Jeremiah Johnson

His name was Jeremiah Johnson.

They say he wanted

to be a mountain man.

The story goes that he was a man

of proper wit and adventurous spirit...

...suited to the mountains.

Nobody knows where he came from

and it don't seem to matter much.

He was a young man...

...and ghosty stories about

the tall hills didn't scare him none.

He was looking for a Hawkin gun,

He settled for a 30, but damn,

it was a genuine Hawkin.

You couldn't do no better.

Bought a horse, traps and other truck

that went with being a mountain man.

And said good-bye

to whatever life was down below.

Where is it l could find bear, beaver,

other critters worth cash skinned?

Ride due west as the sun sets.

Turn left at the Rocky Mountains.

This here's his story.

Jeremiah Johnson

Made his way into the mountains

Betting on forgetting

All the troubles that he knew

The trail was wide and narrow

The eagle or the sparrow

Showed the path he was to follow

As it flew

A mountain man's a lonely man

And he leaves a lot behind

lt ought to have been different

But you often-times will find

That the story doesn't always go

The way you had in mind

And Jeremiah's story

Was that kind

''l, Hatchet Jack...

...being of sound mind

and broken legs...

...do hereby leaveth my bear rifle...

...to whatever finds it.

Lord hope it be a white man.

lt is a good rifle...

...and killed the bear that killed me.

Anyway, l am dead.

Yours truly, Hatchet Jack.''

A 50 caliber Hawkin!

Come on, you.

That'll be far enough, pilgrim!

Where are you?

You're a fine target, pilgrim!

Empty your hand.

l ain't seen no live man in 2 months.

l am Bear Claw Chris Lapp.

Blood kin to the grizzly

that bit Jim Bridger's ass!

You are molesting my hunt!

l know who you are!

You're the same dumb pilgrim

l've been hearing for 20 days...

...and smelling for 3!

How come you ain't been scalped?

Ain't been too lucky?

This place has been

trapped out since '25.

Why are you here?

l hunt griz.

Grizzly bears, pilgrim.

l collect the claws.

l had one in that thicket back there.

Ready to shake hands

until you came along!

l'm sorry, then.

You look it!

Hungry too?

Come on.

You know how to skin griz?

l can skin most anything.

You sure are cocky

for a starving pilgrim.

There she be.

You go in, get warm,

get yourself something to eat.

l've got a chore to finish.

My boy!

Are you sure that you can skin griz?

Just as fast as you can find them.

Skin that one, pilgrim,

and l'll get you another!

Must have missed

another war down there.

Didn't miss nothing.

lf l head due west tomorrow,

will l find good places to trap?

lf you head due west or any place

tomorrow you'll be starving in a week.

You ain't likely to meet

someone of my good nature.

Mountain's got its own ways.

Use that skin pad, pilgrim,

before you lose all your fingers.

Whatever you learned down in the flat

will serve you no good up here.

You got some work to do.

Utes and Flatheads

are generally peaceful critters.

Crows, they are fearful.

Mighty warriors too.

ln my opinion the Crows

are the handsomest lndians there is.

And proud too.

There ain't a man alive

can match them on a horse.

l've seen them run

with one foot on the horse's rump...

...one wrist through a loop

in the mane...

...shooting arrows and guns

under the horse's neck!

But they are an adulterous people.

Adulterous.

Here you are, pilgrim.

Sharp enough to scale a fish with.

Ever get lonesome?

For what?

Woman?

Full-time night woman?

l never could find no tracks

in a woman's heart.

l packed a squaw

for 10 years, pilgrim.

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