turn out?
What's he like?

Oh, he's a fine-looking boy.

I think he's in love.

But, Nat, you can't stay here.

I've got a bunch of cavalry
officers traveling with me.

Well, who's gonna remember
after all these years?

Who? Anybody that ever saw you!

Any of these men
ever serve with me?

How do I know? A couple
of them are senior officers.

They've been around a long time.

You don't think I'm going
back without seeing the boy?

You listen to me.

If the army ever gets
its hands on you again,

you're gonna hang.

I can never go to San Francisco.

You know that.

I may never get another
chance to see the boy.

Is it worth risking
your neck, your life?

Yes, it is.

What are you gonna tell the boy?

The truth.

All right.

His wagon's number 11,
up the line.

Thanks, Seth.

Don't thank me.
If there was any way

to stop you, I'd sure stop you.

If there's any trouble, I
won't let you get involved in it.

I'm not worried about me.
I'm worried about you.

Well, go on and see him
if you got to.

Get it over with, but you stay

out of sight of that cavalry,
you understand?

Tuck?

I-I'm sorry,
I don't quite place...

Sit down, boy.

Sit down.

This isn't an easy
moment for either of us.

Well, uh, if you don't mind,

I think some sort of
an explanation is in order.

What are you doing in my wagon?

What do you want?

I've wondered a hundred
times what we've have to say

when this moment
finally arrived.

Now... well, here it is,

and I don't know what to say.

Obviously you aren't
gonna be any help.

Well, who are you?

My name's Nat Burkett.

Am I supposed to
recognize that name?

Here, look.

I still have it.

Yeah.

That's the file
that you brought me.

I kept it all these years.

You're that convict,
the man I met in the marshes.

I told you
I wouldn't forget you.

Well, if, uh,

if you've looked me up
to thank me,

it really isn't necessary.

And, um, I'm-I'm
sure you understand,

I really can't wish
to renew our acquaintance.

Well...

You know, Tuck, my boy,
that never once occurred to me.

Look here, I'm sorry.

That sounded very rude
and harsh.

I didn't mean it that way.

Well, maybe it's
a disappointing welcome

after coming so far,
but you're not to blame.

Well, um, sit down.

Uh, how have you been living?

Oh, I've been making
an honest living.

I've got quite
a nice business in furs.

I live in Canada now.

Oh.

May I make so bold as to ask

how you've been
doing since we met

on those lonely,
shivering marshes?

How?

Yes, how.

Well, I, uh,
I came into some property.

Might a mere varmint
ask whose property?

Well, I don't actually
know that, either,

although I can't really see
that it's any of your business.

There was a guardian, I think.

There had to be a guardian
while you were a minor.

Was it a lawyer
named Pennyworth?

Y... ahem. Yes.

Then when Mr. Pennyworth died,

a Mr. Miles took over for him.

Y-You.

You!

Yes, laddie.
I made you a gentleman.

I swore the time
that you helped me

that sure as ever
I earned a dollar,

that dollar would go to you.

Uh, but why?!

I needed help,
and you gave it to me.

From then on, you were my son.

Your son?!

That's the way I felt about it.

Didn't you just once think
that it might be me?

Oh, no.

No, no. Never.

I got a nice business

for you in San Francisco,

a partnership in the
best law firm in town.

You'll be going
to San Francisco with me?

No, I can't do that.

I'm just gonna
ride along with you for

a day or two, and then
I've gotta go back.

Don't worry.

I didn't come here
to embarrass you

or cause you any trouble.

What do you expect
to get out of this?

Get out of this?

Well, yes.

You-You... you paid for my life,

planned it, laid it out
to suit yourself.

You must've had some purpose.

You must expect something.

All right, Tuck, my boy.

I'll tell you what I expect.

Satisfaction.

And how am I expected
to furnish this?

You've already done it.

You're a rare satisfaction, boy.

You've come a long way,

and you're going a long way.

And I did it.

When I was first over
the border in Canada,

I worked as a common laborer.

The quality would pass me by,

and I'd think, "I'm making

a better gentleman
than you'll ever be."

I may not be a gentleman,

but I'm the owner of such.

You're what I've made
of you, Tuck.

That's my satisfaction.

I see.

What you made of me.

I thought Miss Stevenson
was my benefactor.

I thought she'd sent me
away to be educated

because she wanted me
to marry Elizabeth.

Seems to me...
you're disappointed.

I hope you didn't let Nat
see what I see.

Well, how could I help it?

How would you like
to have a convict look

at you and say that he
made you, he owned you?

Convict? Heh.

That's a strange word
to apply to Nat Burkett.

Is it? The last time I saw him he
had a ball and chain around his...

And you were ten years old
and you brought him a file,

and for that he'll bless you
the rest of his life.

To repay you, he gave you
a life far and beyond

anything you had
a right to expect,

and because of that
you're disappointed,

you dislike him, you hate him.

Major Adams, I don't like myself

any more right now than you do.

Perhaps eventually I'll be able

to be grateful,
but at this moment...

Tuck, this is the most crucial
moment of your life, boy!

Suddenly all the loose ends
are pulled together.

You've got the answers
you've wanted so long.

Now you gotta face up
to those answers.

Let me tell you
something, sonny.

Miss Stevenson is not your
benefactor; she never was.

She's not your friend;
she never was.

She doesn't intend you to
marry Elizabeth; she never did.

As a matter of fact,
she's taking Elizabeth

to San Francisco
to marry somebody else.

Marry?

Yes.

That's not true.

She told me so herself.

That can't be true!

It is true, Tuck.

I'm going to San Francisco
to be married.

Well, why didn't you tell me?

I told you what I considered
to be far more important,

that I can never love anyone.

And you'd marry a man
you don't love?

Yes.

Then you are what
Miss Stevenson created.

Yes.

And I'm what a convict created,

a laboring boy
wearing the clothes

and the manners of a gentleman.

My life ends this moment.

No matter how long I may
live, my life is over now.

Tuck!

Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

Like I said, a man
only begins to live

when he discovers
the truth about himself.

My values have been false,

even my dreams false.

What else is left?

What's left is up to you.

As a matter of fact,
it's the only thing

that's been completely
left to you.

You asked for the truth;
you got it.

Now let's see what
you can do with it.

But to be taken over
like a piece of merchandise,

bought and paid for
by a common criminal.

And then to find...

Ned Burkett is
no common criminal.

Didn't he tell you
anything about himself?

About his past life, no.

Didn't he tell you
the risk he ran

coming here to see you?

Risk?

If he's caught
by the army, he'll hang.

What did he do?

In some people's eyes
he's a criminal...

Just tell me, Major.

But in other people's eyes,

and I number myself
among those people,

he's not only not a criminal,
he's a martyr.

What did he do?!

You'll have to ask him.

Major Adams told me you
took quite a risk in coming here.

I asked him what the charge
was against you,

and he said I'd have to ask you.

The charge, laddie?

The charge was treason.

Treason?

Yeah.

A couple of days
before you found me,

I'd been convicted
by army court martial.

Well, the charges
were false, of course.

No. I was guilty as charged.

You were guilty?

Yes. If I'd been sitting
on that board in judgment,

I would have had to pass down
the same verdict myself.

You may as well know
this too, laddie...

I'm unrepentant.

If time would've rolled back

and I had to face
those moments again,

I'd still do exactly the same.

Well, what did you do?

It's more than 15 years now.

I was a lieutenant
stationed at an army post

out here in the West.

Times were troubled.

They had treaties
with the Indians,

but they weren't paying
very much attention

to our side of the bargain.

The results were pretty much
what you might expect.

Washington men sent out
from the East

didn't know the first thing
about dealing with the Indians.

Things got steadily worse.

Finally, a major named Anderson
came out to take charge,

the most fanatical, sadistic man

you'd ever want to meet.

Washington sent me out
here to establish order,

and I intend to establish it.

Is that clear,
Lieutenant Burkett?

Yes, sir, perfectly clear.

We're not dealing
with human beings.

We're dealing with wild animals,

and that's the way
we're going to treat them.

Our scouts tell me
there's a Cheyenne village

two days' ride from here
at Stormy Creek.

Doesn't amount to very much.

Mostly women and children,

the old people,

maybe a few wounded bucks.

Order all available men
in the saddle at daybreak.

You're not planning to
attack a helpless village?

The Indians are going to find out
right now who's running this country.

Running it or annihilating it?

Lieutenant Burkett,

I do not allow insolence
in my command.

If you ever forget
yourself again,

you'll be on your way to Fort
Leavenworth under arrest.

Yes, sir.

Inform all companies.

We ride at daybreak.

Yes, sir.

Am I to believe
your warned your friends,

Lieutenant Burkett?

The village is empty, sir.

You contemptible traitor!

Arrest this man!

Arrest this man!!!

I escaped on my way

to the army prison
at Fort Leavenworth.

The guards on the prison wagon
hated Anderson.

Maybe they made it easy
for me to get away.

And there, on a foggy night

by that Kansas river,

a little boy saved my life.

After I left you,
I swam the river

and the Caw Indians
hid me in one of their villages.

Later on, they passed me
from village to village

until I ended up
with the Ottawas

on the other side
of the Canadian border.

I wonder, if I'd been
in your place,

if I'd have had your courage.

Thank you, Tuck, my boy.

Thanks.

What's the matter, Major,
don't you like your supper?

Oh, it's all right, Charlie.
It's fine stew.

Stew? Why, that's
prairie chicken a la Wooster.

I went out and shot it
especially for you.

If you're gonna keep your
strength, you gotta eat.

Charlie, you're not my mother.

I know, but I'm your cook,
and that's almost as bad.

Charlie, uh, you got
something good to eat?

Sure, and I'm glad somebody
around here has an appetite.

Fix me a plate,
will you? Sure will.

Major, I ran into
Colonel Bartlett.

He wanted to know who the new
man was on the Tuckett wagon.

What'd you tell him?

I told him to check with you.

Thanks.

Here's your supper, Flint.

Oh, thanks, Charlie.

Hey, Charlie! That's good stew.

Are you trying to be funny
or just plain insulting?

I said it was good stew.
What do you want?

That is prairie chicken,
not stew.

Well, everybody knows
prairie chicken

makes the best stew
in the world.

I know that,
but I'm getting tired

of everything I concoct
around here people calling stew.

Oh, I see. Charlie,
I didn't say it

to hurt your feelings. Good.

Nat, I tell you,
he's already asking questions.

All right, Seth,
I'll leave tonight.

I had a good look at
the colonel myself today.

I remember him, and there's

a good chance of
his remembering me.

Why?

He was the presiding
officer at my court martial.

Ooh.

Now, stop worrying, Seth.

I was born with nine lives.

Well, I hope you haven't
used them all up.

I'll make it back to Canada.

And I'm going with you.

You're going to San Francisco.

After I see you safe in Canada.

All right, boy.

We'll leave when the camp

settles down for the night.

Shall I read another chapter,
Miss Stevenson?

Elizabeth?

Yes?

I've come to say good-bye.

You're leaving the train?

Yes.

Will we see you
in San Francisco?

No, I don't think so.

I think...

at last I've come
to accept things

the way they really are.

What does that mean?

It means, Miss Stevenson,
you've won your victory.

I'm every bit as unhappy
as you could have wished.

You reproach me?

Did you expect kindness from me?

Who am I, in the name of heaven,
that I should be kind?

A lot of things have ended
for me in the last few days,

but I'm not going
to lock myself up

with my regrets
the way you have.

I don't think we'll meet again,

and so, in parting, I will
tell you for the last time...

I've loved you long and deeply.

I am sorry, Tuck.

I did try to warn you.

Warn me?

Well, why don't you try to
warn the wind to stop blowing,

the Earth to stop turning?

You have a lot to learn about
reality yourself, Elizabeth.

You can't change what is.

My love lives within me.

You can't command it to end,

no more than you could
command it to begin.

Then I have no
responsibility in the matter.

None whatsoever.

You can refuse to be
warmed by my love,

and you can refuse
to share my love,

but that's all.

It's mine, and mine alone.

It was born...

and will die within me.

No more talk, please. No more.

Seth. Hi, Colonel.

That, uh, that man
with the Tuckett wagon,

I just realized who he is.

That's Nat Burkett.

Oh, Nat, uh... Burkett.

You know the case.

Well, maybe you'd
better refresh me.

Colonel, you'd better be

mighty sure of your facts.

You haven't seen
Burkett in 15 years.

You say the record
plainly states

that he was drowned
in the Caw River.

Yes, but the body
was never recovered.

The case was cut and dried.
Burkett admitted his guilt.

It seems to me that there were

some extenuating circumstances.

Wasn't there a side
that was never heard?

What side?

The Indians' side.

The Indians' side?

Yes. Humanity's side.

You're an army man.
Are you taking Burkett's part?

No, I'm not,
but the way I see it

Burkett was taking
the army's part.

He kept the army
from making a mistake,

a tragic mistake.

He disobeyed
his superior officer.

You know the army
is run by regulations.

Yes, I know that,
and I also know

and so do you that
a situation can arise

that is so special
and so extraordinary

that the regulations
don't apply.

Sir. I'm sorry to interrupt,

Colonel, but Burkett
and the boy are gone.

Gone! One of the outriders
told me they left camp

about a half an hour ago.

You tell the men to saddle up.

We're going after
them. Yes, sir.

Colonel, uh, you know
this is Comanche territory,

and they have no love
for the army.

Burkett is guilty of treason.

He got away from me once.
He's not getting away again.

Excuse me.

If she was the girl I wanted,

I wouldn't give up so easily.

Well, it became a
question of facing reality,

accepting things
as they really are.

Accepting defeat
is what you really mean.

Is that what you learned at the
fancy law school I sent you to?

Yes. If you're defeated,
recognize it.

Balderdash!

And then you put it
out of your mind.

You go on to something else.

It's only logic.

Logic? I thought we were
talking about love.

Logic can and must be applied
to every human emotion,

and that includes love.

I've a good notion to ask
that school for a rebate.

"Logic can be applied
to every human emotion," indeed!

Well, it's advanced thinking,
I'll grant you.

Man is a human creature

with a divine right
to be illogical,

if he chooses. Mm-hmm.

Well, I don't choose.

Love is important, boy!

I wish you'd go back
and fight for yours.

No. That door's closed
behind me now.

Oh, I expect
to suffer for a time,

but I'm resolved to recover.

What is it? Wait.

I've gotta go back. Go back?!

Yeah. Cavalry's following us.

Indians are preparing an ambush.

You can't go back now.
You'll be captured!

Well, they'll be wiped out.

Then you'll be free.

With them
on my conscience? Oh, no.

Yeah, but they're after you.

All the more reason why I
should help them if I can!

Come on, boy. Giddy-up!

Hey, wait!

Hold your fire.

You all right?

Git up.

He came back to save you.

Never mind.

Are you Nathaniel Burkett?

He heard the drums.
He knew it was an ambush.

Yes, I'm Nathaniel Burkett.

Are you my prisoner, sir?

Or am I yours?

I'm your prisoner, if you like,

but I'm not certain
that any of us

will leave this place
alive today.

Let me talk to them.

I'm afraid I have no choice
at the moment.

I'm afraid you haven't.

I am Burkett!

Blood brother of Black Hawk,

chief of the Ottawa!

I address
the Seven Council Fires.

The mighty Sioux,
I ask for Red Cloud,

noble leader of a noble nation

to come forth
to talk in friendship.

I call for Bright Eagle,
noble chieftain of the Kiowa.

I ask for Bright Eagle
to come forth

to speak in friendship.

I call for Storm Cloud,
noble leader of the Comanches.

I ask for Storm Cloud
to come forth

to talk in friendship
with his brother.

The chieftains you
have summoned in friendship

face Burkett,
friend of all Indians.

I ask the five chieftains
to withdraw their men

and to permit these officers
to pass with safety.

If one arrow is sent
winging through the morning,

it will call back
a thousand bullets.

Not today, for nobody
knows better than you

how helpless these men are.

But I beg you
to consider tomorrow morning

and all the mornings to come
when bullets

will surely answer
this morning's arrow.

The Indian and the white man

must ride with safety
through the same forests

and rest without fear
beside the same rivers.

The world changes.
You must change with it,

or you will be swept
from the face of the Earth.

I ask the great chieftains
to consider these thoughts.

Black Hawk, chief
of the Ottawas,

has asked all the tribes
to protect the life of Burkett.

Is he ready to leave
this valley with us?

No. I have some unfinished
business with the army.

Is it the wish of Burkett
that his brothers withdraw

and he remain here?

It is.

I speak
for the Cheyenne, the Comanche,

the Sioux, the Kiowa,

the Ottawa.

We would have
the white man's army

know that we have
no fear of their bullets

or their tomorrow,

if it is to be
that tomorrow is theirs.

But this day is ours

and we will surrender it
because it has been asked for

in the name of friendship
by Burkett,

a white man who knows
the honor of the word.

We will leave as he has asked,

but we will ask
of the white man's army

this one thing:

the life of Burkett,
a man of peace.

Are these your terms?

Terms?! Let there be
no talk of terms.

You are not
in a position to bargain.

We have agreed
to Burkett's wish.

We will go.
We will permit you to go.

But before we part,
we beg for his life

that we may know there
is kindness in the white man,

that we may know there
is justice, too,

that we may know
that a man who has shown

there can be so much good
in the white man

will not be punished
for that goodness.

I believe the record states
that Nathaniel Burkett

drowned in the Caw River.

Up! Come on!

Well, I guess this
is where we say good-bye.

And I was gonna see
you safely to Canada.

The thought's appreciated,

but I want you to get on
with your own life.

I'm grateful for the things
I've learned from you.

Learned? You're the gentleman.

You're the one
with the book learning.

Mm-hmm. I have
the book learning,

and you have the knowledge.

And you have wisdom and courage.

I just hope I can
measure up to you.

Thank you, son.

No son could love
a father any more,

and as for my being a gentleman,

there is no finer
gentleman anywhere

than you are.

Tuck, I'm so glad you came back.

Are you really glad, Elizabeth?

I was in error
when I said I had no heart.

When I saw you ride away

I realized how sadly
in error I was.

Things are beginning
to look better around here,

and that's good.

Will it be all right
for them now?

I didn't ruin their lives?

You almost did,
and so did Nat Burkett,

except his intentions
were the best in the world.

You just can't live other
people's lives for 'em.