Buffalo Bill Page #3

- Where'd you make contact?

- About 20 miles from here.

- On the Smoky.

- Trumpeter, sound to arms!

Come inside.

Go to my brother Yellow Hand.

Tell him there is an old man

here at the agency...

...great in the council of the whites.

You understand?

Tell my brother that if this man

is taken hostage...

...it will make it easier for the Cheyenne

to make a good peace.

Three days' rations and forage.

120 rounds per man.

- The column moves in 30 minutes.

- Very good, sir.

- You're going to meet them in the open?

- Certainly I am.

Doesn't sound like a good idea.

The Cheyenne are a shifty lot.

I'll attend to the strategy, Cody.

And my strategy is the attack,

now and any other time.

It's ignominious.

A miserable mule casts his shoe...

...and I miss a chance to ride

in Blazier's column.

Maybe you're not missing anything

by being left behind.

I guess not. Don't you think

the Cheyenne will give Blazier a battle?

If they do, it won't be

where he's looking for it.

You know the Indian,

Cody, don't you?

Nobody knows the Indian.

I've had to fight him since I was 14.

Pony Express, stage driving, scouting.

Indians never do what you expect.

- What's that?

- The Indians.

Blazier's not between them and here.

- Where are you going?

- To the agency.

- Are you all right, ma'am?

- Those savages took my father.

They'll torture him to death.

Your noble friends!

- Why don't you go after them!

- Nothing we can do now, ma'am.

- How many were there?

- I don't know.

A war party swarmed all over us.

I can't track them in the dark.

- There are too many of them.

- We must do something!

All we can do is hope for the best.

They only wanted the senator

as a hostage.

By the Lord Harry, that's it!

To get better peace terms.

Savages! Brutes! Fiends!

Why did I ever come

to this nightmare of a country?

How.

Yellow Hand.

They've made you war chief

in a nation of women.

Your squaws can't make me run.

Get down from your horse

and see if you can.

Don't be afraid.

My hands are tied.

Let them alone. They've got

more grit than your braves.

I came in peace.

I thought the Cheyenne were men.

They're squaws.

Such words have no place between

warriors, Long Hair.

Thanks, Yellow Hand.

That's more comfortable.

It is the word of my father,

the Cheyenne will make peace...

...if the land between the rivers

is left to us.

If the white men

will hear the word of my father...

...let them come to powwow

at Council Grove.

If they will not hear his word,

let them come armed for war.

- My father has spoken.

- I will carry his word.

Then go, Pahaska.

I'm not going without

the white man from the agency.

The white man is a hostage.

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