Cimarron

- There they are. Plenty of room for them.

- Cut that out, Kid, and get out.

Hey, isn't that young Mr. Cravat, there?

By golly, it is.

Over here. What do you say?

I know what will fetch him.

Watch his ears perk up

when he hears the old Travelers.

Let's give it to him.

High rickety! Well, you old...

Hello, buddy. Old Buck.

Well, hate to be making it into a firefight.

If it ain't the old honker, himself.

Got yourself hitched?

Yeah, I've got a wife and son,

four years old now.

Aye, this is like a Fourth of July

celebration on Judgment Day.

- Beats all Creation.

- Say, where are you heading for, Yancey?

- I'm cutting dirt for the Little Bear Creek.

- That's the spot, believe me.

Yes, indeed.

You're Yancey Cravat, aren't you?

- And you?

- Lee, Dixie Lee.

- Indeed.

- Going for a town site?

No, I'm going for a quarter-section ranch

out at the Little Bear Creek.

That's funny,

I'm heading for Little Bear, too.

Well, I know just the piece of land I want.

It's deep in the gully

and a lot of scrub over.

Ready, aim...

- You near flummoxed. Are you hurt?

- No, I'm all right.

But his legs are broken.

I heard them crack.

Please shoot him.

And in no time, no time, mind you...

they'd snapped up every piece of land

that was worth having...

and by nightfall...

By nightfall there wasn't an acre.

Think of it, Louis, not an acre

left out of that two million.

The only spot I wanted

was the ground we stood on, and...

Well, the girl got that quarter section.

Yancey Cravat...

you let that hussy in black tights

have your claim...

after having been gone a whole month,

away from your wife and child.

- Now, Mama...

- Don't you "Mama" me.

Isaiah, go on with your fanning.

Yes, Mrs. Venable.

- Well?

- The land was hers by right of claim.

I don't believe a word of it.

Why did you let her keep your land?

Itd been a man, I could have shot him.

You can't shoot a woman.

- Why not?

- Oh, Felice.

I don't suppose you'd recognize the lady

without her black tights.

"Let there be no strife

between thee and me."

That's from the Old Testament, Dabney.

You may not recognize that.

It's all tommyrot.

Perhaps now, Yancey,

you'll stop this ranting up and down...

and be content to settle down

here in Wichita...

run that newspaper of yours, and conduct

your law practice, such as it is...

with no more talk of Oklahoma.

Don't you realize

that this is a new empire?

Why, folks, there's never been

anything like it since Creation.

Creation? That took six days,

this was done in one.

History made in an hour. Why, it's like

a miracle out of the Old Testament.

- Don't be blasphemous, Yancey.

- Like a miracle out of the Old Testament.

Cities of ten thousands,

springing up overnight.

Well, I'm going back.

I'm going back and help build a new state

out of the last frontier of the nation...

and it'll be a state someday,

mark my words.

Yancey, you're not leaving me again?

Leaving you, my beauty?

Not by a long shot, sugar.

This time you and Cim

are coming with me.

Louis Venable, can you sit there

and see your daughter dragged off...

to be scalped among savages?

- But I want to go, Mama.

- You don't know what you want.

We start Monday week,

fresh and fair, with two freighters.

One with a printing outfit

and the other with the household goods.

- Why, we can make it in nine days.

- I forbid it.

You're going to stay here with your father

and mother in decent civilization.

- I've heard enough.

- I'm going with him, Mother.

That's it, honey.

Why, we've had enough of this Wichita.

We're going out to a brand new two-fisted,

rip snorting country...

full of Indians, rattlesnakes, gun-toters,

and desperados.

- Isaiah, I declare.

- Miserable brat, you Boon boy.

Master Yancey.

Take me with you to Oklahomy.

Please take me, Master Yancey.

You ain't going to no Oklahomy.

You're going to take a bath.

- Mammy, I want to...

- Get out. Get out.

Well, I'll go see

about those freighters, huh?

Come on here, Cim. Atta boy.

My son, you're going to see more Indians

then you ever thought of.

I never heard of such a thing.

What do you mean, Sabra?

You're not going.

Why a Venable should ever

marry such a man, a buffalo hunter.

- Quite right.

- Annie.

A quart of whiskey a day,

living in that dreadful Cimarron country.

- What is Cimarron?

- Savage, Cousin Hewitt.

It means wild, unruly.

Yancey's idea of a name for the boy, Cim.

You don't like anything Yancey does.

You never have.

And that newspaper of his,

Wichita Wigwam.

Editorials about Indian's rights.

You might think Yancey

was an Indian himself.

Who knows?

Some half-breeds are no darker.

- Don't you dare say that.

- I heard he killed a man.

I won't listen to you any longer.

I don't care about Yancey's past.

I married him because I loved him,

and I'm going with him.

- Sabra.

- I never heard of such a thing.

Yancey, where's that iron skillet?

I can't find it anywhere.

- Right here, sugar, with the stove.

- Why didn't you tell me?

Cim, honey, get up off the ground.

It's too damp.

You know, I think we ought to

get out that old rag rug...

and put it down here for supper.

Right you are, honey.

I think Aunt Cassandra must have put

the andirons in here, sugar.

- High rickety!

- Isaiah!

Please let me stay,

Master Yancey, Miss Sabra.

I'll help, I'll work, I'll do everything.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes