Shane

Somebody's coming, Pa.

Well... Let him come.

Hope you don't mind|my cutting through your place.

- No, I guess not.|- I'm heading north.

Didn't expect to find|any fences around here.

Hello, boy.

- You were watching me, weren't you?|- Yes, I was.

I like a man who watches|things goin' around.

It means he'll make his mark some day.

Long time since I've seen a Jersey cow.

You'll see a lot more.|Jerseys and Holsteins...

...and the like.

- Can I offer you some water?|- Thanks.

You're a little touchy.

Joey!

- You know not to point guns at people.|- I wasn't pointing at anybody, Mother.

Sure had me snortin', son.

I just wanted you to see my rifle.

Bet you can shoot.

- Can't you?|- Little bit.

Looks like your friends are a little late.

What are the Ryker boys up to this time?

- Rykers?|- That's what I said.

I wouldn't know a Ryker|from your Jersey cow.

Don't forget to close the gate|on your way out.

Would you put down that gun?|Then I'll leave.

What's the difference?|You're leaving anyway.

I'd like it to be my idea.

Howdy, Starrett.

Expectin' trouble?

I don't want no trouble, Starrett.|I came to inform you.

I got that reservation beef contract.

- So many to tell me that?|- I mean business.

- Then, tend to your own.|- That's just what I'm doin'.

I'm gonna need all my range.

Now you've warned me,|get off my place.

Your place?

You'll have to get out before the snow.

- Supposin' I don't?|- You and the other squatters.

- Homesteaders, you mean.|- I could blast you outta here right now.

Listen to me. The time for gun-blastin'|a man off his place is passed.

- They're building a penitentiary...|- Joe, that's enough.

Who are you, stranger?

I'm a friend of Starrett's.

Well, Starrett, you can't say|I didn't warn you.

All right, you've told me.|Now get off my claim.

Supper'll be ready in a little while, Joe.|Won't be very long.

Wait, mister, I...

I swear, I... Wait a minute, please.

I take that back, what I...

Look, this... this thing ain't even loaded.

- Not loaded?|- No, Joey's too young to go loaded.

That's his gun.

If this don't beat all!

My name is Starrett, Joe Starrett,|and this here's Joey.

You heard what my little woman said.|Come on in, I feel like eatin'.

- You can call me Shane.|- Guess I spook kinda easy these days.

Hello, Joe.

My place ain't very much yet,|but my wife sure can cook!

It won't be long till supper.|You can wash up right here.

In case you wanted to know,|that's Ryker's spread all over there.

He thinks the whole world|belongs to him.

The old-timers can't see it yet,

but runnin' cattle|on an open range can't go on.

It takes too much space|for too little results.

Those herds aren't any good,|they're all horns and bone.

Cattle that is bred for meat and fenced in|and fed right, that's the thing.

You gotta pick your spot,|get your land, your own land.

A homesteader can't run but a few beef,|but he can grow grain,

and then with his garden|and hogs and milk, he'll be all right.

We make out, don't we, Marian?

Of course.

It's that calf again.|Joey, chase her out of there.

Joey! Run on, son.

Don't forget to shut that gate.

Joey!

Come on, shoo!

I wouldn't ask you where you're bound.

One place or another.|Some place I've never been.

- The only way I'll leave is in a pine box.|- What do you mean, Pa?

I mean they'll have to shoot me|and carry me out.

- You shouldn't talk like that.|- It's the truth.

You love this place.|We've got our roots down.

- I wish you wouldn't talk that way.|- Our first real home.

- What did you mean...?|- Joey, be quiet. The men want to talk.

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