Dances with Wolves Page #7

INT. FAMBROUGH'S OFFICE - DAY

Sitting behind the desk, holding a set of orders is MAJOR

FAMBROUGH.

FAMBROUGH:

Lt. John J. Dunbar.

Lt. Dunbar is standing in front of the desk.

DUNBAR:

Yes sir?

FAMBROUGH:

Indian fighter, huh?

DUNBAR:

Excuse me?

FAMBROUGH:

(indicating paper)

Your orders say you are to be posted

on the frontier. The frontier is

Indian country. I quickly deduced

that you are an Indian fighter.

He arches an eyebrow, challenging the lieutenant. He has sad

swollen eyes. He is an army lifer passed over too many times

for promotion and right now does not look like a well man.

FAMBROUGH:

I did not ascend to this position by

being stupid.

DUNBAR:

No sir.

Fambrough returns to the order. Dunbar watches him in silence.

The major's tunic is covered with food stains. Sweat has

broken out all over his head. His grooming is awful. His

hands are trembling slightly. Something is very wrong with

him.

Now the major sees something on the official paper. He looks

quickly at the lieutenant, then back at the paper, moving

his lips but making no sound.

FAMBROUGH:

It says here you've been decorated.

DUNBAR:

Yes sir.

FAMBROUGH:

And they sent you out here to be

posted?

DUNBAR:

Actually sir, I'm here at my own

request... I want to see the frontier.

FAMBROUGH:

You want to see the frontier?

DUNBAR:

Yes sir... before it's gone.

The major fixes Dunbar with a sly look.

FAMBROUGH:

Such a smart lad coming straight to

me.

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