Original subtitles

ARCHER

Morning boy, sorry I'm late.

Archer. Archer. Archer. Archer.

First up again, Mr Power. - Yes, sir.

Enjoy the cold and dark, do you?

No sir, but he does. Archer's an early bird.

Yes.

Just like his father.

You should take it more easily until he's warmed up.

You know that.

Keep up your strength eh Dave?

Just one for you.

Here you are love.

Pass the bread. You're ruining that horse. - What do you mean?

You sit him like a lump of lead.

I do not! - Yes you do. A lump of lead.

Well you sit him like a mosquito.

What do you mean? - Well he's a big horse.

He likes a bit of weight on his back. He likes to feel he's got a rider.

Hey, the mail man.

Hello Jim. - Hello Ted. How's the road?

Not so bad.

It's my job to ride him. It's your job to feed him and groom him.

Learn your place boy. - Morning Robert.

Morning sir. - Mail?

Morning sir.

How are you this moring? - Great.

What's the news then?

Well lets have the news.

A death at the Golburn racetrack.

Joe Green.

He was riding a colt for the publican in the maiden handicap.

The colt bolted with him in the last straight, and won the race.

Then ran into the fence and threw John.

They picked him up with a smile on his face and is neck broken.

They're burying him tomorrow.

Joe had the makings of a good rider. - Apart from that, what other news?

You hurry up in there girl. - Yes sir.

Eyes on your plate boy. - Plate be dammed.

Don't worry, she'll have set her sights above you.

And there's a race. A new one.

The biggest prize money ever offered the say.

As big as Royal Ascot. - When is it?

The biggest in the Southern Hemisphere. - Where? Where?

Look at them, prick up your ears, will you?

It's not going to do none of you much good.

It's in Melbourne. - Melbourne. Like they hide.

And in six weeks time. - You can forget about that then.

Melbourne.

Saw yourselfs riding for fame and fortune, eh? Bad luck.

Listen, why don't you ever bring us a bit of good news now and then, eh?

There's not enough of it about son.

If they'd announced it sooner,

I would have sent a horse by see. - Why didn't they.

Small minded Southern jealousy.

They do not want a horse from a New South Wales

stealing away theit precious cup.

It could still be done sire. - No, it could not.

If I took him overland sir. - What?

You would ride a racehorse to Melbourne.

Ride him like an ordinary hack 550 miles.

And then you would expect him to win a race?

The biggest race against the best they had.

I would walk him sir.

Ride him a little. Exercise him night and morning, just as I always do.

We could go through the mountains sir. We could do it.

Have you ever seen those mountains?

Have you any idea what they're like?

Through the mountains sir. It's the quickest way.

What about aborigines? What aboub busgrangers? - Sir?

Do you not know what a bushranger would give for a fast horse.

It's the difference between his life and rope around his neck.

But Archer would be faster than any of their horses, sir?

We coul out run them.

A bushranger would shoot to kill for a good racehorse.

And he' be aiming at you.

I could fall and be killed in the home paddock here sir.

You nearly were you and on your property.

Yes.

I nearly was.

And that horse was my responsibility.

Just as Archer is today.

I cannot afford to take a risk

of that order with a horse that is not mine.

Besides, you'd need a sizeable ownd escort to go in any sort of safety,

and I can not spare the men.

But an escort, sir? That would just advertise his value.

But just he and I, we could slip through an our own.

You'd be passing him of as a draught horse, would you?

It would give me a great pleasure to win that race, Mr Power?

Very great pleasure.

But it can not be done. Not now.

Now get back to your work.

Maybe you're strating to fancy yourself, are you?

Fancy yourself as his trainer, eh?

Taking him off to this Melbourne Cup.

If I was his trainer, you wouldn't be his jockey.

Why not?

We win races, don't we old fellow?

Archer would win races with anyone on his back.

And he still doesn't like you.

He doesn't have to. I'm his master, he knows that.

And you're his servant.

And look at all this straw here.

It's filthy.

Here're some fresh then.

I'm chalking that one up boy. I'm chalking it up.

Chalk away.

How is it that master's got white hair? He's not an old man.

He met a ghost.

What, a real ghost?

No. It happened when he fell of a horse.

Young bosses hair going white.

He were in the bush and jumped a fallen tree.

Stupid thing to do on a good race horse.

Archer's father as it happens.

William Tell.

Hore came down, rolled on him and then headed off home.

he lay there for two days with most of his bones and his body broken.

Till we found him and brought him in.

Never got on a horse since that day.

But he knows horses inside out him back.

Brings out the best in 'em. Don't he Dave?

Sometimes.

Easy boy.

All right, you can take him.

Sir.

I said you can take him.

And go home tomorrow, tell your mother where you're going.

Yes sir...

But why?

Becaouse you'd better have her praying for you.

Do you have to go?

Is he making you go? - No. I want to go.

I asked to go.

Tis a long way. - Tis too far. Tis wrong.

Well you went a lot further. Didn't you?

And with fear od shipwreck all the way.

And fear of sickness and all the rest.

But we had reason to go.

Twas a hole better life we looked for.

I've got reasons too. - Aye,

you're masters reasons. - No.

My own.

Tis wrong.

It's all wrong.

Letting a boy go off his own on a horse like that.

I mean he's just a boy.

He'll not get fifty miles before he's beaten to death and the horse taken.

T'you think so...?

Sure of it.

Hurry up there. They want the sweet.

I can't see the need for it, Etienne.

The horse would win more prize money here in a season.

It is not a matter of a prize money.

Then what is it?

It is a matter of pride.

It's a matter of folly.

Then it is my pride and my folly,

and I have a right to it.

And I have a right to say what I think, and I think this is foolish.

Just think of all the time wasted on the journey here and back.

Do you not think I have considered all that?

It's hotting up in there. She's dead against it.

And the master says he and I will go down by mail coach.

Five hundered and more miles of bone- shaking all the way.

Won't do your sharp little bones any good, will it.

But what's worrying me most,

You hear of coaches being held up every few weeks on the road.

And passengers being shot now and then.

Perhaps you'd better walk along with Dave then.

I'm not quite that mad.

Here.

Here's the piece of silver.

Won by cap'n Drake from the Spanish Armada.

Carry it for luck.

But it's your luck.

No.

Tis time to pass it on.

You're a long journey.

Your mother fears for you. So do I...

There'll be cold night and even colder mornings

when your faith is running thin.

I only hope you're enough of it bred in your bones to carry you through.

Aye, faith. And a good horse. - Horeses go lame.

The best horse can loose a race.

Your luck held all right.

More or less anyway.

Mixed with rocks and tree stupms and rabbits.

Tis the only kind I know of.

Bye. - Bye Davey.

Etienne, please. I'm afraid of this expedition for your sake.

Mine. Why?

If Archer was our own horse, it would be another matter.

But since you hold him in trust as his trainer...

The Boyd's estate is in such dispute between the stepfather and the sons,

It's hardly known who owns him.

But one of them does. It will be decided.

And what will your standing be with other owners

when Archer is lost anlog the road? - Why do you say "when"?

All right, "if", if you prefer it.

If he is lost, who will trust their horses to you then?

It is my risk

and I choose to take it.

But why? - How can it possibly be so important to you?

Becaouse I'd take him myself If I could.

I would take him myself.

He's a fine horse.

Made something special for you love. - Thank you.

Here, hold this. - I'll put them in here.

All right, those too. - Thank you.

Hey, here come on, mind out for sir.

This letter says who you are and where you are going.

The money is for food and grain.

See that he is well fed,

or he will not be fit to run a hundred yards.

Yes sir, I'll look after him.

This is the best horse we have.

If anything should happen to him, don't came back this way.

Are you frightened? - No. Why should I be?

What about the Aborigines? - What about them?

You know what they do, don't you?

They sneak up behind you in the dark

and they run a spear through you and then they eat your kidney fat.

I think we should go home now.

Thank you sir.

Take care.

Settle down. Settle down.

Ready boy?

Now go. Go Archer, go Archer.

Good morning young fella. Room for one more.

No. I thought not.

Where are you heading, sir? - Wherever the road takes me.

Spring is in the air. The bird is on the wing.

And that's a very fine horse you've got there.

He's a good horse.

And well known in New South Wales, too. Many people know him by sight.

You don't have to worry abot me, lad.

I'm Lord Alfred by name. But just Alfred to you.

I'm David, sir. - David, I'm the younger son of the earl.

My family send me more money that I know how to spend.

Just so long as I stay in the colonies.

A little matter of the Prime Minister's daughter.

The old girl herself gave me a dressing down,

led me to believe she was not amused

and suggested a long ocean voyage.

You mean your mother did that?

No, no, no, old boy.

Her gracious majesty. Queen Victoria.

You know the Queen. - Only a fourth cousin once removed.

But then of course,

they are German stock.

Yes, well then they said they were sending me to New South Wales,

well I adore Wales but,

Do you imbibe? - Do I what?

Drink. Alcoholic beverages.

I haven't had much chance.

Go on, get away, get away you mungrel.

Well tied up your noble beast.

We'll have a swift jar or two and be on our way.

I visited the gold fields of course. But I found

One can't just pick it up now. One has to dig it out of the groun.

It stuck me as unduly hard work.

Far easier to wait along the road

and take it off the man what's done the digging.

That's not my game. - No?

That looks like a pretty horse you've got there.

Looks like the sort of a horse a bushrangers would have.

Yep. You've got a bushrangers horse there.

That's my horse. He's a race horse, I've got his papers.

You can see him If you like.

I reckon it's a bushranger's horse.

I'm his strapper, I've got his papers.

And I'm just a humble Englishman

with an income from home.

A bloody remittance man turn bushranger.

And to prove it,

I have here an English sovereign.

Which we can all drink till it's done.

Drinks all round, drinks all round for my friends.

If you fail to win them, you can always buy them.

Tell your mate: don't be so flash with his money. Not here.

There was another been flash with his money

and came to a bad end here.

Well, what happend to him?

Well now..

This was a new chum,

fresh out from the old country.

And he was travelling south to a job as a jackeroo.

Travelling south...

like yourselves. - What happend?

Well , he stopped by this very pub,

he died, fell in with two cedar getters

not unlike them there.

He had money about him, like yourselves.

But he must have got a bit too many with the drink.

for him made too much display of it.

The two sawyers called him their mate

and offered to guide him along the south track.

All three left here togehter.

Never saw the young boy again.

Never saw him alive again.

No dount they migrated all three to California

and died old and rich there.

An assigned servant was travelling his south track,

and night overtook him on the road.

A cold night with an east wind,

and thunderstorms about.

He was dazing when the thunder roused him of lighthing,

and in the flicker of lighthing,

He saw something which almost froze his blood.

A hand was crawling towards him through the grass.

A severed hand

with blood on it.

He sreamed out in terror and the thing vanished.

But loud above the wind,

he could hear the grating of a cross-cut saw.

And in another flicker of lighthing,

he saw two black figures at a saw pit,

dragging back and forth,

a cross-cut saw.

They killed him?

The two sawyers killed a new chum and sawed him in pieces?

Who can tell.

The bush is full of stories, lad.

Less than half of them are true.

Always listen to the wise man, boy.

Lean the wisdom to choose him.

How far is it to the nearest town?

Ten, fifteen miles.

You won't be there by sundown.

Let's stay here tonight. - Listen to me, boy.

The old man told you that story to make you afraid of going on tonight.

It's not your money they want

presuming you aren't carrying a fortune about you.

It's the horse.

Here, that's ! Painted lead.

You'll never catch 'em now.

What did I tell you? A bushranger's horse.

Just the spot to spend the night, eh Dave?

Well if you say so.

Don't worry, Dave. If called upon, I can shoot the eye out of a mosquito.

Or part the very hair of his head.

I'm glad to hear it.

Can you do the same to ghosts?

Flash and blood is all you've got to worry about, boy.

In fact, I suggest you trust your valuables to me tonight.

Why should I do that?

A mere suggestion. A mere passing thought.

But in a sudden night raid,

I might perhaps fail to protect your purse as well as my own.

And the loss of your purse would put an end to your journey, would it not?

You could never feed a race horse in the style to wich he's accustomed.

Not yourself, for that matter.

Well,

we'll discuss it no further.

You're a wise young lad and you trust no one.

We need more wood.

We'll need a lot of wood tonight. A big fire.

You're a handsome lad, aren't you.

A very handsome lad.

Davey.

There were two horsemen on the track earlier.

White scarves round their throats and travelling fast.

Bushrangers perhaps.

I didn't hear anything. - You were sleeping sound.

Perhaps then...

My dear fellow, I'm touched.

Only too happy.

And that also.

Not this.

My father gave it to me for luck.

I might need it tonight. - May I see?

It came from a ship of the Spanish Armada.

Wrecked off Plymouth Hoe.

Captain Drake clame the prize and he gave a piece of spanish silver

to all the tenants of his land.

My great-great-great grandfather. - Yes, Drake.

He was a Devon man. I know the family well.

So your people are farming people.

For centuries back.

Then why aren't you home like a good lad,

working your father's farm.

There's too many children coming on.

The land's too poor.

I was apprentised when I was twelve. I send them everythin I earn.

Poor lad.

No, it's all right. I like horses.

I love this one.

Well../

Sleep tight, young Dave, and you come to no harm.

Night, Davey.

Archer!

Archer!

Archer...

Archer.

Archer.

You all right, boy?

I did not take the horse.

You said he's well known in New South Wales.

And it's hard to coat a horse with paint.

Return with him home again.

Let us pray your master will go easy on you.

Avoid the silver-tongued stranger,

especially the one that is within your gates.

Shut up!

If we go on,

I've got nothing to feed you on but grass,

and whatever grain i can beg for you.

If we go back...

We can't go back.

C'mon.

Looking for someone?

Who's the boss here?

Over there.

And who's this handsome stranger?

Sir could I have some stable room for the night and some feed for my horse.

I can't pay. I've got no money.

Penniless, eh?

And with a horse like this under you?

I had my money stolen from me on the road.

Bushrangers.

And they left you this horse?

Well, that's your own business.

He can fill his belly

and so can you. Both of you are welcome.

Thank you, sir.

My only price is this:

Let me take him round the paddock.

Well I'm a lot ligher than I look.

and I've known thoroughbreds or two in my days.

He'll come to now with me lad.

All right.

He won't easily let a stranger ride him.

He's trown rood rides before now.

Not my uncle.

What's your name?

Catherine.

Mine's David. Dave.

See that stride?

His full racing stride's nearly twenty five feet long.

Not bad.

Watch this horse well girl.

You may not see his like again till you're an old woman

With grand children of your own.

Perhaps not even then.

You've a long and weary road ahead of you.

But you'll have from us a peaceful night

and a full tucker bad.

But now I don't want that stallion of yours

fighting any of mine fot their mares,

so, in the morning, Catherine'll guide you on the road to the river.

I suppose you haven't heardd much music.

Yes, I have.

But mostly like this.

Sitting outside in the dark while someone plays.

This is the sweetest sound I heard.

Yes.

It's precious, that piano.

It took a whole team of bullocks to bring it here from Sydney.

It was what she wanted more that anything, my uncle did in for her.

It was a promise he made to her when he took up his land, that piano.

They brought it through a two day rainstorm and a half flooded river.

But it's all right.

Or nearly all right.

You can kiss me if you like.

Are you sure?

No.

No, I just changed my mind.

Too late.

Well, now that's over, you should bed down the horse

and go to bed yourself.

You've got a long road ahead of you.

She maybe little, this one, but on ground like this

she'd beat a bone-headed race horse any day.

So would any good stock horse?

She's more than a stock horse. You'll see.

Why wouldn't you race he?

I'm not racing Archer, till we get to Meblourne.

Not for anything or anyone.

Afraid he'll fall flat on his thoroughbred nose.

Nothing worth the risk.

Follow the track that goes up over the ridge.

There are sign posts all the way along.

Can I kiss you again? - No.

Stop at my father's house.

It's on the track.

Two days walk from here, or half a day's ride.

Just ask anyone for the sawmiller's house. You'll be welcome there.

An old, what's his name, Fleabiscuit.

I hope he wins.

Wooh boy, wooh boy, steady archer, steady boy.

Steady, steady, wooh boy, wooh Archer.

Wooh Archer, that's right, steady.

Steady. Whooh Archer.

Easy boy, easy.

Easy, easy Archer, settle down boy, settle, settle Archer.

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. C'mon Archer.

Well I give up. Which way do you reckon?

Fool horse. You've brought us on the wrong track!

Ten or more miles out of the way.

Freezing cold night coming down.

Just have to beg what we can.

Pardon me ma'am.

We're travellers to Melbourne.

Caught by night on the wrong road.

Do you have shelter?

Yes, we've got shelter.

Can I chop some wood?

Do that digging for you?

The eart's still half frozen after winter.

He'll be cold.

There'll be a frost tonight.

I'll have to get the smoke pots going in the orchard.

That's the orchard? - Yes. A disease killed the shoots.

Mathew would've thrown these on the fire along with the rest,

but I managed to save them. We'll need grass, green stuff.

Mathew's your husband? - Yes.

Where is he now?

Tramping the road somewhere, looking for work.

To make some money to buy more trees. And another horse

and another cow maybe.

These will have to burn all night to do any good.

I'll keep them burning. I'll be watching with my baby.

I keep wanting to rock him.

It seems so wrong he sould lie so still.

I think you should rock him.

What happened?

He got the croup three nights ago. Along with the rain.

I couldn't go for the doctor.

I couldn't walk with him through the rain.

It's fourteen miles to the nearest town.

I held him three days and three nights.

I tought I could breathe my breath into him.

He could've had my breath.

All of my breath.

The caugh came on worst at night.

I couldn't sleep during the day.

If the little one's had wondered into the bush.

You can sleep now.

I'll watch over him.

I'll keep the smoke pots going.

No.

It's the last night I'll ever have with him.

Ever on earth.

Let me go for someone,

a minister, a priest.

No.

But there must be something I can do.

There must be something.

Find Mathew for me. - Yes, I 'll will.

Where is he?

I don't know. Somewhere South,

along the main road. He writes when he can,

but he's moved on by the time the letters come.

How can I find him then?

Only by asking, by looking for him.

I've a race to be at in Melbourne. In three weeks.

But I find him if I possibly can.

Take it as a promise.

Mathew won't be easy to persuade, you know. When you find him.

Why not? When I tell him... - Because he's got curse of a man,

th thing he calls his pride.

His father was a poor schoolmaster,

He gave Mathew learning and pride.

That's all he had himself.

When things go badly for Mathew, he falls back on his pride.

Why should that stop him from coming home.

Because he swore to himself he never come home to me empty-handed.

He rebuiled the orchard this spring.

Mountain slopes of flowering fruit trees.

If he can't,

he won't come back.

But this must be more important.

That's what you've got to tell him.

This is all I've got for a coffin. An old gin case. Will it do?

It's soft smooth wood. Strong and tight.

I'll fix it up for you.

How shall I ask for him, your husband?

Mathew Swift. Of the Green Mountain.

And you? - I'm Anna.

Good luck.

What more can I say to you? Be of good heart.

I'll find him.

Is this the sawmiller's house? - It is.

And it's the wedding of his daughter.

His daughter? Catherine?

No, he's daughter Meg.

And what would you be? Traveller? Or wedding guest?

I'm not sure.

What are you doing here?

I thought you said I could.... - Well, yes, yes, of course I did.

But you should've passed here days ago, shouldn't you?

Did you get lost?

Yes I did.

And something happened? Didn't it?

What?

Nothing to talk about on your sister's wedding day.

I didn't expect to find a wedding.

Well, it was a bit sudden actually.

Go on. Tie up old Fleabag in the barn and come inside.

We haven't got propper stables here,

but a bit of rough living won't hurt him.

I should groom him a bit,

polish up his coat.

I haven't done it for a few days, and he hates to feel untidy.

You treat that horse like he's your master.

Well he is. In his way.

And a friend.

Well you can't bring your friend inside.

And we happen to be missing all the dancing.

Go on tie him up, give him something to eat and come back.

You can scrub him down in the morning.

So, you took an even longer road than the one already wished upon you.

I have to find someone sir. He might be here.

A man called Mathew Swift.

No.

Got Jonses's Greens, Browns, O'Grady's,

all those Murphy's,

but no Swifts.

Why you so down cast lad?

It's very important, sir.

We'll if that's the case, we'll asked about the neighbourhood for you.

But right now, I think it's very important you dance with Cath.

Otherway she cuts you throat. Or even worse-mine.

So, now here's a toast for the bride. Meg,

and let's include my niece Catherine.

A fine pair of fillies.

Not quite broken to bit and and bridle yet.

But both with the makings of excellent brood mares.

Uncle! - Quiet less, quiet...

I'll ask you all to be on your feet.

We propose a toast to Meg and Catherine.

Meg and Catherine. - Meg and Catherine.

I think we should try get him back.

Once in a generaton, you said. A horse like that.

Out of those hill sides. Those gullies?

It could be done. Couldn't it unce?

Maybe.

Just maybe.

You know I've seen that mob of brumbies.

there's a thoroughbred mare running with 'em. She's in foal.

Now that's a horse I'd like to have.

I'll ride with you. - You will not!

Well, I will.

There's a couple young horses I fancy.

We'll be burying one of you before the day's out.

It's a fine way to end a wedding.

Magie, Magie, Magie. It'l be all right. I promise you.

But I'm afraid you ladies will be going without petticoats for sometime

Petticoats?

Archer! Archer!

Where do you thing you're going lad? - You'll get hurt in there.

No he won't. But you certainly will.

He's thoroughbred. I'm not going to lose him now.

Don't be a fool boy. You can't do it like that.

Archer. Archer ! It's me, Archer. Steady boy.

Calm down boy.

C'mon Archer. Steady, steady.

C'mon Archer. Let's get out of here.

If oyu were my lad, I'd be giving you a bit of this for that.

But as you not...

It was a fine bit of riding.

Someone new of the man you were asking about.

Where is he? - Up that mountain.

There a little township out there and cedar's getter camp just beyond.

They heard of him there.

But it's well out of your way.

You'd better hurry up to melbourne.

Twenty-five feet in a stride won't do him any good if the race is all over.

I have to go.

What's this man to you anyway?

It's not him. It's his wife.

Only gone three days and already unfeathful to me.

Not very.

Thank you.

For him.

Will you be coming back this way? - Yes.

Good.

I'd like to see this... What is it? A gold cup?

He still might not win.

I thought you were quite sure he would.

I've given up being sure of anything.

Well old Fleabag...

You've been a lot of trouble, so you'd better win.

Get up!

Come on, you were behaving like a mountain goat yesterday.

Pardom me, I'm looking for the cedar getter's camp

a few miles beyond here.

Right down that truck there.

But you won't find anyone there.

The camp's all burn out. All the men inside it have moved on.

Hey laddy,

this horse of yours, is he a race horse?

We've got a horse here name of Currawong.

Bred in the bush, even heard of it?

I reckon he's faster than the race horse.

I've got a bag of cold dust say's he's faster than your horse.

I've notnigh to bet, and any way I'm not racing him.

You could bet the horse.

He's not mine to bet, and I said I'm not racing him.

All right, cocksparrow.

All right.

Pardon me ma'am.

Could I do some work for you? Chop some wood-

a stable room and feed for the night.

We've a man here supposed to do all that.

There's nothing then?

Hey, hurry up, will you? The fire's nearly out.

Hey Mathew! - All right. Have a little patiente. I'm coming.

Mathew?

I'm looking for a man named Mathew Swift.

And she had no help for him?

It had rained for three days.

She had no means to go for help.

And the other children?

They're well.

And Anna herself?

She wants you to go home.

No. - What?

She knows I can''t do that.

Not if I go home empty-handed.

No, she doesn't. She doesn't know that. She asked me to find you.

You must have travelled a long way. - I have.

Why?

Because of primse I made to her.

Then you've accomplished your mission.

Forgive me.

Rest here for the night.

I'd like to walk alone for a while.

Well,

one can hardly hang oneself with an audience.

Why?

Bacause it would set her free.

She can go home back to her family.

They'd have her back without me.

There's many a man newly rich from the gold fileds

and not enought wives to go round.

Such a man would gladly marry her,

children and all, and look after her well.

It's the best I can do for her.

It's the worst you can do for her!

Another death, your death, on her head.

It's the last thing in the world she wants.

You know her well enough to speak for her.

I buried her last child.

Well, I've no more scratch for dying tonight.

Go back to sleep.

I'll be here in the morning.

I wish you well for your journey.

How is he this morning,

Your fine race horse that doesn't race?

I thought about our bet.

What bet? - if your horse wins

you get to keep this bag of gold dust here.

It's worth at least a hundred pounds.

There are other men willing to bet on your horse against Currawang.

I'll collect my winnings there.

I told you, I'm not racing him.

There is no proper racetrack here.

His horse is bush bred, but yours is not.

Men have been killed in such a race.

And horses. - I know.

Then why do it? - So you could take the gold dust back to Anna.

You'd give it to me? - Yes.

How could I accept something like that?

It's not for you. It's for her.

And the mountain slopes of flowering fruit trees.

You could lie a bet of me if you like.

You've thought about it? - Yes.

And deicided? - Yes.

Then I can't be expected to say no, can I?

I can't be expected to.

He'll need training and exercise.

And some good feed. Can you arange that?

Yes.

I can.

Not so fast, boy. Not so fast.

No need to show anyone what you can do yet.

It hurts you know, having a bit of hope.

In it's way it hurst, even more than despair.

I don't think I can bear too much of this hope.

It'll be all right.

There's not a horse up here, bushed bred or not,

that could beat him in any opet gallop.

You'll have your gold dust by tomorrow.

You know you can still change your mind about running that race.

I know.

I'm not going to.

I'll wait here by the barn.

This is the Steward, he's here to see fair play.

Now, you know your way around the course?

I'll put the man on the dead stump, make sure you go round it.

What wait are you? - I'm nine stone.

Cor, you've got to be a three lighter than he is.

Three stone!

Three stone. This will do for your handicap.

Handicap?

One for luck.

No-one said this was a handicap race. - Didn't they?

Must've slipper their mind.

He can't catty that. It's like asking him to pull a cart.

It's the rule. - Which you just made up.

Well that's the good thing about rules. They're like that.

I'm not racing him then.

Yes you are.

Or else there might be an accident.

Damaged tendon.

Your word against ours.

Why?

Because certain bets are laid.

Certain arangements entered into. - I see.

Thought we were all a bunch of country hicks, did you?

Sucking on pieces straw,

Ready to hand our bags of gold dust

to any fancy horse that happens to pass by.

Mount up.

You can do it anyway. He's only a screwny fellow.

You've got to. - Right.

So it's straight out of town.

Turn left at the church, around the dead stump.

And back again.

Ready?

Ready...

Go!

I couldn't warn you. It was all a trap.

And we were the mice, eh? - Did you lose any money on him?

I didn't have much to lose,

But I lost it.

I'm sorry. - Don't grieve, boy.

You did what you could for strangers.

That's all that's ever asked of you.

And you did more than what was asked.

But she's expecting me to find you. Find you and send you home.

I don't think Anna expects much any more.

Come South with me at least. He could still win in a fair race.

I've no more money to bet on him. - Please.

All right, young Dave.

I'll take the South road with you till it ends.

Then we'll see.

What time of night is it?

The worst time.

The hour before dawn

when the frost settles heaviest.

and the new born lambs die

and the new born children.

Doesn't make any sense, does it?

What kind of sense are you looking for?

Well, I thought there was some sense in this journey.

But damned if I can see it now.

All this way for one race and someone else to ride in it.

Perhaps so.

Then would there be more sense in turing back?

No.

Or is selling the horse and taking off for the gold fields?

Not in that either.

Then seems like it's a matter of going on, doesn't it.

Push your luck hard enough and long enough

and sometimes changes in your favor.

Do you believe that? - I work hard at believing it.

It's a funny thing, faith.

It ebbs and flows.

In this hour before the dawn I find

that nothing in the world worth beleiving in.

But once the sun gets up over those hills,

round and red and sweet as honey.

I've half a mind to be out there touching my forehead to the earth

or dancing around like any old black fellow.

Anything to declare? - Nothing.

Nothing.

Just have a look in here.

Never know what you might find.

You wouldn't be selling this horse in Victoria now. Would you?

No I wouldn't.

I'm taking him down to win the Melbourne Cup.

Go on, off you go.

Hello.

You've been to the diggins. - Very bad luck.

Do you mind if we walk along with you?

No pistol, nothing.

We come from Conton. - In the South.

Yes, very big city.

We hear of gold in Australia.

Pay men pleny of money-get on big ship.

Many days below decks.

One day,

big wind come.

Typhoona. - Typhoon.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Some people die.

My wife, she very sick.

Glad you came?

No, very bad luck.

Bail up.

Bail up there.

Come on, none of that! Bail up.

Don't try it Dave.

Get down now, lad.

Now.

And what we've got here.

A chinaman come from the gold fields.

Very bad luck. - We'll see about that.

And a devil of a fine horse.

Which I claim for my own.

And why you should do that?

Because I and this horse are old friens.

We're met before.

You're Alfred.

My dear Davey!

How well you both look! - Archer's no good to you.

He's too well known. You said so yourself.

But not in Victoria, he's not.

It's another country here, or almost.

This way, my friends.

Our reception area lies behild those trees.

So you're not a lord, you're not even a remittance man. You never were.

Yes I was. My family sent me out here all right.

To the other side of the world. And then the money stopped.

I found this the only pursuit for a gentleman of large tastes

and small means.

What's all this for?

Well it's her Majesty's mail we've got stuck up here.

Certain bendigo businessmen have take to cutting in half their bank notes

and sending one half to Melbourne by one mail coach

and half by nest. It's very devious of them,

and all to foil the enterprise of us poor fellows.

All it means, however, is that we must persume

on these good people to the incovenience

of waiting till the next mail coach happens by

so that we can collect the missing harves of the bank-notes,

and no one can raise the alarm.

Now you Davey, if I remember lightly,

have an attractive piece of old silver about you.

No, I have traded it for food. - I doubt that.

Your lucky piece of silver?

Handed down through the generations of your family?

Here it is.

Now kiss your horse goodbye and into the stockade.

Archer my boy,

what a cracker you are eh?

I know that man.

I've seen him before. He was speaking on a platforme in Albury.

I know who you are sir. - Archer.

You're tha man who wants to keep the land locked up. - Archer.

I've heard you speak of it.

If you are one of my constituents, sir,

and if you have anything to say to me

you may write to me care of the Horses of Parliament.

That's if you can write.

I wouldn't waste the paper.

Make him keep talking, make a stir if you can.

No horse i worth a bullet in the back.

You've nothing better to do, than to listen to me sir.

And so you'll listen.

What is yout grievance sir?

It's that you and your like would locked the land up

against the poor man, the honest man.

Let me correct you sir. Against the jealous man.

What did he say? - The jealous man.

The free selector.

The free selector.

Who can put his marker in the gorund

that has already opened up for him and claim it for his own.

Yes, he's the jealous man

who can come afterwards and claim the fruits of the other men's labour.

Labour? What labour?

To squat upon, claim huge tracts of land and claim it for your own?

To fance it, to run beasts across it.

But not to farm it. Not to make it fruitful.

Is that what the free selector does?

On his stolen dusty plot of ground

too small to support himself or his family

while he breads like the very rabbit. Right across the land.

It's not stolen. It's earned.

It's earned with sweat and blood.

Stolen, I say sir, by the jealous man.

It's a law. A law of Parliament.

A man may take the land he needs.

Even thought the squatters still tries to cheat him out of it.

It's a law that I opposed in parliament.

That I shall countinue to oppose it to my last breath.

It means the end of prosperity to this country.

We shall become a nation of peasant farmers,

instead of rewarding those men who out of enterprise and hardship,

opened up this land. - Grabbed the land.

Grabbed it and sat on it like fat spiders filling their bellies.

Fat spiders like you, sir.

Son, round up those sheep.

Our conversation is at an end.

That one there, he's heading for the bush.

You claim to represent the people.

We here, we're the people, aren't we?

It's not often your kind have to listen to us,

but now you'll be listening to us till we're sat free from this place.

That there, that is not sheep!

Save your strength, you'll never catch that horse.

Which way did they go driver? - Well they spread out, five of 'em.

Took off just after he did.

Long gone now. But they did leave the mail and most of the swag.

Well done.

Not so very bad luck then? - No.

Not so very bad luck.

This race, you're going to

seventh of November if I remember rightly.

A little over a week away.

Yes.

Well I suppose the South road doesn't end till it reaches the sea.

Let's press on to Melbourne, shall we?

Yes can I help you chaps?

Any trouble on the road? - No.

He's lost most of his condition.

What did you feed him on?

Look, feel his ribs.

That's not good.

I'd better take care of his feeding from now on,

since you don't seem to know how to.

What do you expect? We've come five hundred and fifty miles over land.

What do you expect?

The horse should be handed over to me now.

Shouldn't he? - No.

Shouldn't he, sir? - No.

You've done a good work Mr Power bringing him so far.

But Jack is the one who has to ride him.

He should be handed over now.

Don't worry, you can still look after his grooming.

Get him looking nice at least.

I've arranged a place where he can train in secret.

The less people who know about him the better.

The book makers are quoting a hundred to one.

Who's that?

A friend sir. We met him on the road. - Mathew Swift.

I see. And are you by any chance a Melbourne man, sir?

No. I'm formerly of New South Wales, west of Gundagai.

I know no one in Melbourne, sir.

And I undertake not to speak of your horse to any person.

Thank you.

Archer is not well known here,

and for his own safety even,

it is better it should remain so.

Well boy,

six days to go and a lot of work to do.

He's tide already. He's got no stamina.

He just won't have the strength to go the distance.

Give him more oats. He doesn't like that mixture. It's too oily.

He'll eat what's good for him.

No he won't. He'll eat what he wants to eat.

Come here.

Eat it, you stubborn devil.

Will you see what you can do with him? - No.

What?

You say I don't know what I'm doing.

I'm telling you. - No.

I'm asking you.

I won't see him go hungry.

Thanks.

Steady boy. Steady.

He's hurt here.

There a rock.

Trust you to find it, lad.

Run to the blacksmith at the cross roads.

They say he's a good horse doctor.

Then see if you can find a doctor for Jack.

Are you the blacksmith?

Well now, I'd find that would be rather hard for me to deny.

Should he be scratched now?

What do you think?

Never scratch a horse till you have to.

Escpecially not a horse like this one.

A little pain won't stop him.

You rub this on his leg every two hours by the clock.

And cover it with a hot cloth.

It's a liniment of my own special brewing.

I make you no promises,

but if anything works this will.

How is Archer?

Will he run?

I don't know.

I hope so, but I don't know.

Let us take him out and try him.

You'll do. Won't you boy? You'll do.

Yes.

We'll run him.

Will Jack be fit in time?

No.

No, Jack will not be fit in time.

And I would not trust a Melbourne jockey to run him.

He could be paid to pull Archer up in the race.

That leaves you.

Me? Sir?

You are big for a jockey, but he is a big horse.

And I would say you'd lost quite a few pounds on the journey down here.

Yes, sir!

He knows you.

I can trust you.

Starve yourself for the next few days. We'll have a chance.

I've got something for you.

A chinaman gave it to me.

You can put it on orcher,

or you can keep it if you like.

By itself it's not enough for a farm.

I'll put it on Archer.

That's 20 quid governor what do you want it on? - All on Archer.

All on Archer. 20 quid on Archer.

You delicious brut!

You really did win, did you?

Not just a story you've made up.

Yes. He won by six lengths.

See here, it is in the paper.

There's his name. - Yes I see.

That's good.

Yes. It was all very good.

Very strange, but good.

So that's that.

I suppose I'll never see you again. Will I?

Yes you will.

I'll be coming back this same way again next year.