Original subtitles

Whoa.

You're the blacksmith.

Yes, sir.

You really got some outfit here, don't you?

The starboard horse got a loose shoe on his portside aft.

Your what's got a what?

Ah. His left hind foot.

The shoe is loose. Now, you fix it, I'll be obliged.

Uh, I'd appreciate it too if you'd feed and water them while you're at it.

I'll be in the saloon.

You don't mean this buffalo here now, do you?

If you please.

He'll eat anything.

I know. That's what I'm afraid of.

Here you are.

Ah, that bison gives you any trouble,

just prod him in the hump with that harpoon.

His name is Shag. Mr. Shag.

What's your name?

Sligo. Captain Aron Sligo.

Drink, mate.

What'd he say his name is?

Sligo.

Sounds like something you scratch.

Sligo is the name of a county in Ireland.

As well as the name of my paternal forefathers.

What'd he say?

Says he's got four fathers.

Now, which of you said that?

I did.

Any objections?

I'd best pay you now.

Two bits for the drink.

Have you change for a $50 bill? It's my smallest.

I'm sorry, but when I sold my ship in San Francisco,

I took large bills mostly,

and then I run out of the small ones.

No change for a 50.

Day or two, we'll be jumping with trail hands when the south herds get in.

But I ain't seen a $50 bill since last spring.

Drink's on me, stranger.

No hard feelings?

I'll owe you a quarter.

Oh, come on. Give me your hand.

Is that what you had in mind?

Blacksmith, summon the sheriff.

Ain't no law here, and there ain't no jailhouse neither.

- This is Hoxie. - Oh, I was afraid of that.

Here. Grab a leg.

Are you gonna tote this old boy with ya?

And the others. To the nearest law north of here.

Well, that's all the way to Dodge City.

Fine. Fine. That's where I'm headed.

Get ahold there now.

Heave... hup!

You know, sir, you go to totin' these old boys bellies-down like this,

40 mile up the road, they're gonna be dead by the time you get there.

Yeah.

The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.

Will you lookie there?

Newly, you and Manning take the southeast corner here.

Stay between Bucklin and the river.

And, Burke, you and Abe Kelton take the southwest.

Either of you need me, I'll be between Kingsdown and the line.

Matthew, you ain't gonna believe this,

but they's a buffalo out yonder in the Dodge street,

and that ain't all neither.

They's three fellers hogtied on top of a wagon.

Good lord.

Now, hold on a minute. Just a minute.

Get out of here!

No need for alarm, folks.

Mr. Shag, he just can't stay away from pretty ladies.

Come on. Shag, come here.

Come here, Shag.

- Come... Come on. - Come on. We better look into that.

Come on. Shag.

Come on.

All right, now who in thunder are you?

Captain Sligo is my name.

Captain Slig...

Well, what... These men been gunshot, or what?

No, I don't use a gun. I drubbed them when they tried to rob me.

Where'd this happen?

At Hoxie Station, ma'am.

Some distance to the south.

Do you mean to tell me that you packed these men 40 miles like this?

Well, it's the least I could do in the interest of law and order.

They could have died.

No, that'd be too much to hope for.

What's wrong with these men?

They've been hurt, Matt. They need some help.

What's happened to 'em?

Well, you might say I did.

They jumped me at Hoxie Station after my money.

What do you wanna do with 'em, Doc?

Well, you figuring on jailing 'em?

Might as well for the time being.

All right, I can take care of 'em over there.

All right, give me a hand here, boys.

Say, you got an old bald-noggin',

runny-mouth, spavin-shanked friend,

a patch over one eye, going by the name of Watney?

I'd say you got him about right.

My name's Sligo.

Well, of course it is.

After listening to his slackjaw all week,

I feel like I know about twice as much about you as I'll ever have any need for.

I take it you didn't make my bosun's acquaintance while havin' him locked up.

Locked? Oh, no.

No, me and old Watney got acquainted whilst building a fence

out at the Widow Burney's place.

See, her place is right next door to yours.

Well, wait, wait, wait one minute.

Mr. Watney is supposed to be building us a ranch house.

Well, that's what he says, but if that there thing's any part of a ranch house,

I'm a... two-footed angleworm.

What it is is a big old tall

scraggledy-lookin' maypole kind of a thing.

He's... He's built himself a masthead, is all.

He said he would. Right on the hundredth meridian.

No, no. It's built right on the ground.

The hundredth meridian is an imaginary line. You can't see it.

That's why I came here in the first place.

Always said I'd build my house on the hundredth meridian.

As far as I could get from both oceans.

Well, if you can't see it, how in the tarnation do you know it's there?

It's the hundredth degree of longitude west.

It has to go right by the Widow Burney's front porch.

Now, on the final tack...

Northeast, quarter east.

Ho!

Ow, it can't be.

It is!

It's Captain Sligo, mates!

Ahoy!

Thar she blows!

Hang easy, Mr. Watney. Don't fall off.

Break your back and my heart.

- Captain! Captain! - You old fool!

Swinging around up there like a gooney bird.

I knew you'd be along today.

I proper knew it all the time.

Oh, sure, you did.

It's what I wrote you in my last letter.

Might have been right... Not six hours off me estimate

and right on course.

Well, I knew you would. Here, Captain.

Captain, I dropped our anchor right on the 100th.

Look what you did here.

It's beautiful, man. Beautiful.

Oh, I haven't had time to do all I hoped for, sir.

A few setbacks, mind you.

Barnacles. And a real bad wind out of the west.

Oh. The Widow Burney's.

Aye aye, Captain.

First name's Josephine. She got two kids, she has.

Oh, sad thing.

Um... good looking woman, is she?

Well... Oh, she's got a mouth on her

which would powder the new sap from a sugar maple tree.

Um, how old do you say she is?

Well, 60 if she's a day.

I wouldn't even advise you to take a look, sir.

Bad as that, eh?

Oh, that bad, Captain.

Well, the fact is, Mr. Watney,

I have got to talk to her about that thing she's building there.

She can't be any uglier than her board fence.

Oh, wait'll you see her, sir. You wouldn't believe it.

You wouldn't...

Oh, here she comes. Here she comes now, sir.

Huh. Well, come along, Mr. Watney.

Let's welcome her aboard.

Captain?

Captain.

Bosun, it appears as though you need a closer look at the lady.

Oh, I've had me as close a look as I could wish for, sir.

You're a lyin' swab, Mr. Watney,

and you need a taste of ship's discipline.

Now, come along.

Are you the famous Captain Sligo?

At your service, madam.

And you, I take it, are the renowned Widow Burney.

May I say that your husband's unfortunate demise...

Thank you, kindly, but I would like to know, without further pleasantry,

just what you intend to do about that monstrous abomination of a thing.

The mast? Well, the first thing I'm going to do

is convene a captain's mast.

- Mr. Watney, step forward. - Aye, sir.

Captain's mast... You mean he built that thing for you?

Silence, madam!

What?

Just who in the name of heaven do you think you are?

Did you estimate this wo... this lady's age

at "60 if she's a day"?

- Aye, sir. - What?

And did you say her mouth would powder maple sap?

- Why, you old hoot owl. - Aye, sir.

And did you state that she was even uglier than her board fence?

No, sir. I didn't. You did, sir.

- I did not! - Begging your pardon, Captain.

All right, if I did, you compelled the comparison, did you not?

- Aye, sir. - Well.

Mr. Watney, you will confine yourself to quarters on bread and water

until eight bells.

Aye, sir.

The poor man.

Well, it has to be done...

if we're going to run a tight ship here.

Way he talked about you and couldn't wait till you got here,

and you treat him like that?

That's none of your affair, Tim.

Is so, Ma. Mr. Watney's a friend of mine.

He didn't mean any harm, Captain Sli.

Sligo.

You didn't have to do that on my account, Captain.

And he certainly is entitled...

Entitled to his opinion of my age and appearance.

Don't you like Mr. Watney?

Like him?

Laddie, Mr. Watney's my dearest friend in life.

He lost his eye saving me from a whaleboat

in which I lay stunned while a sperm whale was smashing that whaleboat

and most of my long bones into kindling.

Using his flukes like a broadsword.

What's his flukes, Captain Sligo?

His tail. Horizontal tail is peculiar to whales.

Now, what sticks out on either side, that's a fluke.

So is your little tail about Mr. Watney, if I'm any judge.

And if you're a whaling captain, why aren't you out whaling?

Well...

they found oil in Pennsylvania, for one thing.

I like him.

Me too. Better than the others.

A lot better.

Harpoon gun, and I began to feel sorry for the whales.

That's when I pointed my sea bag east.

Always did figure to spend half my days on the sea,

and the other half on the good earth.

That seemed the only way to give each one equal benefits.

Your modesty is almost as capacious as your mouth.

How come you picked here, Captain Sligo?

Geographical center of the nation, Tim.

You gotta talk plainer-er, Captain,

if you're gonna court my ma.

Anne Burney!

Well, everybody 'round Dodge tries to court you,

but me and Tim don't like any of 'em.

You aren't married, are ya, Captain?

Uh, I'm perfectly free to court your mother.

I'll hear no more of it.

And I'll thank you, Captain, to stop putting such ideas in my children's heads.

I did nothing of the sort, madam.

I'd barely got the idea of courtin' ya set in my own mind.

Never mind theirs.

Well, you can get it unset right now.

And you still haven't explained why, with 800 acres to build on,

you and your bosun have to pick this spot

to put your eyesore

as close to my front door as you can get it.

Well, ma'am, this is apparently the only point on my property

that's crossed by the hundredth meridian.

And I told Mr. Watney when I sent him on ahead

to build no other place but smack dab on the old hundredth.

I've never heard of anything more ridiculous in my life.

Not at all, ma'am. Never crossed old hundred yet it wasn't good luck.

But, uh, it is too bad they had to build that right there.

Now, since you don't care about the meridian,

have you ever thought of maybe moving your house someplace else?

Move my house?

You have the arrogance to propose that I move my house?!

It's only a suggestion, ma'am.

When I make a proposal, there'll be no mistaking it.

I find your presence as oppressive as that eyesore.

A crow's nest is what it is, ma'am.

You can see storms coming, tornadoes, hostile forces

long, long before they get here.

Keep an eye out for the livestock.

You haven't got any, except that buffalo.

Bison.

And there's a man coming from Texas at this very minute with my herd.

Now, Mr. Watney got 'em real cheap, he tells me.

Captain Sligo,

that crow's nest is dangerous and useless,

and you will either remove it or I will take drastic measures.

Mrs. Burney.

Any idea what that mast means to an old sea dog like Mr. Watney?

He's getting old.

Keeping watch will give him a sense of pride and responsibility.

He built that masthead

to keep a weather eye on his dreams and his memories,

to make believe he sees whales instead of bison,

white caps instead of jimson weed.

And you tell me to tell him to tear that masthead down.

No, ma'am. I'll be danged if I do.

If you don't,

I'll dam the creek above my house and shut off your entire water supply,

and I have every right to do it.

Well...

It appears as if I'm danged if I do...

and I'm damned if I don't.

Aw, Ma, that crow's nest ain't hurtin' nothin'.

All he wants is a nest for his Watney, Ma.

Excuse me, ma'am.

If you could help us. We're looking for a man named Watney.

Aye, you come to the right place.

- Who might you be? - Captain Aron Sligo.

That's the name, all right.

Captain Sligo,

my name's Leonard, from Texas.

This here's Mr. Tanner.

We got 500 head of cattle for you.

Mr. Watney said you ordered it.

Fine. Fine, fine. You got 'em where?

Well, just outside of Hoxie Station.

That was the deal. $7 a head below the line, you drive 'em up yourself.

What line you men talking about?

This is Mrs. Burney. She's my neighbor.

Ma'am.

You mean the Kansas border line.

$7 a head is certainly a very cheap price.

Now, now, now, now, Mrs. Burney,

these men are simply being courteous enough

to offer me a savings if I choose to take it.

I'm just trying to understand.

Mrs. Burney, if you please.

I am perfectly capable of handling my own business.

Especially since it is clearly a man's business and not a woman's.

Well, I'm sure you boys'd be liking a drink now, after your long ride.

I've got something in my wagon.

Jamaica rum, gentlemen.

Take the hide off a whale's hump.

Why, thank you kindly, Captain, but we gotta get going.

I tell you what.

You show up at Hoxie Station with that money tomorrow morning

and we'll buy you the drink.

So be it. Pleasure, gentlemen.

Ma, you forgot to be neighborly,

not inviting the captain and Mr. Watney to dinner tonight.

Well, uh, nobody's perfect.

- Ma. - Please, Ma?

Of course.

He's invited.

I will ring the bell loudly.

Come on, children. You have chores to do.

I accept, madam.

Mr. Watney respectfully declines.

He has first watch.

Lovely woman.

But unfortunately possessed by the Devil.

Mr. Watney.

What other kinds of whales are there besides a sperm?

Well, there's the right whale, the humpbacked whale,

the razor-backed whale, the sulfur-bottom whale.

Now, those are the big ones.

And that leaves the grampus, the thrasher, the killer.

And a sperm whale's worse than the killer?

Oh, much worse.

They've been known to ram and sink full-size sailin' vessels.

The head of the sperm whale is the world's greatest battering ram,

and his tail the world's most dreadful whip.

That's what happened to Mr. Watney's eye, Captain Sligo?

Mm. Six other men in that whaleboat were killed outright or drowned.

I would have been drowned myself

if Mr. Watney hadn't dived down and pulled me up.

I think we ought to let the Captain eat his dessert.

Those men today,

doesn't it seem suspicious that they offered them to you

for only $7 a head?

Not at all, ma'am.

They're busy men dealing with thousands of head of cattle every day.

Now, my 500 head just wasn't worth their while driving up,

so the savings is mine.

They didn't look all that prosperous to me.

Dirty shirts and...

I judge a man by his demeanor, not by his small clothes.

Do you have to raise your voice?

As long as you continue raising my hackles.

Has it occurred to you that I might know something about cattle dealing in Kansas?

Something you might not know having just arrived this afternoon?

Something that might explain why they're willing to give you such a bargain?

You miss the point, madam.

I'm sure you're stuffed tight as a pork sausage with essential knowledge.

Just as I claim my sovereign right to take on knowledge

as I see fit.

And not have it rammed down my throat like poor Adam's apple.

Can't we talk about whales?

It seems that's all we can talk about, Tim.

All that Captain Sligo knows or wants to know.

Blast it, woman. I will not be patronized nor mocked.

Captain Sligo, stop hollerin' at Ma

or she'll womp you with a skillet.

If you will just refrain from profanity,

I will be happy to drop the subject of what's wrong with the cattle you bought.

Fine with me.

Now, if you could just arrange to lose your broomstick.

Do you wish to leave now or be civil?

Now, by your imperial leave.

No. You promised to tell us a story.

A nice bedtime story about daddy whales.

Hmm. A daddy sperm whale...

Ah, the daddy sperm whale.

Starts out as a young bull whale,

swimming in a herd made up entirely of young bull whales.

Now, when he reaches his growth,

he sets about rounding up a herd of female whales.

This herd is called a harem.

The daddy whale is absolute lord and master... school master...

Over this harem of females.

You mean he captures them because he's bigger?

Oh, females are no more than one third the bulk and magnificence

of the full-grown bull whale.

So when he spouts, they listen.

But they're females, after all,

and pretty soon the daddy whale

gets weary of all the bickering and back-biting going on among the females,

and when he's had all he can take,

he flukes them a "Fare thee well, ladies,"

and quits the females forever.

And swims thenceforth in solitary splendor alone

among the watery deeps and ramparts of the great ocean world.

That was lovely.

Wasn't that lovely, children?

And now it's bedtime.

Say goodnight.

Good night, Captain. Thank you.

Good night.

Good night, Captain Sligo.

Good night, my darlin's.

Yes, good night, Captain.

Well.

You're still here.

Is there anything else?

In fact, there is.

Port wine. The finest in the world.

Will you join me?

Thank you, no.

My daddy always said, "Good for humility to have a drop now and then."

Saves you from the pride of total abstinence.

All right.

May I call you... Josephine?

You may not.

So be it.

Do you hate all men?

Or only the best of us?

I do not hate man or beast.

But I do detest male conceit or presumption in any form.

You have mistaken me, madam.

It is not conceit but pride,

and not presumption... but willingness.

You are willing to be only one thing.

Absolute lord and master.

Like the daddy whale in your story.

When you spout, I must listen.

I didn't invent natural law.

Nor even vote on it.

Then stop trying to enforce it.

You come out to my farm today and into my house

as if you're going to move right in and set everything to rights.

Beginning with me.

And who was I to question or complain?

After all, everyone knows a two-year widow with two children

can't wait to give herself to the first male beast

who comes along to take pity on her.

But I had no such intention.

You'd refuse to court me... if I'd let you?

Well, ma'am,

a man would have to be a fool to do that.

A fine looking woman like you, prime of her years,

- That's enough. - First two of her children

- big enough to bear a hand... - Close enough, too.

I said that's enough!

Mrs. Burney, I'm a simple, direct man.

When a thing has to be done, trim your sheets and do it, I always say.

I'm quite content trimming my own sheets.

You find me unattractive, madam?

I find you... unnecessary.

And now, goodnight, Captain.

Goodnight, Mrs. Burney.

And the masthead stays where it is.

Then I'll dam the creek.

I swear it.

Swear it? You've stopped the flow of everything else around here.

Why spare the creek...

any more than you spared yourself?!

Of all the insufferable, overbearing, bullheaded...

Let him buy those Texas cattle.

Let him find out for himself.

I count 500 head.

I count me 480 is all.

Mr. Watney doesn't miscount.

Well, I tell ya what, Captain.

There's 25 or 30 extra head down at the drover's camp.

We'll throw 'em in for fair measure. How's that?

Fair enough.

500 head, that's, uh, $3,500.

Well, thank you, Captain. It's a pleasure doing business with you.

There's your bill of sale.

Now all you gotta do is pay off your drovers.

And, when you're done with 'em,

just sit back and watch them doggies eat themselves fat.

They tried to short-count us, is what they did.

Failed, mind ya.

But still look a bit too satisfied for my taste.

I took notice.

There may be a few less down at that drover's camp,

but the price is certainly fair enough

to make up for any petty cheating if that's the case, huh?

Oh, aye, sir.

You mean to tell me they moved the quarantine line again?

Since last summer.

Twice since then.

Used to be nine, ten mile north of Dodge.

Now it's 15 south?

It don't make sense.

Here it is here, Bender. Read it yourself.

I don't make the laws, Bender.

I know you don't, Marshal.

Well, I'll just have to drive 'em west to Colorado territory and then up north.

- Long as you stay south of the line. - Right.

Afternoon, Marshal.

Captain Sligo. Mr. Watney.

I just got stopped by one of your outriders.

He tells me I can't take my new herd of cattle any farther north.

Now, he must be an imbecile or a practical joker,

and it's a bad day for either.

Are they Texas cattle?

Yeah, bought 'em from a dealer at Hoxie Station.

Well, then I'm afraid what my deputy told you is right, Captain.

See, those cattle have splenic fever.

It's otherwise known as Texas or Spanish fever.

They look perfectly healthy to me.

They are, Captain. Texas steers are immune to this type of tick.

Kansas steers seem to roll over and die on you, though.

Ah. Well, then all I've got to do is keep Kansas steers away from my steers.

Well, I'm sorry, Captain, but it doesn't work that way.

You see, the state legislature forms a quarantine line.

There's no exceptions.

You mean I can't take my own cattle through to my own land?

That's right, sir.

That's outrageous to law and civil liberty.

There's nothing right about it.

Well, right or wrong,

I'm afraid you won't be able to take those cattle to your place.

You can take 'em west, east, or south, but not north.

You hear that, Mr. Watney?

That's the law of the land talking.

Pirates defraud us, and now the law's making sure that we stay defrauded.

You weren't defrauded, Captain.

Those cattle dealers didn't do anything that wasn't legal.

And who did? The ticks?

No, I'm afraid you got exactly what you paid for.

Just too bad that nobody warned you about buying south of the line.

Somebody tried to,

but she just couldn't overcome her natural duplicity long enough

to say the thing straight out.

And, as usual, there is no legal remedy,

so we'll have to try to invent one for ourselves.

You mean for the Widow Burney or was it for them ticks?

Perhaps for both, Mr. Watney. Come along.

That's better.

I think, Mr. Watney, I'll deal with this alone.

You'd best return to the ranch.

Alone? Captain, you want my opinion...

I consider this to be a personal matter.

You will go directly home, Mr. Watney.

Aye. Aye, Captain.

Do you mind if I water me horse first?

Come.

Evening, boys.

My name is Sligo. Captain Sligo.

How would you like for the drinks to be on me the entire evening?

Well, sure thing, Captain, as long as it don't mean hurtin' and bleedin'.

No, no, no.

In a couple of minutes, you go into the saloon, up to the bar,

two or three at a time,

and, uh, just act generally as if you know me.

Any question about money, you send the barkeep over to me.

Well, you got a deal.

- Yes, good deal. - Couple of minutes, huh?

Okay, if you're not gonna drink, I am.

- Ha. - Three eights.

Evening, gentlemen.

You know what?

I've got some steers and fever ticks to sell you, Mr. Leonard.

$7 a head.

No, no.

You can have the ticks for nothing. Now how about it?

You may be tough, Captain Sligo, but you ain't that tough.

- Evening, Captain. - Evening, boys.

- What'll it be, boys? - Whiskey...

My time is very short tonight, gentlemen,

so I'm afraid I'll have to add 25 cents a head to the price

at irregular intervals during our negotiations.

As of this moment, it's seven and a quarter a head.

- Hi, Captain. - Hi.

Are those two...

Them fellas over there said the drinks was on you.

- Is that right? - It's an old habit of mine, bartender.

A man works for me, I pay for his liquor.

There'll be a half dozen more drifting in.

Yeah, that's enough to get you started.

You bet.

That's $7.50 a head, gentlemen.

And remember, no charge for the ticks.

Hello, Captain Sligo.

Captain.

Listen, that was a legal and binding deal, Sligo.

7.75, gentlemen.

You know this is, uh, out and out robbery, don't ya?

$8 a head.

And on the next increase, we start a surcharge on the ticks.

All right.

All right, you got a deal.

You can't go wrong on Texas steers, gentlemen.

Where's the herd, Captain?

The same dry gulch I bought them in.

Just pay off your drovers, gentlemen,

and then sit back and watch those ticks eat those doggies right into the ground.

Good night.

Well, thank you, gentlemen.

Uh, if those two blaggarts should try to follow me,

just kindly knock them down, huh?

Uh, yes, sir, Captain.

That should take care of the balance of the evening.

- Right. - Goodnight.

- Good night. - Good night, Captain.

Night, Captain.

Uh, good night.

Hey, sailor.

You know, me and Tanner got to thinking

that maybe you're missin' your whaling days,

and so first Tanner's gonna whale you... and then I'm gonna whale you.

Mr. Shag.

Well...

what if Mr. Watney brings you to mate, Mr. Shag?

You doubt it?

Can't say as I blame you.

Hard to find bison these days, the way they're being slaughtered.

Same as they did the whale.

Cries to heaven for vengeance.

Oh, I know, I know.

You don't really want a mate any more than other male beast in his right mind,

but there's your duty to the species, Mr. Shag.

To get sons wants a female, and vice versa.

Ah, but it's a terrible ordeal, Mr. Shag.

Ah, but the good Lord never said it would be easy.

Ha.

Speak of the Lord and the Devil bends sail.

The Widow Burney affrighting the morning.

She knew all about those ticks, Mr. Shag.

Ah, but then women are not as you and me.

Good morning, Captain.

Where are the cattle you bought?

Good morning, Mrs. Burney.

Where is the herd?

The herd...

is infected with odious little vermin with fevers from Texas.

I declined to take possession.

Tick fever.

If you knew, why didn't ya tell me?

I didn't know.

I guessed.

That's why they made you come get them.

But I returned the favor and turned a fair profit.

Didn't Mr. Watney come back with you?

No, ma'am, Mr. Watney left somewhat before I did.

If you'll notice,

I haven't started the dam.

Well, the threat is almost as effective as the fact.

In some ways, more so.

You can use the threat over and over again.

But once you built the dam, then you'd have to poison the well...

I'm trying to be nice.

Uh, uh, uh. Here come the children, bless them.

What you need is about ten more.

How dare you tell me what I need?

Ten sons in eight years. Keep you fit.

Fit? For what? Early burial?

Fit to live with. You got an excessive amount of bile, the way you are.

I've got to keep you standing the full jib

or you'll have me down by the bow before I clear my roarin' forties.

Will you please stop talking in that intimate manner?

I don't want ten sons, least of all your ten sons.

And I'm not a brood mare.

Little fleshed up.

But a handsome beam and a fulsome hammock is what counts, right, Mr. Shag?

I require ten sons.

You throw in Tim, that leaves us nine.

Give you the full eight years for nine instead of ten.

Now, that leaves you a full 15 months

to lie around fallow, doin' nothin' at all.

Why, you monstrous ham-headed oaf.

I'd die before I married you.

And I predict we'll be married before this corn is scupper high.

That corn?

That corn will never grow.

Oh, that's a terrible thing to say to a man,

putting a curse on his corn.

Of course it'll grow!

Oh, will it?

All right, you loudmouth bully.

I'll marry you.

The day that corn is shoe-top high.

Oh, I tell ya, Mr. Shag,

I've got my flag on her now.

She's right about the corn, Captain Sligo.

It will never grow.

Not the way you planted it.

Mm.

If it doesn't grow, that mean you never gonna get married?

Captain Sligo?

I will not be brow beaten into marrying you.

I can't stand you!

Or your bosun or your bison!

I can't stand your foolish vanity.

Or your roaring forties.

And I'd start praying if I were you.

To learn to humble yourself before the Almighty

gets sick of the sound of your pride

and sends down a pain big enough to humble you!

A sorrow sad enough to drive you to your knees!

Captain, Captain! It's Mr. Watney.

Oh!

Oh, Captain.

A pain big enough to humble me, I believe you said.

A sorrow sad enough to drive me to my knees.

Oh, I have it, madam.

I have it.

I didn't mean it, Captain.

I'm... I'm sorry for what I said.

I'll have them for this.

I'll find them, Mr. Watney.

And I'll... I'll number all their bones.

Are you trying to tell me that Captain Sligo's blaming you

for what happened to Mr. Watney?

No, thanks, Sam. That's fine.

No.

If he does, he has a perfect right to.

If he does, he's out of his mind.

Oh, I don't know, Kitty.

I was threatening to have the crow's nest torn down.

Which made Mr. Watney feel bad, and so he got...

Oh, come on, now, Jo, really.

I've heard all about the crow's nest and that wild buffalo.

Bison.

Oh, excuse me. Bison.

You're even beginning to think and talk like him.

So are the children.

They just love the captain.

He is actually, Kitty, quite an extraordinary man.

You mean aside from being crazy.

He's not crazy. He's just a man out of his proper place, his element.

The sea.

You suggesting he go back to the sea?

No.

Not till he's established his family.

He wants ten sons.

Ten sons.

Ten children won't do.

That's right.

And when you hear him talk about it, Kitty, you know how much he wants them.

He's convinced you, Josephine?

Yes, I guess he has.

That he should have them, not me.

You sure he hasn't convinced you about you?

Throwing in Tim, that's nine sons in eight years.

That's the schedule.

Fifteen months off lying barren, or whatever,

but a full jib the rest of the time.

And you still say he isn't crazy.

Hmm.

- Sam, whiskey. - There you are, Captain.

Madam, Mr. Watney's life was saved by Dr. Adams.

Thank God.

I have urgent business in the south,

but I wish to ask Mrs. Burney if she'll be so good

as to keep all references to my cattle dealings,

including names of principals and so on, strictly to herself.

Especially from an acting deputy marshal with a canvas-backed,

wide-brimmed bilge bucket for a hat.

His name's Festus Hagen.

I'm sorry, Captain, but I'll make no such promise to you.

You will make it. Why wouldn't you? It's none of your business.

- Yes, it is. - How so?

Well, I'd rather not say just now.

Ah.

Captain.

You mustn't go after those men alone.

Instead of repeating yourself, I suggest you make arrangements

with a dress maker here in Dodge

to be measured for a wedding gown.

I'd rather be measured for my winding sheet.

Fine. As long as it has the look of a flying jib full of wind.

That corn'll never grow anyway.

Miss Kitty, was that there the captain?

That's him.

Well, I wanted to talk to him about them bushwhackers.

He's headed for Hoxie Station.

Probably to get himself killed. You better get Matt.

I'll do just that.

On your feet, you blackguards.

I suppose you'll be wanting a written complaint on this too, Marshal.

Well, Captain, you're just gonna have to learn to let the law handle your problems.

Uh-huh.

Matt Dillon in charge of bad bellies, fever ticks, rustlers,

and Sligo in charge

of whales, mastheads, widows, and dam sites.

Oh, I'd say that corn is gonna have to grow to save face for all here, though.

- Corn? - What are you talking about?

Ten sons.

Give or take one there already.

Uh, might make it 11, though, huh?

Ain't shoe-top yet, Captain.

Ma's comin'. Like you told us to.

But she ain't in good kettle, Captain Sligo.

The word is fettle, and it depends on whose shoe tops.

- Ahoy! - Ah, here she comes now.

Ahoy, Captain.

Madam, I have a thing to show you.

I can't believe it.

I trust you haven't forgotten your promise, madam.

But I said shoe-top high.

Well, in a week's time, shoe-top high and more.

Just in time for our wedding.

But we aren't even engaged yet.

Children.

Both: Aw, Ma.

Thank you, children.

Come on.

Just about time for that long-delayed trip

to the Dodge dressmaker.

Up, madam. Up.

I can't go like this.

What about the children? The livestock?

All is arranged for by Mr. Watney.

Captain Sligo, did you transplant some sweet corn from my patch?

Nope, he didn't.

But Tim and me, we planted Captain's corn right.

Well?

Well, I don't know, I'm sure.

It certainly isn't my idea of how to get engaged.

Madam, are you going to be my wife a week hence,

or do I have to flog you into it?

You're not being very romantic.

- Woman... - Yes.

Yes, what?

I'll... I'll marry you.

With all the jibs flying.

- Bye! - Goodbye, Captain.

- Goodbye! - Bye-bye.

Hey.

Oh.

What is it now?

I just happened to think,

"What if the first nine were girls?"

Girls!

Great St. Elmo's flickerin' fire, madam.

Abandon the thought. Sons, madam. Nine in a row.

Do you think I want to spend the rest of my days

doing nothing but getting babies?