North Star

Where is Hudson Saanteek?

You have to leave.

You're not supposed to be here.

Not now.

- Please.

- Oh.

Don't buy yourself trouble.

I want the man that signed the claim.

Nobody has a claim.

This is a sacred place.

Ask him again, Smiley.

- Jesus, mountain's solid gold.

- So where is he?

Just leave us alone.

This is our grandfather.

We're saying our goodbyes.

There. I'll ask you again.

Where is Hudson Saanteek?

- What are you doing here? Get out!

- Hudson!

Don't let him get away.

- Where is he?

- Up there.

Come on, this way.

Kill the son of a b*tch.

Over there.

Yeehaw!

Got him.

- You got him, huh?

- Yeah.

Let's get back to Nome.

I'll buy youse all a nice warm hooker.

Easy.

Papa?

Son.

You've grown.

- You're home.

- Morning, Miss Sarah.

- Good morning.

I'll take her, Miss Sarah.

Thank you.

- Mama.

- What is it?

Bjorn.

It's so good to see you.

Hannah.

Can you believe it?

What is it?

This winter,

you'll have a room of your own.

Close your eyes.

Can you feel how warm? It's gold.

Sold, the Kosoktok mine...

...to this lucky man...

...for $250.

Next up, the North Star Falls.

"Former owner,

Hudson Saanteek, deceased."

The bidding will start at $200.

Do I hear $200?

- Two hundred dollars.

- Two hundred dollars, I have bid.

- Do I hear 225?

- Two-twenty-five.

- Two-twenty-five, the man down front.

- Two-fifty.

Three hundred.

- Three-twenty-five.

- Three-twenty-five bid.

Do I hear $400?

I don't. No...

- Four hundred dollars.

- Four-twenty-five.

Four-fifty.

I have bid 450, a man at the back.

- Going once...

- One thousand.

One thousand dollars is the bid.

Going once.

Going twice.

Sold to Mr. Sean McLennon,

new owner of the North Star claim.

I'm, uh, very sorry about that.

It seems I've edged you out

by just a smidgen.

Mr. Hanson.

Bjorn, wait for us.

Come on, hurry up.

Come on, Jesper.

I want to claim a stake.

You mean, stake a claim?

Yes. That.

- Name?

- Bjorn Svenson.

Where's this claim at?

Ah.

Here.

Proof of citizenship?

- I'm Swedish.

- I'm sorry, Mr., uh, "Svenson."

Unless you're an American citizen,

I have to deny your claim.

What? L... I don't...

- What do you mean?

- According to the Miner's Association...

...foreigners can no longer stake claims

on American land.

But it's my claim.

I've been digging for eight months.

That's why I came here.

I'm sorry, it's not my rule.

Give me my map.

I'm sorry, it is now the property of

the North American Miner's Association.

- Give me my map.

- Mr. Svenson.

Don't you jump my claim.

Bjorn.

Hey. Hey. What's going on here?

They said,

foreigners can't make claims here.

- They stole my map.

- Who?

- Who?

- He.

That's against the law.

We're only following

Miner's Association rules, Lindberg.

If you wanna complain,

you know where to go.

All right, come on.

- Where's McLennon?

- Who?

- The owner, your boss.

- Oh, McLennon.

I haven't seen him.

Where's McLennon?

Yes? Gentlemen, can I help you?

How dare you deny these men

their claims?

Oh, I see, you, um...

You think this is a claims office.

It's true. This is a bar.

This man was denied his claim

because he was not a citizen.

After eight months of digging.

Do you think that's just?

Well, according to the

Miner's Association, yes, it is just.

You are the Miner's Association.

Ah.

Yes, that's true. I am the president.

And as the president,

it is my duty to inform you...

...we are about to a meeting which

will declare all foreign claims...

- ...void and illegal.

- No, no, you can't do that.

You can't do this.

What's the matter with you?

What?

Without their claims these men

will freeze to death on the beaches.

Nobody asked them to come to Nome.

Yeah, yeah.

That's right.

Move, go home.

No.

Have you seen a man freeze to death,

Mr. McLennon?

A frozen man,

or the actual freezing process?

No, I don't.

Because the actual freezing

process is quite something to see.

The body's natural instinct

is to fall asleep...

...but, anyway...

...first, uh, the joints and the tendons

contract into little knots...

...and then your extremities...

...you, know, your nose,

your fingers, your sex organs...

...they get frostbitten and fall off.

Then your breathing shuts off

and you asphyxiate, it's terrible.

Do you expect these men will stand by...

...and watch this happen to their wives

and children, do you?

- I expect these men to go home.

- We ain't going home.

We are up front with you.

May the words of a fellow Scot...

I, of course, was born here.

But a Mr. Macbeth said:

"When our actions do not,

Our fears do make us traitors."

I have no fear to tell the truth...

...which is that I don't care

if you people freeze to death.

Because as far as I am concerned,

you're trespassing.

This is disgusting.

Damn you. How dare you?

You are stealing from the people

to whom this country belongs.

So you see? It's either your lives or ours.

Well, that's not a hard decision to make,

is it?

- You son of a b*tch.

- Reno. Smiley.

No.

If you going to take my claim,

you'll have to kill me like all the others.

And why not do it now?

Come on, get them out of here.

Get these guys out.

Get him.

Get out, now.

Hey, you, get up.

- Come on. You heard me.

- No, I didn't.

Oh, ho!

Oh, ha, ha.

Here we go.

Goddamn. Goddamn, I'll kill you.

- Hey, hey, you.

- Get him out of here.

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