Hello. I'm James Michener.
And those peaks are part of a majestic mountain range we call the Rockies.
Granite giants that have been a part of this land forever,
that symbolize our nation's strength and freedom.
I suppose my primary reason for writing the book Centennial
was to ask us, you and me,
if we're aware of what's happening right now to this land we love,
this earth we depend upon for life.
It's a novel, of course,
and its characters and scenes are imaginary.
But there were French trappers from Canada,
like the man who called himself Pasquinel.
There were mountain men from Scotland like the man named Alexander McKeag.
There was a silversmith in St. Louis like Hermann Bockweiss,
an Army officer like Maxwell Mercy,
a militia commander like Frank Skimmerhorn,
a Texas trail boss like R.J. Poteet,
and certain background incidents and characters are real.
In the 1820s and '30s, the mountain men did hold
an annual rendezvous in the Rockies.
In 1851, there was a great convocation at Fort Laramie
that saw 10,000 Indians gather to approve a treaty with our government.
In 1864, there was a massacre
that is to this day one of our nation's greatest tragedies.
And the same decade did see the great longhorn trail drives north from Texas.
The cattle would bring a need for a town.
A town like the one I call Centennial.
This is the story of that town.
It's a big story
about the people who helped make this country what it is,
and the land that makes the people what they are.
And it's a story about time.
Not just as a record, but also a reminder.
A reminder that during the few years allotted to each of us,
we are the guardians of the earth.
We are, at once, the custodians of our heritage,
and the caretakers of our future.
Stay with us for the great adventure of the American West.
NARRATOR: When the Earth was already ancient,
of an age incomprehensible to man,
an event of basic importance occurred in the area
which would later be known as Colorado.
One billion, seven hundred million years ago,
an irresistible power broke through the crust of the Earth to form a basement rock.
That rock would endure to this very day.
Upon it would be built the subsequent mountains.
Across it would wander the rivers.
Brawling, undisciplined, violent arteries of life
that are part of an endless cycle of building up and tearing down,
of stripping away old deposits
and laying down new rock,
using the same material again and again.
By the year 15,000 B.C., the major characteristics
of the land around what was to become Centennial were fairly well determined.
Some miles northwest was a chalk cliff,
beds of limestone infinitely older than the Rockies.
To the west and slightly to the south was a gemlike mountain valley
where nuggets of gold had been raked from the crevices of the rocks by a glacier
and hidden at the bottom of a stream.
Another special place was on the western bank
of a wandering, muddy stream where Centennial was to be.
A small underwater cave that might never have been found
except for a murder committed over 11,000 years after its creation.
And finally there is the river.
A sad, bewildered nothing of a river,
a sand bottom of wandering afterthought.
Its name is as flat as its appearance.
The South Platte.
Yet for a while it was the highway of empire.
It was the course of stirring adventure
and the means whereby the adventurers lived.
And so the stage is set,
the land has become a home for living things.
One of the most loveable and stubborn of all creatures
came to thrive in the streams of Colorado.
One of the most deadly and terrifying took refuge in its rocky sanctuaries.
The horse returned to the vast plains that were its place of origin.
And a version of the bison trekked from Asia
to roam the area that would one day be Centennial.
This shaggy beast would become the center of culture for the American Indian,
a nomadic people that migrated from Asia 12,000 years ago
and stayed to develop a primitive social order
and a deep appreciation of the land.
In the year 1756,
a sliver group of a tribe, who referred to themselves only as Our People,
faced a major crisis.
The Indians surrounding them had horses,
making them more mobile in their hunting and more powerful in war.
War between the various tribes on the plains was
a kind of dangerous game that seldom resulted in death.
What was important was a display of courage.
Bravery was shown by touching or striking an enemy with hand or weapon,
a practice later to be known as counting coup.
But the bravest act of all
was for a warrior to stake himself out to face his enemy.
Held to the ground by bison thongs and his own pledge
to fight so long as his strength lasted.
Because of its bold disdain for the enemy,
this act would almost certainly end in the warrior's death
and was practiced only under desperate conditions.
(SHOUTING)
For Our People, the year 1756 was such a time,
because they had no horses and they knew they could not survive long without them.
(IN ARAPAHO) My father...
(IN ARAPAHO) I am your father.
My real father, where is he?
He is not coming.
Why? Where is he?
Listen to me.
Only the rocks live forever.
(IN ENGLISH) Only the rocks live forever.
(IN ENGLISH) Gray Wolf. My father.
I am your father now.
NARRATOR: This young Indian was nine years old when he first encountered death.
It was a thing he could not fathom,
but he would learn to face it without fear.
You didn't get any horses? No.
Then my father died for nothing.
Sun-at-Noon staked himself out.
He counted many coup.
I am proud he was my brother.
You can be proud he was your father.
And we should both hope to die such a death.
Only the rocks live forever.
NARRATOR: He was called Lame Beaver,
and he was destined to become a great leader
at a time when a force the Indian could not imagine
was moving slowly inexorably toward him.
A force that would change his way of life forever.
(PASQUINEL SINGING IN FRENCH)
(GROWLING)
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
(GROWLING)
(YELLS)
(LAUGHING)
(SINGING)
NARRATOR: As the century was drawing to a close,
Lame Beaver had lived half of it
and seen many things,
and now he had been told that he would see a god.
He's no god. He's a man.
He moves more like a bison, like he owns the prairie.
And the wolves ran from him.
Maybe they're fresh from another kill.
Maybe they had reason to fear him. His skin is different.
Ute skin is different, too.
He's a man. We should talk with him. No.
He must have killed many Pawnee to get here.
He may kill us if we go to him.
We'll wait till dark, then we'll see what his medicine is.
(WOLF HOWLING)
NARRATOR: It was but one of many coups for Lame Beaver,
but it was the beginning of a new era.
In that moment of mutual terror and trust,
a treaty was ratified between the Indian and the white man.
A treaty that would change forever the nature of life in the American West.
He was a coureur de bois. One who runs in the woods.
A small, powerful Frenchman who wore the red knitted cap of Quebec
and called himself Pasquinel.
He brought with him blankets from Canada,
bright cloths from New Orleans,
silver from Germany and beads from Paris.
With the coming of spring, he had traded goods with the Arapaho,
the name by which the other tribes referred to Our People.
He pressed his pelts into bales weighing 100 pounds each.
And through that ingenious, silent language of the plains
that is older than speech itself,
Lame Beaver let him know that he was welcome to come again.
He also let the trader know the gift he would most like to have next time was a gun.
For he had seen its awesome power
and knew it was the weapon of the future.
And the white man agreed to bring him one.
Then the Arapaho warned him about the Pawnee.
Pasquinel had crossed their land in safety coming in,
but the Arapaho insisted they would not let him leave with anything of value.
Not even his life.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
NARRATOR: Heading eastward, he found the river impassable
and was forced to portage his pelts.
Selecting a hiding place for his canoe
among a stand of cottonwoods near the river's edge,
he covered it with brush and set out on foot
to carry the first two of his 100-pound bales
the distance of over seven miles.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
(SINGING IN FRENCH)
(WHOOPS)
Satisfied that the bales were properly concealed,
he calculated the hours of daylight remaining
and turned back into the heart of Pawnee territory for the rest of his pelts.
(HORSE SNORTING)
You come.
I follow.
I, Rude Water.
Pasquinel.
Gun?
Oui. Gun.
NARRATOR: Like Lame Beaver, Rude Water's primary interest
was in the weapon the trader carried.
The Pawnee had met white men before,
spoke some of their language,
and knew well the power of the gun.
You come from where?
St. Louis.
St. Louis where sun rise.
I was with Lame Beaver.
How long you with Lame Beaver?
Your people must have told you when I came through.
I saw them follow me.
You stay long time. Why?
Trade beaver.
Trade gun?
Non.
Trade bracelets and beads.
For you.
And your wife.
I have four wife.
You smart man.
We be friends, Pasquinel.
You give me gun, we be good friends.
No. I need gun.
I could take.
Not if you're my friend.
And not if you want to learn how to use the gun.
You smart man.
Next time you come, you bring me gun.
The gun is worth many beaver.
We have plenty beaver.
I bring gun.
NARRATOR: The reception and the parting were so friendly
that Pasquinel knew Lame Beaver's words were true.
He would have to fight.
(SCREAMING)
(GUN FIRING)
(LAUGHING)
By damn, he's stubborn, the Pawnee.
(RUSTLING)
(MAN WHISTLING)
(GROANS)
Pawnee.
Cheyenne.
(IN FRENCH) Pull it out.
(IN CHEYENNE) No!
I will do it.
Bite.
The tip has caught on bone. I cannot work it free.
(IN FRENCH) Push it in, twist it and pull.
You would die.
Then cut it off beneath the skin.
(HORSE SNUFFLING)
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
All the Cheyenne will hear of Pasquinel.
(ALL WHOOPING)
(SNAKE RATTLING)
Beaver! Much beaver!
We trade. You trade gun?
Trade? Yeah, sure. We trade gun.
(GRUNTS)
These my peltries! They stole them from me!
Get the rest of those pelts.
Sink those canoes.
NARRATOR: His canoe, his rifle, his store of goods, and his pelts were gone.
After two years of work,
all he had was a knife on his hip
and an arrowhead in his back.
BUTLER: It's lodged in bone, all right.
The shaft's cut off well below the surface.
Hurt?
Non.
That?
Non.
I can move it.
But if you can stand that kind of pain,
it's not doing any damage, I'd leave it alone.
(CLEARING THROAT) Will you be going back?
As soon as I can find a license holder to supply me.
To the Pawnee?
I have no war with the Pawnee.
Just the pirates.
Thank you, Doctor.
I'll pay you as soon as I find someone to finance my next round.
Tell me, what's it like out there?
Violent.
There is a wind that never seems to stop.
Sometimes you swear you are going insane.
And storms like you have never seen,
screeching and booming with their thunder.
And hail. Hail the size of hen eggs.
They can kill whole flights of birds.
In the spring, tornadoes that tear apart everything in their path.
And in the winter,
snow squalls that kill everything that is unprepared.
And in between the storms, it falls silent.
So quiet you are certain you are going mad
and you pray for the storms to come back again.
And then when they come back again, you pray for them to stop again.
I tell you, it is a land fit only for the savages,
and you have seen what they are like.
But I have seen worse.
I have seen much worse.
They are very curious how slowly a man can die.
And if you survive the Indians and the elements, there are the animals.
Wolves that run in whole packs,
and snakes that strike from me to you
and plant their fangs to pump their poison.
You find that amusing, monsieur?
(CLEARS THROAT) Just wondering why you're going back.
Because I am a simple man, monsieur.
Without a profession, without an education,
I know only the woods.
You know what I think?
Qu'est-ce que c'est?
I think you found a treasure.
A treasure?
What they fought for in France.
What my people fought for in the colonies.
Freedom.
Do you know what I think? What?
I think that you are more dangerous than the Pawnee.
Talk like that could change everything.
(LAUGHING)
BUTLER: I wish I could go with you.
I'm glad you think you cannot.
Perhaps... What?
I have a patient, a merchant, a silversmith,
who has a trading license with the governor.
Oui?
Well, I was just thinking that perhaps we three could form a partnership.
He's just recently from Munich.
His name is Bockweiss. Hermann Bockweiss.
You like it?
If I were a Cheyenne chief, I could not live without it.
(EXCLAIMS)
That is what I want to hear.
You see, Richard?
This is a man who knows good work.
I know nothing about silver but I know the Indian.
And you cannot make enough of this.
And this, and this,
and that
is the pièce de résistance.
Do you know the meaning of the pipe?
It's smoked for peace, isn't it?
And war.
And anything between men that needs to be sanctified.
To many tribes on the plains,
this is their most sacred possession.
They believe that the pipe gives them a communion with the spirit world.
When they exhale the smoke, they see it as a breath of prayer.
The living breath of the spirit. The Great Spirit.
Monsieur Bockweiss,
with this pipe you can become immortal.
That would be nice, Monsieur Pasquinel,
but quite candidly, I would just as soon it made me rich.
(LAUGHING)
Papa?
Oh, I'm sorry. I did not know you had company.
Oh, it's all right.
You know Doctor Butler. Ja. Hello, doctor.
Lise.
And this is Monsieur Pasquinel.
My daughter, Lise.
Monsieur.
(GREETING IN FRENCH)
I guess we should know your first name, should we not?
I'm sorry.
Don't be. I have none.
Just Pasquinel.
You're from France?
Quebec.
Canada? How fantastic!
I've always been so curious about Canada.
I hope you will do us the honor
and come to dinner tonight and tell us all about it.
Thank you, but... Of course you will.
Lise, take him to the house
and pour him whatever he likes.
The doctor and I will be right in.
Ja, Papa.
Monsieur?
I only brought him to discuss a business proposition, Hermann.
But the city has only 500 or 600 men, Richard.
Most of them married and maybe none of them as strong as that one.
At any rate, if I were a cautious man, I would not have come to this country.
And if I were not a romantic, I would not have had such a lovely daughter.
Please sit down.
Merci.
Claret? Fine.
You like the house?
It's grand.
The Chouteau family built it,
but it was...
They wanted something larger. Larger?
Why would anyone want a house larger than this?
A house says a lot about a person.
Merci.
But it doesn't make a man bigger than he is.
Shall we sit?
Would you be more comfortable if you were sitting?
No. No, I'm fine.
What brought you to St. Louis? The river.
I mean, what reason?
Oh, beaver.
You're a trader, then?
Oui.
I should think that would be a very lonely profession.
Profession? No, no.
(LAUGHING)
It is work.
And when a man works he is always alone, n'est-ce pas?
Ja.
(STAMMERING) Ja, I suppose that is true.
Shall we sit?
I would so love to hear about Canada.
I don't think that you would like Canada.
No? Why not?
Because they only have little people.
It's true. Little people like this.
Everyone.
I am the tallest man in the whole country.
I do not need to be laughed at.
Cried about, then?
Poor Lise Bockweiss.
The fairest woman in all St. Louis,
with hair like wild honey,
whose eyes are like a mountain lake.
What a pity she's so tall.
And that Pasquinel, if he wants to hold her,
he should take an axe and chop three or four inches off her legs.
It is fine to be tall. If I were tall, I would rule the world.
But since I'm not, I am satisfied to rule where I am at the moment.
Monsieur Pasquinel...
Non. Pasquinel.
No monsieur, no Henri, no Jean Pierre. Just Pasquinel.
I think I should look about dinner.
Do you still want me to stay for dinner?
You were invited.
Oui, but to talk about Canada.
To get where we're going, it does not matter how we stand.
It matters how we move.
And you, mademoiselle, you move very well.
BUTLER: So, what do you think, Hermann?
I think it is a dangerous enterprise.
He must come and go through how many tribes?
Pawnee, Cheyenne, Arapaho, Dakota, Comanche, Ute.
Several thousand Indians and one white man alone.
His chances for survival cannot be good,
but you think he's worth the risk of investment.
When I pushed that arrowhead deeper in his back,
I know it hurt.
And I know a little bit about pain, Hermann.
A man doesn't learn to bear it like that without a lot of courage.
I think he'll bring back pelts.
(DOG BARKING)
You killed three Pawnee.
I killed three thieves.
And if your braves attack me now, I kill you.
Two guns. Oui.
For me?
One for the man who said he was my friend.
Which man speaks to me now?
I sorry we fight last year.
This year we be friends.
(IN PAWNEE) Get the other gun.
(IN ENGLISH) Now I have two guns.
(IN PAWNEE) Bring the red beard.
And two white men.
(SPEAKING FRENCH) Parlez-vous français?
(IN ENGLISH) Just smile.
You teach them how to shoot yet?
You kill anybody?
This my brother.
My brother.
Regardez.
(IN PAWNEE) He says they're brothers.
Do they look like brothers to you?
(IN PAWNEE) If they are brothers,
she is my brother.
(ALL LAUGHING)
He said if you're my brother, she's his brother.
I speak some Pawnee.
(IN ENGLISH) You speak at the wrong damn time.
I might have made their eyes believe, but not their ears, too.
Sorry.
(IN PAWNEE) The brothers speak different tongues.
Are the Pawnee and the Cheyenne brothers?
The Pawnee and the Arapaho? No.
They speak the tongues of different tribes.
Brothers speak the same tongue.
He said different tribes speak different tongues.
Since we don't speak the same tongue, we cannot be brothers.
He lies.
He said... I speak that much in any language.
No, no. You're the one who lied
when you told me I could pass in peace last year.
I carry the arrow of a coward in my back.
A Pawnee arrow.
Now we are brothers. This is true.
We are brothers like the Arikara are brothers to the Pawnee.
Different, but from the same family.
Now, I know you didn't send your braves to kill me last year.
That is why I came back in friendship as I promised.
And I brought this to prove my friendship.
After we smoke it, I will teach you how to shoot a gun.
We'll bring you more guns next year if you keep your word.
I understand about family like the Arikara and Pawnee.
I glad you understand about last year.
You can travel in Pawnee land.
But for every five pelts you take, you must give me two.
One.
Last year you said one. It is still one.
But we will take your pelts to St. Louis,
get more goods then you can get on the river. We?
Unless you have a better offer.
Him word good? Same as you?
Same as me.
Maybe I keep him here. Make sure you come back from St. Louis.
Non. We go together, we come back together.
How I know for sure?
Because I am Pasquinel.
I come to you unafraid.
Scotland? Aye.
How long?
Oh, a year.
Didn't take you long to get caught.
I was about to escape.
I could see that.
Bringing the Indian along on the leash as a guide, were you?
I would have gotten away.
Then I apologize for spoiling your plans.
No.
No. I owe you my thanks for saying what you did
without kenning anything about me.
And I think you should ken
I've killed a man.
(LAUGHING)
How do you ken you'll see the men who took your pelts?
They went to the Mandans.
They should return now.
Never without an answer, are you?
Nor you a question.
We camp here three, four days.
No more.
McKEAG: You laughed today.
PASQUINEL: I hope so.
When I told you what I'd done.
And now you want to tell me again.
It is a hard thing to live with.
I've never told anyone before.
Do you mind?
I'm not a priest.
I'm not a Catholic.
It was an awful thing.
The reason I left the Highlands.
Had to leave, actually.
You see, he was a laird, and a tyrant he was,
sinful as the devil himself.
He thought because he owned the land, he owned the people who worked it, too.
He thought he could do with them whatever he willed.
Never bothered me that much, but...
My sister.
Well, if you're a wee bit of a lass like her,
a man like that is a hard thing, I suppose.
She never told me before, mind you, what...
What he'd tried to do to her when he'd come on her alone a time or two.
When I found him with her,
saw how he was hurting her and how she was crying...
Well, I just could not help myself.
I had to get him away from her.
And when he unsheathed his sword, I lashed out with my walking stick,
a big, knotted thing it was, and I caught him full force on the side of the head.
And he... He just lay there.
And Meg, she was crying even harder.
Dear God, it was such an awful sight to see.
And then I had to leave
because I knew what would happen if they found me.
Him being a lord and me just a woodsman's son.
I was sorry for doing it,
and sorry for having to leave my home
and my family.
But I ken I did the right thing.
Didn't I?
Pasquinel?
McKEAG: How can you tell?
Hmm.
You go. They don't know you.
Hey there, passage to St. Louis?
I have pelts.
Sure. Get your pelts ready.
(GUN FIRING)
(INDIANS ULULATING)
(MAN GROANING)
You did not tell me!
You did not tell me you were going to kill them!
That's one question you didn't ask.
But why did you do it?
They tried to kill me last year.
How can you be sure they were the same men?
The one that was going to crush your skull with the club, I know,
and the grinning one, he would have smiled watching it.
I know him and the others.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
What? Bad companions bring bad luck.
It doesn't even turn your blood a wee bit
to see what those butchering savages are doing with their hatchets out there?
When they find the boat, no one in St. Louis will accuse us, will they?
What white man would believe that another white man would lift his scalp?
Have you?
You're as much a heathen as they are.
Worse, maybe.
Because you ken the wrong in it.
Do you know where the Indians learned to take scalps?
From the English.
That's right, from your fellow Britons.
They paid tribes up north
to bring back scalps to prove that the enemy had been killed.
And the enemy were my countrymen.
One was my father.
Now think about this.
The one thing the white man is most afraid of,
the one thing that has branded the Indian a "savage"
is a practice invented by the white man.
(LAUGHS)
You don't think that's funny, huh?
Well, you won't think this is funny, either.
You should know, ken,
that the coureur de bois ends up a scalp.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
You perhaps, and me, too.
(DONKEY BRAYING)
Whoa, whoa.
Still wobbles.
Wait.
Good as new.
Better.
You never told me how you were caught by the Pawnee.
I thought you never asked questions.
I was just wondering if you were taken by surprise.
Like now.
What?
I think there are only three.
(FOOTSTEPS)
Don't!
I have one arrow in my back already.
I don't want to start a collection, n'est-ce pas?
What do we do?
What you always do with Indians.
Get ready to kill or be killed
and hope it doesn't happen.
That'll just make us better targets.
And let them see our faces show no fear.
The old man who taught you the Pawnee,
did he teach you Ute?
No.
The Utes are always welcome in our camp.
Join us.
(IN UTE) You go.
No, we stay.
Trade beaver.
Ute no trade beaver. You go.
Cheyenne trade beaver.
Arapaho trade beaver.
Pawnee trade beaver.
You come, you see, you trade.
No trade.
When sun comes, you be gone.
What do we do now?
Sleep.
Tomorrow
we fight for our trade.
(HORSE NEIGHING)
Don't fire.
(GUN FIRING)
You were way high both times.
I hit what I wanted. Yeah, the wind.
If you give an Indian a fair chance, you can avoid killing.
They're going to charge again.
We'll give them this one and then they'll be gone.
Years to come they'll sit around the campfire and talk
about the coup they made on the two white men
and the whistling lead.
And you'll sit in Scotland and talk about the tomahawks and lances.
(LAUGHING)
Non!
(GROANS)
(UTE ULULATING)
Get it out.
It will hurt like hellfire.
No question that.
(MUFFLED SCREAMING)
The smell is bad.
Begone with you.
I'm bound to die.
I said begone.
(GROANS)
I'm cold.
You need the air.
I tell you I'm dying. It's rotten.
McKEAG: It's rotten.
You think that will work?
Can you cut it off?
If you have no arm, how can you fire a gun?
If you cannot fire a gun, how can you hunt?
If you cannot hunt, how can you...
You ask too damn many questions.
There are worse places for a man to die.
You will not die.
(SCREAMING)
I'm sorry, mon ami.
Out here, half a man
is no man at all.
Arapaho!
(DOG BARKING)
Pasquinel.
Your gun.
(IN ARAPAHO) We smoke.
NARRATOR: And so, once again, Lame Beaver and Pasquinel smoked the calumet and talked.
About the Pawnee attack and the Cheyenne who had saved Pasquinel's life,
and that fateful moment when each held the other's life
in his hands and didn't take it.
(ARAPAHOS CHANTING)
(DRUMS BEATING)
(IN ARAPAHO) Bad scar.
What?
Aye. Aye bad.
Does it hurt?
(IN ARAPAHO) Hurt?
(IN ENGLISH) It still hurts.
I cannot move my arm away from my body.
The skin... The scar is so tight.
You'll use it, though.
By damn, you'll use it.
Same thing, your shoulder.
I don't know. I know.
(GROANS)
Use it!
Take your gun, by damn, and use it!
Why?
You could do the hunting for the next few weeks.
I could be dead tomorrow!
I'll get more plants.
(IN ARAPAHO) Can you use this? What?
Can you use this?
Can I use it? Aye, I can use it.
But not with that wound.
My arm?
With my arm this way? No. No, I cannot shoot now.
Did he wrap your gun this way? Pasquinel?
Pasquinel, he wrapped it.
Buffalo hide.
Pasquinel, he wrapped your gun to make it strong.
My shoulder? The same?
Yes. That's what he means. Pasquinel, he said, "Shoulder."
Aye.
I suppose that is what he was saying.
(ALL WHOOPING)
I shoot.
You shoot well. Très bien. Now you load.
Is it dry enough?
We'll soon see.
Lame Beaver just hit the limb on that tree.
McKEAG: It's still there.
He'll take it off next time.
There won't be a next time.
(GRUNTING)
(ALL CHEERING)
(IN ARAPAHO) Flower.
(IN ENGLISH) How you say in English?
Flower.
Flower? Aye.
A wee braw flower
for a wee braw lassie.
(LAUGHS)
Braw flower? Aye.
Oh, pretty. I suppose you'd best say pretty.
Pretty? Aye.
Pretty flower. Aye.
If you're going to learn English,
you'd best learn it the way the English speak it.
That way people won't be turning up their nebs at you
like they do at me from time to time.
Turn up their nebs?
Aye, nebs. Oh, nose. Nose.
You'll learn to call it nose.
Nose.
And these are your ears.
Ears.
And your hair.
Hair.
And your eyes.
Eyes.
And this?
Lips.
You're beautiful.
Beautiful?
We'd better get back.
Beautiful.
Means pretty?
Aye.
Like the flower?
You think I'm pretty?
We'd better go.
Red Beard,
I think you pretty, too.
Clay Basket, I...
We have to go.
You teach me more?
(STAMMERING) I'll teach you more tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
I know tomorrow.
Tomorrow will be beautiful.
Aye.
Tomorrow will be beautiful.
(GIGGLES)
(BIRDS CAWING)
Your father is quite a chief.
No. He's not a chief.
Well, he got all those horses
and did all those things and he's not a chief?
He did not want to be a chief.
Why?
(SPEAKING ARAPAHO)
(IN ARAPAHO) Why isn't he a chief?
Aye. Why isn't he a chief?
He doesn't like feathers.
What? What about feathers?
(IN ENGLISH) He doesn't like them.
I don't understand.
A long time ago, my father got horses for Our People.
Aye, the first horses for your tribe.
But he could not keep the horse he wanted.
Why not?
It was given to a chief.
But he got them himself. You told me, 19 of them.
Aye.
How could the chief take the horse your father wanted?
He was chief.
Oh, so now your father won't be chief.
Never. I see.
It isn't the feathers he doesn't like,
it's the men who wear them.
Tell your mother there are men like that in every tribe.
(SPEAKING ARAPAHO)
And tell her I think your father is the chief anyway.
A big chief.
(SPEAKING ARAPAHO)
(GIGGLES)
Pasquinel.
(SPEAKING ARAPAHO)
(IN ARAPAHO) Tell Pasquinel my heart is sad to see him leave.
(IN ENGLISH) Pasquinel, my father sad you go.
Well, mon ami, I see you have her English as tongue-tied as your own.
(LAUGHS)
Tell him that I sad to go, but I come back when the leaves change.
Red Beard, too?
Red Beard, are we partners?
Aye.
They are sad to leave, too, but they will come back when the leaves change color.
Will they bring their wives?
Ask them!
(IN ARAPAHO) I don't know how to ask that.
Comprends?
He wants to know about our wives.
Wives?
If they'll come with us next time.
No, no, no. My wife, she stays in Montreal.
(IN ARAPAHO) Pasquinel, his wife stays in Montreal.
Montreal? Is it far away?
Far away. Far enough.
(LAUGHING)
(IN ARAPAHO) Montreal is many miles north.
(IN ENGLISH) And you, Red Beard?
I have no wife.
What did he say?
He said he has no wife.
A man must have a wife
to give him the best gifts of all.
He said a man must have a wife to give him the best gifts of all.
Tell him he has a beautiful family
and he should be proud of them.
(IN ARAPAHO) Your family is beautiful.
Now we go.
Good hunting.
It will be good because of Pasquinel.
Mon ami.
Six bales, mon ami.
Our share will make us rich men.
Is it true what you said?
Qu'est-que c'est?
About having a wife.
Is she in Montreal?
Non. Detroit.
Even good friends shouldn't know everything about a man, n'est-ce pas?
All right. No more questions.
(SINGING IN FRENCH)
LAME BEAVER: Clay Basket.
(IN ENGLISH) They will return.
Pasquinel is a brave man.
But I do not believe him, what he says about his woman.
He will need a good woman when he returns.
I would welcome him into my family.
You hoped I would say the Red Beard?
Yes. No.
It is Pasquinel you will marry.
When I am gone, he will take care of you.
But Father, you will not go for many years.
There are many changes.
The Pawnee are trading for more guns.
The Utes are coming out of the mountains to live like us,
and these white men, they're only the first.
More will come to trade for beaver
and with them they'll bring change.
What kind of change? I don't know.
Pasquinel, he will know and he will protect you.
Pasquinel, he can be trusted.
(GRUNTING)
Make sure Bockweiss gets these pelts.
JOE: Pasquinel!
Joe Bean. Kentucky.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
Well, I'm doing all right, but not that good.
How far up did you get?
La Cache la Poudre.
The big mountains?
That's some doing. Any trouble?
Well, there's always trouble, n'est-ce pas?
In the high mountains there are the Utes,
but still the worst are the Pawnee.
That's where I met my partner on the Missouri.
He was taking on a whole war party all by himself.
A whole war party?
Nine braves were stealing peltries from a pirogue called the Sainte-Geneviève.
The Genevieve. I heard tell another boat picked her up.
All the men had been massacred.
The Pawnee were already lifting scalps when I saw him
right in the middle attacking them all.
I dropped three from long range with my rifle,
but he was right in the middle with just his knife.
Hand to hand?
By the time I tried to reload for the fourth,
he had killed the last one.
Regardez. A tomahawk right there.
And still he continued fighting with only one hand.
I was wondering why you partnered up.
I guess that tells the whole story.
Joe Bean. Kentucky.
What is it they call you? Alexander McKeag.
Where you from?
Scotland. And La Cache la Poudre.
MAN: Pasquinel!
(LAUGHS)
Whiskey!
Whiskey for my friend Joe Bean from Kentucky,
and my partner.
Where've you been, Pasquinel?
I've been to the other end of the river
and now I'm going to drink my way back.
(ALL CHEERING)
(MEN SINGING)
(ALL CHEERING)
You Pasquinel?
Pasquinel, oui. What are you drinking?
Nothing you buy.
Then you're in the wrong place,
because today, I buy everything this man sells.
(ALL CHEERING)
Yeah, with blood money.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
Do I know you?
I know you.
You're a liar and a coward.
I know we have never met before.
You murdered my brother.
Your brother?
And three good men that ride the Saint Genevieve.
Oh, The Sainte-Geneviève. It was attacked by the Pawnee.
Pawnee nothing.
It was you and that burr-tongued partner of yours.
Why would we attack white men and scalp them? What for?
You know damned good and well what for.
My memory fails me. Why don't you tell me?
Why didn't you wash the furs?
Because what belongs to another man is of no interest to me.
Now, I want to buy you a drink,
in honor of your brave brother.
And if he was an honest trader,
he was my brother, too.
You go to hell!
In due time.
Joe Bean!
Here is to new profits and to new partners.
Are you sure you're completely healed, Alexander?
Aye.
I just can't imagine an experience like that.
How about you, Pasquinel?
That arrowhead bother you at all?
No.
What arrowhead?
The one the Pawnee planted in his back last year.
The one that brought me to the good doctor and brought us all together.
For many years.
(SPEAKING GERMAN)
How long could a man survive in a land like that?
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
Only the rocks live forever.
What?
It's a saying of the Indians on the plains.
"Only the rocks live forever."
None of us will live forever,
so it matters not how long you live, but how.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
They tell me you have a wife in New Orleans.
New Orleans?
(SCOFFS) This town...
I'd better get back to the Indians.
Here.
The ingots have melted.
That is how you shape them, huh?
Ja. The molds.
When you're on the plains, you have a woman there?
An Indian woman?
I mean, I have heard some men do.
It's a natural thing, I suppose.
How long does it take?
Until they cool.
Tomorrow these will be ready.
So, then, you do not?
What's that?
Oh, the Indian woman? No, no.
McKeag is the only one who shares my canoe.
He sounds like quite a fellow.
But he does not say much, though, does he?
That's why I let him share my canoe.
It seems to me
a man with a good business like you ought to marry.
What you file off, you use again?
Ja.
I have been planning on it again myself.
What's that?
Get married.
Oh.
But a good woman is not an easy thing to find.
A woman like Lise?
Lise.
Ja, ja, my Lise is a fine woman.
You have noticed, ja?
It'd be hard for a man not to notice.
I'm glad to hear you say that.
It's easy to say...
You're buffing. Is that right?
Ja.
And these tools here, they're for the etching?
Ja.
Such small tools in such big hands.
What you do is really remarkable.
Pasquinel,
let me be frank.
I sell a piece like this for a lot of money.
I'm going to be a very wealthy man.
I can afford to be very generous with Lise.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
(IN ENGLISH) I don't understand.
You would have a fixed home here.
A fixed home is something, Pasquinel.
(LAUGHS)
Monsieur Bockweiss, why would Lise want me?
I will never be anything but what I am, a coureur.
Damn it, do not play dumb with me.
You know she is interested in you, and so do I.
Now, I am telling you
that as your partner I would be very happy to...
That is, should you at some point in time
wish to join my family,
I would have no objection whatsoever.
You are a good father, monsieur.
Hermann.
Hermann, you are a good friend to suggest that
something like that would be possible.
We could have the wedding before you go back to the plains.
You said, "In time."
And you said none of us lives forever.
The Indians know more about life than any of us maybe, huh?
Huh?
Perhaps.
NARRATOR: At the end of the 18th century,
the Indians of the Great Plains were sovereigns of their world.
The horse had allowed them to ride into a new life
in the formerly forbidding heart of the open grasslands.
While Lame Beaver continued to refuse
all offers to sit among a council,
he was respected above all other members of his tribe
because they remembered it was his courage that first gave them the horse.
A man's wealth and his family's social standing
were now determined by the amount of horses he owned.
And every young Indian boy knew that if he became
a skilled warrior and hunter,
he would acquire many horses of his own
and live a life of dignity and respect
like the old man called Lame Beaver.
Lame Beaver was 53 years old as the century was drawing to a close.
By the standards of his time, he was already old.
Not even the new power the gun brought him as a warrior and hunter
could replace other powers he would be losing soon.
He knew his time was almost over,
but he had no way of knowing that an ancient culture at its zenith
had little more time left than he.
(ARAPAHOS CHANTING)
(DRUMS BEATING)
The Plains Indians of the year 1800 were a contented people.
The horse had been their salvation,
the buffalo was the basis of their existence.
From its many parts came almost everything necessary to daily life.
It provided food, clothing, shelter, weapons,
and a source of industry that kept bodies strong and minds healthy.
It was a time to be enjoyed.
There was no need to worry about the future,
and the young people could take pride in the past.
(IN ENGLISH) Father, tell me about the horses.
How you were the first one to get them.
(IN ENGLISH) That was a long time ago.
Did you really visit the sun before you raided the Comanche?
Could a man do something like that alone?
I wish I could have seen you bring them into camp.
Was it exciting, Mother?
(IN ENGLISH) It was the most exciting thing we'd ever known.
BLUE LEAF: The bravest thing any warrior had ever done,
and he was only 17 summers.
He walked far to the south
where the Comanche were hunting buffalo.
Our people could not follow the buffalo as far as the other tribes
and we were not as powerful in war
because we had no horses.
Your father knew that we must get horses or our tribe would die,
but no other warriors would go with him
because they knew if they were caught by the Comanche,
they would die a terrible death.
Man Above, I am one of Our People.
Help me.
(HORSE NEIGHING)
(HORSE WHINNYING)
(SHOUTING)
(YELLS)
(WHOOPING)
(YELLING)
(MEN WHOOPING)
(WHOOPING)
(SHOUTING)
(ALL CHEERING)
Comanche!
(SPEAKING ARAPAHO)
BLUE LEAF: It was so bold and so daring
that even the Comanches saluted him for his courage.
(ALL WHOOPING)
When I saw him return to camp,
I knew it was the greatest thing I would ever see.
He had brought the horses no one else could get,
the horses we could not go on without.
He had given us our lives.
And I have never known a prouder moment
than when he put me on one of them.
The one he would give to my brother,
so that we could share a life together.
And you were only 17 summer.
The other braves must have... We need new lodge poles.
They'll last another season.
They've been dragged for many miles. They're growing short.
Maybe we could use new ones.
Maybe? Look at them!
We should have traded for them when we were in the north.
Trade for what, a horse? I'd never trade a horse.
I'll find poles. The best poles.
(GROANS)
BLUE LEAF: What is it?
Are you all right?
Leave me alone.
Blue Leaf.
I'm not angry with you.
Clay Basket thinks it's her
because she asked you to tell the story.
No. I just broke another tooth. See?
Does it hurt?
What hurts is getting old.
Each year for you is another one for me, too.
Remember when we had no horses?
We moved so slowly then, only with the dogs.
We moved so slowly, and life seemed so long.
LAME BEAVER: I remember when I was a boy,
I thought I'd never grow old.
I thought I'd never be old enough to be a warrior.
(IN ENGLISH) Sit.
When your body must work, make it work.
When it needs rest, give it rest.
Where is the river?
Have you looked around you? Yes.
Then take a second look.
A longer look.
I don't see anything.
What are those?
Just swallows.
(LAUGHS) That's right.
Just swallows.
But swallows must have water every day. Doves, too.
So you watch for them.
If their mouths were empty, they were flying toward water.
If they had mud in them, they were flying from water.
Do you know which way the water is?
That way.
You saw the mud in their mouths from here?
You didn't ask me that.
You only asked if I knew which way the water is.
Look closely at everything.
Watch the animals to learn their secret ways.
The deer will teach you how to go without water for a long time.
The hawk will teach you how to strike swiftly without missing.
The coyote, how to keep from being captured.
The rattlesnake, how to keep from being seen.
Which one teaches you how to make fire?
Only man.
And he is the most dangerous animal you will ever know.
More dangerous than a mountain lion?
Much more. Why?
Because he knows what you know.
LAME BEAVER: That was a long time ago.
A lifetime ago.
You've made my life a good one.
Tomorrow I'll make us the best tepee in the village.
I'll find poles in the Blue Mountain.
Poles that are tall and straight.
The Blue Mountain? The Utes are there.
I'm not afraid of the Utes.
Just because a man breaks a tooth
is no reason to change the way he lives, is it?
No.
There have been Ute here hunting beaver.
Over there.
We can take them.
We're here for lodge poles, not scalps.
Is that the man who raided the Comanche for horses talking?
A man of many coups?
It is a man who lived long enough to tell the stories himself.
We'll wait here in the shadows until they leave,
then we'll find our poles among the tall spruce.
NARRATOR: It was in this mountain valley
that Lame Beaver made a discovery that would have an impact
on the whole world a half a century later.
But at the time he had no way of knowing the value other men
might put upon the shining rocks he held in his hand.
What is it?
Bullets I don't have to melt.
(MUSIC PLAYING)
SEÑORA ALVAREZ: Will you give up trading now?
No, señora.
But with a family...
It's all that I know.
Merci.
Well, perhaps you might learn to be a silversmith.
After all, we have the finest teacher here in St. Louis.
(LAUGHS)
He would make a good pupil.
But I cannot get him interested.
Because it's a talent that I don't have.
Señor, you must have a very special talent.
Lise could have chosen any man in the city and she chose you.
Because she wanted someone to look up to.
Papa.
Excuse me, Pasquinel. Oui.
I'll be right back.
Alexander, will you dance with me?
Oh, I cannot dance.
I will teach you.
It is my wedding.
Monsieur Pasquinel?
Oui?
I say it is very exciting to know you are civilizing the Indians.
Civilizing them?
Well, I pray to God I'm never guilty of that.
But that is what you do, is it not? No, no.
You introduce them to our ways?
I am a trader. Gracias.
I trade beaver, madame.
(SPEAKING SPANISH)
(IN ENGLISH) Surely you are too modest.
You must admit that you are an emissary for our cultures.
And if the Indian is to learn,
he must learn from men like yourself.
(CLEARS THROAT)
Monsieur, you may ask my father-in-law, I am not...
I'm not a modest man.
But there is nothing I can teach the Indian that he needs to know.
Why is that?
Because he lives with nature.
He's been taught to become a part of nature.
Yes, but still they are totally uneducated.
No, no, no.
Uneducated in our world, but not in theirs.
Well, are they so different?
What time is it?
(SPEAKING SPANISH)
The time, do you have it?
(SPEAKING SPANISH)
It is ten of four.
Is that important to you?
Is that important to any of you?
Well, I thought you asked.
I did. But an Indian wouldn't.
He has no clocks because he sees no need to schedule his life.
And he does not believe that what a man does in a day
by so many hours is a real measure of his worth.
No, no. He does what he does.
It takes as long as it takes,
and no one does it better than the Indian.
No, no one here can teach the Indian anything that is important to him.
You may be forgetting one thing, my son.
They are heathens.
They build no churches,
they write no sacred books,
but everything about the Indians centers around his religion.
A pagan religion.
Sacrifices, bloodletting.
Didn't Christ himself die on the cross,
and wasn't that God's will?
That was a unique act, Pasquinel.
To save the world.
Theirs is a unique world. It needs no saving.
Just relax.
(STAMMERING) I cannot. Of course you can.
Just glide with the music and listen to the rhythm.
(STAMMERING) I'm sorry, I cannot.
All right, Alexander.
Oh, thank you.
To friendship.
Did Pasquinel tell you that there would always be
a room here for you whenever you are in St. Louis?
Oh, no, I...
That's one "no" I will not accept from you, Alexander McKeag.
Our home is your home.
Unless you have plans of your own you're not telling us about.
No.
No, you will not accept our offer?
Or no, you have no plans of your own?
No, I... I mean, I...
Alexander, I think there's something you're keeping from us.
No.
There must be someone somewhere.
Well...
I knew it.
Here or in Scotland?
Here.
In St. Louis? No.
Where then?
Can you keep a secret?
Forever. Me, too.
Alexander, that's not fair.
It's just I don't suppose I should be telling others
till I've had a chance to tell her first.
That's fair.
And I know whoever she is,
she'll be as happy as I am today.
I'd better go rescue Pasquinel.
He takes a bit of that from time to time.
Now he will have both of us to take after him.
SEÑORA ALVAREZ: Is it true they have more than one wife?
Señora?
I've heard they keep more than one wife. Is that true?
If they need them,
and if the woman needs a husband.
And if the other wives are happy for it.
They work hard.
More hands makes the work easier.
I don't know. I don't think I understand that kind of thinking.
People understand what they want to understand.
Like me.
I don't understand why you're dancing with that skinny Scotman
when you could be dancing with me.
(ALL LAUGHING)
Regardez, McKeag, regardez.
Fascinating man.
Why? Because he fights Indians?
Because he understands them.
He should, my dear. He's part Indian himself.
Oh, yes. Didn't you know? He's Mandan. He's from Montreal.
By the way, I have heard that he has a wife there, too.
(ALL CHANTING)
(DRUMS BEATING)
Do you know why they dance in a circle?
When I was little, I thought it was to keep warm by the fire.
All of life is a circle.
The dancers start there, the south,
which represents the source from which we are born.
Then we move to the left, through youth,
toward the sunset in the west.
And night falls as we draw close to the cold north,
where the white hairs are.
To show us that all life is night and day, good and bad.
Father, I know.
If we live on, we find the source of light to the east,
and with it we find understanding.
The understanding that teaches us now to prepare for the end of life.
Then we return to where we began.
Giving back our life to all life,
our flesh to where it started from.
Think about this.
And the more you think about it, the more meaning you'll find in it.
Mother?
St. Louis ends here.
We've said goodbye.
I know, but...
Make certain this old man keeps working.
I'm going to make him a god.
God Bockweiss, who makes his silver pipes in heaven
but only for Pasquinel.
I will be working.
Come back.
I always come back.
Bonjour, mon ami.
It looks like a great year for beaver.
Are you all right?
I did not think I would feel this way.
I think that is natural.
Especially now, since you're going to be a grandfather.
What? What?
That's wonderful.
BOCKWEISS: Does he know?
I could not tell him. Lise.
I want him back.
He should not be going.
He will always be going. Do you not know that, Papa?
If he has a family...
He'll always be going.
That is what he is, what he does.
I do not want to change that.
I've heard there were others who have tried.
Those are unfounded rumors. They are lies.
Perhaps.
All I know is that I love him
and I want him to know how much.
If he comes back and sees I did not try to stop him,
I think he will know.
I want you to know
I do not understand that kind of thinking.
Maybe we only understand what we want to understand, huh, Papa?
(GASPS)
Lame Beaver.
I'll get you, Lame Beaver.
I used to watch your mother on mornings like this.
You're even more beautiful than she was then.
I don't think so.
No, this is my work. Not today.
Have I ever told you why we named you Clay Basket?
(CHUCKLING) Many times.
We were in the north, following the bison.
A Dakota trader brought out a splendid basket made by a Cree.
It looked like it was woven, but it was made of clay. And your mother loved it.
She wanted it above all other things.
Father, I know the story.
You must not forget it.
You must not forget that I bought that basket
for your mother with a bison robe.
A robe she'd worked on for many months to make it soft.
It was a good robe,
and I traded it for the basket.
The clay basket your mother loved so much and for which you're named.
Father... And all the other stories, too.
The ones your mother painted on the robe for me,
the ones we told you about our life together,
about the wild duck that lived in the cottonwoods,
and the tame elk that stayed in the camp in the north,
and all the other stories.
You must not forget them, or they will die.
Father, where's Mother?
I've looked for her.
She's gone to be alone.
Why?
To think.
To make herself ready.
Oh, no.
That's why you told me again about the dance, too, isn't it?
You are my child.
You must remember everything,
or your children will never know how it was with us.
You're going to war?
The Pawnee have stolen a child. She must be returned.
Let the young men go.
The young men are afraid of the Pawnee.
You can't go.
The girl may be dead. Why should you die, too?
We must know.
And the Pawnee must know that Our People will not
let them do such things to us.
Father... If I've been a good father,
you know the end must come for us all.
And you remember what I said about the white man Pasquinel.
When I'm gone, he'll take care of you.
You don't have to go.
What about Mother?
Who'll take care of her if you go?
Your mother is a woman.
She knows her end as well as I know mine.
Oh, Father.
Who is Man Above?
Man Above is a creator.
Higher than all people and all the universe.
He has no beginning and no end.
Is he good?
He is all good.
Then why do we fight other men?
Because there is evil in men, too.
You pray every morning?
Our tepees face the morning sun
to remind us we must give thanks every day.
What if there's no reason to give thanks?
Then the fault is in yourself.
LAME BEAVER: I'll pray with you tomorrow.
GRAY WOLF: No.
You must meet the morning sun and the great silence alone.
It prepares your mind to face the day.
It makes you thoughtful in all things.
Man Above,
I have done all I can do.
(SINGING IN FRENCH)
The charge will be heaviest there.
I will wait there for the great chief Rude Water
and I will shoot him dead.
The Pawnee will panic, and we'll have the girl.
Go now. Man Above is with us.
Go!
(SHOUTING IN PAWNEE)
(ALL WHOOPING)
(HORSE NEIGHING)
(GRUNTING)
(ALL CHEERING)
(ALL WHOOPING)
(ALL CHANTING)
(DRUMS BEATING)
Mother, your things.
They are mine no more.
Your basket!
(SCREAMS)
Get away!
PASQUINEL: Burial.
Up there?
So the spirit can escape into the wind and the clouds.
He was a great warrior.
How do you know?
The ponytail.
They kill a great man's favorite horse
so his spirit won't have to walk.
The stake and the thongs.
He died in combat,
as brave a death as possible.
McKEAG: And it just stays up there like that?
Nature will claim it in time.
As she does everything.
Mother.
Mother?
Mother.
You don't have to stay out here.
It must be.
There's room on my robe in your brother's tepee.
He did not ask me in, and it's not your right to ask.
He won't want you to stay out here.
He has no choice.
I do.
And I'm staying with you wherever you are.
No, sweet one.
You have a life to live.
And mine is over.
He didn't have to kill himself that way.
He didn't have to leave you like this.
We talked.
I knew what would come.
It was this way for my mother, too.
But why?
It makes no sense.
Does it make more sense for us to grow old
and burden those who need their strength to survive?
I can't leave you.
I won't leave you.
You must stay warm and you must stay well.
And when the white man comes,
you must go with him as your father said.
And you must have his children,
and you must remember all the stories
so they will know who they are.
You remember who you are.
You are the daughter of a very brave man.
A man of many coups.
He was a fool.
He was what I said.
And what you will say to your children and they to theirs.
In that way,
he will go on living
and bring meaning to their lives as well.
That's all we can ever do.
Any of us.
(SOBBING) Yes, Mother.
Yes.
Rude Water dead.
Dead? How?
Arapaho make war.
Big devil Lame Beaver stake self out,
shoot Rude Water.
Lame Beaver? What happened to him?
We kill him.
But his medicine strong. He count many coup before he died.
That scaffold by the river.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
(IN ENGLISH) How long ago this fight?
Just before snow.
Not long.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
(IN ENGLISH) We should have started earlier.
You think you could've stopped them? I could've tried.
You give Lame Beaver gun?
I trade gun for beaver.
Same as Rude Water.
You trade yellow bullets, too?
Yellow bullets?
Only reason Lame Beaver kill Rude Water.
Well, that looks like...
It is.
(IN ARAPAHO) Mother.
Mother?
(IN ARAPAHO) Mother?
(IN ARAPAHO) Go back.
Back.
Bonjour, mon ami.
Another long night for you, too, huh?
Sweet savior.
Damn.
It's Blue Leaf.
How could that happen?
What's she doing out here?
She is no longer the wife of a warrior.
She has no right to a tepee of her own.
What? It's their law.
Without a son or a brother willing to take her in,
she has no home.
She is allowed to keep is what she has on her back.
That's bloody inhuman!
She knew it would happen.
What about her daughter?
Oui, the girl, she would know.
Know? About the gold. Where her father found it.
That's not what I meant. I meant what did they do to her?
She is young and strong, she'll bear the grandchildren of a great warrior.
She'll have plenty of men after her.
She could even have a husband already.
What should we do with her?
Leave her.
They will lay her to rest with her sewing kit and awl cases
like they did him with the weapons.
Let's find the girl. What's her name?
Clay Basket. Oui, Clay Basket.
She is with my father now.
It is good.
And you?
You're all right?
Aye.
Clay Basket,
I gave your father the gun.
Do you know where he got his bullets?
Pasquinel.
Ask her.
(IN ARAPAHO) Do you know where your father got the bullets for his gun?
(IN ARAPAHO) Bullets?
Aye.
Where? Ask her where.
(IN ENGLISH) I make.
You? You made the bullets?
(IN ARAPAHO) Bullets.
(IN ENGLISH) Aye. I make bullets.
The yellow ones?
Yellow? Like these.
No. But they came from the gun.
My father's gun? Oui.
They came from your father's gun. Where did he get them?
I not see.
I not know. But he say to me...
Oui? He said?
(SPEAKING ARAPAHO)
He just told her how much it meant to him
and to the tribe for you to give him the gun.
That's all?
(IN ARAPAHO) That's all he said to you?
He told me you would come back.
(IN ENGLISH) He told her we'd come back.
And when you did, he wanted me to go with you, if it pleases you, Pasquinel.
What?
He told me it would make him proud if I would belong to Pasquinel.
What did she say?
McKeag?
He told her he wanted her to go with you.
Avec moi?
To be your wife.
Pasquinel, I wonder...
I mean, since you're already...
I mean, since there's no way...
Mon ami, I don't think you understood what she said.
Her father told her to go with me.
He know I would take care of her. I heard.
But Bockweiss asked you first... Bockweiss is in St. Louis.
What about Lise?
He'll take care of her. He will always take care of her.
Tell her I am proud to have her for my wife.
For the gold, you mean.
That's it, isn't it? The gold.
You think she knows where it is.
Tell her.
(IN ARAPAHO) Pasquinel, he doesn't want me?
Pasquinel says you make him proud.
Red Beard?
Aye?
(IN ENGLISH) Arm good?
Aye. My arm is fine.
NARRATOR: The Indians said,
"Pasquinel, he can be trusted. "
It came to be a passport of safety for the coureur de bois
and his partner Alexander McKeag.
But McKeag began to wonder how much the Indians had really known about Pasquinel.
Had they confused courage with honor?
Still, the young Scot could not leave
the only friend he'd ever known
and the only woman he'd ever wanted.
He only knew one thing for certain.
It would be a hard winter.