All language subtitles for The.Burrowers.2008.720p.BluRay.sdh-English

It's about... Maryanne.

I... I'd like...

Mr. Stewart,
I'd like to talk to you.

I've come... I've come
to Washburn Creek

to talk to you...
oh, good Jesus.

To your home.
I've come to your home

to talk to you about Maryanne.
I'd like...

I'd like very much
to ask...

Maryanne...
I'd like to talk to you

about Maryanne.

It's about...
it's about Maryanne.

Maryanne?

Hold still.

I don't want to go
to bed yet, not now.

Oh, stop your fussing.
Come on.

The splinter already hurts more
than pulling it out.

Okay?

Mary...

- I'm not sleepy.
- We'll store you to bed.

You need to take
your rest too, Mary,

if you want to look pretty when your
Irish comes courting tomorrow.

You hush.

Hold still.

What's that?

Get him over there.

Aster, come.
Come here.

- What's happening?
- They were in the Williams house.

- Indians?
- Stay with the women.

Down into
the root cellar, get.

Let's go.

- Come on now.
- Come on.

Come on down.

Keep your lamp low
and this door locked.

You don't open it
no matter what.

Ma! Ma!

- Ma, Ma.
- Quiet.

Mind your brother
now. Hush.

Josh.

Don't cry.
Be brave for me.

Josh! Josh!

Maryanne? Mary?

Anybody home?

Mr. Williams, sir,

the Stewarts
aren't home.

Oh, God.

Oh, Jesus.

The Stewarts are gone.

Easy. Did Mary say anything
to you about leaving?

No.

What about
the Williamses?

No, you gotta...

Oh, God.

Damn it.

Indians took 'em.

God help 'em.

We've got to
get them back.

I hit three men
up there.

Really?

Indians, anyway.
I hit them dead.

Don't feed Dobie your
horseshit, Mr. Parcher.

That ain't horseshit.
That's history.

Boy ought to learn
where he's come from.

Mind the cursing
in front of my boy.

Yes, ma'am.

Great God Almighty,
is that coconut cake?

Mom got it special.

Baked it.

Coconut cake
from back East.

10 years back,
not a mile from here,

I had to eat a horse
to survive.

That's disgusting.

It wasn't my horse.
The point is

we're here now
eating coconut cake.

Right civilized country.

There's chicken and cornbread.

I know it. I'll attend to that
cornbread directly.

There's a rider.

Listen, cowboy, how about you take
your mother in the house?

He's wearing
a funny hat.

I think it's your ranch hand,
Mr. Coffey.

Anybody can wear a funny hat.
That ain't Sunday riding.

Go on, take your
mother inside.

Let's go, Dobie.

Go on.

Coffey, God damn it,
I was having a picnic.

Indians...
they killed...

There.
It's from Mr. Clay.

They took Maryanne,
took the whole family.

I can read.

Oh, Jesus.

Did the Indians kill them little
Williams girls too?

No, looks like
Mr. Williams did.

That's a hell
of a thing to say.

If we're dealing
with Crow or Ute,

Dobie could see things
a boy shouldn't have to.

I've made up
my mind, Will.

You've already lost
a man to the Indians.

I don't want
to risk another.

I don't have
a man in this house.

I've got a boy.

Take him to Washburn Creek
and bring him back.

Maybe then
I'll have two.

- Them horses ready?
- Yes, sir.

We're all set,
Mr. Parcher.

Then let's
get to it.

Mr. Parcher's lived
through everything

this country could
throw at him.

You stay close
and mind him.

You'll be fine.

She should have
bled out more.

Same with the girls.

Ida and Daphne.

I think those were
their names.

You want
to wait outside?

No.

Good.

I wonder

what kind of weapon
makes a wound like that.

No scalping knife
I know of.

Maybe some kind
of chisel.

That gun
only fires twice.

He would have had
to have reloaded it

if he wanted
to kill everybody.

Any Christian woman would prefer dying
to capture.

Mr. Williams
had time to reload

because his wife
gave it to him.

If it came to that,

I hope you'd be
strong enough

to take care
of your mother.

I suppose a wild buffalo
could have done this.

Looks like you've found yourself a hole
in the ground there, Will.

That and four corpses

and six missing,

most of those being
women and children.

I'll get the horses.

Hold up now.

It's in my command.

I gotta know
who we're hunting.

How long have
the Indians had them?

Near a day now.

Mm, well,

that's more than enough time for those
women to have been...

Yes, so why aren't we
on the trail?

You want to go face an Indian war party
on your lonesome?

Those blanketheads
will peel you like an orange, boy.

Follow along.
We'll do this thing right.

Don't worry.
We'll find them.

Hey, you all right?

We should be going
after them.

You knew
these people?

I do.

The Stewarts anyway.

That's Maryanne.

She yours?

I was working
on her.

Alas! And did
my Savior bleed

And did my
Sovereign die?

Would He devote
that sacred head

For such a worm
as I?

Thy body slain

Sweet Jesus, Thine

And bathed
in its own blood

While the firm mark
of wrath divine

His soul
in anguish stood.

Christ.

Who's Henry Victor's
Indian?

That's Ten Bear,
a Crow Indian.

The man's paid
for his worth.

Hey, Walnut, Mr. Victor's
canteen's dry.

He called you Walnut.

Yeah, he did.

Is that your name?

The name's Callaghan.

Callaghan.

You Irish?

That man that calls me Walnut
believes he's better than me

'cause nobody
ever owned him.

But I'm not
enlisted.

I cook for Fort Lincoln,
but I'm paid.

I can leave anytime I want.
You understand?

Sure.

I'm Fergus Coffey.

Coffey.

You black?

Damnation.

What?

We're not gonna find any
kidnapped wives at a reservation.

I know it.

We could set off
on our own.

Might could, though it would
only be four of us

to we don't know
how many 'skins.

We have to find
the Stewarts.

If we can do that with Henry Victor's
help... fine. If not...

I guess you've had every chance to
and ain't killed us yet.

Mr. Parcher.

Sorry, Dobie.

It must have stepped
in a prairie-dog hole.

Listen, cowboy,

why don't you
hump on ahead

and see how much further
we're gonna press on before camp?

Yes, sir.

Go on now.

Why do you spend so much time
rubbing that boy's belly?

He already thinks
you're Jesus Crockett.

I'm courting
his mother.

That's Gertrude Spacks' boy?

Yeah.

A skinny woman.

Might as well
just poke the boy.

That's not a very
godly sentiment.

- Hey, son.
- Mr. Victor, sir, Mr. Parcher told me...

Take a look yonder.

Is that a horse?

Go on.

He's seen us.

You think I didn't
know that?

Why ain't he running?

Well, why don't we
ask him?

Parcher.

These white people.

Bad Indians took.

You help, we let you go.

We don't have time
for this, Will.

Every prisoner
is gonna slow us.

Yeah, well, I'd rather walk
in the right direction

than ride with my head
up my ass.

What's happening to these Stewart women
right now?

This isn't
your outfit, Clay.

This soldiers are
under my authority...

mine.

As long as you ride
with us, so are you.

That Injun
doesn't know shit.

He wouldn't talk
if he did.

Mm-hmm, yeah.

He'll talk.
He'll talk.

- Hey.
- Walnut. Sorry, Callaghan.

You don't want
to see that.

Do you know
if he's talked yet?

Naw, that ain't
even the point.

They stopped asking questions
a half-hour back.

What is that?

- Hmm?
- What the hell is that?

It's a tobacco pouch.

It's ugly as shit.

Yeah, come off an Injun,

a big buck
by the name of

Sack-o-T abacky.

Jesus Christ.

What is it?

Shit, son.

It's a scrotum, Dobie.

I can't say
I like Henry Victor.

There's a sack
of horseshit.

I came close to joining
the army after New York.

Impossible to get work here.
No one will hire the Irish

on account of us being
a bunch of thieves and beggars.

Sounds familiar.

You come to this
country alone?

I had a sister, died of consumption
on the boat.

They put her
in the water.

They wanted to put everything
in the water to save us the infection,

but I managed
to hold on to a...

what do you call that?
- Broach.

It used to belong
to Mother.

I gave it
to Maryanne Stewart.

He's given up for the night.
Praise God.

Shit.

Hope this
gets me fired.

Come on here.
Eat, all right?

You'll be awake in your grave.

You'll be alive when they feed.

Go on, eat it.
Come on.

My daddy was one of the men
behind the rifles

that held off the Sioux
in the battle for New Ulm.

You know the story
of New Ulm, boy?

Yes, sir.
My father died there.

Well, I hope you know
your daddy died noble.

I will raise a drink
to your daddy

and every man
at this fire,

for we will make certain
that we never see

anything like that happen
in this country again.

I'll drink to it.

Any reason's
a good one.

Who fed my Indian?

We don't find
those settlers

until he talks.

And he don't eat

until he talks!

Now who fed
my goddamned Indian?

Walnut!

You goddamn...!

Where are you?

- Somebody find that...
- I fed him.

Why, you ignorant
son of a bitch.

Henry.

You raise that gun

and the four of you will be on ropes
within an hour.

Christ, Henry,

he was just gonna
shoot you a little bit.

And if Coffey fed him the same shit
your cook fed us,

he ain't no happier than he was
before he ate.

Give it a rest.

Yeah.
This is my command...

mine.

And I will not have
my authority undermined.

Apologize to the man for undermining
his authority.

I'm sorry for undermining
your authority.

Bugle taps.

We're bedding down.

I want three men guard
until dawn.

I want guns
on the night.

Anyone tries to sneak back
into this camp,

anything moves,

kill it.

Who's there?

Are you all right?

Come on, Samuel,
get up.

Jesus Christ, Samuel,
you drunken shit.

What have you got
for me here?

Give me my...

Who's there?

Wake up, Samuel.

Wake up, Samuel,
for God's sake.

Bullshit. Bullshit.
Bullshit.

Somebody saw those
yellow-belly shitheels deserting.

I will not
goddamn believe

that four men
left this camp

and no one even
goddamn stirred.

What happened?

'Morning, sweetheart.
Henry Victor lost

some of his boys
last night.

Yeah?
Where?

That's the question.

What's he got
to say now?

We already know
that don't work.

I'm glad they like white men, too.

What was that?

He says he likes
white men.

The Burrowers.

He says about another
tribe... Miners.

He didn't say "miners. "

Men mine.

He used the word for an animal's dig,
"burrow" maybe.

The tribe Burrowers?
Last night?

Let my buck
do his job, Will.

Where do we find the Burrowers?

They'll find you.

Even if you do taste like white man by now.

God damn it, Henry.

Hey, don't touch
my Indian.

John. John.
John. John.

Don't you ever
touch my Indian.

I've had enough
of that man screaming.

Eh, he's shit-all
for information anyway.

We'll get our answers
at the reservation.

This ain't the Sioux,
Henry.

He just said
"Burrowers. "

We need to face
the enemy before us.

Do you understand?

We're going
to the reservation.

Mr. Parcher.

What do you think,
cowboy?

I don't know.

There's another
right there,

maybe a third yonder.

Shitfire.

Henry Victor would rather
pull toes off the Sioux

than follow the trail
before us.

Sorry, sir?

I think we're about set
to quit our military escort.

I ain't rode this hard
since we gone to the town.

Dobie.

What do you think,
cowboy?

It's all right.

I gotta go
to the Jacks.

You've been doing
real good, Dobie.

You ought to sleep.

We'll be up
before dawn.

We only got
a few days...

You ever heard of a tribe
called the Burrowers?

We'll stand
two-hour shifts.

Jesus. What?

Don't shoot.

It's me. It's Callaghan,
Henry Victor's cook.

Shitfire, Walnut.

Are you trying
to get shot?

I can't rightly
account for the others.

I didn't even know
they was missing till just now.

Well, if you're riding with us,
you're working for us.

It's nasty work in
an unfriendly country.

You follow along,
do as you're told, you hear?

Well, can I ask which one of y'all
is boss?

We're partners.

Listen to Parcher.
Do what Clay says.

I'll be dogged.

The mick's been
paying attention.

Welcome to the outfit,
Walnut.

This don't
make sense.

Don't touch anything.

Who takes
men and horses

and leaves
the valuables to rot?

This is something
we ain't seen before.

We stay
on the trail, huh?

Which direction
are we going?

You'll go whatever direction
we tell you to, I guess.

What about the wagon?

The man said
don't touch it.

Damn.

Shit.

Hey, what's wrong
with you?

What in the hell?

Jesus God.

She's breathing.

She's not
one of the Stewarts.

Who is she?

That's just like
a Williams woman.

She should have
bled out more too.

Still moist.

Any other marks
on her?

You got eyes.

There's something
scratching.

She's been drug
a spell.

- What else?
- What else do you want, John?

Did the Indians
rape her?

How the hell am I
supposed to know?

There's something
scratching inside her.

I hear it too.

It's in her shoe.

Take it off.

Why would they
bury her alive?

I don't know.

It's a miracle
she ain't dead.

What about the crucifix
stuck on her?

What if they buried
Maryanne?

We'll find her.

Here, it's yours.

What do I do with it?

Hellfire,
I don't know.

Find comfort in your Maker.
It's your watch.

Now once you get
to Fort Lincoln,

you stay with her.
We'll pick you up on our way back.

I can catch up with you guys
in about a day or two.

We won't have more than
a day or two

before those missing
are corpses or worse.

Don't ride it now unless you want
to break old Spear's leg.

- I know it, sir.
- You'll be fine.

I wouldn't trust any other
man in the outfit to do the job.

Enough.
Let's go.

- I don't like this quiet.
- Hold your peace.

Yonder.

He looks Sioux.

Shit, they got us
flanked.

Come on.

God damn it,
that was a greeting.

- We got trouble?
- I expect.

I'm shot.

Jesus Christ Almighty,
Walnut's horse kicked you.

And you deserve worse.

If you so much as touch that gun
without my say-so,

I will holster it
in your ass.

- You understand?
- Oh, yeah.

Let's keep at it.

Well, don't think
of it

as being forward
or nothing.

Well, that's civilized.

Well, good night.

Jesus.

You're still awake.

You're trying to...

I'm so sorry, I...

What did they do
to you?

You think that Sioux back there
was Burrower tribe?

There's more flavors of Sioux
than I can count.

How come we never
heard of them before?

I can't say.

I expect they'll introduce themselves
shortly.

The mick ain't made us the most
popular white men in Dakota.

You know, I have a notion
to let him go when we get home.

Amen to that.

I'll stay out till we
find the Stewarts.

They might not be
so far off.

If that Indian you shot at
wanted to talk,

he wanted to trade.
The only thing he'd have

that we might want...
white people.

They don't trade
in whites.

And if this is revenge
rather than rescue...

We got no reason
to think she's dead.

We can still
find her.

He's right.

We don't quit. We don't sleep.
We don't...

Jesus, Clay.

Come on.

- My leg.
- Stop pulling.

Get over here.

Don't waste
your bullets

unless you're
close enough to kill.

How long are we gonna
lay here?

They could be
waiting in ambush.

The horse is starting
to smell.

Hey, that's poison oak,
ain't it?

Looks it.

I'll tell you what...

put your gloves on

and pile up as much of this stuff
as you can

while we wait
for dawn.

They used to make us
burn this shit in Georgia.

Yeah?

I knew a man
that got caught

downwind of the smoke.

Venting his lungs
for two days.

You boys about set?

He drowned
in his own blood.

All set.

All right,
get to burning.

Let's go.

It just
don't seem right.

It gets us
back on the trail.

I thought you ain't
had any religion.

So we know where
he's buried.

Leave it off.

If them Indians know
a white man's buried here,

they're liable

to dig him up
and tear out his eyes,

make him blind
in the spirit world.

This mean
we're heading back?

No.

Shitfire.

John Clay'd piss on us
from heaven

if we turned back now.

How do you think
he does that...

sleeps on his horse?

I wish I knew
so I could do it.

Haven't closed my eyes
since yesterday morning.

I wish I had my hat.

Hard to fathom

John Clay being dead.

I've known that man
since we were little boys.

You ever get
anyone back...

women

from the Indians?

Not personally.

Not alive.

I met a woman who...

who come back once,
but she weren't never the same.

But she lived.

I'll take
the first watch.

No, you sleep.
I'll...

I'll keep a lookout.

Callaghan.
Parcher.

Coffey, I can't
find Parcher.

Why's the fire
so high?

I woke up in the heat of it.
He was already gone.

Something's up.

He's using us.

Indians see the fire,
attack us...

Parcher sees
the Indians.

Son of a bitch.

This fire
will die down.

Do you hear that?

It's almost like...

My neck.

Do we have
any bandages?

It ain't bleeding.
I can't even feel it.

Jesus.

Now I can't feel
my hand.

What did that Indian
do to me?

Those weren't Indians.

Here, clean it out.

What right did you have
to stake us out there like bait?

It ain't about rights.

And I'm the one
who's goddamn cut.

I can't feel my face.

They're all around us.

I think they're waiting for us
to go back to sleep.

Fat goddamn chance
today.

Coffey, would you

hand that cross over?

If I don't
make it back,

you give that
to Miss Gertrude Spacks for me.

Or you give it
to Dobie

and tell him
it's for his mother.

I'll do it
if it comes to that.

I appreciate it.

We've got a fire.

Careful, we don't know
if these are friendlies.

Yeah, well,
as long as they're human.

Friendly.

Peaceful.

You are marked.
Burrowers.

What did she say?

Told us to set a spell.

Faithful.

Her name is Faith.

Burrowers killed my family.

Last night I shot my husband,
so he would not have to suffer the feeding.

She's talking
about the Burrowers.

Said they killed
her family.

- Ask her what a Burrower is.
- And where do we find 'em?

Burrower. Where from?

They come every third generation.

We tried to escape to the East
past the Great River.

Burrower. What is it?

They were here before white people,
before humans even.

They feed on buffalo.

They bury food, let it rot.

The poisoned cannot sleep.

They... they use
some kind of poison

and bury their victims
alive.

When the blood is thick and the
organs are soft they return and eat.

They drink.

They eat soft parts.

Soft parts?

What's that mean?

I like my soft parts.

Shit.

You killed the buffalo,
so the Burrowers found other food.

My father said Ute had fought them.

But the Ute are as wicked as white men.
They will not help.

Ute Indians know
how to kill them.

Does she know how
to stop the poison?

Heal? Make whole?

You can die.

- Ute might know.
- What about the Stewarts?

What about them?

We can't stop searching
so you can find your cure.

We find the Utesi

they lead us
to the Burrower tribe;

we kill the Burrowers;
you get your girl;

you build a cabin on the prairie
and you play American.

Faith coming with us?

That, or I'm
killing her.

Coffey, see that bruise
on Parcher's neck?

His face
and hands too.

The man's
falling apart.

I'm starting to think

I mightn't be so eager
to risk my hide

for that crazy shitbird's
Indian cure.

I'm risking nothing
for him.

You still think you're gonna find
your girl, huh,

Maryanne Stewart?

What if she looks
like him?

I may need the Indian cure
just as bad.

What's the ruckus
back here?

Just talking.

I thought I might have
heard my name.

Don't tell me you boys
are tired already.

This is Ute territory.

Your wound is spotted.

That's how they will find you.

What did she say?

Not a thing.

Let's go.

We're here.

What?

There's no here here. We're dead center
goddamn nowhere.

Utes will come.
We just gotta wait.

Get me off this horse.
My ass feels like soggy bread.

We shouldn't stop.

Come on.
Come on down.

Don't stop. It's getting dark.
They'll kill us all.

Christ, come on.

They'll kill us all.

They'll kill us all.

Are your eyes
open, bud?

You hear me calling?

I'm awake.

Good.
You stay that way.

You think that boy and his squaw are
gonna try and leave us?

Did you hear
what I was saying?

I... I'd sure hate
to have to shoot somebody

who was trying
to abandon me out here.

What?
What?

Take that one out!

- Did you see those things?
- You shot my goddamn leg!

I saved your ungrateful ass
from that...

Parcher,
you stupid...!

Jesus God in Heaven,

that was no Indian.

Put wood on the fire.

Put wood on the fire,
she says.

We should go, keep moving.

They'll find him by his wound.
We leave him, he's already dead.

We keep moving or we die.

- What's she saying?
- Nonsense. The squaw is hysterical.

- Use your hands. Sign.
- Oh, great Christ.

- She wants us to go.
- No, we're staying right here.

Don't listen to that
red-skinned bitch.

She knows more than you do.
Can you ride?

Yeah yeah, if I can
get up on my horse.

We're staying
right goddamn here.

Don't

God damn you to hell,
Coffey.

God damn you.

You boys better
hope to God I die.

More blood is coming.

Coffey, we gotta do
something about my leg.

Here here here.

Come on, come on.

Are you able to speak?

- No English.
- Shoot 'em.

I'm empty.

Drop me
and get your rifle.

You are Ute?

Praise God.
He sent us some Utes.

French?

Je parle Français, kind of.

Good, to speak French.
We good Indians.

Friends.

We seek a white family.

Lost to... Burrowers.

Drop me
and get your rifle.

Dead man - we fix problem.

Little fish... we hunt.

Little fish to hunt with.
- He says he can fix you.

Something about
little fish.

Little fish.

We use the sick as little fish.
Understand?

He keeps talking about little fish.

From the sick.

Oh, Jesus Christ Almighty,
he's...

he's talking about bait.

No. Jesus Christ Almighty,
he's talking about bait.

- Drop me!
- Oh, God.

Oh, God.

You follow you die.
- Shoot him!

Little fish lost.

Pick up your goddamn rifle
and shoot this son of a bitch!

Little fish already dead.

Don't let them take me!

Little fish for trap... stay away, we fix.
- You're killing me, you son of a bitch!

Are they gone?

I don't know.

You ain't thinking
of going after them, are you?

The Ute?

Oh, God.

Coffey?

She's dead.

Let's go home.

I gotta go
after Parcher.

The hell you do.
The man was dead

before them Indians
ever got here.

It's not for him.

We don't know how to stop
the Burrowers' poison.

We don't know
how to kill them.

I want to go home.

They took Maryanne
from home.

Home isn't safe.

Silence.

Oh, man.

Jesus. Coffey.

Thank God.

What?

They made me...
made me drink.

- Drink?
- Yeah.

What do you mean,
drink?

No!

You poisoned
the little fish...

to poison them.

It didn't work.

It didn't work.

They're still alive.

It was the sunlight.

It burned them alive.

The Utes poisoned them.

They put something in Parcher
that would make them sleep.

If that Indian dies
we won't find the poison.

Shit.

Nothing's easy.

I can make it to Fort Bismarck
and back with a doctor in two days.

You think that Indian
can live that long?

I don't know.

Can you?

Get to it.

Come on.

Get up, you lazy bastard.
Come on.

Parcher's Irish.

I'll be damned.

Parcher's Irish.

My God, man, they told me
you were here.

I'm glad
you made it, son.

I'm afraid you're too late
for Will Parcher, though.

I know.

Yeah. What the hell
did them Indians do?

We buried him proper,
though.

The man was wiser
than I gave him credit.

It took us four days
and no small pain

to get them Sioux to tell us
what Parcher guessed right off.

Yeah, well,
we got scouts

routing out the Ute
in the north as we speak...

regular Indians.

They can whoop
to beat the band,

but can't fight
worth shit.

Where's Callaghan?

Who?

He was your cook.
He was part of this...

Oh, Walnut, Walnut.

God rest him.
Walnut... he...

he would have owed me his life,
had he survived.

What?

We had to
amputate his leg

and he up and died
on us.

The man
was hysterical,

delirious
before he passed.

Of course

we never did
find them Stewarts.

Yeah, well,

I doubt
we ever will.

They was probably dead
before we even started.

Well, I guess all we can do
is make sure

them Indians never do
something like this again.

♪ Hush-a-bye, ♪
♪ don't you cry ♪

♪ Go to sleep, ♪
♪ you little baby ♪

♪ When you awake ♪
♪ we will have cake ♪

♪ And all the pretty ♪
♪ little horses ♪

♪ Dun and bay, ♪
♪ sorrel and gray ♪

♪ A pall with six ♪
♪ white horses ♪

♪ Dun and bay, ♪
♪ sorrel and gray ♪

♪ And all the pretty ♪
♪ horses ♪

♪ Way down yonder, ♪
♪ down in the meadow ♪

♪ There's a poor ♪
♪ little lamb ♪

♪ The bees and flies ♪
♪ and plucking out its eyes ♪

♪ Poor little lamb ♪
♪ crying for its mother ♪

♪ Crying for its ♪
♪ mother ♪

♪ Mama gone ♪
♪ and Daddy gone ♪

♪ Oh, you miss ♪
♪ our little baby ♪

♪ So when you wake ♪
♪ we will have cake ♪

♪ And all the pretty ♪
♪ little horses ♪

♪ Dun and bay, ♪
♪ sorrel and gray ♪

♪ A pall with six ♪
♪ white horses ♪

♪ Dun and bay, ♪
♪ sorrel and gray ♪

♪ And all ♪

♪ Those pretty ♪
♪ little horses. ♪