Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
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FADE IN:
EXT. AMERICAN SOUTHWEST - DAY SPRING 1840
A shallow stream meanders through a broad arid valley between
canyon walls. A hogan, an irrigated garden and a peach
orchard lie along the stream. The trees are loaded with
blossoms.
All is quiet, serene, still.
The clink of bridle hardware, creak of saddle leather, sound
of horses hoofs on hard ground.
A troop of thirty mounted U.S. Army troopers ride into view,
down an embankment toward the hogan.
Troopers ride over the garden, trampling the vegetable
plants. They rein in at the orchard, dismount, tie their
reins to tree limbs.
Twenty troopers remove rifles from saddle boots, take up
defensive positions.
Ten troopers remove axes from the packs of pack horses. They
walk slowly toward trees.
The first trooper to reach a tree stops, braces himself,
spits on his hands, swings an ax which bites into the trunk.
Thunk!
Suddenly: an explosion among the tethered horses. Another
explosion near the bunched-up soldiers. The blast blows some
soldiers off their feet.
Pandemonium! Soldiers drop axes, run to their horses where
they pull rifles from saddle buckets. They look around for
the source of the explosions, rifles at the ready.
A whistling sound and another explosion. Soldiers panic,
untie reins, mount, gallop away in confusion.
A lone Indian steps from behind an outcropping, points a
shoulder-held weapon at the departing soldiers, fires. The
projectile hits the ground behind the retreating troops and
explodes.
The shooter lowers the weapon, turns around, steps back
behind the outcropping where two Indians sit beside small
mortars. About twenty warriors sit casually on the ground
nearby, holding rifles.
EXT. AMERICAN WESTERN PLAINS - VALLEY - DAY
A green valley, knee-high grass, nearby stream, distant
mountains. A beautiful setting. A western idyll.
A small log cabin at the base of a low hillside. A single
plowed furrow runs from the foreground toward the cabin.
A wagon with two oxen in harness. SETTLER, 30s, and WIFE,
30s, a boy, 9, and a girl, 7, sit on the driver's seat.
Settler holds a four-foot switch.
The wagon is piled with furniture, bedding, clothing, tools,
a plow, all they own.
Four Indians stand near the wagon. They hold rifles. A fifth
Indian nearby holds the reins of five horses.
Settler is scared, but angry.
SETTLER
I'll be back. This is my land.
HOWAHKAN, 60, replies calmly.
HOWAHKAN
This is not your land. This is not
your country. Go. Find a good place
for your children.
Howahkan pokes the near ox with his rifle barrel. The ox
jerks. Settler glares at Howahkan.
Wife grips Settler's arm. Tears streak her cheeks.
WIFE
Please, David.
Settler glares at Howahkan, angrily switches the oxen. The
oxen move off slowly.
EXT. AMERICAN WEST - VALLEY - DAY - CONTINUOUS
Settler's cabin burns furiously. The same five Indians stand
nearby, watch the fire. They turn, move toward their mounts.
Suddenly: an army patrol of twenty horsemen bursts over the
hill where Settler's wagon had disappeared.
The charging troops fire on the Indians.
Two Indians are hit and fall. Howahkan mounts, pulls his
rifle from its case, fires at the troops.
The two remaining Indians try to mount, but their frightened
horses buck and run away.
One Indian slaps Howahkan's horse on the flank. The horse
shies, gallops up the hill.
The charging troopers are within thirty yards now. They hold
swords aloft.
The two Indians remaining pull hand grenades from their
belts, throw them at the charging soldiers.
The grenades fall in front of the charging horses, explode,
destroying two horses and riders. Other horses shy violently
sideways, throwing some riders.
Other troopers ride the two Indians down, killing them with
sword thrusts.
EXT. A VILLAGE OF THE PEOPLE - MORNING
First light. A dense wood on a knoll that looks out on a
grassy down slope and a broad prairie below.
A force of about fifty U.S. Army troopers sit their horses in
the deep shade of the wood.
The troopers look down the slope to a Native American
village, about two hundred yards distant.
About thirty tipis are scattered along the banks of a stream
which runs at the back of the village. Horses graze just
across the stream.
A peaceful tableau.
Four women and three men stand before the tipis, look toward
the soldiers.
LT. WORTH, 30, squeezes his mount with his knees and advances
slowly from the wood into the open. He stares at the village,
speaks softly.
LT. WORTH
All right, sergeant.
SERGEANT CLARK, 40, rides up beside Lt. Worth, turns his
horse to face the wood.
SERGEANT CLARK
Form up! Boot to boot!
Troopers ride in good order from the wood, form a single
line, boot to boot.
Sergeant Clark wheels his horse, faces front. The bugler
rides up beside Sergeant Clark.
SERGEANT CLARK (CONT'D)
Sir!
The line of horses waves, reforms. The only sounds are the
wind in the prairie grasses and the clinking of bridle
fittings and the creak of saddles.
Lt. Worth draws his sword and comes to the carry, with the
guard at the right hip and the blade against the shoulder.
He shouts.
LT. WORTH
Draw swords!
Sergeant Clark and the troopers draw their swords and come to
the carry.
The blades sparkle and wave gently as horses shift from side
to side.
LT. WORTH (CONT'D)
Bugler, sound forward march.
The bugler blows Forward March.
All walk their horses forward in boot-to-boot formation. Lt.
Worth is followed by Sergeant Clark and the bugler, followed
by the line of troopers.
After about 20 paces, the bugler sounds Trot March. All trot
their horses. All but the bugler raise their swords aloft.
After about an additional 60 paces, the bugler sounds Gallop
March. All kick their horses into a gallop, still maintaining
the boot-to-boot alignment.
After about an additional 80 paces, the bugler sounds Charge.
Lt. Worth lowers the tip of his sword, points it forward.
The line of troopers sweeps down the slope toward the
village, maintaining boot-to-boot formation.
In the village, the four women run toward the horses. The
three men walk casually toward tipis.
EXT. A VILLAGE OF THE PEOPLE - DAY - CONTINUOUS
The only movement in the village is from the four women who
have waded the shallow stream and now try to put up a rope
corral around the horse herd.
No other people are visible in the village.
The charging line of troopers are within thirty yards of the
village.
Suddenly: directly in the path of the charging troopers, a
long line of spears springs from the ground, throwing off the
grasses which had hidden them.
The stout spears, spaced two feet apart, are metal, six feet
long. With their butt ends anchored in the ground, they point
toward the charging troopers at a 45-degree angle.
Troopers shout in surprise, pull back frantically on the
reins. The horses skid. Many are impaled, and their riders
are thrown over their heads to be impaled or thrown to the
ground.
About thirty warriors burst from tipis, fire on the soldiers
with repeating rifles. Their shots hit soldiers who have been
thrown by their horses and others who are still mounted.
Soldiers still mounted pull unhorsed troopers up behind them
and ride away at a gallop. Some are shot down by the
villagers.
EXT. ARMY BIVOUAC - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
Tents are arrayed in lines on each side of an open lane.
Soldiers sit and lie around campfires. They eat beans, salt
pork and hardtack from metal plates.
At the end of the line of tents, Lt. Worth and Lt. MICHAEL
Wagner, 25, stand.
LT. WORTH
I never saw anything like it. I've
seen 'em use wooden spears, like
willow, but those spears were
machined metal. And the setup had
springs.
MICHAEL
What about the rifles? You're sure
they fired more than once without
reloading?
LT. WORTH
Yes. I'm sure of it.
MICHAEL
I heard at the Point that they were
working on a repeater, but they
said it would be years before the
Army got them.
Suddenly: the campground is light as day. Lt. Worth and
Michael look up, see a brilliant flare high above that
illuminates the camp.
Soldiers jump up, look at the flare, dumbfounded, squint at
the brilliance.
Suddenly: from the darkness on one side of the campground,
flaming arrows shoot high into the air, describe a high arc,
fall into the campground.
Tents and wagons are hit and set afire. Some soldiers are
hit.
Soldiers run, grab their rifles, aim toward the darkness.
They lower their rifles. All they see is darkness.
The flare dims, drifts downward, burns out. The camp is dark
but for the campfires and burning tents and wagons.
LT. WORTH
What in hell is going on? Who the
hell are we fighting?
EXT. ARMY BIVOUAC - DAY
Tents are down, wagons packed. Teams stand idly, shifting in
their harness.
Troopers mount, form up in a column of twos behind Lt. Worth
and Michael. The column moves off. Three wagons pulled by
mules move into line behind the troopers.
EXT. HILLSIDE NEAR ARMY BIVOUAC - DAY - CONTINUOUS
An Indian lies hidden behind a bush on the slope of a hill.
He watches the column's departure.
The Indian slides down the slope, out of view of the
soldiers. He stands, opens a rawhide bag, takes out two
signal flags.
He faces toward a hill in the distance, takes a flag in each
hand, waves them about, up, down, out, sending a message by
semaphore. He drops his arms to his sides.
In the distance, the Indian who had received the message
holds two signal flags. He turns to face behind him. He
relays the same message to another Indian on a distant hill.
EXT. ARMY POST - COMMANDANT'S HOUSE - DAY
A substantial frontier fort. Many buildings, barracks,
warehouses, barns and corrals, shops, all built around a
parade ground where the United States flag flies from a tall
flagpole.
On the shaded porch of a house that faces the parade, Lt.
Worth, Michael and MAJOR BURKE, 50s, sit in rocking chairs.
They hold drinks.
MICHAEL
These savages have stuff we've
never even heard of.
LT. WORTH
They're certainly not getting it
from our traders. And the British
don't have it. So where are they
getting it?
MAJOR BURKE
Maybe I'll ask them.
Major Burke looks toward the parade. Lt. Worth and Michael
turn and follow his gaze. They see a group of five Indians,
four men and one woman, regally dressed, walking across the
parade.
MAJOR BURKE (CONT'D)
I'm meeting them this afternoon.
They want to talk.
LT. WORTH
What do they want to talk about?
MAJOR BURKE
We'll see.
MICHAEL
Do they speak for The People?
Major Burke frowns.
MAJOR BURKE
You've been here two days. What do
you know about The People?
MICHAEL
I understand it's a confederation
of some sort. Mostly the Plains
tribes, but with some communication
with other tribes.
MAJOR BURKE
It's more than communication. It
seems the confederation includes
tribes from hundreds of miles from
here. It's damned unexpected.
Tribes have been fighting each
other for centuries. Now they have
decided that they have an enemy
more dangerous than the tribe next
door.
Major Burke drinks from his glass. Lt. Worth takes a swallow
from his glass. Lt. Worth turns to Michael.
LT. WORTH
Do you know what they call us?
Michael shakes his head.
LT. WORTH (CONT'D)
Wasichus. The fat takers; the
greedy people, people that want it
all.
MAJOR BURKE
Names are not important. What is
important is where in the hell are
they getting the stuff? We must
find the golden goose. And kill it.
INT. ARMY POST - STORE - DAY
A general store, stocking the goods that would appeal to
soldiers and occasional Indian visitors.
Michael stands at a display table, looks at small pouches
made of soft deerskin.
He looks up, sees KIMIMELA, 20, Sioux, 5'5"ish, pretty, two
braids, standing across the goods table. She holds a small
iron frying pan, examines it.
Kimimela wears a cotton dress, embroidered in subdued colors,
a fringed deerskin jacket, a silver necklace with turquoise
stones.
Michael is stunned, stares at her. She looks up, sees him,
looks down. She puts the pan down, moves away.
She stops near the door where woolen scarves hang on the
wall. She touches the scarves, feeling the material. She
turns back, sees Michael still staring at her.
She walks to the door, exits.
INT. ARMY POST - MEETING ROOM - DAY
The room has a floor and walls of hand-hewn planks. It is
bare of furniture and adornment, but for ten chairs and a
rectangular table.
On one side, Howahkan and two other Indians sit in front,
and two others sit behind. One of those behind is Kimimela.
The Indians are dressed in traditional clothing, mostly Sioux
with a smattering of styles from other plains tribes. They
wear trinkets from local and distant tribes.
They also are adorned with small metal disks attached to
clothing and as pendants around their necks. The disks are
engraved and colored.
Facing the Indians, Major Burke and CAPTAIN JACKSON sit in
chairs. Behind them, Lt. Worth and Michael sit in chairs.
Michael stares at Kimimela. She notices, looks toward the
window.
MAJOR BURKE
We are glad to see you here. We
will listen to what you have to
say.
Howahkan sits upright, stiffly, in his chair.
HOWAHKAN
I am Howahkan. I have lived in
these valleys and these hills sixty
winters. Now wasichus wish to come
to live where I live. Why is this?
I do not go to live in their
country.
MAJOR BURKE
I understand what you say.
HOWAHKAN
Now some wasichus have built cabins
and plowed the earth in the place
that we call the Valley of Plum
Trees.
MAJOR BURKE
Yes, I know. I understand.
HOWAHKAN
Then you will tell them they must
leave this valley?
Major Burke holds up his hand.
MAJOR BURKE
No, I cannot do that. The Great
Father in Washington says that
these people have a right to that
land. No Indians live there, and
you do not need the land.
HOWAHKAN
Your Great Father in Washington has
no power here! The Great Spirit
gave this land to us to use and
pass to our children. The wasichus
must leave!
Major Burke looks at the floor, then at the ceiling, then at
Howahkan.
MAJOR BURKE
I hear you, and I understand. We
will pay you to give us the valley.
We will pay ten bolts of cloth,
twenty fry pans and twenty skinning
knives.
Howahkan frowns.
HOWAHKAN
No! We cannot sell the land. We use
it. We do not own it.
Lt. Worth and Michael look at each other.
Michael looks at Kimimela. She glares at him. He looks away.
HOWAHKAN (CONT'D)
You will not tell them to leave?
MAJOR BURKE
Howahkan. We want peace. We do not
want to fight The People. ... Where
do you get the repeating rifles and
the exploding weapons?
Howahkan glares at Major Burke.
HOWAHKAN
You will not tell them to leave?
Beat.
Howahkan stands. The other Indians stand. They stride to the
door, exit.
Just before reaching the door, Kimimela turns furtively,
makes eye contact with Michael. Her countenance is soft,
questioning.
EXT. ARMY POST - COMMANDANT'S HOUSE - DAY
Major Burke and Michael sit in rocking chairs on the covered
porch. They hold drinks, stare at the parade ground.
MAJOR BURKE
Two things. Related. We're on the
edge of some big trouble. If it
breaks before we find out where
they're getting the armaments, we
may not be able to hold out here.
MICHAEL
Do you think they are finished
talking?
MAJOR BURKE
That's the other thing. Old
Howahkan is not afraid of anything
or anybody. But I don't think he
wants war. Sometimes he rattles his
war gourd, and sometimes he is just
plain rational. You saw him storm
out of here yesterday.
MICHAEL
Yes, sir. Looks bad.
MAJOR BURKE
Yes, except he sent the woman and
her interpreter back this morning
to ask for someone to be sent to
his village. To stay there.
The way she describes it, he wants
nothing less than a United States
ambassador to The People. What do
you think of that?
MICHAEL
The woman who was with him
yesterday?
MAJOR BURKE
Yes.
MICHAEL
Sounds interesting. Would
Washington buy it?
MAJOR BURKE
I've sent word, with my
recommendation that we accept.
MICHAEL
I hope we're here to receive the
reply.
MAJOR BURKE
I'm not waiting. I'm sending
someone presently. You.
Michael reacts, surprised.
MICHAEL
Me? I'm no diplomat, sir.
MAJOR BURKE
You better be a fast learner.
You're recently out of the Point.
You left there with high marks and
came here with top recommendations.
So you'll have friends if
Washington decides that we're nuts.
Major Burke smiles, drinks from his glass. Michael frowns,
stares at the parade.
MAJOR BURKE (CONT'D)
I understand you speak a little
Sioux. That should impress old
Howahkan.
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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.