Original subtitles

Well, I can't read no better than you

can, Brown Dog, but that big word ought

to stand for horse race because the numbers

underneath mean three hundred dollars in prize money,

which I will collect this day, rain or

shine.

Brown, you hear me, Brown?

Listen to all that movement hollering, Brown.

Brown, you ain't paying attention.

I fail to see how you're going to

augmentate your reputation when a man's best friend

is laying there out of the wet.

Well, everybody's celebrating, Brown.

Well, I ought to saddle you up for

the race, you big dumb co.

You know, it's getting around appetite anyway.

Come on, Dog, a ride.

The parade's coming, Brown.

How do?

Drink whiskey?

Yeah, just a touch.

Holler whiskey or my name isn't

Burgundy Smith.

Oh, Dave Blasingame, how are you?

Good.

You here for the race?

Yeah.

Yeah?

You running?

Horse runs.

I travel with my feet dangled.

Hey, hello, Dog.

Oh, me, oh, my, my, what are you

doing?

What are you doing there, huh?

That's lots of fine dog.

Yes, sir, one-man dog.

Name's Brown.

He is yours, isn't he?

Well, the other way around, he's kind of

his own dog.

Picked me up to feed him.

I'll take him off your hands if you're

tiring of the expense.

No, thank you.

$10.

Nope.

$50 cash in hand.

Want to drink before you go?

Yeah.

You must be awful flush.

I'm gonna be once the race is over.

Oh, seems I heard that previously.

I'm odds-on to win anyway.

Care to buy a quirk before you go?

All right.

All right, I can't be faulted for trying.

Can I, old dog?

It's his mother.

Hello, Digger.

Burgundy.

Hey, Digger, do you know a Dave Blanson

game?

Yep.

He figured maybe to grab the laurels in

this year's upcoming contest of speed, horse flesh,

and dirt-eating ability.

Can he win?

Win the race?

Ain't unlikely.

Uh-huh.

Now, do you consider Mr. Blanson game, uh,

a skilled manipulator of equine species?

Well, he can ride some, Jack Fentonville.

Digger.

Digger, how'd you like to make 20?

Do I have to push back somebody?

Nothing that morally blemished.

I just want Mr. Blanson game to lose

the way he talked.

He's got a pile of bet on himself.

No, I just prefer seeing him stony.

Just for malicious?

I never spend money for the sake of

malice.

No, I just want to see Mr. Blanson

game in a precarious financial condition because he

has something that I mean to have.

What?

A splendid specimen of canis familiaris.

A dog, Digger.

Now, simmer down.

The sound of the gun run like blazes

to your horses.

Mount up.

Ride around this here block for all your

worth.

Now, you remember.

It's every man for himself and no holds

barred.

Good luck, Dave.

All right, now.

Simmer down.

Get ready.

And may the best man win.

Right in your derby.

Thank you, sir.

Looks like you're on a bad luck.

Thanks.

You seem a bit short of temper out

there.

I'm sure on judgment.

Well, you might have won anyway.

Well, that's some sass fashion.

No, I'm not.

Well.

Busted?

Yeah, I put in there.

Well, I wouldn't take advantage.

He offers a hundred for the dog.

No, I lost him one time.

I got card shopped on Ace High Flush.

I put in there a bust of the

gut getting him back.

That dog takes off again.

He's just going to have to leave on

his own.

125.

No sale?

No sale.

All right.

One on the consummation still devoutly to be

wished.

What's that, 40?

Badly spoken by a lover of the news.

An unsuccessful practitioner of his own line of

enterprise.

Where's your line?

We're buying dogs.

Glorious fourth.

Yukon weekday would make this look like a

Sunday social in the Garden of Eden.

Well, it's early yet.

Come sundown, man foot can't see everybody's in

the street.

Hey.

What do you want with them dogs?

Sled dogs.

A good one will fetch you over a

hundred in Crisco or Seattle.

That brown, he's a lead dog if ever

saw one.

He's just big enough and strong enough to

whip all the others into shape.

That's brown.

That's brown.

He's smart enough to smell rotting ice and

steer clear of avalanche.

He's top dog all the way.

That's him.

Probably could have doused me.

Hey, did I ever tell you about the

Yukon?

Oh, not in the half hour I've known

you.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, I ain't no place else to know

the meaning of it.

Why?

I recall Patsy Dillon's wife, she flying up

along that bucket of water and it turned

to ice in mid-air.

And the coroner's verdict was accidental death caused

by a blow from a blunt instrument.

Oh.

Hey, Birdie.

You ought to come, Birdie.

You ought to come down and take a

look at that fan ant sometime.

Now there's a little piece of hell that

just got busted loose, you see.

It gets hot down there.

Hot?

Yes, sir.

We don't even have any use for cooking

stoves.

We keep the chickens right in the house.

Comes barbecue in time, we just stuff them

up with corn and throw them out in

the yard.

And in about ten minutes, the sun sets,

the feathers off, the corn is cooked, the

chickens are stuffed, the corn is ready for

popping.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Hey, Jimmy.

Did you...

Did you...

know of wind?

Wind, sure.

All right.

Commanders, wind is a thing that moves cattle

all the way across Texas between breakfast and

sundown.

That ain't wind.

It ain't?

No.

When I'm in the Yukon, that's not even

a breeze.

You know, up north, it ain't even called

wind.

What else?

It's documented.

Documented?

Documented.

It's packing along at least two full-blown

glaciers.

You like music?

I love music.

We'll be getting to our genius.

My name is Burgundy Smith.

Wolves tremble when I holler.

The mention of my name strikes fear into

the souls of the most intrepid men.

The home of the rattlesnake is the song

that I sing as I rip and I

roar and I tar!

I live to spread wrath.

I am terrible in my cups and I

am a whore of foot when so...

I...

King.

Well, I am the man who cut the

thunder and I am the height of a

howler glider.

I am still feeding on the flesh and

full brother to the cholera!

Mortals!

Mortals!

I am

leaping death incarnate.

Brown.

Come on, old burgundy duck.

Come on, Bur...

Brown.

Jeff.

Jeff.

Jeff.

Now what do you want, cowboy?

Listen, I want you to turn me loose.

I didn't turn you in, I can't turn

you out.

Sheriff Tom does the turning, he ain't here.

Listen, there's a man out there walking off

with my dog right now.

Brown.

Oh, where are you, dog?

Come on, it's time to go.

He tricked me.

Woke up and found this thing on me.

There's money in that thing.

What is it?

Brown.

Where are you, Brown?

Receipt and bill of sale for one large

brown dog.

I don't want the money, I want my

dog, Brown.

Brown.

Brown.

Burgundy Smith, you're a dead man!

Brown, get away from that man, you hear

me?

Sheriff.

Sheriff.

Now I'm going to bust this up real

wide open, you hear?

And I'm going to bust you wide open.

And I'm going to bust Mr. Smith and

Sheriff open, you hear me?

Yep.

Where in the world have you been?

Out.

I know that, but what am I being

held for?

He won't say nothing except he's waiting for

Sheriff Tom.

All right, you're here, and I'm here, and

I want out of here.

You're here, I want out.

I want to get out, out, out!

Oh, Brown.

You're looking for blood?

All right, you're going to find it all

over me if you don't move faster.

Now, please, dog, I got to be teeth

totally someplace else.

Would you tell me what I'm being held

for?

A man said as to how the new

ball place was held up by you.

A man, was it a man named Burgundy

Smith?

That's right.

He stole my dog.

And the new ball place ain't lost a

dime.

Well then, could you see your way clear

to put that key in that lock and

open that door and let me out of

here?

Is this yours?

Yes, sir, that's mine.

Yes, that is mine.

I've never seen this light before.

What's, uh...

It's a 405 Winchester, Sheriff, and it'll kill

anything as far as you can see it.

Is it for sale?

No, sir, it ain't for sale.

Kill him out of my jurisdiction if possible.

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.

You miserable creature of caprice.

You lousy hound of hellfire.

Are you going to clean my plow, boy?

Hey, you're going to turn me every which

way but loose.

Are you coming?

No, Smith!

Steal my dog, will ya?

Oh, you did it, Brown.

You have surely fixed the Smith wagon.

I paid you 150 gold.

He's mine.

He's mine!

Pull the gun, Burgundy Smith.

You egg-swallering, dog-stealing, chicken-livered bottom

-eater.

I'd sign your tempered and no-account fiddle

-footed.

Now, wait a minute.

I grant you that your peeve is not

entirely without reason.

Now, wait a minute.

Say, uh...

200 for the dog?

I'm going to chomp you, Smith.

You steal my dog, I'm going to feed

you your ears.

I furnished a due bill of sale.

Well, you try and keep him.

I will.

Hold up there, horse.

Wait for old Burgundy.

No, you don't.

You don't.

Come back here, you miserable, mangy, coyote.

Come back here.

Gotcha, Smith.

Howard!

Be careful, Blasingame.

Blasingame.

I'm losing my patience, Dave.

Two for...

Burgundy.

No!

I don't want to sell a dog.

300.

I didn't think so.

Come on.

Come on, dog.

Let's go.

Come on.