Allegheny Uprising

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-Captain Swanson of His Majesty's forces.

-Lieutenant Fouchier.

Fifteen English prisoners

for 15 French prisoners.

Sergeant, deliver the prisoners

to Lieutenant Fouchier.

Yes, sir. This way, sir.

One of these days, l'm gonna push the

open end of a musket down your throat.

Step back into line there.

My apologies, Lieutenant.

lt is customary for His Majesty's soldiers,

if l may call you that

without maligning my sense of proportion,

to observe the rules of civilized warfare.

-Yes, sir.

-Tripe.

-Who said that?

-l did.

Did you ever see a white man teach

an lndian to walk up under a flag of truce

and blast a soldier

from a gun hidden under a blanket?

-What's your name?

-His name is James Smith.

What do you mean by talking for him?

Professor sometimes talks for me.

Corporal, hold these men for court-martial.

They'll pluck those

cocky rooster feathers out of your tail

-for court-martialing civilians.

-Civilians indeed.

-Deserters, more likely.

-We're civilians!

Born in Pennsylvania, taken

three years ago by Caughnawaga lndians.

We're initiated to the tribe.

You can tell your story to a court-martial.

lf you're not a fool,

l reckon you'll listen to it here!

We escaped

while the tribe visited Quebec.

The French caught us and here we are.

Shackle these men

with the rest of the deserters.

We're civilians!

You've no right to hold us here!

Colonel Clapp, Captain Swanson.

l'd like to get you behind a barn,

back home in Pennsylvania !

Jim !

And the Professor.

-Where have you been?

-We were taken by the Caughnawagas.

-You still got your scalps.

-They made us blood brothers.

-Are these friends of yours?

-Aye. Let me introduce you.

There's Jim Smith and the Professor.

From Pennsylvania.

l thought they were dead.

They've been missing these three years.

The best lndian fighters in the colonies.

All right, Corporal, you may release them.

You'd better read your dispatch, Captain.

Gentlemen, Quebec is English.

Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!

Quebec is British.

That closes the frontier.

There's no more

stirring up the lndians against us.

No more massacres.

Thank God.

General Wolfe said he'd do it

and he's done it.

General Wolfe is dead, sir.

He died with his face to the enemy.

l guess we can go home now, Mac.

Maybe our stomachs found a friend.

All right, come on, boys.

You've had your hot meal.

Now back to work.

Break stone, Teagle,

help Spode with that axle.

-MacDougall.

-Hiya, laddie.

l heard you was up in Canada with

General Wolfe, fighting the French.

l was just showing the General

how to fight lndians.

l killed 30 Onondagas in one day. Aye.

-No.

-Aye.

How dead lndians do multiply!

Well, maybe it was 20 Onondagas,

but that's not to be saying

that a MacDougall like myself

couldn't have killed 30 if he had a mind to.

They're bosom cronies of mine.

-This is Jim Smith and the Professor.

-How are you?

-Strangers around here, ain't you?

-We've been away a little while.

This is Gary Smith's laddie.

-Oh, yeah.

-Could you spare a mite of that grub?

Oh, fall to, lads. We've had ours,

but there's plenty hanging.

l suppose you wouldn't be having a

snifter of whiskey, just a wee drop?

You know, my appetite's not so good

without a bit of a tonic

just to wet my whistle.

No, Mac, we don't traffic in firewater.

We only carry trade goods for the lndians.

-Trade goods?

-l thought the border was closed.

Don't have to be, now that the French

have surrendered Quebec.

Colonel Brady's out in Ohio

making treaties with the lnjuns now.

They're real friendly-like, the lnjuns.

The only friendly lndians

are dead lndians, l say.

lf we don't trade with them,

the French will.

You know how they stir them up

against us, with firewater.

lt's a patriotic duty we're doing.

Did you ask Tom Lowther

about this patriotism?

The lndians beat in

his boy's head with a musket

and left it sticking in his skull.

Rum !

So you don't carry any spirits.

Stop! Where are my spoons?

Stop, thief! Stop!

Five pewter spoons missing and a tankard.

Blast them for the thieves that they are

and blast me for the trusting woman l am !

Now, Janie, that'll do, l'll have

no swearing from a daughter of mine.

So, you're back.

Now, now, lassie, it was no fault of mine.

l was coming home, sober as a judge,

when, bang,

without even a word of apology,

a patrol got hold of me

and pressed me into the army.

Against my will.

Even when l told them what a beautiful

and dutiful daughter l had.

Who'd tend the tavern while you're away,

swilling army rum?

What, me?

Why, l've got the best here

in the cellar at home.

That you can't get at.

Oh, Mac, don't go away

and leave me again.

Take me with you like you used to.

Oh, you contrary female MacDougall!

No.

Hello, Janie.

Put me down, Mac.

And the Professor, they're back from

the very mouth of the grave.

They'd all say,

''He's dead, you'd better forget him.''

And l'd say ''Sure, he's dead,

he's forgotten,'' but l knew it wasn't so.

l didn't let myself know anything else,

l knew you'd come back.

And just where were you,

and what were you doing?

-Well, a...

-Oh, no, no, l don't care.

You're here now.

Blast it, Mac, do you have to stand around

and watch a girl make a fool of herself?

Get in and get your rum.

And you, too, Professor.

lt is a wee bit chilly.

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