All language subtitles for The.Searchers.1956.1080p.BluRay.x265-RARBG

Ethan?

Quiet, Prince.

That's your Uncle Ethan.

Welcome home, Ethan.

Lucy. You ain't much bigger
than when I last saw you.

I'm Deborah.
There's Lucy over there.

Deborah. Debbie.

-And you're Lucy?
-Yeah, I'm Lucy.

I'm mighty glad to see you,
Uncle Ethan.

She's got a fella. Kisses him too.

-Ben, would you--?
-That's enough.

Go on with Lucy
and help with supper.

Deborah, you too. Ben.

I was just gonna ask Uncle Ethan
what he's gonna do with his saber.

Well, I kind of figured to give it to you.

Thanks. Thanks, Uncle Ethan.

-How was California?
-California? How should I know?

-Well, Mose Harper told us--
-Mose Harper?

Is that old goat still creaking around?

Why ain't somebody bury him?

No, I ain't been to California.

Don't intend to go either.

Supper will be ready
as soon as you wash up.

Let me take your coat for you, Ethan.

Welcome home, Ethan.

Thanks, Aaron.

Marty, here's Uncle Ethan.

Debbie, sit down.

Evening, Uncle Ethan.
Welcome home, sir.

Martin. Martin Pawley.

I'm sorry for being late, Aunt Martha.

Uncle Aaron.

Fella could mistake you
for a half-breed.

Not quite. I'm eighth Cherokee.
And the rest is Welsh and English.

-At least that's what they tell me.
-Grown some.

It was Ethan who found you,
squalling under a sage clump. . .

. . .after your folks had been massacred.

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

Thank you, Lucy.

Good night, Aunt Martha.

Good night, Martin.

Uncle Aaron.
- Good night, Martin.

Good night, Uncle Ethan.
- Good night.

Come on, Ben.

Night, Ma. Night, Pa.

Uncle Ethan,
will you tell us about the war?

The war ended three years ago, boy.

It did? Then why didn't you
come home before now?

Ben, go on with Martin. March.

Uncle Ethan, Lucy's wearing
the gold locket you gave her. . .

. . .when she was a little girl.

She don't wear it much on account
of it makes her neck green.

-Deborah.
-Well, it does.

But I wouldn't care
if you gave me a gold locket. . .

. . . if it made my neck green or not.

-A gold locket.
-Debbie.

Lucy, where are my saddlebags?

Ooh !

Look at my gold locket!

Oh, it is pretty.

-Ethan, I think she's too young--
-Oh, let her have it.

- It doesn't amount to much.
- Bed, young ladies.

-Yes, Daddy.
-Thank you, Uncle Ethan.

Come along to bed.

Passed the Todd place coming in.
What happened?

Gave up, quit,
went back to chopping cotton.

So did the Jamisons.

Without Martha. . . .

She just wouldn't let a man quit.

Ethan, I saw it in you before the war.

You wanted to clear out.

You stayed beyond any real reason.
Why?

- Aaron, please--
You asking me to clear out now?

You're my brother, Ethan.
You're welcome to stay. . .

. . .as long as you have a mind to.
That right, Martha?

-Of course it is.
-I expect to pay my way.

There's 60 Double Eagles in there.

And twice that much here.
Yankee dollars.

That's fresh minted.

-There ain't a mark on it.
-So?

Aaron, open up! It's Sam Clayton.

Aaron.

-Reverend. Come on in !
-Good morning, Aaron.

-Good morning, Sister Edwards.
-Good morning, Reverend.

-Morning, Ben and Debbie.
-Good morning, Charlie.

-What is it, Reverend?
-Lars says somebody. . .

. . . busted in his corral last night
and run off his best cows.

Yeah. Next time I raise pigs, by golly!

You never hear anyone
running off pigs, I bet you.

-Coffee's ready if you'd like some.
-Coffee will be just fine. Morning, Lucy.

-Morning, Reverend.
-Debbie, you been baptized yet?

-No, sir. No.
-Aaron, get Martin.

-Martin !
-Oh, thank you, sister.

I can sure use that coffee.
Pass the sugar, son.

Fine, fine. Wait a minute, sister.

I didn't get any coffee yet. Just--
Oh, doughnuts. Thank you, sister.

I'm sure fond of them doughnuts.

Aaron ! Martin, come on up here.

Come on. Raise your right hand--
Martin.

-Yes, sir.
-Raise your right hand.

You are hereby voluntary privates
in Company A of the Texas Rangers.

- You will faithfully--
Sir, can I go with you?

-Go get my shirt, boy.
-Shh ! Quiet!

- Where was I?
- "Faithfully fulfill."

-You will faithfully discharge--
-Mrs. Edwards--

Shut up!

You will faithfully discharge
your duties as such. . .

. . .without a recompense
or monetary consideration.

Amen. That means "no pay."
Better get a shirt on, Aaron.

I ain't volunteering
till I've had coffee.

-Drink your own, Reverend.
-Just call me "captain."

Captain. The Reverend
Samuel Johnson Clayton.

Mighty impressive.

Well, the prodigal brother.

When did you get back?
I ain't seen you since the surrender.

Come to think of it,
I didn't see you at the surrender.

Don't believe in surrenders.
Nope, I still got my saber, Reverend.

Didn't turn it into
no plowshare neither.

The Injuns did it, Mrs. Edwards.

Caddos or Kiowas.
Old Mose knows. Yes, sir.

-Oh, shut up, Mose.
-Thank you.

- My cattle's been--
Ethan, I'm counting on you. . .

. . .to look after things
while I'm gone.

-You're not going.
-He sure is going.

-I already swore him in.
-Well, swear him out again.

- I'll go with you.
- I don't think I should--

Stay close, Aaron.
It might be this is rustlers.

Might be that this doddering
old idiot ain't so far wrong.

Could be Comanche.

Kind words, Ethan.
Thank you kindly.

Children, go with Lucy.

-Oh, Ma, I want--
-Ben.

Comanche, huh?

All right. I'll swear you in.

No need to.
Wouldn't be legal anyway.

Why not? You wanted
for a crime, Ethan?

-Coffee, Ethan.
-Thank you, Martha.

You asking me as a captain
or a preacher, Sam?

I'm asking you as a Ranger
of the sovereign state of Texas.

- You got a warrant?
- You fit a lot of descriptions.

Figure a man's only good
for one oath at a time.

I took mine
to the Confederate States of America.

So did you, Sam.

Stay close, Aaron.

Well, thank you, Mrs. Edwards.
We have to be going.

Thank you, Mrs. Edwards.

Grateful to the hospitality
of your rocking chair, ma'am.

Brad and Lucy, Lucy and Brad!

Brad and Lucy, Lucy and Brad!

Debbie and Ben Edwards,
I'm gonna tell Ma on you !

Brad ! Right ahead !

Uncle Ethan.

Something mighty fishy
about this trail, Uncle Ethan.

Don't call me "uncle."
I ain't your uncle.

Yes, sir.

No need to call me "sir" either.

Nor "grandpa," nor "Methuselah."

I can whup you to a frazzle.

-What do you want me to call you?
-Name's Ethan.

Now, what's so mighty fishy
about this trail?

- Well, first off--
Look! Look!

Pa!

Reverend !

Look!

Caddos or Kiowas, huh?

Ain't but one tribe uses a lance like that.

Hey, Pa, your prize bull.

Killed every one of them.

Not for food either.
Why'd they do a thing like that?

Stealing the cattle
was just to pull us out.

This is a murder raid.

Shapes up to scald out either
your place or my brother's.

Mama! Laurie!

Oh, please, God, please, no!

Brad ! Brad ! Son !

Jorgensen's place is the closest, Ethan.

If they're not there, we'll come
straight on to you. Come on, Charlie.

You do that.

Well, are you coming or ain't you?

That farm's 40 miles from here, boy,
and these horses need rest and grain.

Ain't Caddos, ain't Kiowas.
Comanches, sure!

-Break out the grain.
-Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

Quiet, boy.

Think I'll see if I can't take off
a couple of sage hens before supper.

Yes, you do that, Aaron.

-My, the days are getting shorter.
-Lucy, we don't need a lamp yet.

Let's just enjoy the dusk.

It's all right, Ma. I been watching.

-Only--
-What, Ben?

I wish Uncle Ethan was here.
Don't you, Ma?

Close that shutter, Ben, like--
Good boy.

-Ma, I can't--
-Lucy!

We are going to play
the sleep-out game.

Remember? Where you hide out
with Grandma?

-Where she's buried?
-And you creep along the ditch. . .

-. . .very quietly, like--
-Like a little mouse.

Hurry up, Martha.
The moon's fixing to rise.

You won't make a sound or come back,
no matter what you hear.

-Promise?
-I promise.

Wait. Can't I have Topsy?

-There's no time. There's no time.
-Here she is, baby.

Here.

Now, down low. Run !

Baby!

Prince, go back. Go back, Prince.

Go back. Prince! Go back.
Go back, Prince!

Prince, go back. Go back, Prince!
Prince!

Uncle Ethan !

Uncle Ethan.

Wait a minute, Uncle Ethan.

Next time, you'll mind
your Uncle Ethan.

-Thank you kindly.
-Wait, Mose! We can ride double, Mose!

Mose, wait!

Mose!

Martha! Martha!

Aunt Martha.

Aunt Martha.

-Let me in.
-Don't go in there, boy.

-I wanna see them. Let me in, I wanna--
-Don't go in.

Don't let him look in there, Mose.

Won't do him any good.

Lucy! Debbie!

-Put an "amen" to it!
-I'm not finished yet.

There's no more time
for praying. Amen !

Brad, Martin !

Amen.

Ethan, those girls mean as much to me
as though they were my own.

Maybe you don't know that my Brad's
been sitting up with Lucy. My Laurie's--

I'd be obliged
if you'd come to the point, ma'am.

Just that I know
that Martha would want you. . .

. . .to take care of her boys
as well as her girls.

And if the girls are dead, don't let
the boys waste their lives in vengeance.

Promise me, Ethan !

Well, come on, if you're going with us.

Captain ! Captain Clayton !

Another one, huh?
Gimme a hand, Charlie.

This one come a long way
before he died, captain.

Well, Ethan, there's another one
you can score up for your brother.

-I don't like it!
-What don't you like?

Injuns on a raid
generally hide their dead.

And if they don't care anything
about us knowing. . .

. . . it only spells one thing:

They ain't afeard of us following
or of us catching up with them either.

You can back out
any time you want, Nesby.

Ethan, I didn't say that!

Didn't say such !

Easy, Nesby, easy.

Jorgensen !

Why don't you finish the job?

-What good did that do you?
-By what you preach, none.

But what that Comanche believes. . .

. . .ain't got no eyes,
he can't enter the spirit land.

Has to wander forever
between the winds.

You get it, Reverend.
Come on, blanket head.

All right, boys. Let's mount up.

They're camped by the river,
about 20 miles from here.

We'll wait till dark, then circle out
so we can jump them before daylight.

You right sure you wanna
jump them, Ethan?

That's what we came for, ain't it?

I thought we were trying
to get them girls out. Alive.

We jump them Comanche,
they'll kill them. You know that.

Well, what are we doing, then, Reverend?
What are we supposed to do, Ethan?

Well, what I had in mind
was maybe running off their pony herd.

A Comanche on foot's more apt
to be willing to listen.

I think the reverend's right,
don't you?

You think the reverend's. . . .

What does a quarter-breed Cherokee
know about the old Comanche trick. . .

. . .of sleeping with his best pony
tied right by his side?

You got about as much chance
of stampeding that herd as--

As you have of finding them girls alive
by raiding into them.

I say we do it my way, Ethan.
And that's an order.

Yes, sir.

But if you're wrong. . .

. . .don't ever give me another!

Well, they was here.
- Sure. They was here.

And now they're out there,
waiting to jump us.

Any more orders, captain?

Yes. We'll keep on going.

Well?

You wanna quit, Ethan?

That'll be the day.

-Horses.
-Horses.

Keep on going.

Keep moving. Keep moving.

Well, Reverend, looks
like you got yourself surrounded.

Yeah, and I figure on getting myself
un-surrounded.

Mose, how far is the river?

I've been baptized, Reverend.
I've been baptized.

-Shut up, you old fool.
-Thank you kindly. Thank you.

You better get yourself
set for another one. . .

. . . because when I holler, I want you
to move out of here like Billy B. Jigger.

Let's go!

- Take it easy, Nesby.
- You'll be all right, Nesby.

Keep them on
the other side of the river.

I'll do the telling, Ethan !

Well, then tell them !

-Take it easy, Nesby.
-You'll be all right, Nesby.

Come on, come on.

There.

Here's my Bible. Hold it.

Make you feel good.

Thank you, Reverend.
Thank you very kindly.

Ethan, you figure they'll charge us?

-Are you asking me?
-I am.

Thank you.

Yep. Death song.

War chief, he's gotta, to save face.

Yes, sir. He'll be right in your lap
in a minute, sonny.

For that which we are about to receive,
we thank thee, O Lord.

You got him, Marty!

Hallelujah !

Dag blast it!

Watch it. It's loaded.

No, Ethan. Leave them
carry off their hurt and dead.

Well, Reverend, that tears it!

From now on,
you stay out of this, all of you.

I don't want you with me.

I don't need you
for what I gotta do.

Well, Edwards, I. . . .

I guess you're right.
We gotta get Nesby back.

It's a job for a whole company
of Rangers. . .

. . .or it's a job for one or two men.

Right now, we're too many
and not enough.

Me, I'm going on alone.

-Any objections?
-Good luck.

There's only one way you can stop me
from looking for Lucy, mister.

And that's kill me!

That's the way I feel, Uncle Eth--

Ethan, sir.

All right.
But I'm giving the orders, hear?

I'm giving the orders.

And you'll follow them
or we're splitting up right here and now.

Well, sure, Ethan.

Just one reason we're here, ain't it?
That's to find Debbie and Lucy?

If they're still alive.

Mount up.

They gotta stop sometime.

If they're human men at all,
they gotta stop!

No. Human rides a horse until it dies,
then he goes on afoot.

Comanche comes along, gets that
horse up, rides him 20 more miles. . .

. . .then eats him.

Easy on that.

Sorry.

We don't even know
if Debbie and Lucy's in this bunch.

-Maybe they split up.
-They're with them, all right. . .

-. . . if they're still alive.
-You've said that enough !

Maybe Lucy's dead.
Maybe they're both dead.

But if I hear that from you again,
I'll fight you, Mr. Edwards!

That'll be the day.

Spread out.

Found a main trail. . .

. . . but four of them cut out right here and
they rode on up through the pass there.

How come they do that, Ethan?

I'll take a look.
Keep after the others.

-You want us to fire a shot, just in--?
-No. Nor build bonfires, nor beat drums.

I'll meet you on the far side.

Move!

You want some water, Ethan?

Trail leads over there.

Why'd they break off?

Was there water in that canyon?

Huh?

No water.

Are you all right, Ethan?

I'm all right.

Hey.

What happened to your
Johnny Reb coat? Did you lose it?

Must have.

But I'm not going back for it.

I found them !

I found Lucy!

They're camped about a half-mile over.

I was just swinging back
and I seen their smoke.

Bellied up a ridge, and there they was,
right below me.

-Did you see Debbie?
-No. No, but I saw Lucy, all right.

-She was wearing that blue dress--
-What you saw wasn't Lucy.

-Oh, but it-- It was, I tell you.
-What you saw was a buck. . .

. . .wearing Lucy's dress.

I found Lucy back in the canyon.

Wrapped her in my coat.

Buried her with my own hands.

Thought it best to keep it from you.

Did they. . .?

-Was she. . .?
-What do you want me to do?

Draw you a picture?
Spell it out?

Don't ever ask me!

Long as you live,
don't ever ask me more.

Brad. I'm awful sorry, Brad.

Hey, Brad--
Brad, wait a minute! Brad !

Wait! Come back here, Brad !

Brad, come back here!

Well, why don't you say it?

We're beat, and you know it.

Nope.

Our turning back don't mean nothing.

Not in the long run.

If she's alive, she's safe.

For a while. They'll keep her. . .

. . .they'll raise her
as one of their own until. . . .

Till she's of an age to. . . .

Well, do you think maybe there's
a chance we still might find her?

Injun will chase a thing
till he thinks he's chased it enough.

Then he quits.

Same way when he runs.

Seems like he never learns
there's such a thing as. . .

. . .a critter who'll just keep coming on.

So we'll find them in the end,
I promise you.

We'll find them.

Just as sure as the turning
of the Earth.

-Hi, Ethan.
-Hello, sir.

-Hi, Marty.
-How are you, sir?

Marty.

You got my letter
about your son Brad?

Yeah. Just about this time a year ago.

Oh, Ethan, this country. . . .

Marty?

Martin Pawley!

Him probably forgetting all about you.

Probably can't even
call your name to mind.

Her name's Laurie.

But I fairly forgot
just how pretty she was.

Ethan.

What about Debbie?

Hey, what are you doing anyway?

Hey, don't go taking that stuff!

Well, it ain't worth the mending.

What are you getting so red
in the face about? I got brothers.

Yeah, well, I ain't one of them.

Now, lookie here, Martin Pawley,
I'm a woman.

We women wash and mend
your dirty clothes all your lives.

When you're little,
we even wash you.

How you can make out to be bashful
in front of a woman, I'll never know.

You talk like a feller
just might as well run around naked.

Wouldn't bother me none.

Sure wouldn't try it
in front of Pa, though, if I was you.

We kept tracking them
till the blizzards hit.

Then we lost their trail.

No need to tell you where we went.

Fort Richardson, Wingate, Cobb.

Anadarko Agency.

Trouble is, we don't know which band
the war party belonged to.

Well, you did all a body could, Ethan.

-I got your boy killed.
-Don't go blaming yourself for that.

It's this country killed my boy.

-Yes, by golly, I tell you, Ethan--
-Now, Lars. . .

. . . it just so happens we be Texicans.

Texican is nothing but a human man
way out on a limb. This year and next. . .

. . .and maybe for a hundred more.
But I don't think it'll be forever.

Someday this country's gonna be
a fine, good place to be.

Maybe it needs our bones in the ground
before that time can come.

Bedtime.

She was a schoolteacher, you know.

Ma, Marty's drawers is a sight. Could
we give him some of Brad's things?

Of course.
They're in Grandma's chest.

-Ethan, you'll sleep in the bunkhouse.
-By golly, the letter!

In the Sweden chest.

It come for you, Ethan. Last winter.
Charlie MacCorry brought it.

I'm looking for that letter
Charlie MacCorry. . . .

By jiminy.

Here it is. By golly, I forgot.

Excuse me.

Mrs. Jorgensen, take a look at this.

-Just a snip of calico.
-Ever see it before?

Maybe on a dress Debbie wore?

Why, yes. Yes, it was an apron.

Ethan, have they found her yet?

Not yet.

Not yet.

You might at least
have left me my britches!

It's time for bed anyway.

-Here, try these on.
-I ain't gonna.

Well, likely they'll need some taking in.

Marty, you're that gaunted. Ma's having
a turkey for dinner tomorrow--

Laurie? Laurie, come.
Let the boys get to bed.

All right, Pa.

-Good night, Marty.
-Good night, Laurie.

-Night, Mr. Edwards.
-Night, Miss Jorgensen.

Jorgensen's been running
my cattle with his own.

Your cattle?

You mean Debbie's cattle.

He's agreed to take you on and split
the increase in my herd while I'm gone.

I'm pushing on tomorrow.

Well, I sure ain't gonna stay here.
I started out looking for Debbie. . .

-. . . I intend to keep on.
-Why?

Why?

-Well, because she's my--
-She's your nothing.

She's no kin to you at all.

Well, I always
kind of thought she was.

The way her folks took me in,
they raised me--

-That don't make you no kin.
-All right, maybe it don't.

-But I intend to keep on looking anyway.
-How?

You got any horses
or money to buy them?

You ain't even got money
for cartridges.

Jorgensen's offering you
a good living here.

Martin, there's something
I want you to know--

Yeah, I know
what you want me to know.

That I got no kin,
I got no money, no horses!

All I got here is a bunch
of dead man's clothes to wear!

Well, you told me that already,
so shut your mouth !

-Morning, Laurie.
-Morning, Martin. Did you sleep well?

Well, no, I. . . .

I kind of tossed and turned. . .

. . .and dreamed.

I'll get your coffee.

You know, Laurie, I. . . .

I was just thinking that. . .

. . . maybe it's about time you and me
started going steady, huh?

Martin Pawley, you and me been
going steady since we was 3 years old.

-We have?
-About time you found out about it.

Well, gosh, Laurie,
I've always been fond of you. . .

. . . but, well, with all this trouble
with Debbie and Ethan, I--

Ethan rode on an hour ago.

Martin, I don't know what you can
do about finding Debbie that he can't.

He'll find her now, Martin.
Honest, he will !

That's what I'm afraid of, Laurie.

Him finding her.

Oh, I've seen his eyes
at the very word "Comanche."

I've seen him take his knife and. . . .

Never mind.
He's a man that can go crazy wild. . .

. . .and I intend to be there
to stop him in case he does.

I was hoping I could hold you here,
but I guess I knew better.

Here.

I stole that for you.

"I bought a--"

Oh, here, let me read it for you.

"I bought a small-sized dress
off a Injun.

If this here's a piece of your
child's dress, bring reward.

I know where they gone.

-Jerem Futterman."
-Jerem Futterman?

Well, Laurie, he's got a small trading
post on the south fork of the Brazos.

I just gotta get a horse!
Do you think your Pa--?

-Finish your breakfast!
-But, Laurie, I gotta find him !

-All right, go on and find him !
-Oh, Laurie, don't you understand?

Laurie, that's your own good horse.
That's Sweetface.

You take him, and welcome!

But don't you count on
finding me here when you get back.

I been hanging around
this godforsaken windscour. . .

. . .for two long years waiting for you.
I ain't cut out to be no old maid.

Well, I'm sorry, Laurie.
But I just gotta catch up with Ethan.

Well, go ahead
and catch up with him, then !

-Futterman?
-Yeah?

Let's talk.

-You sent me a letter.
-Yeah?

About a dress.

How'd you come by it?

-You said there'd be a $1 000 reward.
-That's what I said.

Got it with you?

You'll get the reward when
I find her and if she's still alive.

A man's got a right to expect
some kind of payment.

I laid out for that dress
and sending you that writing.

-Twenty Yankee dollars.
-And a man's time is worth something.

Talk.

A young buck fetched it in
late last summer.

Said it belonged to a captive child
of Chief Scar.

Scar? We ain't never heard of him,
have we?

Me neither. But this buck
claimed he was a big war chief. . .

-. . .with the Nawyecky Comanches.
-Keep talking.

Scar's band was headed north to winter
in at Fort Wingate, eating agency beef.

That's what this buck said.
Maybe he lied.

Maybe you lie.

In that case, my friend,
you won't find her. . .

. . .and I won't get my $1 000.

Look, you can spend the night.

-Cards, a jug. And if you'd like to--
-No, thanks.

Don't forget to come back
with my $1 000.

It ain't yours yet.

Hey, Ethan?

Do you have a feeling
that maybe we're being followed?

That's the Injun in you.
Go to sleep.

Them horses there,
they sure act mighty nervous.

Well, they smell
a change in the weather.

Oh, now, come on, Ethan !
Don't put any more wood on the fire.

-I'm burning up.
-We might get a frost before morning.

Anyway, I'm getting like
old Mose Harper.

My bones is cold tonight.

You know, it's funny. . .

. . . but last winter,
when we passed through Fort Wingate. . .

. . . I don't have any recollection
of a mention of Nawyecky Comanche.

Not so funny when you recollect
what "Nawyecky" means.

-What's that?
-Sort of like "roundabout."

Man says he's going one place,
means to go tother.

Oh, come on, now, Ethan,
don't put any more wood on the fire!

I'm burning up.

-Comfortable?
-Ethan, are you all right?

Well, I'm just saying
good night to you.

Well, good night.

- Good night.
- Well, good night.

Futterman.

Thanks. You did fine.

Why, that's Mr. Futterman.

Ethan, what are you doing anyway?

Getting my money back, you idiot.
What do you suppose?

We did all right.

"We"? Why, you just staked me
out there like a piece of bait!

You went and built up the fire, you fixed
it so I could get my brains blowed out!

What if you had missed?

Never occurred to me.

Come on, let's get out of here.

Whoa.

Howdy, Mr. Jorgensen.

-Charlie!
-Got me a letter here.

By golly, a letter?

It's for Miss Laurie.

Two letters in one year, by golly!

Mama! Mama! It's Charlie MacCorry.

He's come with a letter and
he's come a-courting, too, by golly!

Come on.

-Good morning, Charlie.
-Howdy, Mrs. Jorgensen.

Laurie, here's a letter for you.
Charlie brought it.

I figured it might be the news
you been waiting for, so I--

-Well, thank you, Charlie.
-You're welcome.

-Say, I brung you some boiled sweets.
-Why, thank you, Charlie.

Come on, let's sit down and get
comfortable while Laurie reads the letter.

I reckon I really ought to be going--

-No, sit down, Charlie.
-No, no, you stay, Charlie. After all. . .

. . .Charlie brought the letter, Laurie.
He's got a right to listen too.

-I'll sit a spell.
-Come on, Laurie, read the letter.

-Oh, Ma, it's my letter.
-Of course it is, dear. But read it.

Go ahead. Read it.

Please.

"Dear Miss Laury--"

Spelled it with a Y
instead of an I-E.

-You'd think he'd know better.
-Oh, spelling, please.

What's the difference?
Read the letter.

"Dear Miss Laury,
I take pencil in hand to let you know. . .

. . . Ethan and me still are trying
to catch up with them Comanches. . .

. . .the late Mr. Futterman
told us about."

The late Mr. Futterman.

That means Mr. Futterman is dead,
by golly.

-Oh, the poor man. Go ahead, Laurie.
-Yeah.

"We cut north through Indian
territory and did not have no trouble. . .

. . .finding Kiowas and Wichitas. . .

. . .and even some Comanches. . .

. . .camped by one of the agencies.

But none of them was Nawyeckys. . .

. . . nor claimed to know
a war chief called Scar."

Scar.

"He's the one the late
Mr. Futterman said had Debbie.

At one of the agencies, we outfitted. . .

...with all kind and manner
of trade goods. . .

...figuring that'd make it easier
for us to come and go.

You'd laugh if l told you
what was our biggest seller."

Let's go. I think I stumbled
onto something.

Scar? You found him?

When are you gonna learn
to keep your big mouth shut?

Get your horse. Let's get out of here.

-I just bought me a good blanket--
-Forget it. Move!

What I heard back there was
that a band of hostile Comanche. . .

. . .came through less than a week ago.

I asked if there was
a white girl with them.

They got sullen and suspicious.

-Do you--? Think it might have been--?
-I don't know.

What's she following us for?

Oh, you-- You go on back now. Go on.

Oh, look, I changed my mind.
You can keep your blanket.

Oh, look, you don't understand.
I don't want it!

You don't understand, you chunk head.

You didn't buy any blanket.

You bought her.

You got yourself a wife, sonny.

Oh, no. Ethan, you tell her
to get on back there.

What? And have her whole family
after our scalps. . .

. . .for flaunting one of
their womenfolk? No, sir.

Come on, Mrs. Pawley.

Come on, Mrs. Pawley.
Join our merry crew.

"Mrs. Pawley"?

Oh, no.

"There is one other thing
I got to tell you. . .

. . . before you hear it from Ethan.

How I got myself. . .

. . .a wife."

-He did?
-Good !

A young man should get married
early in life. Right, Mama?

-Go ahead and read the letter, Laurie.
-Yeah.

"A little Comanche squaw--"

Squaw!

-Laurie, you ought to be spanked !
-Laurie, you come back. . .

-. . .and read the letter. Come on, now.
-This is a shame.

Come on back and read it. Please.

Mama, here. You read the letter.

Charlie, my wife, she was
a schoolteacher. She reads good.

I'll read it.

So he married a Comanche squaw.

By golly.

"She wasn't near as old as you."

How old does he think I am?!

Hey, look, coffee. Me, coffee.

Could I have a little, Mrs. Pawley?

Yes, sir.

Looks like Mrs. Pawley's
gonna make you a fine, dutiful wife.

Oh, cut it out, will you?

Oh, look. I sure do wish
I could make you understand.

Look?

Look.

She says her name is
Wild Goose Flying in the Night Sky.

But she'll answer to "Look"
if that pleases you.

You know, that's grounds
for divorce in Texas.

You're really rough !

Well, I don't think
it's so dadburn funny.

Look, if you really wanna do some good,
why don't you ask her where Scar is?

She heard you.

-You ask her.
-Look, Scar?

Do you know where he went?

Did he have a girl with him?
A white girl?

No. No, not a woman. It's--

Sister.

Martin !

Look's gone.

Pulled out in the night.

Well, she ain't going back to her family,
that's for certain.

She took off the way
that arrow's pointing.

Well, think maybe
we ought to follow her?

How should I know?

She's your wife.

Maybe she left
other signs for us to follow....

"--but we'll never know. . .

. . . because it snowed that day
and all the next week."

We were heading north
through buffalo country...

...when something happened that
l ain't got straight in my own mind yet.

But on this day
we sighted a small herd.

See, we needed some meat...

...so we circled round
and come up on them afoot.

-Ethan, don't make no sense.
-Hunger! Empty bellies!

That's the sense it makes,
you blanket head !

You need to stop it!

At least they won't feed
any Comanche this winter.

-Ethan, listen ! Listen !
-Killing buffaloes is like killing Injuns.

-You just gotta--
-Listen !

Come on !

lt was the Nawyecky
Comanche, all right.

The ones we'd been looking for
all this time.

Marty.

It's Look.

Look?

What did them soldiers have to kill
her for? She never done nobody harm.

We gotta catch up with them.
Maybe they've got Debbie.

Maybe they got that chief
they call Scar.

So we figured Debbie
had been in the village.

What Look was doing there,
whether she'd come to warn him...

...or maybe to find Debbie for me,
there's no way of knowing.

- Come on, move along.
- Go on there. Go on up there.

Come on, move along there.
Hurry up, move along now.

Come on, hurry up, get along.
Go on, get up. Hurry up.

-Evening.
-Yes?

We're looking for a girl.
White girl, captive.

Should be about 1 4 now.

Fourteen? We've got two
about that age.

-Where?
-Sergeant?

All the white women
are in the chapel.

What's this girl to you?

-She's my niece.
-She's my--

One moment.

-White women?
-Yes, sir.

Could you stand up?

Stand up, please.

Debbie?

It's hard to believe they're white.

They ain't white. . .

. . .anymore.

They're Comanche.

Where are your casualties?

Maybe you can help us identify them.
All white. All captives.

There's the white girl there.

No.

"So we're setting out for New Mexico
territory in the morning.

I am sorry I won't be back
for Christmas again this year.

I set pencil aside in the hope
you are enjoying good health. . .

. . .and your folks the same.

I remain, respectfully. . .

. . .yours truly, Martin Pawley."

They never find that girl.

Nope, never.

"Yours truly."

Ma, he had to sign his whole name,
"Martin Pawley."

He couldn't write just "Marty."

-I don't care if he never comes back!
-Laurie, Laurie!

Charlie, you stay for supper.
I won't take no for an answer.

The thought of saying no never
entered my head, Mrs. Jorgensen.

Ain't no place I'd rather be
than right here. . .

. . . right now.

-Recognize it?
-That?

Couldn't be two like that
in the whole world. Mose!

Mose Harper!

-Hey, Mose!
-Sure is good to see you !

Mose, you look mangier than ever.

-How about a drink?
-Yes, sir. Thank you kindly.

-Tequila.
-Ain't been too good.

No, sir. Not too good.

-Getting old.
-You were born old.

Been helping you, Ethan.
Been looking all the time.

Well, reward still stands.

Don't want no money, Ethan.
No money, Marty.

Just a roof over old Mose's head. . .

. . .and a rocking chair by the fire.

My own rocking chair
by the fire, Marty.

You help us find that girl,
you got your rocking chair.

Swear it, Ethan? Given word?

I told you, didn't I?

Ethan, I found a man who's seen her.

Knows where little Debbie is.

Where is he? Who is this man?

-Promise?
-Who is this man?

I am this man, seňor.

Emilio Gabriel Fernandez y Figueroa.

At your service. For a price.

Always for a price.

-Say, I think I'd like just--
-Wait till you grow up.

Let's talk a little business.

Why not.

Mamacita, mȧs frijoles, please.

Let's go.

-But I'm hungry.
-Well, while you're filling your belly. . .

. . . I'm going out to meet
a Comanche named Cicatriz.

Never heard of him.

Cicatriz is Mexican for "scar."

Medicine country, huh?

Bad medicine, I think.

-This is the great Cicatriz, war chief--
-Scar, huh?

Plain to see how you got your name.

You, Big Shoulders.

Young one, He Who Follows.

You speak pretty good American
for a Comanche.

Someone teach you?

Right. We come to trade.
Only, not out here.

I don't stand talking in the wind.

You speak good Comanche.
Someone teach you?

-You stay out of here.
-Not likely.

His sons are dead, so his wives
sit on the honor side of his lodge.

Are all those his wives?

Two sons killed by white men.

For each son, I take many. . . .

Scalps.

We've seen scalps before.

This before?

I came to trade,
not to admire his collection.

Tell him we'll pitch camp
the other side of the creek.

-Talk tomorrow.
-Tomorrow?

It is not that I am afraid.

Don't apologize. You got well-paid.

But he knows who you are. And why
you're here. This I did not know.

Take it. I do not want blood money.

You think old Scar means to kill us?

He's got to.

We've been asking for it for five years.

Well, why didn't he make his move
back there?

Hospitality, I guess.
Comanche hospitality.

Why? Do you wanna pull out too?

"Big Shoulders."

Debbie?

Debbie. Debbie, don't you remember?
I'm Martin. I'm Martin, your brother.

Remember?

Debbie, remember back.

Do you remember how I used
to let you ride my horse?

And tell you stories?

Don't you remember me, Debbie?

I remember.

From always.

At first, I prayed to you:

"Come and get me. . .

. . .take me home."

You didn't come.

But I've come now, Debbie.

These are my people.

Go. Go, Martin. Please.

Stand aside, Martin.

No, you don't, Ethan.

Ethan ! No, you don't!

Stand aside!

Debbie. Debbie.

Well. . .

. . . looks as though I'm gonna
have to open that shoulder again. . .

. . .get the poison out.

Beats me how you could have
stayed alive this long.

I want you to. . . .

To read this.

"I. . .

. . . Ethan Edwards. . .

. . . being of a sound mind. . .

. . .and. . .

. . .without any blood kin. . .

. . .do hereby. . . ."

"Bequeath." Means "leave."

"Bequeath. . .

. . .all my property. . .

. . .of any kind. . .

. . .to. . .

. . . Martin Pawley."

What do you mean,
you don't have any blood kin?

-Why, Debbie's your blood kin !
-Not no more, she ain't.

Well, you can keep your will !

I don't want any of your property!

I ain't forgetting you was getting
all set to shoot her yourself.

-What kind of a man are you?
-She's been living with a buck!

-She's nothing but a--
-Shut your dirty mouth !

I hope you die.

That'll be the day.

One, two, three, four!

Evening, everybody!
Evening, sister. We made it!

-Hello!
-Hello. Where's Charlie?

Well, sister, here he is! All curried and
combed and washed behind the ears.

Charlie, you look right handsome!
I'd hardly know you.

Yes, ma'am. I can't hardly
recognize myself.

Let it on, Luther!

-Hiya, partner.
-Well, howdy, Charlie.

How's your guitar?

-Won't you have a drink, Reverend?
-No, Nesby. . .

. . . not till I'm finished my clergying.
Bar's closed. Right, Sister Jorgensen?

-Right.
-All right, let's go! Let's get her going !

Charlie!

Go ahead, Lars.

Bible.

-Get them spurs off.
-Yes, sir.

All right, line up to the side, boys.

Music.

You don't suppose they're
throwing a party for us, do you?

That'll be the day.

I'm all right.

Ethan, Marty!
No, no, you can't come in !

-The Rangers is in there.
-What's that got to do with us?

You been posted for murder,
the both of you !

That trader fella,
the late Mr. Futterman.

The reverend and the Rangers
are in there now, waiting.

-Well, what's going on anyway?
-Well, the--

Looks like you two will have
a lot to talk about. Come on.

-But, Ethan, hide in the barn--
-What for?

Martin.

Please! Look, everybody!

Look, Mama. Look who's here.

Evening.

-Bar open?
-Ethan. . .

. . .any news of our little girl?

She's not a little girl anymore.

-You've seen her? She's alive?
-I've seen her. She's alive.

Evening, Reverend.

Or should I call you "captain"?

I came here for a wedding, Ethan.

Till that's over, I reckon
"reverend" will do.

-Afterwards, we'll talk.
-Marty with you?

Yep.

-Charlie, please.
-Charlie!

Mama! Mama, no!

Good to see you back, Ethan.
We'll join you.

But I wrote you one letter.

One letter in five years.

I read it till the paper dried up
and the writing faded out.

Yeah, guess it wasn't
much of a letter, was it?

No, it wasn't.

You might've at least
said you loved me.

You might've asked me to wait for you.
At least that would've been something.

But I always loved you.

I thought you knew that
without me having to say it.

It isn't fair, Martin Pawley.

It isn't fair, and you know it!

-I wish you wouldn't cry, Laurie.
-Who's crying?

Well, I just reckon the best thing
for me to do is go away.

You do, Martin Pawley,
and I'll just die!

I'll thank you to unhand my fiancée.

You don't mean you're
gonna be marrying him?

-Charlie MacCorry?
-She sure is!

And don't think your coming back
is gonna change it either.

Well, now, as to that,
I just don't know, Charlie.

We hadn't gotten around
to talking about marriage.

What right have you got to be talking
marriage to any decent woman?

If you're referring to
that murder charge--

And other things.

Maybe you think you was
getting away with being smart. . .

. . .about that Indian wife you took.

I'll bet she ain't
the first squaw you ever--

Why, you ornery, no-good son of a--

Oh, Marty, you've done it again !

Get out of my way!

Marty, Charlie! I ain't gonna
have fighting in my house.

Well, then we're just gonna
fight outside, doggone it.

I ain't toting no firearms.

Well, that sure ain't
gonna be no problem.

Ma! Pa! Reverend Clayton !

-After you, Marty.
-After you, Charlie.

Pa! Reverend Clayton ! Pa!

Well, here.

Thank you.

Spit over that piece of firewood.

Quit that, Marty! That ain't fair!

Martin ! Martin ! Charlie!

-Marty, now you stop that. Marty!
-Marty! Charlie!

-Marty!
-Stop it!

-Sergeant MacCorry! Sergeant!
-Yes, sir?

Is this here altercation
in the line of duty?

No, sir. It's more in the nature
of a private fight.

Well, all right, then. Go ahead.
But fight fair. No biting or gouging.

And no kicking either!

Get them up, get them up.
Make them fight fair.

All right. You fight fair, Martin !

Hey, wait a minute, Marty.

-Somebody's fiddle.
-Hey, Seth.

-No choking. No gouging.
-Come on, Charlie. Give it to him.

Pa! Mr. Edwards, make them stop!

-Why? You started it.
-Marty, watch his feet!

-Oh, Ethan, no!
-Don't forget you're a lady.

- Come on !
- Fight fair now.

Fight fair!

-Don't let Charlie--
-Come on, Charlie!

-That's it, Charlie.
-Thattaboy, Charlie!

Charlie, Charlie!
Come on, Charlie, get up here.

-Charlie, you all right?
-Marty, Marty, come on.

I reckon so.

Now, come on. I want you boys
to shake hands and make friends.

Sorry I bit your ear, Marty.

Oh, it-- It don't hurt none, Charlie.

Now, you boys get cleaned up
and we'll proceed with the wedding.

-Oh, where's my Bible?
-There ain't gonna be no wedding.

Not till we get a few things
cleared up around here.

Well, Sister Jorgensen, it was
a nice wedding party. . .

. . .considering nobody got married.

Ethan, I gotta ask you and Martin to take
a ride with me down to the state capital.

Is this an invite
to a necktie party, Reverend?

No, I wouldn't say that.

Likely you had your reasons
for killing Futterman.

Probably needed killing.

I'm talking to you now as a Ranger,
not as a preacher.

The fact that all three of them
was shot in the back. . .

. . .was the only thing that
raised some question.

That. . .

. . .and a missing gold piece that was
known to have been on him. . .

. . .just prior to his demise.

Ethan, I have to ask you for your gun.

Well, if it's all the same
to you, Reverend. . .

-. . . I ain't going to Austin.
-You're going if the captain says so.

-Boys! Charlie!
-Stop it! Stop it!

I'll put both of you in
the smokehouse to cool off!

-Marty, sit down !
-Sergeant!

Good evening, ma'am.
Captain Clayton.

Excuse me, ma'am.

-Captain Clayton, sir.
-No.

I'm Captain Clayton.

-You're Captain Clayton?
-Yes, I'm Captain Clayton.

Colonel Greenhill's compliments, sir.

-The colonel wants to--
-Is your head cold?

No, sir.

I'm sorry, sir.
I beg your pardon, ma'am.

All right, start at the beginning.

Colonel Greenhill's compliments.
The colonel wishes--

Hold on. Who is this colonel
you're talking about?

Colonel Greenhill is Colonel Greenhill.
Commanding--

-And who are you?
-I'm Lieutenant Greenhill, sir.

What is it your pa wants to know?

Well, go ahead.

My pa wants to know--
Colonel Greenhill wants to know. . .

-. . . how soon you can put a company--
-Turn around, sonny.

Yeah, he's a Yankee cavalryman.

Colonel Greenhill wants to know
how soon you could--

-I resent that, sir.
-Just funning, son, just funning.

He wants to know how soon
you can put men in the field. . .

. . .for joint punitive action
against the Comanche.

-Joint what?
-Joint punitive action.

We received information about a band
of Comanches under a chief named Scar.

-What information?
-That he's not far from here. . .

-. . . holed up somewhere.
-What makes you think he's not far?

Yesterday, a patroller
picked up a man. . .

. . .claims he was Scar's prisoner
two days ago.

Talks kind of crazy,
but we brought him along.

Says he lives here.
Keeps mentioning a rocking chair.

Mose. Mose!

Mose!

Take his arms, Sam.

-Old Mose.
-It's Mose!

Evening, ma'am.
Come for my rocking chair.

Bring him to the fire.

-Watch him !
-Grab him !

Get him up.

-Here, get him a chair.
-Charlie.

Bring him a drink.

-Watch his head.
-Here you are, Mose.

-Take a big swallow.
-Take a drink.

-Drink that down. Make you feel better.
-That's it.

Mose. Scar, where is he?

My rocking chair.
You promised me my rocking chair.

Where is Scar?
- Ask him about Debbie.

Is Debbie all right, Mose?

Made out I was crazy.

You don't think I'm crazy,
do you, ma'am?

- No, Mose, you're just sick and hurt.
- Thank you, ma'am.

Mose, try and remember.
You were at Scar's camp.

Ate dirt, chewed grass.
I fooled them--

Where's Scar holed up?

Won't tell you.

Tell Marty.

Seven Fingers, Marty.

-Seven Fingers.
-That's enough. Let's get him to bed.

Wait a minute. Seven Fingers?

Beg to report, sir.
That's what he told us. . .

. . . but there's no such place
on the maps.

Say. . . .

Say, isn't it the Caddo name for where
all them canyons join under the Malpais?

-Seven Fingers. Seven Fingers of Brazos!
-Caddo or Kiowa.

-Boy!
-Come on. Let's get him up to his room.

My rocking chair.
I want my rocking chair.

- We'll bring it.
- We'll bring it.

You go tell your pa that
a company of Rangers. . .

. . .all 1 4 of them, fully armed and
equipped, will be in the field by daylight.

We'll be heading for the south end
of the Malpais.

If he can catch up with us,
all well and good.

But, captain, we can't possibly take the
field tomorrow. For your own protection.

Our protect--?! Sonny, out yonder is
a passel of murderers. . .

. . .complete with Texican scalps
and a white-girl captive.

You wanna protect us,
just keep out of our way.

Now you skedaddle back to your pa!

Ethan, you and Martin are hereby
appointed civilian scouts. Without pay.

Charlie, take the boys and get back to
headquarters and pick up the company.

Martin?

You're not going. Not this time.

-You crazy?
-It's too late.

She's a woman grown now.

But I gotta go, Laurie.
I gotta fetch her home.

Fetch what home?

The leavings of Comanche bucks,
sold to the highest bidder. . .

-. . .with brats of her own?
-Shut your mouth !

Do you know what Ethan will do
if he has a chance?

He'll put a bullet in her brain.

I tell you, Martha would want him to.

Only if I'm dead.

We can get within
a couple of hundred yards of them.

There's a hub back off the left.

How many you figure?

About a dozen each.

Enough to go around.

I'll see you later.

Well, we found them.

Now, men. . .

. . .the state of Texas is paying you
1 2 Yankee dollars a month.

Now's your chance to earn it.

Tighten up your cinches.
We go charging in about sunup.

-Now, make sure that--
-Just a minute, Reverend !

We go charging in, they'll kill her,
and you know it!

-That's what I'm counting on.
-I know you are!

It ain't gonna be that way.
She's alive. She's gonna stay alive.

-Living with Comanches ain't being alive.
-Better that than her brains bashed out!

Now, son, I know this is a bitter thing
to say, but there's more at stake here. . .

-. . .than your sister.
-There sure is.

I'm gonna tell you something.

Didn't mean to speak of it,
but I'm gonna tell you now.

You remember that scalp strung
on Scar's lance?

-Long and wavy?
-I saw it.

Don't try to tell me
it was Martha's or Lucy's!

It was your mother's.

-Come on, son.
-But that don't change it.

That don't change nothing !

Give me a chance to sneak in and get
her before you come charging in.

-What if you get caught?
-That don't tell them nothing.

-Just one man alone.
-I say no.

You go right ahead, son.

But at the first sign of an alarm,
we're coming in.

And we ain't gonna have no time to pick
and choose our targets when we do.

It's your funeral.

Captain Clayton ! Captain !

- Captain Clayton !
- What the sam hill?

-Captain Clayton, sir.
-Damn-- Go ahead !

Why don't you have your bugler
blow the charge while you're at it?

-Sir?
-Oh, never mind.

-Does your pa know you're out here?
-Yes, sir. Troop's about 1 0 miles back.

-The colonel sent me out looking for you.
-You found me. Good work.

-Good work. Goodbye.
-If there's anything I can do, sir. . . .

God forbid. You just flog on back
and tell you pa where we're at.

-And where he's at.
-But he knows that, sir.

Can't I stay? Please?

Oh, all right. But you watch me, boy.

I'm the hard case you're up against
out here, not them childish savages.

And if you don't hear my first holler,
you better read my mind. . .

. . . because I don't aim to raise no
two hollers on any subject at hand !

-Yes, sir.
-Boy!

-Watch that knife!
-Sorry, sir.

Halt!

Mount!

Mount. Mount! M-O-N-T-E, mount!

Debbie.

Debbie.

Debbie. Don't say anything, Debbie!
It's your brother Marty, Debbie.

I'm gonna take you away.
I'm gonna get you out of here, Debbie.

Yes, Marty. Oh, yes, Marty.

Brethren, leave us go amongst them !

Bugler!

Get in there!

Charlie, Nesby, run off that pony herd--

-Boy, you watch out for that knife!
-Yes, sir.

Let's go!

Oh, no, Ethan ! No, Ethan !

No, Ethan !

Debbie!

No, Ethan ! No!

Let's go home, Debbie.

-Does that hurt, Reverend?
-Shut up!

Ow!

Come on.

Good work, captain. Good work, son.

You wounded?

-Bullet? An arrow?
-No.