-Come on...
Come on...
One day, a man went
to take a walk into town.
On his way home he saw a little
dog which had hurt his leg
The poor dog was so lame
he could not lift his foot off
the ground without great pain.
-Aren't you gonna eat, Lucas?
- I'll have mine later, Jacob.
-Lucas, look!
- Get your a*s over here!
-Sorriest God damn hogs
I've ever seen, Christ almighty.
2 and 25 per..
4 and 50 for the both of 'em
it's the best I can do.
-In October you
was giving 5 per.
-It ain't October no more.
Christ, this Gilt's as scrawny
as you are.
-What about one of the horses?
-4 and 50 for the hogs...
25 for the swayback in addition.
Deal?
- I'll take that
cornmeal right there
and the rye flour...
Some beans and that hard bread.
-Okay... let's see...
That's a quarter dollar
for the bread times two.
Even dollar for the beans
and 3 and 50 for the meal
and the flour.
Say uh, Tom Langtry come by...
Tom the older,
not his boy up in Stafford.
Remarked that he might be in the
market for some land nearabout.
-No, thanks, Mr. Cochrane.
- You sure, Lucas?
- We're fine, sir.
- It could be a lot of money--
- I'm gonna need another pound
of that salt beef...
A couple cans of molasses and
three sacks of that Indian corn.
-All right, well that's 20 cents
on the beef...
I keep the corn down
in the cellar
if you wanna bring
your wagon around
I'll go down
and get it for you.
-Okay.
-Say uh... you think
the little one could
help his self to a candy stick?
Red Bird peppermint, I believe.
-Okay. But you can't have it til
after supper, okay?
Jacob!
Heard his mama wasn't nothing
but a dried up old wh*re...
- k*lled herself
all crazy from syphilis.
sh*t!
That little son of a b*tch
just bit me!
I said hold him, damnit!
You little b*stard!
- All right that's enough!
- That's enough!
What have you done here?
What did you do to my boy?!
-That's enough, I said!
-Like hell it is!
That little grubstake
damn dear brained my son!
-We didn't do nothing to him pa,
he just come at us--
-You shut your coward mouth!
-Charles!
You will not be beating this
or any other child in my store,
do you understand me?
-Just let go... let go of me.
-Lucas...
You better get on home now.
Go on, get your brother and go,
both of you.
Go!
Hey.
Get your boys.
-They took my peppermint stick.
- Lucas?
Someone's coming.
-Stay put, you hear me?
-That old Springfield's as
liable to blow up in your hands
as it is to fire off a shot.
-You ain't got business here.
-The hell I don't.
You laid that hickory to my boy,
you took on a debt.
I come to see it satisfied.
They was beating on my brother.
-One arm,
I'll get down off this horse
-and I'll whoop your a*s--
-You keep quiet!
-I ain't going with you.
-The hell you ain't.
I got two hundred beeves
on contract...
You're gonna have to work off
what his broke arm
can't if'n I gotta drag you
outta here.
This is a hard land, son.
You might be
between the hay and the grass
but that don't make it
no less the case.
I'll come back 'round
to collect you in the morning.
-Get to sleep now.
-Lucas?
What did Mama look like?
-I can't remember.
-Lucas Hollister...
As you have been found guilty
of the m*rder
of Charles Edward Gantry
by a jury in good standing
in Sedgwick County
on this day, 4th April,
18 and 82.
And though taking into account,
your youth and circumstances
by virtue of your prior history
with the deceased,
this court has no recourse
but to find this heinous act
premeditated.
As such, Lucas Hollister,
I hereby sentence you to hang...
Sentence to be carried out upon
construction of a suitable venue
and disptach of the Hangman
from Lincoln.
This court is adjourned.
- I can appreciate
that you've come
quite a distance,
Ms. Bassett,
but we can't just--
- Do not speak to me
as if we are acquainted,
Mr. Tyrell.
- I do apologize,
Ms. Bassett, but again--
-The distance I have traveled is
of no consequence
to this discussion.
- The boy's
been tried, Ms. Bassett,
-he's been convicted--
-In Hayesville.
Yes but--
-A saltlick backwater
to say the least.
- Please try
and understand, Ms. Bassett--
-I will hire a lawyer.
I'll appeal to the state court.
- I am a judge of the
state court, Ms. Bassett...
Duly appointed by
Territorial Governor John Geary
in 18 and 54.
27 years on in Sedgwick.
And while I esteem your call
-to plead the boy's--
-To hell with your esteem.
Psalm 82:3...
Give justice to the weak
and to the fatherless.
Do you know me?
-No, Ma'am.
-Look at me when you speak.
Barely a sprout you are.
They tell me I'm kin to you.
Your mother
was Wilhelmina Hollister?
My name is Evelyn Bassett.
Bassetts of Sheridan County.
I was Aunt to your mother.
Though it's been some years
since we had occasion.
I thought it only proper
to come.
-Can you help me?
-It appears my entreaties
have fallen upon deaf ears.
-What'll happen to my brother?
-Arrangements will have
to be made.
-A boy's home?
-I expect.
-Can you take him?
-Certainly not.
-He won't have no one
once I'm gone.
-I'm an old woman, Lucas.
This is simply
the way of things.
-Why'd you come then?
-To see for myself.
Your mother was very dear to me
when she was a child.
I'm afraid I have to take
my leave of you.
I'm sorry
I couldn't have done more.
-Shhhh...
My little Angel...
I know...
Mommy knows.
My little Angel.
It's okay, my darling.
Dear Lord,
please take mercy on this child.
You hate him for it, don't you?
-What?
-For dying.
For making you hurt.
-Don't say that in front of him.
-You think you can fix anything,
Wood...
But you can't fix this.
Why can't you look at him?
Why can't you look at me?
-I wanna bring these sons
of b*tches in clean, Drum.
-Don't bother me none.
Should we bring Pete along?
-Why wake the Sheriff?
-They's up there a piece
outside the hotel.
Looks to be four or five of 'em.
Charlie Blake, Frank Leslie...
Rest of 'em's Mexicans
and Half Breeds.
-Anybody put eyes to the girl?
Not that I seen, Marshall.
- Y'all come for piece
of Charlie Blake?
God damn Bullwhackers...
-They been at it all night
in there...
Liquor
and every other damn thing.
-Drum, you got the left,
Tom, stay right of me.
Keep your head.
If anything happens, get low.
Put that g*n down,
Charlie Blake.
We just come to disarm you.
-Y'all the ones
been hitting them cowtowns
and Shoshone villages
on the Northern trail up
from Nebraska, Charlie?
Huh? don't even bother
robbing 'em no more
you just go
straight to k*lling 'em?
-I'll tell you square...
This ain't a country
I recognize no more!
White man made to answer
for taking a heathen scalp?!
-Don't you do it, Charlie.
They got me, Dan!
Those c*ck got me.
- Christ's sake,
somebody get the Doc!
-Little one can't fall asleep
unless he's with his brother.
Just keeps cryin' and cryin.'
Come on, little one.
- Lucas...
-I wish I could--
We just can't raise up
a little one.
Not with
Mrs. Cochrane's ailments.
-Yeah. That's all right, Bill.
Come on.
- Son of a b*tch
calls me on the prod?...
I don't care a continental
that's meant for play...
-Soon as that boy swings,
this one's going in my scabbard
I'll tell you that right now.
You ever seen a filigree
like that?
And hey, what do you figure them
letters is for, huh? That C.R.?
-Shut your damn mouth,
Charlie Culliver!
That ain't but a boy in there,
you addle-headed son of a b*tch!
-Okay then, Bill.
-Damnit, I am unwell!
-Can I get you anything, Lucas?
You hungry?
All right.
-You don't look like much.
Come on outta there.
-Mister, I don't know you.
No, no, wait! Sheriff!
-Who the hell's cuttin'
the wolf loose out here?
You get away from that boy,
Mister.
God in Heaven.
-Put it down.
You tell any son of a b*tch
who comes after me...
That he will shake hands
with the devil himself.
-Harland-by-God-Rust
-What'd you do to me?
Mister,
what do you want with me?
Did you k*ll those men?
Are you gonna k*ll me?
I-- I can't leave my brother...
I gotta go back.
-There ain't no going back.
We're taking
to the tall timbers.
Straight to the Blackfoot
Highlands til nightfall.
Now you do what I say...
And you might still be alive
when we get there.
-Who are you?
-This ain't no game, boy.
I say ride, we ride,
I say eat, we eat
I say sleep, we sleep.
That's who I am.
Now get on that horse.
-I'm calling for six men
to come forward
and light a shuck
after the Hollister Boy...
And that murderous son of a
b*tch what shinned out with him.
That's 25 dollars for any man
that posse's up, plus expenses.
Tom Long!
Charlie Culliver!
There's not one man in this town
with the grit to call to account
for what's been done
to these fine men?!
-Drink with me, Marshal!
Tanglefoot Mash.
-Go away.
-Do I offend, Marshal?
Do I cause umbrage?
Does the idea
of bending an elbow
with a Bullwhacker like me
cause recoil?
Is that what you're saying?
-I'm saying
take your air elsewhere.
-Shame them cowboys what got
Buck English and Tom Skinner
wasn't up to task
with you last week.
Wood f*cking Helm.
-You just can't shut
the f*ck up, can you, huh?!
It ain't in your nature.
-Wood, Wood!...
Hey, buddy, I got you...
Harley, you get the hell
outta here!
Come on, Wood.
-All right, God damnit...
What the f*ck
are you all lookin' at?
Et invinies in omnibus...
What the f*cking Jesuits
taught me, f*cking martyrs...
You know what that means?
You will find God in all things.
That's a good one, ain't it?
-Come on,
why don't you get yourself
out of the main thoroughfare,
huh?
You're gonna get yourself hit,
Wood.
-Can you explain to me
where God is
up in that bedroom with my boy?
Can you explain
his part in that to me?
-No, I can't.
I'm sorry, Wood.
The sh*t I seen...
The sh*t I done.
I knew a long time ago
there ain't no God.
Woulda been nice
to have been wrong though.
-You stay put.
What part of stay put
don't you savvy?
-It ain't even dark yet,
why are we stopping?
-We're gonna sage hen it
right here.
-Who in the hell are you,
mister?
Mister, I asked you a question.
-Name's Rust.
-I ain't ever heard of nobody
called Rust.
-Your ma Wilhelmina
was my little girl.
She run off when she was young
and married your pa.
-That's a damn lie.
My mama didn't have no pa,
said hers died in the w*r.
-Your ma was a Rust
to the manner born.
Just like you.
That lever belonged
to my Grandaddy Coleman Rust.
He left his mark right there
on the hilt.
-Don't come no closer.
-Give me that r*fle, boy.
-You're a m*rder*r.
-Well, that's something
we have in common.
-You can go to hell.
-Next time you wanna
k*ll somebody,
you make sure you lever one
in there.
-Go twice then for all I care.
-First one's gentle.
Next one won't be.
-What were you looking at
up there?
-This is Shoshone territory.
That scrub cypress
there's a warning sign.
What's left of the
Northern Shoshone been warring
with the settlement militia
all up and down the Big Horn
Plateau ever since Bear River.
Be a shame if we wandered
onto their territory
and they mistook us
for Syracuse Minutemen
and we ended up losing
our scalps.
We'll go around 'em
in the morning.
Anybody ever teach you
to set a snare?
-Yeah.
-Let's go then.
Trail coming
outta the briar patch,
you look close.
Hold this.
-Have you ever seen a man hang?
- Once or twice.
-What was it like?
-Ain't the kind of thing
a man should dwell on.
Skin this.
Then throw him on the fire.
-Elwood.
Laurence.
Thank you.
God damn.
-You're the one made it,
I'd reckon.
-I miss your telegram, Laurence?
-Just rode in this morning.
What's the salt up
in Hayesville?
-A man come to town,
k*ll't Tom Long
and two Deputies...
Sprung the boy, what I
understand he didn't go willing.
-Harland Rust.
-So they claim.
-The same Harland Rust
what m*rder*d Hick Roberts
up in Lincoln back in '67...
Dynamited all them banks up
and down Arkansas,
what was that, '72?
-Yeah.
Done that robbery down
in Crowley too.
1868,
him and the Alvord Stiles g*ng,
k*lled five men.
If I had to guess, he's headed
for the Southern Plains.
- Injun territory.
-Yeah. Settlement's are scarce.
Only jurisdiction belongs
to the U.S. Government.
The boy had an Aunt on his
Mother's side come calling
on his behalf two days prior.
Evelyn Bassett,
up from Sheridan County.
-That mean something?
-Probably it don't.
-I want this son of a b*tch,
Wood.
It's been going on eight years
since anyone's seen hide
nor hair.
I'll give you men, resources,
whatever you need.
-Be best if I travel light.
-At least take
d*ck Miller along.
He's gonna be riding
in this afternoon.
-Christ's sake, Laurence...
-If it's getting to where you
can't throw a rope out there
without catching it on someone
I'd prefer you had more backup
than just Drum
and them two Shitkickers
out of Atchison.
I never met nobody
hunted a man like you, Wood.
Never met nobody who kept
files and used forensics
and whatnot
instead of just relying
on good old fashioned pursuit
and capture.
How's your boy?
All right then, Wood.
-You just got yourself k*lled,
boy.
You really think you stand
some kind of a chance
out here alone,
instead of with me?
You know what happens
when a man hangs?
If he's lucky, his neck
snaps clean and that's that.
And if'n he ain't, well...
he dangles for a spell.
Messes his trousers,
eyes pop out,
go coal black
while he chokes to death...
Might not die
straight away neither.
Might take an hour...
Or two.
You really in such an all-fire
hurry to back to that?!
-What do you care?
-I'll tell you what...
You show me all the folks
you got lined up that do,
and I'll leave you be.
-It's a Godless thing,
keeping a man
from burial like this.
-You can bury him now.
-You sure you don't wanna
stop off any place else, Wood?
I'm sure Rust would appreciate
getting out of Wyoming quick
as we can let him.
-Shut your c*ck.
-You don't look like her.
Her manner wasn't nothing
like yours neither.
My mother was a spirited woman.
My pa used to say a man
that looks over his shoulder
on a straight piece of road
ain't a man
that led an honest life.
Might as well be talking to your
horse as much as you got to say.
Better traveling companion too.
-He doesn't ask
as many questions as you do,
I'll give him that.
Let's stop here.
Ha!
-What'd you do that for?
-He was spent.
You could tell from his breath.
Panic'll take hold and he'll run
for miles then he'll drop.
Anyone coming for us'll have
to account for those tracks.
We'll ride two up.
-I don't know what to call you.
- Call me how you like.
-Will you at least tell me
where you're taking me?
-New Mexico. South of the
Mescalero Reservation,
town called Masilla.
-What's in Masilla?
-Man, I used to ride with.
I send word, he'll take us
to the Mexican side
of El Paso, Guadalupe.
There's an
Anglican school there.
-I can't speak Spanish.
-So we should go back
to Hayesville?
These folks are from up North.
Teach w*tbacks how to speak
English proper and the like.
No lawman North of El Paso
can come for you...
No bounty hunter would think
to look there either.
-I don't want to go to Mexico.
-Want don't enter into it.
There's alive and there's ain't.
Try to focus on the former.
-What about you?
Will you stay in Mexico?
-The food don't set with me.
Come on.
-She never mentioned you.
My Mother, not once.
- I expect.
- Tolliver.
-Preacher!
Christ,
look at this sorry rawheel.
-Man from the railroad'll be
by tomorrow to collect him...
Take him back to Missouri
to hang.
-Now what's an old reb like you
doing this West of Kentucky
anyhow?
- f*ck' your mother.
-Oh, a telegram come in
for you.
Thousand dollar bounty
just went out.
That name mean anything to you,
Harland Rust?
He is the formidable sort.
-To merit a thousand dollar's
I'd reckon so.
God bless the wicked.
For they continue
to pay my bills.
-Come on. Come on...
Don't be scared...
Don't be scared now.
-Hey.
- Come on.
Hey, you got it.
-Hey, shithead.
-Hey!
The devil what stuck me
with you!
-Yonder come three riders.
State your business!
-Boone. Clete.
You're lookin' prosperous
as usual.
-Wood Helm. Drum.
What the hell you doin'
out here?
-We're traking
a couple fugitives headed South.
Man and a young boy, could use
you if you wanna ride along.
-I don't know, Wood.
We got these hogs now.
-Could pay you
200 each plus expenses.
You still uh... you still
making that Lagu Pierre beef?
-I sure am.
Little clarified butter
in the pan...
Rosemary, I'll splash in
some of that Medeira.
I must confess, I've been
trying my hand at a nice
vol au vent
fianciere type pastry too.
-Main ingredient's bullshit.
-Bite your tongue!
Civilized men are conversatin.'
-So what do you say?
You wanna come with?
-Well now I ain't had no kinda
tender loving in a co*n's age.
Maybe we could stop over if
it don't slow you up too much
I could take my ease
once or twice.
-Good Lord.
What kinda snaggle-toothed
swamp donkey gonna let you
stick your pecker pole in 'em?
-You shut your mouth.
Come over here! Come over here
and get your whoopin!'
- Come get your whoopin'
then! Come on, get it!
Come on! Come on!
-Mr. Lang,
have you met our Abigail?
Come down from Omaha
last April.
-Hello, Abigail.
-Hello, Mr. Lang.
-Y'all play nice now.
-You traveling alone, honey?
-A man never travels alone
when he has the Good Book
with him, Ma'am.
-That's how I come
to call my son.
It's just him and me.
He ain't but four.
Call't him Abel.
-Abel, son of Adam.
-Mm-hm.
-k*lled by his brother Cain.
Offered up the first born
of his flock to the Lord,
that is a fine Christian name.
If I may...
I am Appalachian by way
of being washed
in the blood of Christ
in the Loosahatchee River,
1851...
Name of Fenton Lang.
Langs of Tennessee, Polk County,
third generation,
going all the way back
to my Great Grandaddy
Preston Lang.
Though folks have taken
to calling me Preacher
on account of me being filled
with the word like I am.
You know I wonder at times
if that ain't in fact
meant to be
sharp in connotation.
Oh Lord.
I am prone to the sermon
I'm afraid.
May I give you my testimony?
-As long as it comes
with ten dollars
and a hard c*ck at the end of it
you can give me
whatever you like.
-Let's hope the Lord
takes care of the second.
-So what brings you
to Ellsworth, Mr. Lang?
-I'm a bounty hunter.
It's a trade that goes back
generations in my family.
You see,
the Polk County Langs
have a proud tradition
more than a hundred years back
of chasing down runaway sl*ves
in Tennessee
and up into Kentucky.
I was taught by my Daddy
and him by his.
The patrol I was in
brought to account
more than a hundred
of them runaways.
I k*lled nine by my own hand.
You know I was just
eighteen years old
when I brought three members
of the Halifax g*ng
to trial in Alabama.
I guess word just spread out
from there.
-I think I'll excuse myself.
-Hey.
Why don't you just sit
for a while.
It's your turn.
So tell me.
What makes a pretty little thing
like you
sell her soul to the devil?
-Two weary travelers coming in!
-Identify yourselves!
-Merrit Cecil White here.
Down from South Dakota.
My Grandson Pete.
-Cabin's full up.
We've been on the trail
since sun up.
Boy needs a place to set
for a while.
-You don't look like no
kinda' road agents, I reckon.
-Willard LeRoy here.
This here chawed up
scrap of weed's Emmett.
-Evenin.'
-Come on and warm yourself
by the fire.
Help yourself to some
of this Arbuckle's.
I find it to be an indispensable
and unfailing beverage
more and more these days
I must confess.
Serve it with every meal.
No, it'll just keep me up
all the more.
So... where y'all headed?
-Arizona. Copper mine
outside of Smith's Mill.
Promise of work there.
-Hell of a long way
to come on one hoss.
-We had a nice Tennessee
walking horse
tore a ligament
outside of Greensburg,
we had to put her down.
-He's as green as salt cedar!
-Yeah... we're headed
to Arkansas by way of Wyoming.
Changing world these days, you
make your living as a trapper.
Fur done gone belly up,
what with the Bison
being all hunted out
and waning appetites
for beaver skins...
Ain't but a handful of trappers
like him and me left.
Pretty soon, I'll be sittin'
in some finery somewhere
Sellin' Ladies delicates.
Well it's fixin'
to get dark out.
Y'all feel free to lay them
bedrolls out here by the fire.
Easy now, boy.
Keep them hands from drifting.
-I don't understand...
It's a thousand dollars, boy.
Don't take it personal.
-Relieve yourself
of that longbore.
-I reckon you'll k*ll me
even if I do.
-Skin yourself I said or I'll
take the starch out right here!
- Willard!
Don't come out til I say.
-Oh, sh*t. Can't believe it!
I'm shot!!
Please!!
Please... Mister, please please
please please please no!...
Please!! Please please!!...
-What did you do?
-We gotta go now.
-What did you do?!
-What I had to do!
- He was barely older
than I was.
-That Winchester
was plenty old.
This is Indian territory.
Apache, Comanche, Arapaho...
Any one of 'em's liable
to have heard that shot.
We gotta peel hide
outta here now.
-I don't wanna do this anymore,
-I can't--
-Lucas--
-I don't wanna do this anymore!
I just want everything
to go back to the way it was.
I wanna go back to the farm
with my brother
and I want everyone
to leave us alone!
-God damnit, stop it!
- I can't!
-Lucas, you ain't a boy no more!
My guess is you ain't
been a boy for a while
now you might have been dealt
a bum hand on that score
but that's the way it is
and cryin' don't make it
no different.
It's just gonna
make you weak to it.
Now come on.
-Ms. Bassett?
Wood Helm, Ma'am.
United States Marshals
out of Sedgwick County.
Wonder if I could talk to you
about Lucas Hollister.
-I suppose you'd better
come in then.
- Earl Bassett,
he was your husband?
-He was.
Taken eleven years ago
this April.
-This is your father?
-Along with my sister
and brother and myself.
Taken in Chicago,
we were born and raised.
I believe he was 36
at the time.
-I understand you went
to Hayesville
to see the Hollister boy.
-I did.
He's kin to you?
His mother was my niece.
Daughter to my sister-in-law,
Celia.
It seemed only proper
that I go.
-Has the boy reached out
to you, Ms. Bassett?
-His name is Lucas.
I expect that makes it easier
for you, doesn't it?
The Hollister boy.
I expect that if you were
to call him by his given name,
it would make him an actual
living, breathing child
rather than another
faceless bounty you're after.
-Not one to mince words,
are you?
-The wise man speaks
because he has something to say.
The fool speaks
because he must say something.
-Aristotle?
-Plato.
You're an educated man.
-Much as I need to be.
How do you know Harland Rust,
Ms. Bassett?
-If you have any
further inquiries, Mr. Helm,
I encourage you to direct them
to my attorney,
Robert Clay Allison in Sherman.
-You weren't born a Bassett.
You married the name.
Who'd you say your father was?
Who's Harland Rust to you,
Ms. Bassett?
-Marshal...
I'm afraid this conversation
has reached its dispatch.
-He's kin to you,
ain't he?
Your brother?
Good day, Ms. Bassett.
-He wasn't always like this,
the man he became.
You don't know him.
-Did you tell him
about his Grandson, Ms. Bassett?
-Please go.
-Ma'am.
-Who are they?
-Kiowa.
- They hostiles?
-Depends on who you ask.
-What's that paint
on the horses?
-Means they're a raiding party.
Ain't bound by no reservation.
They'll be hunting Ute
and Navajo clear down to Mexico.
-So what do we do?
-We wait.
We give them their way,
they'll give us our way.
I'm gonna send word
on to Masilla.
Scare us up some chuck too,
you're lookin' a little narrow
around the equator.
What's that?
-What?
-What just come
outta your pocket.
- Nothing.
-Give it to me.
- I said it ain't nothing.
I said give it to me.
"Dear Jacob. I want you to know
that I am fine..."
-Listen, I was just--
-Damnit, boy!
-I was just trying
to let him know I'm all right.
-Have you lost your damn rudder,
you send this, it would draw
a line straight back to us.
-We ain't seen nobody coming--
-There's always somebody coming.
Them two at the cabin,
they knew who we were,
that means there's money out
on us,
dead or alive, you savvy that?
-Who cares anyway,
you cranky old mule...
-Hey, let me tell you something,
I'm not your Daddy...
It's not my job
to take care of you,
it's to keep you alive.
.Now you tuck them horses away,
if anything happens you ride
outta here and you ride fast.
You understand?
Do you understand?
-Yes.
-Y'all are taking your last
looks at Henry Clay Pickett.
Was whiskey done him in.
Whiskey and wh*res.
Never let it be said
he turned a crooked card...
nor that he done a man
a bad turn clear eyed and sober.
That's all I got, I guess.
-Into your hands, oh Lord,
we humbly entrust this man.
Deliver him now from evil.
And bid him eternal rest.
-All right, that'll be
12 cents a word, dollar 56...
Thank you.
-Hey. I thought I told you
to stay put.
Now come on.
-Will you stroll with me
in the promenade, my darling?
Voulez-vous marcher... avec moi
de l'eau... ma chrie?...
-What the hell
are you going on about?
-It's called bettering yourself,
you dusty possum.
French as she is spoke.
A jest in sober earnest.
I dead myself in envy
to see her.
Je meurs d'envie de...
If brains was knives
you couldn't cut hot butter.
That's good cornmeal
you're wasting.
-Do you take umbrage?
-You takin' umbrage?
l'air n'est-il pas charmant
cette de la journe?.
Isn't the sky lovely
this time of day?
Yeah.
You're wasting it again,
I'm warning you, Clete.
-Do you take umbrage?
-You take umbrage?
Defend yourself,
you muley lipped c*cksucker!
Hiya!
Grease bellied c*cksucker
I will do you harm!
- Hey God damnit.
Knock that sh*t off.
I'm gonna beat you to a pulp!
-You know, we ain't got time
for such nonsense.
By all means.
You take umbrage?! Huh?!
I'm tired of your sh*t!
-I said pull in your horns
God damnit, now!
-I wouldn't do that
if I was you, no,
that's just gonna rile him up.
This one bucks close
to the ground,
he'll fight you
til hell freezes over.
Then he'll skate on the ice.
-Then what would you recommend,
Drum?
-I don't know, Miller.
You're the one
that got off your horse.
-Hey, Boone.
Don't make me tell your ma
you two was scrappin.'
-Yeah...
Dead as corned beef these two.
-A couple Apache come
across 'em, brung 'em here.
County'll pay
20 dollars per so
as to discourage folk
from trading the teeth
and the eyeballs
and the like.
Blue River trail area, you say?
-That dugout hollow
in that dog leg,
two day's ride from Windy Hill.
-Oh yeah...
Got a little bite to it.
See here?
Bowie knife. Got them jagged
little teeth on the spine.
Same pigsticker k*ll't Tom Long,
I had to venture a guess.
-Buzzards startin'
to gather out yonder.
-What do you mean?
-Scavengers.
They come for the bodies.
-The hell you say.
-Fella from the county's
supposed to come out
with the mail wagon Wednesday...
Take them trappers
and the post on to Garfield.
Looks like them fellers
ain't gonna wait.
-Say hello, Clete.
-Damn, Clete, you could back
a buzzard off a gut wagon,
but that was a damn fine shot.
-God damn wind kicked up,
otherwise I'd have taken the
feather right off that bowler.
-Well... Goodbye old paint,
for I am leaving Cheyenne.
-Got an appetite like a Coyote
for a little scrap.
Like having a third man
riding along.
You all right?
-I was just thinking
about my Mother.
It's funny, I can remember every
single thing about her dying
but I can't seem
to remember her face.
-It's hard watching someone
getting taken slow like that.
-I was the one
kept care of her.
Think I was ten maybe,
Jacob was barely walking yet.
The fever just kept taking
little parts of her day by day.
-Let's eat up.
Got a long day's ride
ahead of us tomorrow.
We keep up a good tilt, we'll
make New Mexico by nightfall.
-What happened to you?
-How do you mean?
Why are you so full of hate?
You know where I'm from?
-Wyoming?
I'm from Chicago.
-No.
-Yeah.
My father was a newspaper man,
Harland Senior.
After my time
with the Fifth Regiment,
I come down to Oklahoma to farm
had me a hundred acre corn,
another fifty hard durum...
We got flooded out in '65...
Smith Norton Bank
took my land...
I dynamited those sons
of b*tches in '66.
And two more banks up
the Ottawa Trail in '67.
I have not been
on speaking terms
with the law ever since.
My grandfather Coleman Rust,
he fought in the Apache Wars...
k*ll't himself 38 Apaches
using this very r*fle.
Used to stay with us
when I was a boy.
Taught me the Ozark
back county. Jicarilla.
How to stalk deer
in the Chautauqua Hills.
That cedar line...
Like hunting a whisper
in the wind.
Not much paw and heller in that
anymore, not for an old man.
I mostly go
from place to place now.
Worked as a Brakeman...
Run mustangs in the Dakotas...
Mule skinner, foundryman...
-Must get lonely.
-A man makes his choices.
-Did you know?
About my mother I mean?
-I heard something last August,
I dont know...
I always thought
I'd have a chance to...
Some things in this life
you can't get back, I reckon.
- Hey! Get back here!
Come here!
-Whoa...
-What's all the bother?
-It's that reward went out.
-Bunch of ditch riders and mail
order cowboys couldn't find
their a*s with two hands,
you ask me.
Who's the reward on?
-Somebody thought
they mighta seen
that Hollister boy yesterday
while they was hangin'
Henry Pickett.
Him and Harland Rust.
Thousand dollars out
on the both of 'em.
Bunch of hell for leather types
have been coming
through here steady since.
-Thousand dollars, you say?
Well...
Time to swap some lead
and have ourselves
a horse race, I suppose.
-We best get a drag on.
-He used to go on and on
about this r*fle.
My pa.
He'd strip it down every week,
polish everything all the way
down to the springs.
This Henry...
It's ruined the life of almost
anyone it's ever come across.
Them Apaches... mine,
Charles Gantry's...
My father's.
-How do you mean?
- He k*lled himself
with this r*fle
a year after my mother passed.
-You're lookin' poorly.
Gettin' ready to boil.
Man I used to ride with about
a half day North of Arnett.
We'll go stay with him.
Come on.
Your pa about?
-What do you want?
-Lookin' for Chunk Bowdre.
-I remember you.
Figured you for dead.
- Chunk about?
-You're five years too late.
Bunch of men in hoods
come for him one night
for something y'all done up
in Nebraska 20 years ago.
They strung him up from that
Mexican Blue Oak out yonder.
Hoping they mighta' found what
rock you was hiding under too.
-The boy needs a bed.
-Ain't no bed here.
Not for you.
Not for any of you murdering
b*stards ever run with Chunk.
-My condolences.
-You can take your condolences
the hell outta here.
And don't never come back.
-You look after him, all right?
-Appreciate it.
-Frank Bascom.
You old alkalied mule,
how you keepin?'
Wood Helm.
Well I don't travel like a Colt
no more but I ain't complaining.
- I was wondering
if you still had
that old 40 rod Sharps...
Heading into
unorganized territory
and I'd like to have something
with a little more range
than that old
Remington Rolling Block.
-Laurence Stilwell sent word
from Ledford...
Fella from the telegraph office
brung it over.
I'm sorry, Wood.
-All right then.
-Hey whoa...
-Lucas...
Whoa... Whoa whoa...
Hah!
-Shhhh...
Be still now.
-I don't think it's Typhoid.
Cholera neither,
his back ain't all rigid
and I don't see no spots.
I got some things here...
see if I can make something
maybe to break his fever.
-I'm sorry...
Mama...
-Quiet now...
-I'm sorry!...
Mama!...
-He is as ugly as homemade sin,
but he knows
how to toss them pots around
I will give him that.
-Old Boone's outdone
himself again.
Made some nice squab chicken...
some of these
fried parsnip cakes...
Little milk butter on 'em...
You oughta eat something, Wood.
-No I'm good.
Look, look. Look here, look...
Little town called Mosquero,
other side of Dawes Pass...
Only place for a hundred miles
Rust can supply up
before he heads South.
I figure he'll be there
in two days' time.
Liable to be too many folks
on the trail
so he's gonna head right up
over this pass
Now we stick to the trail,
we'll beat him there
by half a day.
First chance we get,
I'll send word to Stilwell.
-Maybe we oughta
wait a minute, Wood.
-You know it occurs to me
that I...
I've survived just
about every lawman I ever...
I ever worked with.
You realize that, Drum?
-Don't put me
in the ground just yet.
-Apprehended 146 wanted men
in my career as a U.S. Marshal.
- Yeah?
-18 of 'em I sent to hang.
-Never did no damn good neither.
Certainly never seemed
to deter nobody.
- Well the only order
that exists in this world
is the order we impose.
A man loses sight of that,
he's got nothing.
You taught me that.
-Last year,
I brought Tom Bell his self,
head of the Tom Bell g*ng
to justice
for k*lling them two fellers
in Marysville.
When they asked Tom his
final words up on that scaffold,
he spoke with a peace
and a clarity I'd never heard
from a man.
Here's a man
for whom the long,
hard road was finally over...
And it was with certainty
he was going off
to meet his great reward.
But the second they pulled
that lever,
I knew that was it.
There was no great reward
waiting on Tom.
Just eternity of nothing.
And that's all a man gets
in this world.
Eight years old, Drum.
- Lucas...
Lucas...
Lucas!
-See you got
some of your color back.
-How long was I out for?
-Day and a half.
You were in and out for most
of it til the fever broke.
-Thanks.
-That's a fine pup
you got there, little man.
- His name's Albert.
-How long you had him?
- Two days.
Boy and his grandpa come by.
Boy let me keep him.
-Well ain't that a treat.
A boy and his grandpa you say.
Samuel, who you talkin' to?
-Afternoon Ma'am.
Name's Fenton Lang.
Won't ask for
but a minute of your time.
-You from the bank?
- No, Ma'am.
-We ain't lookin' to sell.
-Well, Ma'am,
I wouldn't dream of asking.
You're widow to Chunk Bowdre,
that right?
Heard he'd been took a
few years back, my condolences.
-You a friend of Chunk's?
-Gosh, no Ma'am, quite
the opposite if I am to confess.
I'm the sort generally plays
Coyote to Chunk's jackrabbit
if you take my meaning.
-You the law?
Not per se, Ma'am,
but I am registered official
with the State of Tennessee.
I am a bounty hunter by trade.
-Dandy thing like you?
-Truth be told, I'm just
passing through en route
to Fort McKinnley...
Managed to find myself
between watering holes
and wondered
if I might take the liberty.
Well's 'round back.
Much obliged.
-You hungry?
Some more of these Buckwheat
cakes for you, Mr. Lang?
-I couldn't possibly, Ma'am.
I'm about ready to burst.
-It's been a spell
since I cooked for a man.
-Must be hard
just the two of you out here.
How long's it been?
-Five years now.
-Must get mighty lonesome
sometimes.
-You sure you won't have
just one more, Mr. Lang?
-Maybe just one.
That is a nice laugh.
Good Heavens...
You have received the word.
-Yes, I have.
-He heals the broken-hearted...
He binds their wounds...
He's a father
to the fatherless...
A defender to widows is God
in his holy dwelling.
These last five years
must have been a chore
for you and the boy.
-Chunk was no prize
by any means, but...
I do miss him sometimes.
Miss havin' a man
around the house.
-When's the last time
someone's taken you to town...
Bought you a pretty dress
or the like?
-No one's taken me to town
in a long time.
Samuel.
Take Albert outside to play.
- Okay, Mama.
-And don't come back
until I call.
-What'd the old man want, Kate?
-Who?
-The old man that came by
two days ago.
Had a young boy
travelin' alongside him.
What'd he want?
-We ain't seen no one
like that--
-Samuel told me a boy and his
grandpa give him that pup
not just two days ago.
-He's imagining things.
-Oh, deliver my soul
from lying lips
and a deceitful tongue.
-He was here.
Two days ago, like you said.
I told him to leave
and that was the end of it.
-Which way did they go?
-South.
Down the valley.
You all horn
and no rattle, Mr. Lang?
-Ma'am.
- Harland Rust!
-Harland Rust, present yourself!
Got me a seasoned gunhand
out here, old man!
Do not be foolish!
You ain't chasin' the devil
'round this stump!
Show yourself I says!
Christ!
God, I'm hit!
- Lucas!
-I'm here!
- Run!
Get the r*fle!
-Rust!
You son of a wh*re!
- Come on.
-It's not so bad...
I just wanna rest here
for a minute...
-Are you okay?
-I'm all right...
I've had worse...
Don't fret none.
It's all right.
We're gonna be all right.
-You're bleeding pretty bad.
-I've been hurt worse.
-Yeah, but you're not...
-What?
I'm not young anymore?
-I didn't mean that.
-I may be long in the tooth,
but I haven't had my horns
sawed off yet.
-Yeah, but if we can't
stop the bleeding--
-Lucas. It'll be all right.
I just have to rest here
for a spell.
You don't resemble
your mama none.
-I know.
My father neither.
-It's Celia.
Your grandma.
I married her after the w*r.
I was 38, she was 19,
your ma come the following year.
All went a cropper in '65.
Our boy Henry was born,
the next day she was out there
sandbagging with the rest of us,
trying to save the farm.
-The flood?
-Took everything we had.
Took my boy.
Bank come for the land
soon after that.
Celia wasn't the same anymore.
One day, she walked
into the South Grand River
and never come up.
Sent your Ma to live
with Celia's kin,
I figured I'd just...
Cut picket and drift.
-Why me?
-How do you mean?
-Why me and not her?
-I don't know.
I was never much good to her
or anybody else, I guess.
-How many men have you k*lled?
-I don't remember.
-That you, Ike?
My g*ns are in their leather.
-You turn around and go back
the way you come, Preacher.
-The old man do that to you?
-He's a curly wolf
that son of a b*tch.
Ain't togged out
in no sheep's wool neither.
-Don't suppose you might flush
out a quail on my account.
-I said git God damnit.
We ain't in no sod pawing mood--
-Which way?
-He's headed over Dawes Pass.
Got about a half day
jump on you.
-God bless.
-Don't come no closer!
-Aim co-BAH!!
Aim co-BAH!! Aim co-BAH!!
Aim co-BAH!!
Aim co-BAH!!
-Trade...
This g*n for the horse.
For the horse... Trade...
-Hay Stin ah-awn.
Hay Stin ah-awn!!
-Strange boy.
-Come on,
we're going in here!
-Now these sorrels
are Injun broke mind you.
I'm tellin' you,
you ain't never seen
a saddle tr*mp better on a horse
than these Cayuse
outta Oregon.
What they name them horses
for matter of fact.
Same as them Coo-e-tans...
Yeah, they's tryin' to make 'em
all into farmers now,
you believe that?
Ain't never seen an Injun raise
nothing but hell on a scalp.
Well, look what just blew in
with the tumbleweeds.
I'm gonna go find some help.
-I don't need any help.
-You're gonna die if I don't.
-They's payin' 25
for a Kiowa scalp now,
50 for the whole kit
and kaboodle.
And a Kaw'll get you 75 per.
-Is there a doctor nearabout?
-There was one with a line camp
pulling up stakes
about half a mile West
from here.
He might still be there.
-Stay here, I'll get back
as soon as I can.
-Yeah I was there in Nebraska
back in '79,
just outside Fort Robinson...
Them Northern Cheyenne
got loose...
Them Winchesters
set to rolling...
k*ll't 75 of them
scalp lifters.
We came across three of them
Kiowa savages this morning
riding brush back
through that
cross canyon
six miles back.
One of 'em
had the prettiest Henry r*fle
I ever put eyes on...
Nice alkaline gold filigree...
Stubborn mule just couldn't
let go of his Henry.
You know, supposedly there's
an old man and a boy
traveling South
through New Mexico...
They's offering a thousand
dollars on the both of them,
y'all hear that?
Then in these two blow
with the wind...
Hey, old friend, you look like
a corpse forgot to fall over.
Why don't you let
me buy you a drink?
Come on,
a little coffin varnish
ain't gonna put your soul
at risk none.
-Heaven ain't waitin'
on neither one of us.
-Amen to that.
How about you cool that saddle
for spell and stand up?
This thumb buster I got dangling
at my side ain't no watch charm.
I don't pack it for bluff
nor ballast.
I'm a high line rider, old man.
I'm telling you to stand up.
-Harland Rust.
I want you to stand up
nice and slow
and toss any shootin' irons
you got.
-Whoa, whoa, whoa,
we was conversatin' here.
-Conversation's over.
-Who's that sayin' so?
-The law.
-Ain't no law around here.
Ain't no iteration he's walking
out of here with you.
-Damnit!... Damnit!
-He hoorawed you good,
didn't he?!
-Shut the f*ck up!
Put your f*ck' teeth away!
-He's gonna die,
you gotta help him!
-We're all gonna die.
-That bounty's mine!
-Lucas!
-God damnit, Drum...
-Aw Christ that's a God damn
two dollar shirt.
-Go on.
- Lucas...
-No...
Come on...
Come on, get up...
You down there, old man?
I don't like
your chances much on foot...
I used to go hunting
with my Daddy...
-I want you to go now, boy.
And don't stop for nothing.
I'm gonna hold him here
as best I can.
-I'm not leaving you...
-You gotta go...
-No!
-Come on!
- Son of a b*tch!
God damnit!
f*ck!
-Stay here and look after Drum!
-God damnit you're not going
after him alone!
-Skin yourself of that weapon...
Or I'll put a hole
in the boy's head.
I ain't one to make
idle threats, Mr. Rust.
Formidable my a*s.
- No! No!
-You let go of that boy
right now.
-Whoa now, Marshal...
Just take it easy,
slow down now...
I'm on this bounty
all legal and proper,
we's on the same side
now don't be a sore loser,
I got here first.
-Turn him loose,
we'll sort it out.
- Can't do that.
Now you put that
head cutter down.
-I'm giving you a lawful order,
turn him loose.
-Put it down...
Down, down, down, down...
There you go.
-Got more men coming.
Ain't no way out
but the way I come.
-God will show me the way.
For I am his servant...
I am God's angel of wrath
to bring punishment
upon the evil doer...
And this boy has sinned.
And he must pay the price.
Now let me do God's work.
Oh, sh*t.
-Grandpa!
- No, don't touch it...
- Just keep pressing on it!
-Where's Harland Rust?
God damnit...
How bad you hurt?
-You're that Marshal Helm
out of Wyoming.
-Nearly crossed paths
once or twice.
Twelve years ago in Missouri...
then again in Sheridan County,
'72.
-The Federal Bank in Kingman.
-That's right.
-Make a deal with you Marshal...
Let him go...
And I'll come quiet.
-I can't do that.
- He's not a k*ller.
-That ain't up to me.
-Thirteen year-old boy
goes back there to hang
for something that never
should have happened
in the first place?
Now where's the good in that?!
-It ain't my job
to decide that.
-You got a son, Marshal?
You let the boy
ride outta here...
And all the bad that come
from what he done ends here.
Or...
You'll be the first man
I truly regret k*lling.
You gotta go now, Lucas.
-Don't say that.
-Them other lawmen are gonna
be ridin' up from Mosquero.
I want you to ride South
-a day to Masilla...
-I can't...
You're gonna be looking
for a man named Anselmo...
My sister she--
Everything's been arranged.
He's gonna take you to Mexico.
-I can't do this by myself...
-Yes, you can...
yes, you can.
Now don't you cry
no tears for me...
You understand?
Never.
A man chooses who he is.
Don't you ever forget that.
-Lucas.
Lucas. Go on.
Go on.
-Elwood.
-Laurence.
-You all right?
-Yeah.
-Christ almighty.
So this is Harland Rust.
Where's the boy?
I asked you where's the boy,
God damnit?
-He made a run for it.
Him and his horse went
into the ravine,
fell a hundred foot.
Kiowa scavengers come for him
before we could get to the body.
-So I guess that's it then.
-I reckon.
-Get this son of a b*tch
stitched up.
Ain't no point taking a dead man
back to hang.
-You the Hollister boy?
Harland's grandson?
-Yes, sir.
-The old man about?
-It's just me now.
-Okay.
Name's Anselmo.
-I'm Lucas.
Lucas Rust.
-Sure you don't wanna come with?
-Think I'll ride home alone.
-All right then, Wood.
Hell of a job.
See you back in Sedgwick.
- Hiya!
- It's time, Harland.
Get him up.
-Got a stiff rope
and a short drop
waitin' on you, old man.
-Go forth Christian soul
from this world
in the name of God
the almighty...
We pray Heavenly Father,
this day,
for your divine justice,
grace and mercy.
Amen.
-Um...uh...
I think this man's dead,
Marshal.
-k*ll him twice then.
-Lucas!
- Coming back
to be part of the completion
of the filming of Rust
after the tragedy
that took Halyna's life
was the most difficult decision
I've ever had to make.
But I knew that it was
the wish of Halyna's family
that her final word
not simply vanish,
that it could be seen
and appreciated,
that people would have
the opportunity to discover
how uniquely talented she was,
that they could see the world
through her eyes,
even if just for a few hours.
For the crew that returned
and the new crew members
that joined us,
we completed Rust
to celebrate our friend Halyna
her art, her talent,
and the indelible legacy
she left behind.
Welcome to our World! Where we serve you cookies to ensure you get the best viewing experience on our site.
Did you know that you can remove censorship board-wide, use our advanced search functions, be notified when new content is posted, join our memberships, set episodes to show in any order you want & more if you are logged into your account?
Register or sign in here: ucp.php?mode=register
Did you know that you can remove censorship board-wide, use our advanced search functions, be notified when new content is posted, join our memberships, set episodes to show in any order you want & more if you are logged into your account?
Register or sign in here: ucp.php?mode=register
Rust (2024)
Moderators: Maskath3, sidolanters, GabrielAlejo2341