NARRATOR: The War Between the States tore the nation apart.
Fort Sumter, Bull Run,
Chickamauga, Shiloh,
Vicksburg and, finally, Appomattox.
Colorado had survived the Civil War without coming under fire.
But it had been the battleground of another bloody conflict
over who was rightful ruler of the land.
The Indians, who had roamed its open spaces for hundreds of years
or the white man who had come to build forts and start farms.
There had been a disgraceful massacre by an obsessed militia colonel
named Frank Skimmerhorn,
and retaliation led by the Cheyenne chief, Broken Thumb
and the Pasquinel brothers.
During the hostilities, men of honor, like Major Maxwell Mercy,
worked tirelessly to bring about a lasting peace.
Men of integrity, like the trader, Levi Zendt, stood their ground.
Men of vision, like the farmer, Hans Brumbaugh, began to prosper.
And now, as peace prevailed, yet another kind of man returned.
His name was Oliver Seccombe. And Seccombe was a dreamer.
It was what brought him west with Levi and Elly Zendt in 1844
and what kept him going when Levi and Elly turned back.
Now he would found an empire from the dream of a lifetime.
A ranch that would spread from the Rocky Mountains on the west
to the Nebraska border.
A 150-mile stretch running 50 miles from north to south.
A landholding that dominated an area of 5, 760,000 acres.
A ranch called Venneford.
To make this ranch prosper, Seccombe needed two things,
cattle tough enough to survive on the open range,
and men tough enough to bring them to him.
The cattle were in Texas,
a sturdy, wild breed called longhorns.
The men would be found there, too.
And the man he sent to find them was John Skimmerhorn.
(SINGING IN SPANISH)
Meat and onions.
(WHISTLING)
Señor, I no steal!
Don't worry.
What's that you're cooking?
Señor, onions.
So it is. It just smells like a lot more.
You want some?
Yeah, thanks.
Delicious.
What's in it onions and peppers and sage?
If you know what's in it, then it isn't done right.
You want some more?
Listen to me. I have some real beef here.
You think we could put a little... Real beef?
With real beef, señor, we will have a feast!
JOHN: I haven't had anything tasted that good since back home in Minnesota.
Minnesota? Where is that?
You never heard of Minnesota?
No, señor.
Well, it's a place a long way from here.
Good farmland.
A farm! Yes, I come from farm, too. You know Santa Ynez in Mexico?
Hmm. You a farmer?
No, señor.
Everything I plant won't even grow in Minnesota,
but what I cook tastes good, sí?
Best I ever tasted.
So what do you do?
I cook.
For who?
No work now.
How'd you like to ride for me? Tend to the horses, do the cooking?
Where you heading to, señor? Who knows?
Wherever I can find a trail boss that'll drive a herd north for me.
Going to Kansas? Colorado.
(EXCLAIMS)
What's the matter?
I've always wanted to see Colorado.
Well, then, that's settled.
My name's Skimmerhorn. John Skimmerhorn.
Skimmerhorn? Are you the man who fought the Indians?
You never heard of Minnesota, but you heard of Skimmerhorn, huh?
No, I heard of the massacre, señor. I mean, everybody's heard it.
That was my father.
Did you go with him?
No. Thanks for the meal.
Señor?
My name is Gomez. Ignacio Gomez.
My friends call me Nacho.
I think I know where we can find a man to drive your cattle.
Where's that?
In Palo Pinto County.
Poteet. His name is R.J. Poteet.
I heard the men talk about him.
He's... He's a tall man.
He knows cattle and he knows how to drive them.
Palo Pinto County, where is that?
Oh, two, three days from here if we ride hard.
We?
I'm sorry for the way I acted.
I should know, like everyone else, a man can't help what his family does.
My own brother, he's a priest.
R. J. Poteet!
Poteet?
I'm Poteet.
I'm Skimmerhorn, down from Colorado.
Well, what can I do for you, Mr. Skimmerhorn?
I want you to put me together a good mixed herd.
Well, why mix? If you're selling beef, steers'll trail a lot better.
I'm not selling. We're starting a ranch.
How many you need?
Two, three thousand.
Well, we can get them for you.
But can you get them north?
Well, you know,
if we tried pushing them across western Kansas,
we'll be lucky to keep half the herd, I've tried that.
What can we do?
That all depends on you.
What do you mean?
Well, there's another way, but I wouldn't wanna force it on you.
What way?
About two years ago, a man named Goodnight,
he was something, he headed 2,000 critters far south of here,
right straight across the desert,
then swung them north to Colorado, and Wyoming.
The desert?
That way, his greatest risk was nature, not the Indians or outlaws.
Could it be done again?
It could.
What are your terms?
Eighty cents a head for every animal I deliver.
I pay the crew, you furnish the horses.
How soon could we get started?
Well, the way the weather is shaping up, I'd say a week, 10 days.
Mr. Poteet, you're the man I've been looking for.
Tomorrow, we can put together the herd, you pick your men and we'll head north.
Well, we could start buying right now. Let's go.
Who's the Mexican?
Nacho. He'll be the cook.
Not on my trail, he won't.
(SPEAKING SPANISH) You skinny little, half-baked excuse for a dough-puncher.
Who the hell told you you could ride trail with a Texan?
(SPEAKING SPANISH) I was riding trail in this territory
when you were still learning to speak my language
and riding the chuck line, you big, overgrown, bed louse.
Hey!
Wait just a minute.
What kind of cocinero are you to be calling me names?
I am the cocinero who's gonna fill your big overblown belly when it's empty,
and pour a bottle of painkiller in it when it's aching.
I'm the cocinero who's gonna hold your bets, settle your quarrels,
listen to your complaints and hear your confessions.
I keep my wagon packed tight and my coffee's always hot.
If I didn't think that you were testing me, señor,
I will be holding this the way it should be held.
And you,
you will be blowing hot airs out of more holes than one.
He's a cook?
(SIGHING)
(CHUCKLING)
(GUNS FIRING)
Brumbaugh?
Seccombe.
Looks like you bought out the store.
Well, I don't get to town that often.
I heard you had quite a harvest. Potatoes? Mostly.
What precious little food was transported out here,
I imagine your vegetables sold at a premium.
I suppose you know my profits just as good as I do.
I made inquiries.
And that Mr. Farwell, that came out to ask about buying my land,
that was another one of your inquiries?
Farwell?
Let's don't waste the time. You wanna buy my land.
I don't intend to sell.
You haven't heard my best offer.
I heard what happened to Henry Kolvig when he said no to your best offer.
That's a calumny I don't have to suffer, sir.
I was in Chicago at the time.
You wired a lawyer to buy his land before Henry was buried.
I will not be called a murderer.
And I won't sell my land.
Mr. Brumbaugh, I need your water. So do I.
For potatoes? I'm bringing 3,000 head of cattle onto this land.
I'm creating an industry that will make the territory ready for statehood.
I know what you're doing, Seccombe.
You're taking advantage of the Homestead Act.
You get people to prove up every piece of land that has water on it
and sell it back to you for next to nothing,
then you control all the dry land around it
because no one but you will be able to work your water.
Well, that's a real good idea,
but it doesn't happen to be what the Homestead Act was passed for.
It was passed so men coming out of the war with nothing
could work hard on land that they own.
So they could know some dignity they lost in the terrible fight.
It was passed for farmers, not cows.
And not a bunch of fancy-pantsed English Lords
sitting in their mansions 6,000 miles away.
You really can't see what this ranch will do for this territory, can you?
See what you think it could do for you.
Tell you flat out, you send any nightriders onto my land,
you won't live to see if a Texas cow gets here or not.
RACHEL: Howdy, Mr. Poteet.
Rachel, Nate, say hello to John Skimmerhorn.
Same name, different man.
How do you do, Mr. Skimmerhorn?
Ma'am.
Howdy.
Nate.
How you doing, Nate?
Not bad.
We got the children dressed. I'm getting work here and there.
When you and Mrs. Poteet gonna start bringing me your washing?
Oh, any day now, Rachel.
We're heading north.
When?
Now.
It'll be seven or eight months up and back.
I guess you heard I had to sell my horse.
Yeah.
Well, you can throw your saddle on Baldy here.
He looks sound. He is.
Rachel. Mr. Poteet. Mr. Skimmerhorn.
JOHN: Mrs. Person.
Tell the boys I said goodbye.
How big a herd?
Twenty-eight hundred.
Buy them already?
Shook hands.
Some from Lem Frater, Pardees, Richardson boys,
old Cy Fitch.
We'll pick them up in Jacksborough.
Where we heading them? Kansas?
Colorado.
Colorado?
Starting a ranch up there.
That means you'll be trailing bulls.
That too tough a job for you?
You know I ain't one for complaining.
What trail are you planning on taking?
The way Mr. Goodnight went.
Llano Estacado?
POTEET: Same.
You any idea of the Llano Estacado?
Mr. Poteet says that way avoids the Comanches and the Kansas outlaws.
It does that.
It's got one stretch of 70 miles.
POTEET: More like 80, 90.
An agonizing trail.
It's 200 miles out of the way, south of New Mexico.
That 90-mile stretch ain't got a single drop of water.
He's the boss.
Oh, he's loco.
Beats grubbing day work from the likes of Clem Goodly, don't it?
All to hell. Boss.
Canby!
Yo, Mule!
Must be out back.
Well, hello, Poteet. I hear you're buying cattle like crazy.
We're leaving for Colorado.
Uh-huh, well, I sort of figured you might need me.
When? Now.
Sounds good. You wanna buy my string of horses? They're right over there.
Well, if they're any good.
Why don't you look them over while I get my guns, huh?
See you in a little bit, be right back.
Do it.
He's got some beauties. I'd recommend you buy them all.
Well, it'll cost you.
He loves his horses.
Well, you can't get animals like this in Jacksborough.
And I'd like to use Canby at point along with Nate.
Would make him feel real good if we met his price at the beginning.
Point?
Yeah, when you get your cattle strung out on the trail,
you want your two best men riding up front
on the left and right of the lead steer and a little bit ahead.
That way, if something happens,
you don't have time to explain nothing.
Your points gotta take responsibility on their own.
Now Nate here is the best I've ever seen.
And I trust Canby, too.
Well, let's buy his horses, if his price isn't robbery.
It will be.
Well, how you like them? Huh?
They're good enough. How much?
Well, ten dollars a horse.
Ten dollars?
Stock this good in Colorado would go for...
You sure drive a hard bargain there, Canby.
Well, R.J., them horses have hard feet.
I'll give you $45 for the lot.
You got yourself a deal.
You Skimmerhorn? Yes, sir.
Real pleasure. Nate, you and me riding point, are we?
Yeah, that's right. Well, that's good. Good.
Listen here now, Skimmerhorn...
Look, I appreciate you know a good horse from a bad one,
but you mind some advice? No.
Let R.J. here watch your money, okay?
I'll do that, Canby. Okay.
Man can't trust R.J. Poteet,
he can't trust nobody.
We riding or lollygagging?
We're riding.
Hey.
Mike Laseter.
I know.
We're gonna need another seven hands, R.J.
He stole horses.
Well, I know, but that was a long time ago.
You won't find a better cowboy in the whole county.
I'll get them in Jacksborough.
Canby. Hello, Mike.
Mr. Poteet, I'm Mike Laseter.
I know who you are.
I'd like to ride with you.
Don't need you.
Well, you need a good dozen. I count only four.
Five.
The pepper-gut?
He's no thief.
Now how is it a man like you, goes off to war, loses all his money, he can earn it back?
A man like me,
he looses his good name, he can't earn it back no matter how hard he tries?
I been looking on a lot of trails, Mr. Poteet.
I been crossing rivers from sundown to hell.
Mr. Poteet?
He can ride.
I'll even ride drag. You need a good man back there in the dust.
All right.
All right, Laseter. But let me spell out my rules real clear.
Now, a man needs work as bad as you say you do, I'll see that he gets it.
He's hungry, I'll see he gets fed.
He needs shelter, I'll see he gets a warm bunk,
but, by God, he steals from me,
I'll see he's hanged.
Thank you, sir!
You know where he's taking us?
Llano Estacado.
Mr. Goodnight when he come back
he called it the graveyard of cowman's hopes.
All gotta get buried sometime, might as well be with a man like R.J. Poteet.
Nacho, give Sanderson a look at this. Tell him I want a special type wagon
with something like a desk on the rear end there,
plenty of drawers to hold things, table top pulls out when we stop.
NACHO: You drew this?
I'm no artist.
The drawers, how big?
Well, I'm no cabinetmaker either.
Just give it to Sanderson. He'll figure it out.
And barrels. This should have two barrels.
One for flour, one for beans.
Beans? You danged Mexicans can't live without beans, can you?
The way he makes them, you'll think you were part Mexican yourself, Canby.
All right, Nacho, it's your wagon.
You want some barrels on there, just build them on.
Yeah, but hooks, we need hooks all around...
Tell it to Sanderson, will you?
Okay, boss. We're gonna build us some wagon!
Beans.
We got some hands to hire.
Those are the trail hands you said were waiting?
We all looked like that at sixteen.
Yeah, but we weren't trailing cattle.
I was.
Hey, that's our toughest job. Taking them as calves
and turning them into strong young bulls.
I'm Poteet.
Well, I guess you heard that I... I need an outfit.
I'm glad to say, I don't see a coward among you.
Coward would never come looking for trail work.
But a weakling...
A weakling won't start this drive, I don't care how much sand he shows.
Man's unfit, never make it to where we're headed.
Now the kind of men that I'm looking for,
will fight just because I ask them to.
They'll lose three nights' sleep hand-running,
spend 72 hours in the saddle without a rest
just because there's a job to be done.
And each one knows that he's the only one that can do it.
Now the herd's being held just south of town.
Anybody feels he measures up, I'll see him there at 2:00.
POTEET: Come on. Come on.
It's a Crown V. What do you think?
I like it. Good!
But I thought it was just gonna be a V.
Well, an outfit down the line's already using that.
I tried Lazy V, Bar V, Diamond V,
they were all taken. Then I remembered that you said
this Venneford fella was a king or something.
An earl.
Yeah. Well, anyway, I figured he'd be wearing a crown.
And even if he don't, his cattle can.
Boss? Hmm?
It's about 2:00.
Thank you.
What's your name, son?
Ragland, sir.
Trailed before?
No, sir.
Well, you're an honest man, Mr. Ragland.
Don't let this drive change you none.
No, sir. Thank you, sir.
Name?
Calendar.
Anybody tell you where we're headed?
Just so it's out of here.
You in trouble?
Well, not with the law.
You'll do.
What's your name, cowboy?
Savage, sir. William Savage.
Ever do any soldiering?
My daddy did. Before the war. Fighting Apaches.
(CHUCKLES)
Well, step over there, Mr. Savage.
Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.
I know you?
No, sir.
You sure?
Yes, sir.
It was my brother. He served in your company, Captain Poteet.
Gompert?
Yes, sir.
Of course. He's a brave man.
Yes, sir.
My mother read me your letter.
She know you're here?
She died last year, sir.
Well, Mr. Gompert, why don't you
uncinch your saddle there and throw it on one of our horses.
That old nag that you're riding doesn't look like she's up to where we're headed.
Yes, sir.
Is that it?
Well, I could use another one, I don't know where I'll find him.
What about the loner, sitting on the ground?
Call him Buck. I hear he's a pretty good man with a remuda
if you can stand the smell. Huh.
Yeah, he's a wonderful-looking sort all right.
Well, he ain't got to hang around too close.
Well, if he's good with horses, hire him, smell or not.
Agreed.
Buck? Sir?
Need a wrangler. Can you handle it?
You bet.
Well, listen, why don't you get acquainted with the stock?
They're in your hands now.
You bet.
Well, boys, that's it. Thanks for turning out.
Who's the boss?
There's a hole in that saddle.
Yeah, that's a McClellan.
Looks like a pincher to me.
Where's the horn?
POTEET: That ain't a real saddle.
Not for a man, anyways.
(COWBOYS WHOOPING)
One of you be the boss?
You're looking at him.
My name is Coker. Buford Coker, they call me Bufe.
Yeah, Mr. Coker. Where'd you get the saddle?
Took it off on a blue-coat officer.
That revolver. That's a LeMat?
Where'd you get the LeMat?
Took it off on a gray-coat officer.
Where you from?
South Calinky.
You sure you want to go north?
Well, sir, I been moving for some time now.
Well, we might find a place for you.
Mexican over at the wagon shop said there was one.
Well, I said we might find a place for you. Depends on whether my top hand here
thinks you fit.
I'll fit.
Mr. Person, you think you can work with this young gentleman?
This trail could be as dangerous as that war you was in, soldier.
You ever run from anything, Mr. Person?
Nothing worth remembering.
Well, neither have I.
I think he might be a good one, Mr. Poteet.
You think you can work with Mr. Person?
Well, I worked with Colonel Biggerstaff,
I figure if you can work with a son-of-a...
Well, a hard-tail like that,
a man ought to be able to work with a gentleman like Mr. Person here.
All right, Coker. This gentleman'll cut you out a horse.
All right, boys. Let's get them branded.
POTEET: Pick it up!
LASETER: Believe this is about the best branding I've ever been to.
With damn good whiskey, too.
I ain't had none this good since I was in Abilene with old O.D. Cleaver.
O.D. Cleaver? You know old O.D.?
Know him? Hell, me and old O.D. was in a brawl one night so bad,
old O.D. woke up in the morning with a broken leg,
one arm in a sling, his head in a bandage,
one of his eyes is all black shut.
That's O.D. all right.
Well, now, he come to me the next morning, he says,
"What in the world happened last night?"
And I told him, "Well,
"you know that old drummer boy?
"Well, you bet him that you could jump out the window,
"fly plum around the hotel
"and come back in the very same window."
You mean to tell me he was your friend and you let him do that?
Let him? I lost 10 dollars on him myself.
(ALL LAUGHING)
(WHOOPING)
Jeez, Buck! I wish you'd either stay with the horses or walk downwind.
Yeah, Buck.
Yeah, what's the matter, don't you like water?
No, I ain't afraid of water.
Matter of fact, I kind of appreciate it every once in a while.
For a chaser.
Now, Buck, that is the one time I don't like it. Puts the fire out.
Now you think Canby here likes his whiskey,
it ain't nothing like the Injuns go crazy for it.
Few months back, I'm riding with O.D. Cleaver myself
and both of us got us a quart in our saddle pockets,
and we meet this Injun.
Well, sir, he sees what we got and he offers us the horse he are riding,
and another one he's leading, for that red-eye.
I'm telling you, a man wants a saddle horse, those two were worth
$100 each and we only paid $6 for that tonsil-varnish we're packing.
It was so bad, it'd raise blister on a rawhide boot.
Well, did you make the trade?
Trade? Hell, no. It was all the booze we had.
Well, better drink up.
That's the last whiskey anybody gets for months.
There'll be no drinking.
If I catch anybody on the trail with a bottle, he gets paid off fast.
Less the cost of one horse, which he can take with him along with his own.
Now, come on now, R.J.
There'll be no gambling, either.
What?
None! Absolutely none.
It breeds discontent
and I aim to ride a peaceable trail.
Now there's some trail bosses who don't even allow swearing,
but I don't see how in the hell
that we can handle 2,800 of these ornery bastards without it.
Well, that's the law.
It's easy to understand, it's easy to keep.
Couple of other things.
You keep your gun in your belts.
I don't want no gunfire, not even in a stampede.
Waving your hat, that's a lot better for heading off steers.
And if the time comes that we need guns,
you'll know it.
Now the most important thing.
We got a bunch of younger fellas with us this time,
so maybe I should remind everybody what a cowboy is.
Sometimes he has to fight Indians.
Sometimes he requires fancy riding and tricky rope work,
which I'm sure all of you can do.
And at other times, especially in Kansas,
he has to protect his herd against outlaws.
And when he comes to towns, which we won't be doing on this trail,
he's supposed to drink his weight in liquor and throw his money to the girls.
(ALL LAUGHING)
Well, all that to one side.
It's important, but it ain't necessary.
Now, to me a cowboy is a man that tends cows.
All day, every day.
And Mr. Skimmerhorn's cows out yonder, that's the reason that we're here.
And getting them to Colorado in one piece,
that's your only responsibility.
I hope you understand that.
God help you if you don't.
(MEN GOADING CATTLE)
Shoo, cow. Shoo, cow. Shoo.
Shoo cow.
(WHISTLING)
Let's take them north!
Come on, Apple.
(WHOOPING)
(MEN GOADING CATTLE)
Can I help you, son?
Yes, sir, I'm looking for Mr. R.J. Poteet.
You found him.
Mr. Poteet, my ma says to please ride over and see her.
Who's your ma?
Emma Lloyd.
You Tom Lloyd's boy?
Yes, sir.
(CHUCKLES)
Well, how is old Tom?
(SIGHS)
He's dead. He didn't get back from the war.
What's your name, son?
Jim.
Nacho, get word to Nate that he's to take the herd till I get back.
Yes, sir.
Emma?
R.J., Bless me, you look just fine.
Just fine!
Jim here told me that Tom didn't make it back.
Him and too many others.
What can I do for you?
I need you to buy my cattle, R.J.
Well, pretty much got my string, Emma.
So Jim told me when he got back from Jacksborough.
I sent him to offer ours there.
Got there too late.
I rode all night, but you's all gone when I got there.
Well, Emma, we just got about every head that we need.
I'm sure of it, R.J.,
but, well, we haven't had a cent of spending money in over a year.
I just gotta sell my cattle.
How many kids you got?
Three boys. Jim's the oldest.
Could I see the others?
Boys, come on out here.
This is J. C.
and this is little Tom.
Yeah, he... He does favor him some.
Boys, this is Mr. R.J. Poteet,
a good friend of your father's for many years.
And of mine.
Howdy.
J.C.
Now, the reason that I'm here is
because you brother told me about your pa,
and I reckon that if it was me that didn't make it back instead of him,
I'd like to think that he'd look in on my family
if they ask.
And I'd like to think he'd light into them a little, if they needed it
and I think that you boys just might need it.
You ought to clean this place up. Cattle out there.
Could be in lot better shape than it is. A lot better.
Jim, do you do the chores? Help your ma?
I mean, you're men now, and you got to begin to act like it.
(SIGHING)
I'll take your cattle, Emma. How many you got?
Hundred and fifty.
I'll take them on consignment.
Two dollars a head now, plus whatever I can get at Fort Sumner.
Thank God. Oh, God bless you, R.J.
Oh, Jim?
There's one more thing.
What's that?
Would you consider taking Jim with you?
Well, he's only a boy.
Just said I was a man.
How old are you, Jim?
Sixteen.
That's impossible.
Your mother here's only sixteen.
Your pa and me, we've been arguing all week
about who's gonna ask her to the dance down at the church in Jacksborough.
(CHUCKLING)
As I remember, your pa took her on account I couldn't find a clean shirt.
Sixteen.
Well, I guess if Tom Lloyd's boy says so, it's gotta be a fact.
I've seen you ride, can you throw a rope?
Yes, sir.
It's a deal.
But when the trail's over, you don't get any wages.
Why not?
Because I'm giving them to your mother now.
Well, I'm telling you, it's unlucky.
Yep, I've heard. Me, too.
Thirteen men. That ain't no way to trail cattle.
Something wrong, boys?
GOMPERT: Well, we got ourselves 13 now, Mr. Poteet.
Nothing against him, but we got ourselves an unlucky number now.
Who says?
Come on, Mr. Poteet.
Everybody knows 13's bad luck.
Well, that's a fact.
That's right.
You wouldn't catch me trailing with 13 men in an outfit neither, no!
But that's not what we got here.
Begging your pardon, sir, but...
I think what Mr. Poteet means, boys, is that
I represent the owners
and, so, that means this outfit really only has twelve.
Is that right, Mr. Poteet?
That's exactly right, Mr. Skimmerhorn.
I don't think anybody's ever heard of twelve being unlucky, have they?
You know, I think they tricked us.
How's that?
Now you watch.
If someone else wants to join up, they'll count Skimmerhorn
and say it still isn't thirteen, it's fourteen.
Well, that's why we're just the punchers,
and they're the owners.
Don't take it personal, Jim.
You know, the best of men
we'll never ride with in anyplace on this earth,
but the worst of them ain't all that bad either.
Trouble?
Old Man Taylor was born thinking trouble.
Better hold the herd, Mr. Skimmerhorn,
get Nate and Canby, anybody else we can spare, make sure they're armed.
Yes, sir. Come on!
Howdy, R.J.
Uncle Dick.
We heard you was moving north.
That's right.
I guess you don't recollect this crossing's on my spread.
It's always been open.
Well, things ain't exactly like they used to be, R.J.
You kind of have to think different now.
Just how is it you're thinking, Uncle Dick?
Well, I was thinking
you brought your herd up to the crossing to water them down
for a long hard drive.
Now if you back them out of here, the nearest crossing is gonna put you a fair piece
out of the way, not to mention the time I don't suppose you'd want to be losing.
You got a price on that inconvenience?
Well, let's say ten cents a head.
Say that's too much.
Well, this is my crossing and that's my price.
Well, I'm bringing through 2,950 head.
R.J., we'll do the counting. You just do the paying.
You're being downright unreasonable, Uncle Dick.
I'm being downright practical, R.J.
I own this land and you'll pay to cross it.
Or what?
Or I'll stampede that herd from here to Mexico.
Well, I'll tell you, Uncle Dick,
if you try and stampede that herd,
I sure hope you got a shovel.
A shovel?
Yeah.
Cook broke the handle out of ours.
You go to stampeding my cattle and I aim to kill you.
Unless you got a shovel, we can' t get you buried.
Well, you can't talk to a Taylor like that!
When I'm talking to the wrong end of a horse, I'll talk any way I see fit.
Hold it!
Anybody else honing for a fight? Better get your praying done.
Those men behind him are scared, Uncle Dick.
That's a fact.
But a steady man like R.J. here is just trying to make a point.
Scared men kill.
Tell you what I'm gonna do, R.J.
Five cents a head.
Four, and I do the counting.
(CHUCKLES)
Done.
All right, boys, let's bring them through, we're burning daylight.
(COWBOYS EXCLAIMING)
Fine!
Hey, Buck, you gonna wash up?
Not likely.
Buck, what's the Lord gonna say when you get up in heaven smelling the way you do?
It's just my body that smells.
And I plan on leaving that down here.
(LAUGHING)
You picked some good ones.
Looks like.
You know, they were all ready to stand behind you.
Well, I'll tell you, that was the easy part.
The other side of this water the ground gets so hard
that we'll cross it without leaving track.
Then we'll run into a stretch of alkali.
Get in your nose, your throat, your boots and your privates.
If it gets in your water, it'll rust your boilers.
Enough of it'll kill the orneriest steer in the herd,
but even knowing that, you'll drink it
'cause it could be all that you'll find.
What I'm telling you, Mr. Skimmerhorn, is,
I'm getting ready to lead this outfit into hell for a while.
Now, I think that I can lead us out again, but there's no guarantee.
I didn't ask for any.
That's right, you didn't.
Bring them up in here!
Yeah!
(MEN GOADING CATTLE)
Come on. Come on.
Here, cattle. Here, cattle.
Llano Estacado. What's it mean?
Staked plains.
When Spanish explorers first crossed it,
they drove stakes in the ground so they could find their way back.
Stakes still there?
(CHUCKLES)
Kind of wish that you hadn't asked that.
(HARMONICA PLAYING)
Strange not seeing a single tree.
Indians call it the land of the backshade people.
Backshade?
Not a single shrub, or a tree.
Man's got to sit in the shade of his own back.
What are you doing?
The North Star.
See, when it's gone in the morning,
tongue of the wagon will point the way.
The star tells the time too, when you're riding nighthawk.
How?
Every 24 hours the Big Dipper swings completely around it.
It won't take you long to know when two hours have passed
that's how long it takes you to ride.
My people call it El reloj de los Yaquis.
The clock of the Yaquis.
(LASETER SINGING)
Mr. Poteet.
Laseter.
Everything quiet?
Like a church.
Well, that worries me some.
Why's that?
Well, I gotta figure that what you know about a church
wouldn't fit into a spent cartridge.
(CANBY SINGING)
That Canby?
Should be.
POTEET: Well...
What happened, them beans get to you?
Don't go riding my cook. He's a good one.
I'd never thought I'd see the day, R.J.
You seeing anything out there or you riding around with your eyes closed as usual?
Saw O.D. Cleaver.
Something on your mind?
Mescalero Apache country.
We raise a lot of dust.
Yeah. I thought about that, too.
They see it, they might get curious.
Tomorrow I'm gonna send Nate on up ahead to scout.
He can keep his eye open for trouble
and water.
Good idea. You want me to take left point?
Yeah.
Mike,
with the boy riding drag, I want you to take over up front on the right.
I'll take care of it, real good, Mr. Poteet.
I know. Just keep your ears forward.
Them Apaches can slip the boots right off your feet.
(SIGHING)
(SINGING)
(WHISTLING)
(HORSE NEIGHING)
My horse.
That was my bay out there! Somebody got her!
Mine, too.
They got mine. Who was it?
Apaches. Let's get them!
JOHN: Wait! Wait! Nobody's going anywhere!
They got my horse!
No, wait! Now, a few horses are not worth losing the whole herd!
Ah, Mr. Poteet,
Indians took some horses.
They got my bay out there, and I'm going after it!
Gompert!
You ride out, you keep going right on back to Jacksborough.
Now, those Indians just stole a few horses.
They've been doing that for centuries.
I want everybody mounted up and on guard for a stampede,
not an Indian attack.
And the first man that fires a gun, and I don't care for what,
better be ready to use it again
when he sees me coming for him.
All right, you heard the man. Move out!
And move out quiet.
Mr. Canby! Hmm?
Mr. Poteet said I should ask you to lend me a gun.
But I wanna buy it.
With what?
With money. When I get paid.
You ain't getting paid. Everybody knows R.J. gave your wages to your ma.
Well, I'll get the money somehow.
Well, I got me an Army Colt, so I guess I...
I could borrow it to you.
I don't want to borrow it. I want to buy it.
All right. Ten dollars.
And I'll throw in the bullets.
I'll pay you someday. That's a promise.
Fair enough.
Don't put no cartridge beneath the hammer.
Why not? One good bump and you'll be shy a foot.
Man who packs six cartridges don't know dung from wild honey.
That's true enough.
Man can't do the job in five shots,
it's time he got the hell out of whatever it was he is in.
Might as well saddle up.
Never carried a gun before.
Well, you're a man now. It's time.
See, God made some men big and some men small...
But Colonel Colt, he made them all equal.
Did you ever fight with one?
Only way I know how.
Good Lord wanted me to fight like a dog,
he'd have given me long teeth and claws.
You ever kill anybody?
Once.
Why?
'Cause he was a thief.
Outlaw.
And just a little slow.
CANBY: That, too.
Jim, boss wants us to gather up them strays, he's ready to move.
Right.
Thank you again, Mr. Canby.
Jim?
There's just one rule
I want you to promise you'll keep.
If you ever have to face a man with that gun...
Yes, sir?
You always look that man square in the eye.
Let him know what you aim to do.
Don't never smile and shoot.
I'll promise you that, too, Mr. Canby.
(MEN WHISTLING)
(MEN GOADING CATTLE)
Mr. Poteet? I can handle them.
It's not you, Bufe, it's them.
They know that there's water behind them, not much up ahead.
A normal run, it's the point that needs special attention.
A Hell's Reach like this, it's the drag
so they don't turn back on us.
Mr. Skimmerhorn?
What's Colorado like?
Clean.
I like it already.
It's bound to be one of the great states someday.
Better than Texas?
Better scenery.
Better chance for a young man.
You lived there long?
A year.
You have a family?
Wife, daughter.
And a son on the way!
(LAUGHING)
Hey cow!
Gap's dead ahead. Fourteen miles past it's the Pecos.
How's the water?
Sweet in one spot.
North and south it's all stagnant, pure alkali. Kill every cow that drinks it.
Is it marked?
There's a sign that says Horsehead Crossing.
Line of skulls tell you why.
Well, tell Nacho to let you sleep in the wagon for a spell. You look peaked.
(GOADING CATTLE)
Here, haul up there! Let her go!
She's one of ma's, Mr. Poteet. She's hurting bad.
Needs water. Some of them don't make it.
It's all right, son.
Jim! Jim!
Get up, Bessie. Please get up!
Is that Jim?
One we bought from his ma.
Get up! Get up!
(SOBBING)
(GUN SHOT)
I raised her.
She dropped good calves.
You did right.
I won't ever see my mother again.
There's no way of knowing that, Jim.
I know.
I won't ever see her again.
My brothers, either.
I won't ever go back.
Jim.
You ready now?
Yes, sir.
POTEET: Don't let them go through the water! Stop them!
Hold those cattle!
(YELLS)
Come on, Canby, get over there! Watch where you're going!
Open them cattle!
Break them up!
(GOADING CATTLE)
Dust, hell.
That alkali weren't nothing
to what me and old O.D. Cleaver come through
when we was finishing up an Indian scout one time.
Nothing could've been worse than that alkali.
I don't see how.
I'll tell you how.
Wind never stopped blowing, that's how.
Three days and three nights.
Sand covered up every blade of grass, even the mesquite bushes.
We's riding down through the sand hills between El Paso and Alamogordo,
now you know what that's like.
I'll take it to that alkali.
Well, that's 'cause you wasn't there when we found the hat.
The hat? Yes, sir.
A man's hat lying there on top a sand dome
when the wind died down.
Was a real nice hat, too. Like someone cared for it real good.
So old O.D., he climbs down to pick it up, don't you know,
smack underneath it
there's a head.
A head?
What did you do?
Well, I climbed down beside old O.D.
and we start scratching the sand out of the eyes,
and the ears, and the mouth with our fingers
and then danged if that old head didn't look right smack up at both of us
and start talking...
It talked? That's right.
What did it say?
It says, "Get a shovel, boys,
"I'm on horseback."
Jim, I think there's some strays over there
I'm gonna go check up in this draw here.
Oh, there you are, huh?
Okay, now. Come on, cow, let's go. Back to the herd.
POTEET: Comanches!
What are they doing so far west?
Looking for more than horses.
Ragland!
Keep the herd over there! I don't want a stampede!
(GUNS FIRING)
(WHOOPING)
Canby! My arm. I think it's coming off.
Stay down, you hear? You just stay right there.
Shoot! You!
POTEET: All right, boys!
Hold your fire!
You held them, boys! You held them!
They won't be coming back.
You all right, Mr. Skimmerhorn? Yes, sir. Good work, Nate!
Thank you. You all ought to seen old Jim.
He dropped that chief when he was right on top of me.
I killed him? I sure as hell didn't.
(STUTTERING) Someone else's bullet, maybe.
No, sir.
The chief was yours, Jim.
RAGLAND: Mr. Poteet!
He took a hatchet, Mr. Poteet.
Mule?
It's my shooting arm, R.J.
It's near clean off.
Calendar,
tell Nacho I'll need the wagon for a couple of days,
tell him to take everything off it that he needs in the way of supplies.
Yes, sir.
We'll be going for Fort Chadbourne...
No, no!
No, they'll cut it off. I can't lose my gun arm.
I might as well die as lose my gun arm.
You're not gonna die.
I ain't letting nobody cut off my gun arm.
All right. All right.
I mean nobody.
Nobody.
R.J.?
Mr. Skimmerhorn?
(SIGHS)
He's gonna be losing his arm. We gotta see he doesn't lose his life.
What do you need?
A wagon, a couple of rifles, some ammunition.
I'll head for the fort. I'll go with you.
No.
You keep the herd moving.
If I was you, I'd see that Mr. Person there wears the money belt.
We're still south, Mr. Skimmerhorn.
Ain't nobody gonna be looking for money on me.
All right.
Whoa!
He can do one of two things.
Get well or die quick.
That ain't no way to talk.
That's how I'd want it if it was my gun arm.
Will he die?
Just knowing he might is reason enough not to ride too close to any man.
No matter how much sand a man's got, he can always die when you need him most.
Now Mr. Skimmerhorn and Mr. Person will be running this outfit till I get back.
Well, stop burning daylight and let's get the herd moving.
(GOADS HORSES)
Problem?
Tired, overworked,
like everyone else.
I'm gonna bring in the new team.
No, don't do that. What?
What he just done.
Mr. Person, we been in them saddles 40 hours straight.
Don't throw yourself on the ground like that.
When a cowboy sits down, there's nine things can happen to him,
and eight of them are bad.
What are you talking about?
He can sit on a cactus, or embers from a fire,
somebody's plate, a Gila monster, a scorpion,
cow flop, someplace a steer's made his mud,
worst of all, a rattlesnake.
If he's lucky, one time in nine,
he'll get a little rest, so look out, both of you.
Especially you, Jim,
you already had your good luck just now.
You know something, Bufe,
I don't care if there was a rattlesnake here.
I couldn't take another step.
I know what you mean.
LASETER: Snakes?
I mean there's more snakes than I'd ever seen before.
Little rattlers, big rattlers.
There must've been 50 or 60 of them danged crawlers in there.
Jim?
You all right, boy?
What? I said you all right?
Yep.
Where's my horse?
I put him on the picket line.
Your bed roll's over there.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to go to sleep like that.
You worked hard.
You want some food?
I'll get it for you, Jim-boy,
it's a real treat tonight. Bet you never had anything this good.
I thought you say you didn't like my cooking?
Well, you ain't never cooked snake before.
Snake?
Yeah, it's about the best I ever had.
Laseter? You want couple of helpings?
No!
I'll just get some more rest before night duty.
Well, suit yourself. You mind if I have your share?
No, go right ahead.
All right.
You know how they make rattlesnake meat so tender?
Milk. Did you know that, Jim?
What? They just love milk.
That's what makes it so juicy and sweet.
Milk?
I mind old O.D. Cleaver,
he's coming home from buying a little milk cow
if there's one animal on this earth hates the rattler, it's the milk cow,
'cause the rattler, he loves milk more than anything.
He'll just creep up on a cow, he'll just suck her dry.
I don't believe no cow's gonna allow that.
Well, I'm telling you, I mean old O.D. Cleaver,
he was leading this milk cow home when all of a sudden,
she just keels over,
and he looks over and there's this six foot rattler
(MAKING SUCKING NOISE)
sucking away.
I don't think rattlers can suck like that.
Even if they could, it wouldn't drain her like you said.
You saying it didn't happen?
Well, I wasn't there, but I doubt it.
You calling O.D. Cleaver a liar?
He seen it, goldangit. You calling O.D. Cleaver a liar?
No, I'm not. If he seen it, I...
That's better.
You ought to try some of that snake, Jim. It's good.
No, thanks.
Well, now you sleep tight, hear?
(SCREAMING)
Good Lord, boy, what's wrong?
There's a snake in my bed, a rattlesnake! No!
When I pulled my boots off, and put my feet in it...
Did it bite you? No.
Check! I don't think so.
Well, you better check!
Did it get you?
Sure had a good chance at me though.
Yeah.
He must have been sleeping or dead.
Yeah, can't be too careful.
He was dead, I...
I don't think Buck'd be brave enough to pick up a live one and put him in my bed.
(GRUNTING)
Hey!
You're all right.
(CALENDAR SINGING)
Calendar?
Yep.
That rabbit Nacho cooked up tonight,
Savage told me you dropped one of them on a run at 100 yards.
Yep.
That's some kind of rifle you got.
That rifle was made by Christian Sharp out of Harper's Ferry.
Some kind of shooting, too. How you do that?
I looked.
(SINGING)
Mind company?
I'd like it.
You did well back there.
Barely.
I've seen some couldn't take it.
Still wondering, why'd they do it?
Oh.
Well, a couple reasons, I guess.
Out here a man's got to know who he can depend on and who he can't to keep his head.
You get in a tight spot, that's no time to find out who's steady.
Another, tends to get lonesome out here, don't it?
Mighty.
Well, laughing kills lonesome.
I guess it does at that.
(SINGING)
Good evening, gents.
Any more of that rabbit left?
I suspect so. Jim didn't eat much.
Jim, you don't know what you're missing. That Nacho is some kind of cook.
(SINGING)
They all sing. How come?
The confidence a steer's got in the night is a might frail.
Somehow just hearing a man singing
keeps them settled.
Like a mammy and her baby,
they need to hear something steady and calm,
not sounding scared.
That property Coker sings about. What was it exactly?
Slaves.
Were you a slave, Mr. Person?
Was born one.
What I like most about trailing cattle is
that you work hard for a man like Mr. Poteet,
but you're free to leave any time you don't like it.
No cowboy is any man's slave.
PERSON: That's the Arkansas.
LASETER: We wait for Poteet here?
No, he said to keep on moving, he'll catch up.
We could get half across today, the rest in the morning.
I don't wanna split them up.
Tell the boys to hold them this side once they're watered down.
Mike, I want Nacho's camp
and the remuda moved to the left flank tonight.
Extra guard on the right, Calendar, I think.
Kind of edgy, ain't you? Well, I'd rather be edgy than...
(GUN SHOT)
They got Laseter!
Who? Rustlers.
They're trying to split the herd.
(GUNS FIRING)
(SHOUTING)
You all right, Jim?
I think so.
Let me see it now.
Yeah, it's just a crease.
You got him.
Yeah.
(YELLS)
Let them go.
Who were they?
The Pettis boys. Couple of brothers from Kansas.
JOHN: How could you tell?
POTEET: Them hard-boiled hats.
Let's round up the herd!
They's outlaws, Bufe. Killers.
Confederates.
They killed Laseter.
And I killed my own brother.
You understand that, Jim? I killed one of my own.
Nacho?
Like to have a board off your wagon.
A board?
I gotta at least put up a marker.
Give us two. We'll need one for Laseter.
Well, here I thought I was so all-fired smart pushing us across the desert,
to keep away from the Comanches and the Kansas outlaws,
and we get hit by both of them. We might as well have gone straight north.
That way we'd have been hit by both of them on their own ground.
They'd have had more men. Your way was right.
Not for Laseter. Or Canby.
Tell you, I'd as soon they'd cut off my arm as to watch him scream the way he did.
At least he's alive.
You ever see a one-armed cowboy?
He'll manage somehow.
He's a rare breed. You all are.
As tough as those cows you sold me.
This ever strike you funny, Skimmerhorn?
What's that?
Well, the two of us breaking trail together.
You mean a Rebel and a Yank?
Yeah.
You know, yesterday we were trying to kill each other.
Today, because of all this, we can't live without each other.
You figure it out, let me know.
Things just got unraveled for a while, I guess.
Beliefs, values.
Hey, you know, I got a hunch that this trail-driving business is just gonna
point a lot of people in the same direction.
I hope so, Mr. Poteet. I sure hope so.
There's a rider.
It's Mr. Seccombe.
Mr. Skimmerhorn.
You're a sight for sore eyes.
Glad to see you, too, Mr. Seccombe.
This is R.J. Poteet, the man who got us here.
Mr. Poteet. Forever in your debt, sir.
Well, the price is 80 cents a head, Mr. Seccombe.
That'll clear you.
All right.
Well, Jim, pasture's dead up ahead.
It's a land made for cattle, all right. Air's clean even riding drag.
We'll hit the end of the trail soon.
I sure wish Laseter was here to see it.
And Canby.
Still owe Mr. Canby ten dollars.
Maybe we'll run into old O.D. Cleaver up here.
You can give it to him.
I'm sure he'll see that Canby gets it.
Mr. Person, I don't really believe there ever was an O.D. Cleaver.
There's got to be an O.D. Cleaver, Jim.
As long as cowboys is trailing steers.
I guess you're right.
What about you, Jim?
Y'all gonna go back home to your family?
No. I'm just one more mouth that they can't feed.
What about your family, Bufe?
Was that man you shot really your brother?
Yeah, he was my brother just like you're my brother.
I figure two fellas eat drag dust together for four months,
that sort of makes them brothers, don't it?
I guess so.
If you ever need anything, Jim.
You, too, Bufe.
You did a splendid job, John.
They did the work.
Their work. You did yours.
I want you to keep on doing it.
I'm no cowman.
Well, you're the best one I know.
I want you to run Venneford.
Well, Mr. Seccombe...
(CLEARS THROAT)
Well, to tell the truth, I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't asked me.
Good. That's settled, then. Okay.
You'll move your family onto the ranch. I'll build you quarters
fitting your position.
I'll need help.
I leave that to you.
Men I can trust.
There's a boy who came north with us.
A boy?
Well, like Mr. Poteet said,
once you've trailed cattle from Jacksborough through the Llano, you grow up fast.
He helped fight off the Kansas outlaws. He killed a Comanche chief.
Part of the reason your cattle are here is because of that boy.
Well, as I said, it's your choice.
What's his name?
Jim Lloyd.
Coker! They're straying over there!
Yes, boss.
Jim. Well, this is the trail's end.
I heard.
I'd like... I'd like for you to hear something from me.
Sir?
You know, if...
If I was your own pa, I couldn't be prouder
of the way that you've come through.
I'd like to shake your hand.
Thank you, Mr. Poteet. You betcha.
I'd like to give you something, too.
Oh, no, sir. That wasn't our deal.
All right, son.
Well, you think you'll be sticking with this kind of work?
Yeah, if I can find it.
Now, the trick is finding men like you that'll do it.
It's a big, wind-blistered world we're riding through, Jim.
I just hope it'll last a little while longer.
Why wouldn't it?
Well, because when men like you and me
point the way to where a town can be built,
then other men come along and they build it.
Settlers that want a home or a title, a piece of ground.
And they'll kill to keep it.
But if you're as much like me as I think you are, you won't fight for that.
You'll only care about what you're responsible for. Your horse
and your herd.
I don't know, Jim, maybe...
Maybe we're just too restless to inherit the earth.
(GOADING CATTLE)
(WHISTLING)