Quigley Down Under Page #4

Once in a while she actually

makes a little sense.

- What did you say, Roy?

- Never mind.

Good morning, Major.

Marston.

What can I get for you?

Some refreshment?

That's very kind, sir.

I'd be obliged if you would

identify for me two dead bodies.

Two men absconded.

But I imagine this is

a couple of newcomers

who wandered off together, recently.

A man and a woman?

Two men. One has been stabbed

and one shot through the head.

Coogan and Miller.

It would appear that the man

and the woman are still missing.

Yes, it would, wouldn't it?

Don't worry, Major.

I have no doubt I'll find them.

Hey, lady.

You OK?

Think so.

What are they gonna do to us?

I reckon they already done it.

They gave us water.

But that don't make sense.

They let me keep it when every white man

with a rifle's trying to kill 'em.

- Except you.

- They don't know that.

Don't they?

Something tells me you and I

were on the shady side of dead.

This is a special place.

Bet they used magic on us.

That old man over there,

looks like he's... some kind of chief,

or medicine man, or something.

What's this? There.

More than likely something

that came out of the south end

- of a northbound kangaroo.

- You mean kangaroo sh*t?

Very kind.

- Do you think they're safe to eat?

- You got a better idea?

Much obliged.

Go on.

I don't eat things

that are still moving.

Gonna shoot it first?

Mm-hmm.

- Yo? Yo?

- Yo.

Yo? Yo!

Yo!

After you cut this strip out

of this big piece of kangaroo...

There we go. Take...

Here.

Swing your arm. Just roll your wrist.

You gotta keep that loop open.

See how that loop stays open?

You look at what you're throwing at.

Swing the rope and throw right at it.

Then you just pull him in.

You just wait till you try this.

But you gotta guess what it is.

That little girl is so darling.

She sure is.

Not as darling as Roy Junior.

God Almighty, lady, not another Roy.

I don't know about you, but my stomach

thinks my throat's been cut.

Roy was hunting sage hens

when the Comanches came.

I grabbed the baby and a pistol,

and I hid in the root cellar out back.

The Indians tore up our sod house.

I was real quiet,

but then the baby started crying.

I tried to shush him and suckle him,

but he just wouldn't stop.

One Comanche, I remember, he acted

real drunk and wore my green apron.

He must have heard something.

He started hollering and coming closer.

So I put my hand gentle-like

over my baby's mouth.

"Don't cry. Daddy'll be home soon."

The Indians found us,

but they just laughed.

They was drunk, didn't wanna

hurt anybody, and rode away.

At sundown, Roy came home, but I was

still afraid to come out of the cellar.

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