Original subtitles

Howdy, folks. I'm the Old Ranger.

The Southwest has more than its share

of tales of the supernatural.

There's the famous story

of the Phantom Stage of Carrizo,

the Lady Ghost of Vallecito,

or the tall tale of the Dancing Skeletons of Yaqui Wells,

to name just a few,

but one of the strangest tales of all

comes from down near the border...

is the ancient legend of the...

What's the matter, chiquita?

Haven't you seen a gringo before?

Are you all right?

My horse threw me.

Last night. No reason.

An owl screeched.

He spooked.

Can't understand it.

He's a gentle animal.

Never threw me before.

Where did it happen, señor?

Over there, near that valley.

El campo santo, Maria.

Miguel... Are you sure we cannot be of help, señor?

Gonna... be all right.

You feel better, señor?

How long have I been asleep?

About an hour.

There is food if you're hungry.

You shouldn't have tried to get up yet.

You are lucky to be alive, señor.

No one should cross the campo santoalone at night.

"Campo santo"?

The Valley of the Dead.

It is only a foolish superstition.

My brother should not repeat it.

What are you talking about?

A hundred years ago

the Mission Purísima Concepción

and the Mission San Pedro y San Pablo

were destroyed in an Indian uprising.

Padre Garcés and everyone in the mission

were massacred.

All that remains today are the graves in the campo santo.

And the ghosts of los padres, señor.

They rise up from those graves,

wearing their long, gray robes

and carrying lighted tapers and chanting,

"It's the procession of the dead."

It is nonsense. I do not believe it.

We see very few gringos this far south.

Where were you going?

Ajos.

You cannot mean that.

That is a place of lost souls,

lost men,

a godless place filled with homeless people.

Why would you want to go there?

The same reason any other man would go there.

Whoa.

Hey, amigo! Miguel!

Hey, Miguel!

Amigo!

Come on, Miguel.

Don't go with him, Miguel.

Not today.

Come on, get in, amigo.

Don't go with him, Miguel.

Buenos días, chiquita mia.

Our language sounds dirty on your filthy tongue.

Buenos días, chiquita mia.

Come on.

He's an evil man.

I pray every day that his influence on my brother will be broken.

Miguel is weak.

It is not his fault.

Our family was very rich.

As a young boy, Miguel had everything...

the finest clothes, horses,

anything he wanted.

Then came the terrible epidemic

that took away our parents, everything.

Now he drinks too much tequila with the saloon girls,

stays away too late.

Who's the gringo?

He calls himself Miller.

They said he's a deserter from the army up north.

He fills Miguel's foolish head with talk of gold.

They prospect more with playing cards.

Miguel lives with impossible dreams.

Chiquita, all dreams are impossible.

That is not true.

Dreaming is for the young

or for fools,

people who haven't got guts enough to face reality.

There are such things as dreams one has

that can come true.

What kind of dreams do you have, chiquita,

your own personal brand of happiness,

a fairy princess in a fairytale?

My dream, señor?

A man, a good man who will love me and I him.

And I will cook and sew for him and make him happy.

Brew very good coffee.

I pray some day he will come.

"Pray."

Is that any different from dreaming?

If I did not have my dreams and my prayers,

I could not live.

There would be no reason to.

When your dream is over,

it'll blow up in your face,

and you'll go running after another dream.

Always running.

And you? You run to Ajos.

It is not right for you to say these things to me!

- Hey, amigo, come on! - You're home!

Hey, wake up! Come on. Get down off there, amigo!

Why did you do this?

- Come on, amigo! - Get off there!

Hey, amigo, we're home.

Why do you do this to him?

Come on, amigo. You're home.

Miguel, come on! Get out!

Kiss. Got this bloom as my little bird.

Let go of me.

Leave her alone.

Uh, you must be the gringo Miguel was talking to me about, huh?

Stay away from the girl.

Amigo, you might've been a lot better off

if you'd stayed on the campo santo.

Good night, my little bird.

I'll come back and...

ruffle your feathers another time, huh?

Come on. Get out of there.

Hyah!

He's a devil.

Let's get your brother inside.

I wish you would change your mind about leaving for Ajos tomorrow.

Soon as I pick up some supplies, I'll be on my way.

Oh. Padre Felipe.

So, you are the Americanowho was thrown from his horse.

I trust your injuries are not too serious.

I'm all right.

Most people avoid el campo santoat night.

Don't tell me you believe

in the Legend of the Ghostly Procession.

God moves in mysterious ways, señor.

Stranger things have happened in this world.

The señor is going to Ajos, padre.

Ajos?

Oh, señor.

It is a dark place, without hope.

So I've heard. MAN: Hyah!

Ha! Ha, ha.

Donde lo encuentro, José?

Cerca la campo santo, padre.

He said he found them near the Valley of the Dead.

And there's one thing that we do know: when he was found,

he was dead! And not only that...

I am puzzled as anyone.

I do not know what an oriental was doing

in this part of the country, especially near el campo santo.

And there were no marks of violence.

The curse of the dead... massacred by the Indians a hundred years ago.

I've seen that procession of the dead with my own eyes.

Skeletons in flowing robes, chanting demons,

and a force of evil that would turn your stomach to ice!

If you've seen these ghosts, how is it you're still alive?

Maybe for the same reason you are: I was lucky.

The only ghosts you ever saw came out of a whiskey bottle.

Listen. Do you hear that?

He was nearly killed himself in campo santo.

And now he's making fun of us! Muy loco.

I-I don't know what to think.

I wouldn't believe anything he said, padre.

Perhaps not.

But others have seen and heard the procession of the dead.

Miracles and dreams and ghosts...

Padre, there's just no room for them in real life.

I'll always be grateful for all you've done for me.

Thank you for everything.

Please, señor, think again before you go to Ajos.

One of the reasons for going is to stop thinking.

If I said anything to shake your faith in dreams,

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.

Maybe I just wanted to keep you from making the same kind of mistake I once did.

You once had a dream?

One of these days, you're gonna learn the emptiness

of trying to live on dreams.

Was it a woman?

Señor...

Take this with you.

No, I... I don't think so.

Please, señor. It is the only thing I ask.

Gracias.

Adiós, Maria.

I think that is the way he would have wanted it.

Padre, what kind of shoes do most of the people wear around here?

Huaraches.Boots. No shoes at all, in many cases.

Why do you ask, señor?

What was the Chinaman wearing?

Slippers, without heels.

That's what I thought. Have you ever seen a coin like that?

It is Chinese, is it not?

Padre, how would you like to see some ghosts?

Ghosts? I do not understand.

It's just a hunch and a few facts.

Bring some friends tonight. Come with me to the campo santo.

With any luck at all, I'll show you how a miracle is put together.

Why did you bring us here, Señor Corbin?

What are we waiting for?

Ghosts, padre.Ghosts.

Madre de Dios.

There are your ghosts, padre.

Ah!

Keep señorand Miller covered.

Come on, padre. Let's take a look at some more ghosts.

Take off your hoods.

Chinese! Mm-hmm.

Some of them are willing to pay a lot of money to get smuggled into this country.

I found a coin around here,

along with some strange tracks.

Made with the kind of slippers an oriental wears.

Miguel! Miguel.

Maria, I did it so we would have some money again.

The legend. If we were seen,

people would think... we were the ghosts

of the dead padres.

And there really are ghosts, Maria. I have seen them.

I can hear them.

They're coming for me now.

Please. Can't you hear them?

Don't let them take me, Maria, please.

Don't let them take me!

What will become of them?

That's up to the authorities.

And you, and your dreams?

That is all I have left now.

Maybe I'll stick around, till you get yourself straightened out.

Gracias, señor.

Must be the wind...

No wind sounds like that.

Coyote, then.

Shh! Listen.

Come. I'll brew some coffee for you.

There are people living today who claim to have seen

the Phantom Procession,

and to have heard the ghostly chanting

in the Valley of the Dead.

Who is to say what is true or untrue...

about the legend?