Original subtitles

- [Bat] There's a reason they call it the Wild West.

(guns firing)

- Apache!

- [Augusta] You're telling me

the sheriff's not even going to go out and look for them.

- [Bat] A boy taken from his family,

raised as an Apache Brave

- En Da.

- [Bat] This is the true story of Herman Lehmann,

(gun cocking)

the blue eyed Apache.

(train horn blowing)

I was just a young man when I first headed west.

The years that followed I became a cowboy, a gunslinger

and even served as sheriff of Dodge city,

the most lawless towns in the country.

My name is Bat Masterson.

Now I'm a reporter and I've come west again

to chronicle the world that I know best,

the American West.

(gun firing)

War of gold, land, destiny flooded the frontier with men,

both good and bad.

These are the incredible, true tale of the Wild West.

(train horn blowing)

When it comes to the Old West,

it's not always easy to separate fact from fiction.

That's why I've come to Loyal Valley, Texas

to learn the true story of the blue eyed Apache.

A little boy named Herman Lehmann

who was snatched from his family

raised to become a full fledged Apache Brave.

It's very nice to meet you Mrs. Lehmann.

- Likewise, Mr. Masterson.

I've heard very nice things about you.

- I've been looking forward to hearing directly from you

what really happened to your son, Herman.

- Well, Mr. Masterson, I don't know what you've heard,

but most of the stories that have been told

about my son over the years are just plain wrong.

So I do appreciate the opportunity

to tell you about.

- The legend of the blue eyed Apache.

- Well yes, I guess that's what they're calling

the story these days.

You see Mr. Masterson,

Herman is not a legend.

He's my son.

- Tell me about your family Augusta.

- Well, Wilhelmina was a great big sister to the boys.

Willie was my youngest

and he followed his big brother Herman around like a puppy.

Herman could be a handful.

He had a stubborn streak.

But he was tough as nails, even as a little boy.

I remember one day when Herman was about seven,

he was helping a sister chop firewood.

- [Wilhelmina] Okay Herman, hold it steady.

(Wilhelmina gasping)

- [Augusta] Wilhelmina missed the log

and cut Herman's pretty bad.

I had to stitch it up with

a sewing needle with threads soaked in iodine.

I knew it had to be painful,

but he never shed a single tear.

- Tough kid.

- [Augusta] Yes, he was.

We didn't have much, but we were happy.

(western music)

The boys loved playing on our land

and didn't have a care in the world.

And then

everything changed in an instant.

(Apaches chanting)

(ominous music)

- [Wilhelmina] Mama!

Apache!

Run!

Run Willie, run!

Mama!

Apache!

Apache!

- No!

No!

No!

No!

No!

No!

No!

(Augusta sobbing)

- No!

(Augusta sobbing)

- It was like a bad dream

to watch your children,

your two precious boys, snatched in an instant

right before your eyes and nothing you can do to save 'em.

The first thing Phillip did was

ride into town to try to get help

and to report to the sheriff what had happened.

- And what did the sheriff do?

- Not a darn thing.

Told my husband there was nothing he could do.

You're telling me the Sheriff's not

even going to go out and look for them.

I mean,

my boys are just gone?

- He can't raise a posse.

Men won't go into Apache country.

It's too dangerous.

- Well the man's a coward.

Okay?

They're all cowards.

- I love the boys just as much as you,

but you know that if I go out in Apache country on my own,

you will never see me again.

(somber music)

- I'm just so scared that

I'm never going to see my boys again.

(somber music)

(Augusta sobbing)

- Mama.

- I've just been praying for Willie and Herman.

- So have I mom.

We just have to keep praying

for a miracle.

- [Augusta] We prayed for a miracle and that's what we got.

Willie somehow slipped away from the Apache

and a good Samaritan found him and brought him home.

- [Augusta] Willie!

I was so grateful that we got Willie back,

but I couldn't rest until we got Herman back too,

no matter how long it took.

- You know, I can't imagine what it must've been like

for a boy his age.

(intense music)

(Apaches chanting)

(speaking native language)

(western music)

(speaking native language)

(soft western music)

- [Augusta] I prayed and prayed for the good Lord

to protect Herman wherever he was.

- [Bat] You know Augusta,

a lot of folks think that

Herman would've had ample opportunity

to escape after so many years.

Some even think he might've wanted to stay.

- That's just ludicrous.

First of all,

he was only 10 years old

and he didn't even know where he was.

To keep him from running away,

the Apache told him that they'd returned to our farm

and killed us all.

They even showed him some bloody clothes

and told him that they were mine.

The only saving grace in all this is

the woman who took him in,

Laughing Eyes raised Herman as her own son.

(speaking native language)

- [Bat] You seem to have no anger towards

this Apache woman who had Herman.

- Oh, there's plenty of anger to go around.

I felt only gratitude

that there was someone caring for my Herman.

- I understand they gave Herman a new name too.

- Yes, they called him.

- En Da.

(uplifting music)

- [Augusta] Apache for foreigner.

(intense music)

- I hate to bring up a difficult topic.

I do need to ask you about those Apache raids

your son took part in.

- You mean the Apache raids

my son was forced to take part in?

- Well there were several,

but from what I read,

it was the raid on the ranch in Tom Green County, Texas

that really set folks against him.

They seemed to think

he should have taken that opportunity to escape.

- Herman had been with the Apache

for more than six years by then.

He was barely 17.

And like I said before,

as far as he knew, we were all dead.

The Apache were the only family that he had.

(ominous music)

(horse neighing)

(speaking native language)

(door creaking)

(gun firing)

(gun firing)

(gun cocking)

(western music)

(ominous music)

(gun cocking)

- I'm sure you know,

one of those ranch hands was killed on that raid.

- Yes, I do know that,

but my son had nothing to do with it.

- Well he was there, wasn't he?

A lot of folks think that was the night he proved

himself to be a trader to his people.

Some even think he should have hung for it.

- Mr. Masterson, I'm very sorry that a young man had to die.

But when I heard about those raids in the stores

about the blued eyed Apache.

- You were hoping it was Herman and he was still alive.

- Yes.

- Now, if I remember the story correctly,

it wasn't long after that raid

when Herman finally did escaped.

Somehow winded up with the Comanche.

- [Augusta] Well, not escaped exactly.

(speaking native language)

(Herman grunting)

(speaking native language)

(intense music)

(men grunting)

(speaking native language)

(Herman shouting)

(speaking native language)

(man grunting)

(speaking native language)

(Laughing Eyes sobbing)

(speaking native language)

- [Augusta] Herman was simply avenging the murder of the man

who was the only father that he'd known for so many years.

- Forgive me for saying this, Mrs. Lehmann

but you seem to be making a lot of excuses for Herman.

- Well, I wouldn't be much of a mother

if I didn't defend my son, now would I?

None of us can even imagine

what he needed to do just to survive.

- So that's how he ended up with the Comanche.

He was afraid of retaliation by the Apache

for killing the medicine man.

- [Augusta] Yes.

Then one day,

almost nine years after he was taken from us,

we heard about a blue eyed boy

living on the Comanche reservation.

So we asked the authorities to bring the boy to us.

(uplifting music)

- Mrs. Lehmann?

- [Augusta] Yes.

- Ma'am, this is the boy we were told

to bring you from the Comanche reservation.

Is this your son?

(western music)

Is this your son?

- [Wilhelmina] Mama?

(somber music)

- No.

(Augusta crying)

- Wait.

Wait.

- It's okay miss.

You can come closer.

(Wilhelmina gasping)

- Herman.

It is you.

Mama, look.

Look at the scar on his arm.

It's from the hatchet, remember?

When I hit him with the hatchet?

Do you remember Herman?

It's me,

your sister,

Wilhelmina.

Mina.

(uplifting music)

- Herman?

It is you.

(Augusta crying)

- [Bat] So what was it like

to have your son back after all those years?

- Well it was wonderful of course,

but it wasn't easy.

Not for Herman and not for us either.

Herman's memories of his childhood on the ranch

slowly came back to him,

as did his English,

but he wouldn't eat any of the food not cooked.

Wouldn't sleep inside for almost a year.

He insisted on building a teepee next to the house.

There was a sadness,

restlessness for a long time.

But I had my son back.

That was all I cared about.

- Well, Mrs. Lehmann,

it's quite a story.

Certainly a testament to a mother's love and determination.

- I did what I think any mother would do.

- Well, I think maybe you showed more courage than most.

- No. Mr. Masterson.

It was my son who showed real courage.

This was a little boy ripped away from his family

and then forced to survive

in a world that we cannot even imagine.

- [Bat] Herman Lehmann's autobiography,

"Nine Years Among the Indians,"

is still considered one of the most authentic accountants

of Native American life in the Old West.

Eventually Lehmann returned to the Indian territory

because he missed his old Apache and Comanche friends.

But per his request upon his death,

he was buried next to his beloved mother in Texas.

(soft music)

- Herman.

Dinner's ready.