The Hallelujah Trail (1965) Script

Hallelujah, hallelu, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelu, hallelujah Don't know where we're goin' or where we been Hallelujah Trail It's written in the dust and blown by the wind Hallelujah Trail Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelu, Hallelujah Trail You can't tell a horse from a stubborn mule Hallelujah Trail You can't tell a hero from a doggone fool Hallelujah Trail Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelu, Hallelujah Trail Love a woman and she'll love you Hallelujah Trail Just do unto her like she wants you to Hallelujah Trail There ain't no such thing as a perfect man Hallelujah Trail You girls gotta do the best you can Hallelujah Trail Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelu, Hallelujah Trail Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelu, Hallelujah Trail The girls are sweet as sugar candy Hallelujah Trail But look out, boys, their lips are sandy Hallelujah Trail Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah

Early in the morning, almost day Hallelujah Trail Rise and shine, we're on our way Hallelujah Trail Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelu, Hallelujah Trail Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelu, Hallelujah Trail!

The land at first.

Mountains thrust forth from the molten darkness of the earth.

Mountain and valley.

The virgin West.

High plateau and red rock of sandstone.

Wilderness West.

Prairie land, rolling on and on to the end of sight.

Oh, pioneer West.

What fervent dreams lay half-buried in this land of promise?

Dreams crushed by a cruel nature or the lance of an Indian warrior.

Every page in history must have its beginning, and ours takes us to the year 1867.

An army that had fought in the war between the states, that had bravely battled in many an Indian campaign, now patrolled the West in a time of peace, with ever-present thoughts of home.

The Indian was back on the reservation, where the Peace Commission of 1867 had met with various warlike tribes and secured certain promises from them.

In return, papers were given to Indians, certifying them to be good citizens who would obey the laws of the land.

Many gifts were distributed.

Beads,

pieces of cloth, ammunition, and war-surplus rifles.

Naturally, these rifles were quite unfamiliar to the Indians.

Of course, it was understood these weapons were to be used solely for the purpose of hunting game.

The leaves turned early in that year.

It could be a long, hard winter.

The signs were everywhere.

In the high country, the morning frost would sometimes last until afternoon.

Buffalo were feeding ravenously.

Beaver were damming and storing with strange vigour.

Horses and dogs were becoming shaggy-haired as never before.

And it could be sensed in the booming, bustling mining town of Denver.

Most historians agree that the events leading to the Battle of Whiskey Hills and the subsequent disaster at Quicksand Bottoms began here in Denver, at a miners' meeting.

Such meetings were frequent and held as part of the political fabric of the town.

But the meeting of November 4th had a marked air of grim foreboding.

Quiet! I got an announcement I gotta make.

In 10 days from now the city of Denver will be bone dry.

No!

Not one drop of whiskey anywhere.

Speak up! We can't hear ya!

I said Denver will be bone dry in 10 days.

You heard what I said. I said plumb out and I mean out!

Wait a minute, wait a minute.

I thought Bert Keeler was gettin' in a big order, but he was sick.

Sam Buford was gettin' in 60 barrels, but Sam got his foot caught in that bear trap.

He didn't tell Shelby to get his 50 barrels, so...

So with four big orders outta reach, there ain't nobody else put in.

Now, take this here saloon alone. That's all there is.

Look at it. And there's already been snow flurries along Gunner's Pass.

If we get ourselves a hard, cold winter, there won't be a wagonload of whiskey in Denver till spring.

And it could be a late spring.

Hold it! So what we need, we need us a plan.

Hey! What does Oracle say?


Afternoon, gents.

Oracle, what about this here winter?

The buffalo are feedin' ravenous.

The beaver are workin' somethin' fierce.

The horses and dogs are growin' shaggy-haired like never before.

What else? Have you seen anything else?

Yep, I had me a vision on, uh... Oh, it come on me two days ago.

Well? What'd you see?

Uh...

Why, thank you.

At the feed store, it was. Come on more sudden than most.

I was lookin' up, and there it was.

What was it? Snow.

Heavy, white snow.

Yep, it's gonna be a long, hard winter.

And when a long, hard winter hits us, by damn, she hits.

No wagons gettin' through, no supplies? And no whiskey.

You know. Yep.

It come on me two days ago. We gotta have a plan.

What kinda plan, Oracle? Uh, let me just...

Hallelujah!

There! Now I see it!

I see all of us a-comin' together. I, um...

I see us... puttin' all the whiskey orders into one big shipment for the whole winter.

I see us gettin' an ironclad guarantee from, uh...

from some good company like, uh, uh...

Thank you. Like Frank Wallingham...

to get them drinkables to our saloons right now afore the snows hit.

I, uh...

I see a wagon train, a whole wagon train loaded up with whiskey a-comin' down on us from Julesburg.

I see 20...

30...

40 wagons.

Are you Hobbs? I am, sir.

Did you print that? I did, sir.

And who, may I ask, are you? Frank Wallingham.

I see. How do you do? Won't you sit down, Mr. Wallingham?

No. I wanna know why. Why did you do it?

I've done nothing but print the truth.

600 barrels of Philadelphia-brewed whiskey moving from here to Denver.

Yes. Then what happens when the Indians get wind of 40 wagons full of firewater?

They'll scalp us from head to foot. Indians don't read newspapers.

Who says they don't? The Indian problem's all settled.

Haven't you read the Peace Commissioners' report?

All right, then. Worse than Indians! Revenue agents!

Oh... Haven't paid your federal taxes, huh?

Of course I pay my taxes! I'm an honest businessman.

And a good Republican.

But give those snoopers a taste of honey and they'll swarm down from every direction but up.

You have my sympathy. Sympathy?

It's because I didn't advertise in your rag, because I didn't give you free whiskey. You'd better get outta here.

You listen to me. I've got every cent that I own tied up in this cargo.

By damn, I'm gonna see it gets to Denver. You can print that, sir.

I shall.

I'm sending a telegram to Colonel Gearhart at Fort Russell.

I am demanding an entire troop of US cavalry as escort. Print that, sir!

I shall. Good.

You should also put in your paper that I say that any tax snooper, white road agent or Red Indian that comes near my wagons had better be wearin' cast-iron underwear.

And if you try to blackmail me one more time, I'll come back here and cram this down your lyin' throat.

Good day, sir.

Smythe. Yes, sir.

What's the name of that temperance woman? Martindale?

Massingale, sir. Cora Templeton Massingale.

Oh, yes, Massingale. Do you know where she is?

On a tour of New England last month, sir. Then Boston, to Philadelphia, to Trenton.

She may be a female hellcat about whiskey, sir, but a fine figure of a woman, with eyes...

Smythe. Sir?

I asked you where she is.

Oh. At Fort Russell, sir. She got there yesterday.

Fort Russell?

Send a telegram to her. Mark it urgent.

The editor of the Julesburg Gazette was quite right.

Indians did not read newspapers.

It's a matter of speculation therefore just how they did hear of the whiskey cargo.

There were couriers, of course, and there was the smoke signal, first used by the ancient Greeks and Hebrews.

How the Indians acquired it from them is of no importance here. But they did.

Nor was smoke used exclusively.

A crude mirror, painted stone, carved bark of trees were quite popular.

And a peculiarly knotted string.

The message was always transmitted in code.

A code which no white man was ever able to break.

Regardless of what method was used by the Indians, it's a matter of record that news of the whiskey train became common knowledge within 48 hours to every tribe of every North American Plains Indian.

We are still unaware why only one tribe rode out to investigate the firewater train.

But it's supposed there was competition among the various tribes for the honour.

It is for us to make reconnaissance of wagon-train position.

It is for me to make such reconnaissance.

He is chief of Sioux.

And I am chief of Crow.

We will do it.

You will not do it. I will do it.

You and I are blocked.

Yes, we are.

Authorities agree that personal disputes among the Plains tribes were settled very quickly.

Just south of Cheyenne stood Fort Russell, famous throughout the West as a bastion of military strength and the home of the rugged, disciplined, frontier soldier.

Stand up, stand up and sing it Beat it on the drum Stand, stand up and sing it Down with demon rum Stand up, stand up and sing it Raise our banners high Victory is coming Victory is nigh, believers Victory is nigh

And now, ladies, I give you once again Mrs. Cora Templeton Massingale.

Oh, thank you, thank you! Your reception has warmed my heart.

Ladies, you have heard it said that man is all mouth and muscle, that he is dirty boots on one end and a dirty mind on the other.

Don't you believe it.

If we are to enjoy equal rights with man, we must respect him, and, if we are to respect him, then we must save him from himself and from the poison of alcoholic spirits!

Do you agree? Yes!

Then let the world know it.

Let us spread the word of emancipation to every corner of this great nation.

Emancipation! Let me hear it!

Emancipation!

Freedom for women! Freedom for women!

Shout it out, ladies! Women can remake the world!

Women can remake the world!

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword His truth is marching on Glory, glory, hallelujah Glory, glory, hallelujah Glory, glory, hallelujah His truth is marching on Ladies! Let me hear it!

Emancipation!

Shout it out! Freedom for women!

Once again! Women can remake the world!

What do you think, Sergeant?

I hate to say it, Colonel, but it sounds like Sioux or Cheyenne war cries to me, sir.

An uprising at the fort?

Ridiculous. Yes, sir.

I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps His truth is marching on

Those are bugles, sir.

Glory, glory, hallelujah Glory, glory, hallelujah Glory, glory, hallelujah His truth is marching on

Glory, glory, hallelujah Glory, glory, hallelujah Glory, glory, hallelujah His truth is marching on That's cannon, sir!

Form a skirmish line to the left! Form a skirmish line to the left! Ho!

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me Draw carbines! Ho!

Company B returning. Open the gates.

Glory, glory...

My God! She's on fire, sir! Charge!

Glory, glory, hallelujah His truth is...

You! Good evening, Colonel.

Bandmaster, front and centre.

You're under arrest. This entire band is under arrest.

You're confined to quarters until further notice.

Dismissed!

Who are the idiots who fired those cannon?

Sergeant Perkins. Private McIntosh.

Private Johnson. Private Williams.

Report to my quarters tomorrow morning at nine.

Yes, sir.

Brady.

Return carbines. In file, prepare to dismount.

Dismount.

Madam. Article twelve, section seven, paragraph two of army regulations states: "Government property cannot be used for political demonstrations."

Sir, we have never designated our movement to be political.

Article nine, section two, paragraph four of army regulations clearly states that civilian meetings may be held at military installations when permission has been granted by the commanding officer.

The commanding officer? I see.

Forgive me, madam. We've been on patrol for six days. I'm somewhat weary.

Captain Slater gave you permission in my absence?

He did.

Brady, I want this mess cleaned up. Yes, sir.

Ladies, I see you have transport. You'll be escorted back to town.

The party will leave in five minutes exactly.

Madam, do you have quarters here? I have.

Then you may retire to those quarters, madam, and remake the world on some other occasion. Good evening.

Buell. Sir!

Buell, get me Captain Slater. Yes, sir.


Excuse me, sir. Did the colonel wish to see me?

Where the hell did you come from? I couldn't help but overhear, sir.

I want the colonel to know that what happened tonight, the way it happened, was so quick that I hardly had time to marshal my forces.

Did you give that woman permission for a temperance rally?

Yes and no. That is, I had no idea it would get outta hand, so to speak, sir.

What the hell did you expect?

Give a woman an acorn and you're up to your rump in oak trees.

That's very true, sir. And I am sorry.

If only they hadn't started moving... that is to say, marching.

Led by the Fort Russell band. I'd say that Mrs. Massingale led them.

The band came next.

You see, they were playing The Battle Hymn of the Republic, and every time they got to "Hallelujah"... boom!

I'm sorry, sir, about the cannon. Spare me the details.

Slater, what if word got out that Fort Russell stood behind a temperance movement?

That I, a line officer, could ever support such a movement?

Well, you got a point there, sir.

And you let them go right ahead. Well, I, uh...

Actually, I was trying to keep the colonel's daughter out of it, for your sake.

What's my daughter got to do with this?

Well, your daughter... Please.

I beg you not to hold Paul responsible, Father.

It was my fault. I was the one who...

She was not. And I refuse to allow her to accept responsibility. I was the one.

You were not. Yes, I was.

Paul...

In my own quarters. We're sorry, Father, truly we are.

B-but... But what?

But...

But may I point out, sir, that you have the only private quarters at the fort, and we didn't expect you back so soon.

It's true that Miss Gearhart has her own quarters, sir, but I thought that my presence there might put her in a compromising position.

Since my own quarters are shared, sir...

Slater! Answer me.

I'm trying to, sir. He isn't either, not truthfully.

He wasn't keeping me out of the temperance meeting, I was keeping him.

I thought he might try to stop the marching, so this seemed a lovely...

I mean, a way... to divert him.

Louise.

You don't really mind, do you, darling?

I mean, you certainly couldn't have enjoyed yourself any the less.

Louise!

Well, I'd do anything for Cora Massingale and her cause.

And if you've hurt her, Father, I'll never forgive you.

Slater. Yes, sir.

The women, the rally, the cannon.

I'll chalk it all up to your inexperience.

Thank you, sir.

But you cannot... you simply cannot use my quarters for... for this sort of thing.

I'm sorry, sir.

Why don't you just get on with it and marry the girl?

Stop all this lying around?

Well, the colonel knows my feelings about that, sir.

The West is no life for a woman.

The West is no life for anyone. Wind, dust, Indians.

I hate the wind. I hate the dust. And I hate the Indians.

Yes, I know. And until my transfer comes through to an eastern post, I'll...

I'll drink to that.

To you and Louise and a transfer. There you are.

I can't, sir. Why not?

I haven't said good night to Louise yet. The liquor on my breath...

She knows you drink, she knows I drink. I know that, sir, but...

If you had seen her at that meeting tonight. She heard Mrs. Massingale.

Her eyes all lit up. Frightened hell out of me, sir.

All right. Go to her. Do whatever it is you do.

Thank you, sir. But not on my bear rug!

No. No, sir.

Slater.

Here. Escort for a wagon train. Fella named Wallingham.

Taxpayer, good Republican.

I want you to figure out how to intercept the train and escort them to Denver.

Denver? That'll take over a week. I promised Louise...

I know, I know. She'll cry, of course.

Just tell her duty is a cruel master.

Yes, sir. Duty... is a cruel... master.

Yes, sir. Thank you. Good night, sir.

Colonel Gearhart?

Colonel?

Colonel?

I, uh...

I don't wish to intrude on your privacy, Colonel, but... this is vitally important.

I'm taking a bath.

The sight of a gentleman taking his bath is not foreign to a woman who's been widowed twice.

Well... Would you care to have a seat?

No, thank you. What I have to say is best said standing.

You'll forgive me if I don't get up.

It's not necessary.

Mrs. Massingale, I've already told Captain Slater I won't hold him responsible.

In your case, I've written off the entire incident. So now...

That's not why I'm here.

I have received a telegram from Julesburg that distresses me deeply.

It says a train of 40 wagons left there yesterday bound for Denver and that you are to furnish military escort for that train.

Is that information correct?

I received a request to that effect, yes.

Were you aware, Colonel, that the cargo of those 40 wagons is alcohol?

No, ma'am. Well, now you know.

Tell me, Colonel, are you going to furnish escort?

Yes, ma'am.

I respectfully request that you reconsider, Colonel.

In the name of suffering humanity, I implore you to halt that wagon train and destroy this poison that they're carrying.

What you ask is... What you ask is impossible. The cargo is legal.

I have no grounds nor wish to destroy civilian property.

And now, madam, will you leave me to my bath?

Is it legal to sell whiskey to Indians?

Who said anything... Who said anything about Indians?

The cargo is headed for Denver, for businessmen there.

How do you know? I have the owner's word for it.

Mr. Frank Wallingham, who is an acquaintance, a taxpayer, and a good Republican.

Well, in that case, you force me to take action.

Our movement has many friends in many high places.

Men such as... Horace Greeley.

Is that a threat?

You can consider it such if you like. My conscience forces me to make it.

And mine demands that I do my duty.

So be it.

May I impose upon your kindness for directions to the post telegraph office?

Mrs. Massingale, I'll do better than that.

I'll furnish you transportation to the Cheyenne telegraph office, where your messages are sure to get out twice as quickly.

Thank you.

Call on me again if there's anything further I can do.

You're a very generous man, Colonel.

Right turn! Ho!


Three telegrams, sir, just arrived.

Read them.

"The Governor of Colorado is against liquor and its vicissitudes, but his position makes it impossible to take a position in the matter of whiskey cargo to Denver."

"The Adjutant General's office is grateful to Women's Temperance for the splendid morale factor they have upon the American soldier. However..."

Whiskey matters must be left to commanders in the field.

"Respectfully."

"Mr. Horace Greeley has ever championed the noble cause of temperance and suffrage, but is unable to interfere with constituted authority of the West."

Buell. Give these to Mrs. Massingale with my compliments and arrange transportation for her. Her movement is moving.

Yes, sir.

On the morning of November 16th, the Wallingham wagon train was moving along north of the South Platte River.

At the head was its owner, Frank Wallingham, and its wagon master, Rafe Pike.

To the rear was a group of Irish teamsters under the leadership of one Kevin O'Flaherty.

The Slater patrol was turning south towards the course of the Wallingham train, and a band of Sioux warriors was on the move, led by the great Chief 5 Barrels and his sub-chief, Walks-Stooped-Over, who was also known in certain Indian circles as Sky Eyes, due to the blue colour of his eyes, the heritage apparently of some slight, uh... irregularity in his ancestry.

Please, Father, be reasonable. No.

If Mrs. Massingale wants a farewell meeting, she may use the mess hall.

But I will not attend.

But we're not asking you to take the pledge.

Although a bit of temperance might make you happier.

No red-blooded drinking man is more temperate than I am.

And I'm happy. I'm damned happy.

If you would only try to understand Mrs. Massingale, a woman who's lost two husbands to alcohol.

They drank themselves into an early grave.

I can only wonder why.

Do you absolutely refuse, Father, to attend this meeting?

I do, and I'm beginning to regret giving you the hall.

The least you can do is release the post band.

No.

But we can't sing hymns without them. Good.

There's no point in having the meeting. Splendid.

Please, Father.

It means so much to us. And Mrs. Massingale is leaving.

We may never see her again.

Can I depend on that? Oh, I never go back on my word.

I shall say goodbye at the meeting.

Well, maybe the trombone.

Thank you, Father. You're a dear.

And the drums? No. No drums.

Good afternoon.

Stand up, stand up and sing it Raise our banners high Victory is coming Victory is nigh, believers Victory is nigh

What's goin' on over there? Singing, sir.

You have guards at every exit? As you ordered, sir.

You'd better double the guards. Check the exits yourself.

If they break out of that hall in marching formation...

That's what happened to Captain Slater. Yes, sir.

Ladies, our enemy has two heads.

First, the enslavement of women by men.

Yes.

And second, the enslavement of men themselves by the remorseless tyrant alcohol.

Are we willing to fight these enemies? Yes.

Then we must reach out for freedom, and tear this tyrant from the lips of man.

Now, ladies, I have an announcement to make to each and every one of you who has touched my heart.

The time has come for me to say goodbye to all you wonderful women...

Thank God!

Something has occurred which requires my presence elsewhere.

I am going to the city of Denver. Denver?

I know, I know. You ask me "Why Denver?" I'll tell you why.

Because 40 wagons of whiskey are going to Denver right now.

40 wagons of poison for those poor misguided citizens, and no one in high office seems to care.

Well, I do!

And I shall shout it over and over until the mountains of Colorado come tumbling down to the Denver saloons.

Will your hearts go with me? Yes!

Is our cause just and righteous? Yes!

I've doubled the guards, sir. I want you to guard the main entrance.

Do I have your blessings? Yes!

No!

No! I cannot let you go to that sinful city alone.

If you'll have me, Mrs. Massingale, I'll go with you.

Get over there. Drag my daughter off that platform.

Oh, how wonderful, ladies!

Oh, ladies, we'll all go to Denver. Yes!

We'll make it our marching song. Yes!

Stand up, we'll march to Denver No more wine or beer Stand up, we'll march to Denver We will have no fear Stand up, we'll march to Denver Raise our banners high Denver, we are coming Denver will be dry, believers Denver will be dry Stand up, we'll march to Denver Down with demon rum Stand up, we'll march to Denver Denver, here we come Stand up, we'll march to Denver Lift our banners high...

Well, Buell?

Just... tryin' to get my wind back, sir.

Knocked me flat, sir.

Did you hear what that... woman said, sir?

I did.

But, sir... "But, sir" what?

How can we let them go through with it, sir?

March to Denver through country like this, without escort or protection?

What if they come upon a bunch of Indians, sir?

I suggest we pray for the Indians.

Can the... the army refuse escort, sir?

From now on, the army will do what I tell it to do.

What, uh... What do you intend to do, sir?


Good morning, Miss Gearhart. Good morning, Sergeant Buell.


Go away.

Louise, will you please go away?

This should make you feel better. Nice hot milk.

What's going on out there?

Will you stop that infernal uproar?

You will not under any circumstances go off with that... that woman.

Yes, Father.

To Denver or anyplace else. I want that clearly understood.

Yes, Father.

Now will you please leave me alone?

Is he better?

I'm afraid not.

Louise, go and get me some more blankets. Lots of them.

I want him to perspire. We will sweat the poison out of his system.

Blankets. All right, Mrs. Massingale.

Mrs. Massingale! Lie back.

Madam... Back.

Now... just be quiet, please. Don't exert yourself.

Madam, we have a surgeon. Just relax.

Let the blood flow.

Now tell me, Colonel, does the pain centre lie about here?

Look, Mrs...

It's a little higher. A little higher. Yes, of course.

About this march, Mrs. Massingale... Just unwind.

This march to Denver... impossible.

Right here, at this junction, Colonel, a series of cords.

And beneath them, intertwined nerves like fine silk threads.

Matters of... transportation.

Rattlesnakes...

All connected up to here where the pain centre lies.

Examine my position.

Consider, if you will...

Oh, that feels good. That's the key point.

First we rub gently downwards, and then upwards, and then downwards again.

Now you're beginning to relax. I can feel it in my fingers.

I wish I could help you, but...

Army regulations.

Article 12, section 26, paragraph...

That's right.

Relax. Relax.

Company, attention!

Company, attention!


Good morning, Colonel Gearhart.

Good morning, Father.

Morning, ladies.

Who are those men at the gate?

Husbands. Not all the ladies are single.

What do they want here?

The ladies are takin' their wagons away.

They want the colonel to do something about it, sir.

Sir. Well?

Does the colonel intend...

I mean to say, sir, will the escort party...

Sir, do you really intend to go through with this thing?

Buell, you've got a great deal to learn about military science.

A simple matter of objective and stratagem.

Objective - get rid of these damn women.

Stratagem... Take 'em to Denver, sir?

Mount up, Buell. Mount up. Yes, sir.

Move them out, Brady. Yes, sir.

Twos left!

Right turn! Ho!

Right turn! Ho!

Right turn! Ho!

Left turn! Ho!


Stand up, we'll march to Denver No more wine or beer Stand up, we'll march to Denver No more whiskey here Stand up, we'll march to Denver Buell! Sir!

One bugler, just one bugler joins in with that singing, I'll have him shot!

Yes, sir.

Stand up, we'll march to Denver Down with demon rum Stand up...

It might be prudent right at this moment to get our bearings upon this historic arena.

Julesburg is here.

To the southwest along the South Platte River is the city of Denver.

North of it we find Fort Russell.

The Wallingham wagon train had moved to this point on the river.

The first cavalry patrol under Captain Slater... here.

The second cavalry patrol under Colonel Gearhart... here, with, of course, the temperance marchers.

And the band of Sioux Indians... here.

In the city of Denver, another miners' meeting was being held.

Hold it! Hold it down. This meetin' is called to order.

Tell me who called this meetin', what for, and what's all the hollering about!

I did. Clayton, we gotta face the facts.

There's been no word from that wagon train in two weeks.

That's right. There's snow already at Grizzly Pass.


Afternoon, gents. Oracle, the thing is we, uh...

We got trouble. You know?

That wagon train may not never get to you.

Why not? Why, thank you.

It was all set on comin' to me. I, uh... I was lookin' up and, uh... uh...

Thank you.

Hallelu...

There! Now I see it! What?

Uh... Injuns.

I see hundreds of Injuns.

You see anything else, Oracle?

I think, uh... Hallelu...

I see men... I see men on the march. Cavalry?

Course not. This ain't no time for children.

I see men, men carryin', uh...

picks and, uh... axes and, uh... uh...

uh...

shovels.

Well, who are they? Denver citizens' militia.

A-marchin' out there to intercept that wagon train and see that whiskey gets home.

Hold on, Oracle. We're workin' men. We're miners. We ain't Injun fighters.

I ain't marchin' up any rivers, sleeping on the rocks and cookin' on campfires.

You gonna spend the whole winter in Denver without no whiskey?

At dawn the morning of November 17th, the second cavalry patrol was heading due south for Denver, with of course the temperance marchers.

The Wallingham wagon train was turning west.

The first cavalry patrol was moving fast to intercept it.

The Denver citizens' militia was making an easterly crossing of the South Platte River, while the Sioux Indians were coming down from the north, picking up more braves all the time.

Whoa!

For the beloved love of all the saints, St Pat and Mike and Bridget, and all the souls in purgatory, not again!

Call yourself a wagon! You rotten collection of wood!

You ain't fit for carryin' swill to vultures!


Whoa!

All right, O'Flaherty. What's your excuse this time, you ignorant immigrant lump?

Oh, lump, is it? Well...

All things being equal, we'll be havin' a word with your lordship.

I told you I am not a lordship!

Can't expect an Irish serf to forget the habits of a lifetime, now.

Just get on with it. Well, now.

We, the Irish Teamsters, have a petition of grievances.

We state in plain and simple terms the bad conditions under which we've been forced to labour, and do hereby raise formal objection to the followin', to wit: travel hours and harnessin', unharnessin', carin' for horses, loadin', unloadin', beddin', guard duty, poor drinkin' water, order of wagons in march, and, might I add, in addition to no whiskey ration whatsoever in a whole cargo of whiskey.

Now, suppose these grievances of yours aren't answered?

What'll you do? Strike? That's an ugly word to a workin' man.

But it would be considered. Ah...

Well, in that case, O'Flaherty, you strike.

Strike. And who, might I ask, pray tell me, are you goin' to get to drive your sweatin', rotten wagons?

There are your grievances. We've struck off 12 more copies.

Exploiter! Capitalist!

Highbinder! Profiteer!

Mr. Wallingham, I presume. Captain Slater at your service.

Colonel Gearhart sends his compliments.

He's most happy to comply with your request for escort to Denver.

Good for Colonel Gearhart.

Have you seen any Indians? A scout informed me...

There aren't any Indians here. Haven't you heard of the Peace Commission?

With a cargo like this, you've got to be sure, damn sure!

Indians, revenue agents, temperance women.

Oh, you know. Know what?

About Cora Massingale. Where?

It's all right. She's not here.

She's at Fort Russell giving temperance lectures.

Are you positive she's at Fort Russell? I positively guarantee it.

She isn't any nearer your cargo than... than the Indians are.

Hope it's hot.

Wait till we get you in.


Oh!

Sergeant, I, uh...

We've got a morale problem, sir.

Take care of it, Buell.

I think the colonel will have to root it out, sir, right at the core.

The ladies, sir, are taking baths... in the nude.

Mrs. Massingale, I'd like a word with you.

Would you mind calling some other time, Colonel? I'm taking a bath.

I am well aware that you're taking a bath.

I don't care how dirty you are.

I will not have you ladies bathing in the nude.

There's no other way I know of, Colonel.

The opportunity was there and... who knows what tomorrow might bring?

Especially now that we've changed our plans.

Changed your plans? Yes, Colonel.

You mean you want to go back to Cheyenne now?

Don't be ridiculous. Of course not. We want only to meet the wagon train.

But you are meeting the train. That's why we're going to Denver.

But we want to meet it long before it reaches Denver.

That's not possible. On the contrary.

We now intend to intercept the wagon train along the River Platte.

You what?

In a clash of wills, Colonel, he who shouts loudest is lost.

Madam...

If I understand you correctly, you are going to lead your ladies through unsettled Plains country along the South Platte River trail. Exactly.

And upon meeting the wagon train, I surmise you will put on a demonstration, whose purpose is to turn back the train.

Precisely.

Very well. But if you think the United States Army is going to escort a bunch of harebrained females across open desert, bent on throwing themselves under horse teams, you're gravely mistaken.

Very well. I thank you for your many courtesies thus far, but if you force us to go our way unescorted and any harm comes to us, three million infuriated women will turn the War Department upside down.

Mrs. Massingale, if I could force you to do anything, which obviously I cannot, it would be to go home, and stay home, where all decent women belong.


Sergeant. Sir?

Dammit. Yes, sir.

Sergeant, I want some scouts on the trail of those women tomorrow.

Have them keep in constant touch with us.

We'll move in a somewhat parallel direction.

Yes, sir.

Excuse me, sir. Parallel direction...

Is that a new tactic, sir? I'm not acquainted with it.

It was well known throughout the war. Yes, sir, of course.

What's it called, sir? Called?

What command shall I give the men? "Move in a somewhat parallel direction"?

It's called... detached contact.

Detached contact?

And let it so be recorded in the daily journal!

Yes, sir.


No documents can establish just how the Sioux formulated their plans, although it's known that a plan was so formulated.

All we can do is surmise what was said.

White man win war. Now we use white man's way.

You, Chief Walks-Stooped-Over, with 20 braves attack front of wagon train, and draw off guard.

You, Chief Elks-Runner, with 20 braves attack rear of wagon train and draw off guard.

All other braves attack centre of wagon train.

When Long Knives chase braves, then great Chief 5 Barrels and two brothers-in-law circle around whole wagon train, come in from southeast, grab last three wagons and go like hell... west.

In the morning, when the sun rises over Iron Mountain two hands high, attack!

If Long Knives capture braves, show them paper.

We good Indians. No trouble.

Go back to reservation.

But before you go, don't forget to ask for presents.

In preparation for their attack, the Indians took up three positions.

Here... here... and here.

The Wallingham wagon train was moving in this direction, escorted by the first cavalry patrol.

The temperance marchers, having turned east, were moving in this direction.

The second cavalry patrol under Colonel Gearhart was keeping detached contact.

The citizens' militia were now heading due north at this position.

Obviously, a collision course for all concerned.

The day began with a sandstorm of disturbing proportions.

Hey, Rafe. Rafe! Rafe! What?

Get 'em moved up back there! Huh?

Let's get them wagons moved up!

Keep your eye on them Irishmen! What?

Watch out for them agitators! Huh?

Oh, shut up!

Arise! Break away now. They'll think we're lost in the storm.

They'll have to give in to our demands.

Keep together, everybody, and keep moving!

Don't despair. We'll get through.

Buell, take a scout. Make contact with the women. They may need help.

Sir. Phillips!

Oracle, can you see anything? Nothing.

I mean, in your mind. I need whiskey.

Stand up, we'll march to Denver For our cause is just Stand up, we'll march to Denver To conquer sin and lust Stand up, we'll march to Denver Raise our banners high Denver, we are coming Denver will be dry, believers Denver will be dry Stand up, we'll march to Denver For our cause is just Stand up, we'll march to Denver To conquer sin and lust Stand up, we'll march to Denver Raise our banners high Denver, we are coming Denver will be dry, believers Denver will be dry

Stand up, we'll march to Denver Raise our banners high Rafe! Rafe! Rafe!

Denver will be dry, believers Denver will be dry Pretend we're lost!

We are lost!

Oracle, you sure you know where you're goin'

I mean, you ain't lost? Course I ain't lost.

Now you just get behind me and keep goin'

Follow me, men.

Now listen to me, you men.

We're gonna shelter from this dust and...


Go!


Stand up, we'll march to Denver No more whiskey here


Hey! Hey, wait...

Ladies, form a circle!

Rafe! Rafe! Rafe! Rafe!

Rafe! Was that gunfire? Huh?

I said did ya hear gunfire? What?

Form a circle, dammit! Form a circle!

A circle! Form a circle!

Form a circle!

Militia! Form a circle!

Whoa!

Take cover, ladies!


Keep firin'


Henry! Take a squad! Get up on that ridge!

Yes, sir! Ho!


Protect your rear!

Fire!

Protect your other rear!

Fire!

Protect your rear!


Try this! Protect both rears simultaneously!

It's Indians, sir! What?

Indians, sir! And they've got the women!

Good God! Charge!

A great effort has been made to adhere to the chronological events of this action, but due to the poor visibility we are only able to approximate positions.

As the battle neared its climax, we believe the wagon train was... here.

The two elements of the first cavalry detachment - here and here.

The second cavalry detachment - here.

The women's temperance marchers - here.

The Denver citizens' militia - approximately here.

The Indians - here, here and...

Agh!

...here.

It is not known what happened to the striking Irish.

To the best of our knowledge, these are the final positions in the engagement that became known to history as the Battle of Whiskey Hills, but which, of course, was as nothing compared to the subsequent disaster at Quicksand Bottoms.


Hallelujah, hallelu, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelu, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelu, Hallelujah Trail Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelu, Hallelujah Trail


It's a miracle. I beg your pardon, sir?

A miracle of the highest order that so many bullets could miss so many people in so small an area in such a short space of time.

No fatalities at all? None reported, sir.

What do you propose that we do now? Our duty is crystal clear.

The first thing we must do is keep the peace.

Do you agree, Buell? Absolutely, sir.

There are three important steps to peace negotiations.

No fraternisation and no discharge of firearms.

Yes, sir.

And the third step, sir? The third step? It's not important.

What is important is to have a conference.

No peace without a conference, Slater.

Buell, inform all interested parties a conference will be held here in one hour from now. Yes, sir.

Beyond that, my contract - I got it here - says that I am going to deliver, and I am gonna deliver, come hell or high water.

You gotta get them damn foreigners outta here.

Mr. Wallingham... I am a taxpayer and a good Republican, which means I am entitled to army escort.

I'm damn well gonna get army escort or I'm gonna raise hell...

Mr. Wallingham. What?

I will not tolerate profanity in the presence of ladies.

Oh...

I think we understand your position by now.

The next party to be heard from will be... uh... uh... Who are you?

My name is Clayton Howell, sir, commander of the Denver Free Militia.

What do you want? I'd like to inform the colonel that a lot of us here are members of the Denver Saloon Owners' Association, and we intend to receive that there cargo and take it home with us.

The winter nights are long and lonely in Denver, and a man is sorely in need of comfort.

Startin' next month, that there sun is gonna be a-settin' at 5.33pm, and she's gonna rise 11 dark hours later...

All right. I think we can leave the sun out of this.

What are you doing here, Oracle? Colonel.

I'm the guide to the Denver Free Militia.

It is my duty to see that this precious cargo and these good people...

Thank you, Oracle. I'm well aware of the duties of a guide.

You're next. Kevin O'Flaherty at your service, sir.

President of the Irish Teamsters. With your permission, I have here a resolution containing 14 points, which I'd like to read prior to these labour negotiations.

Labour negotiations?

If our demands are not satisfied, your lordship, we intend to strike, as nasty as that may seem.

By damn, you just try... Wallingham!

Oh.

I am not gonna abandon 10 of my wagons to them Indians.

Who said you had to? You've got the Denver Free Militia to drive your wagons.

What?

Excuse me, sir.

The militia couldn't do it, unless we took a soldier to guard each wagon.

They're the worst bar flies in Denver. And who's gonna guard the soldiers?

I see what you mean. Our supply of temperance men is extremely limited.

Yes, sir. It sure is.

Well, since you have nothing further to say, Mr. O'Flaherty, sit down.

I call on Mrs. Massingale. Thank you very much, Colonel.

The temperance movement has now spread right across this great nation.

Founded in the year...

Mrs. Massingale, we are not here for a history of the movement.

Have you anything further to say? I have.

Dump it, I say. Dump this entire vile cargo into the river right now.

By damn, madam... Mr. Wallingham!

Did you get that, Captain?

Not a word, but I have an interpreter standing by. Sims!

Yes, sir.

Sims, find out what they're doing here, why they left the reservation.

Hunt buffalo. Minding own business.

Then white Long Knives come along and attack peaceful Indian.

Paper say peaceful Indian.

We go home, but first you give us presents.

What'd he say? He said

"Hunt buffalo in peace, minding their own business, when white Long Knives attack." What?

Yes, sir. But they're willin' to go home now, sir.

Well, tell him he's made a wise decision.

Yes, sir.

Where are presents for us?

You give me 20 wagons whiskey or I don't take my braves home.

Period.

Yes? What'd he say?

He said he would like to give you a present, sir.

That's fine. But he hasn't got one, sir.

I see. Thank him, but tell him no present is necessary.

Wait... I'll tell him.

All right, then. Tomorrow morning, this whole, uh... this, uh...

We're leaving for Denver.

You will take your orders from Sergeant Major Buell as to starting time, disposition of marching order, camp sites, et cetera.

Any decisions to be made will be made by me.

Sergeant. Conference stands adjourned!


Buell. Yes, sir?

What are those Indians doing here?

I don't know, sir. How long have they been following us?

I was gonna bring that matter to the colonel's attention.

They've been trailing us all day, sir.

Shall I take a squad and run 'em off, sir?

Buell, the Indian wars are over.

These Sioux are wards of the government.

How would that look in Washington? The colonel has a point, sir.

Get the interpreter. Find out why they're still here. And we'll camp early tonight.

Field quarters assembly? Have the sentries out before dark.

Carter, check the rest of the sentries and find Sergeant Buell.

(water splashing)


Phillips, what's going on here?

Compliments of Mrs. Massingale, sir.

She has use of another tub, sir, and she thought the colonel looked dirty, sir.

Kind of scroungy and mucky, sir.

And she thought... she sort of...

Yes, sir.

Colonel Gearhart, sir. Yes?

All sentries on their posts, sir.

The Denver militia has retired for the evening.

Where's Sergeant Buell?

At the Indian camp with the interpreter.

That's all, Carter. Yes, sir.

Sir? Come in, Buell.

The report from the interpreter, sir...

He, uh...

Well?

There might be a little confusion, sir.

Confusion? Confusion. Yes, sir.

The interpreter was only sure they said "Hunt buffalo in peace, minding own business, when white Long Knives attack."

"Willing to go home. Would like to give you present."

Sergeant, get me Oracle Jones.

Yes, sir.

Friend.

Go ahead. Don't beat around the bush. Find out why the hell they're still here.

He says he's waitin' for the presents.

Presents? Wait a...

Well, tell him we don't want any presents, and thank him.

Not for you, Colonel. For him.

Just a minute. He said "Hunt buffalo in peace, minding own business..."

Sims! Yes, sir.

You're under arrest. Yes, sir.

Suppose I refuse to give them presents? They won't go home.

Well, find out what they want.

The chief says he wants 20 wagons of... minne wakan... crazy water.

20 wagons of whiskey?

That chief... he's a real boozer, Colonel.

Well, you tell him no.

No one's gonna blackmail the United States Army!

Tell him to pack up his braves and get back where they come from. I'll tell him.

White chief... Indian chief... meet... as friends.

Leave as friends.

No crazy water, no whiskey.

Go home in peace... But go home!

Sergeant. Yes, sir.


Hallelujah!

There! Now I see it!


Frank! Hold up there, Frank!

Frank, come sundown you head your wagons in towards Quicksand Bottoms.

Why? We'll be campin' there tonight.

No, we ain't. Not this train.

Well, sure, Frank. You just suit yourself.

That's a waste of time and horsepower.

I'll just light out for Denver on my lonesome.

Wait a minute, Oracle. You seen somethin'

Well now, I don't mind tellin' you things is just beginnin' to come through.

What? What? Can't say.

Got somethin' to do with Quicksand Bottoms?

Yep.

Rafe! Rafe! When we get to Quicksand Bottoms, head in.

We're gonna camp there tonight. Huh?

When we get to Quicksand Bottoms, head in. We're gonna camp there tonight.

OK, Frank.

Militia, halt!

Get that circle formed in there and keep it tight.

Stay away from the edge of that swamp. Look out!

Come on, move it up there. Close it up tight!

Stay away from the edge of that swamp. Look out!

All right! All right! Come on, the rest of ya! Watch out!

Frank! You'd better come quick!

The Irish have gone on strike and they've taken 10 of the wagons.

Clayton! Go and rescue that precious booze. Form up your men.

Militia! Form up in a column of fours! Hup!

Sir, the teamsters have finally gone on strike.

They've taken 10 wagons and formed a circle.

Where's Wallingham? He's gettin' the militia together, sir.

I've put a platoon between them and the ladies.

The ladies? They're supporting the strike, sir.

It's quite possible that violence is imminent.

Come down from there, you alien radical!

Capitalist! Anarchist!

Hold your positions, ladies.

You finally got here, did ya? I want you to get this damn mess straightened out.

You! Just what are you and your ladies up to this time?

Merely exercising our right to peaceful assembly, as guaranteed by the Constitution, which you, an army officer, are sworn to uphold.

O'Flaherty.

We're just honest workmen, your lordship, exercising our God-given right to refuse to work.

Hah! You're a pack of cowards, hidin' behind the skirts of these women.

Besides that, you're a pack of Irish thieves. They stole 10 of my wagons.

I demand you do somethin' about it. Now, calm yourself, Mr. Wallingham.

I can see your wagons. They don't look stolen to me.

Well, they're as good as stolen, by damn!

I must remind you, sir, there are ladies present.

Damn right they're present. I want 'em removed.

I'm sorry, Mr. Wallingham, but this is obviously a labour dispute.

Much as I hate to admit it, Mrs. Massingale and Mr. O'Flaherty are within their rights.

What about my rights as a taxpayer and a good Republican?

I'll protect your wagons and cargo, but under army regulations I cannot...

All right, men. Enough of this tin-soldier lawyer talk.

Club down them Irishmen. Club 'em down and tote them women out.

Slater, take charge.

You'll meet force with force to whatever extent is necessary.

Companies A and B, move up! Ho!

Draw carbines! Ho!

Come on, get in there! What are you waitin' for?

Uh... be reasonable, Frank.

We can't fight the United States Army. It wouldn't look good.

All right, Gearhart. I'm holding you responsible for every one of my wagons.

I accept the responsibility. Buell! Sir!

We'll camp here tonight. Pick a site. Yes, sir. Field order 138, sir?

Yes, sir.

My congratulations, Mrs. Massingale. A brilliant manoeuvre, flawlessly executed.

Thank you, Colonel. I'm very flattered.

Maintain order, Slater.

Ladies.

Mrs. Massingale, ma'am...

Would you mind telling me just what you expect to gain by all this?

Time, for one thing.

But you can't keep my wagons immobilised for ever.

We'll see.

Would you mind telling me what your next move might be?

Well, apart from our non-violent picket line, we have no plans.

Except to have our meeting at the Indian camp tonight.

A what? A rally.

A rally, Frank.

Hold your positions, ladies. Come along, Louise.

A rally at the Indian camp.

We will save, we will save, we will save another soul, hallelujah We will save, we will save, we will save another soul And if the road is rocky and a man should start to slip Man should start to slip, man should start to slip And if the road is rocky and a man should start to slip We will take a better grip And if a man gets weak and takes a bottle from the shelf Bottle from the shelf, bottle from the shelf And if a man gets weak and takes a bottle from the shelf We will save him from himself We will save...

We will save, we will save, we will save another soul And if the road is rocky and a man should start to slip Man should start to slip...

What'd he say? He says, uh...

"Good to sign white squaw's paper. Good for peace."

We will save, we will save, we will save another soul And if the road is rocky and a man should start to slip Man should start to slip, man should start to slip...

If it's the last thing I ever do, I'll have that entire band transferred to Alaska.

What are they doing now? Singing, sir.

And signing pledges. I don't believe it.

As far as I can tell, they've got 50 signed already.

Go back there, Sergeant. Get me one of those pledges. I wanna see it.

How can I get one, sir?

Yes, sir!

We will save, we will save, we will save another soul And if a man is saved, there are others still to come...

Can you handle the rest of this, Louise?

You can count on me, Mrs. Massingale.

I'm gonna hand out equipment to Group B.

Good luck, Cora.

Here, sir. Just a crazy mark, but each one of 'em's marked different.

That woman! How many?

81 now, sir. 81?

Get back there, Buell. And tell Slater to cover his flanks.

Yes, sir.

Chisel.

Axe.

Hammer.

Where's that Massingale woman?

She's down there somewhere, Frank, takin' advantage of ignorant savages.

There oughta be a law agin it. There oughta be somethin'

I don't trust her.

You just keep your pants hitched, Frank.

Chief says..."No more peace."

What is it, Sergeant? What happened, Sergeant?

The Indians have captured the women. What?

One minute they were all signing pledges and then...

How did that idiot Slater ever let it happen?

On behalf of Captain Slater, sir, it's only fair to state that if the women hadn't started singing hymns and making all that... racket...

Sir, the Indians disarmed my men and took the ladies captive.

I know what they did, Slater.

They moved fast, we were outnumbered, there was nothing I could do.

Sergeant. Sir!

Alert the bugler. Rouse the camp. Prepare for battle.

Yes, sir! Sir, any rash move on our part may endanger the lives of the women.

Dammit, I can't just twiddle my thumbs. No, sir!

Sir, the sergeant's right, sir.

An attack right now might be most ill-advised... sir.

Why is he here? He's a symbol of their good faith.

Good faith?

They wanna bargain with us. Bargain?

20 wagons of whiskey in exchange for the women.

20 wagons? Yes, sir. You see, the Indians...

Can he understand us? Not a word, sir.

20 wagons comes out to about... three and seven-eighths women per wagon.

I think that was it, or maybe the interpreter was confused.

Slater. Yes, sir.

There's only one course of action now. I am declaring martial law!

I say you can't do it!

No tinhorn colonel's gonna come here and declare martial law.

If you don't shut up, Mr. Wallingham, my first step will be to lock you up.

Gentlemen, this bickering can lead to nothing constructive.

Since you cannot take military action against the Indians and you cannot negotiate with them, there is only one course of action open to us.

We must accede to their demands and give them the whiskey without delay.

Giving whiskey to Indians is strictly forbidden by the army regulations so dear to you, Mrs. Massingale.

Not if the Indians don't drink the whiskey.

What's to stop the Indians from drinking whiskey?

Precisely.

I have their pledges. One hundred signed pledges with this one on the top signed by Chief 5 Barrels himself. That's his mark.

She's right. That's his mark.

Do they get the whiskey?

It's my whiskey, and you're not going to touch one drop of it!

Listen, Frank... Quiet!

In that case, I have no choice but to destroy all the whiskey right now.

You're bluffin'

Oh...

Am I?

There is a woman hidden in each and every one of those wagons, awaiting my order by code to start smashing the barrels of this vile cargo.

Madam, you lie.

Indeed?

Ladies of Group B...

Frank, will you keep your pants hitched?

The signal was to be a hymn, but that's not necessary.

Now, I'll just tell them to begin.

You wouldn't do that. Ladies of Group B, you may begin!

Puncture those barrels!

No, wait! Just a moment, ladies!

You let her smash one barrel and I'll have those brass buttons ripped off your chest!

I'm a taxpayer and a good Republican! You say that one more time and I'll bust you right in the nose!

Are you threatening me? Now sit down!

You hear that? Sit down! Come on, Frank. Sit down.

And shut up!

Mrs. Massingale, sit down.

Sit down!

And stay down.

Ladies of Group B, get out of those wagons!

Right now!

Sergeant, put this down. Yes, sir.

The United States Army confiscates 20 wagons of the Wallingham train.

There! You hear that? Confiscation of private property, in which case I shall be repaid in full. Go ahead, declare martial law.

Martial law to take effect at daybreak. You declare it right now!

Don't you tell me when to declare martial law.

Slater. Take that symbol of good faith back to Chief 5 Barrels.

And, Slater, knock down the price.

Buell. Sir!

This meeting stands adjourned.

Get outta here!

Go on! Get outta here, you bunch of vandals!

Get off of my property!

Get off of my bed! Get outta here!

Get outta that wagon! Get outta there!

Out! Out!

I thought I heard ya, Frank. (chuckles)

He, he, he...

You got me into this, you soothsaying sot.

And now I'll get you out of it, Frank. In fact, it's all set.

Everything's ready, except one more chore I gotta do right now.

Believe me, Frank, you just trust old Oracle.

Me and my Billy girl is gonna fix it all up.

Come on now, Billy girl. Take me slow and take me true.


Colonel?

Go away!

Madam, I don't know what you're up to, but whatever it is I don't wanna hear about it.

I've come to tell you how truly sorry I am for what I've done.

Thank you, and good night.

Colonel, do you realise what will happen when word gets out that you've given 20 wagons of whiskey to Sioux Indians?

I realise!

20 wagons confiscated from a taxpayer and a good Republican.

Don't you tell me what he is or I'll bust you on the nose!

Colonel, those cords again. Just let me...

Get away from my cords!

If you just relax and let the blood flow...

My blood can flow on its own.

Mrs. Massingale, I don't know what your plans are for tomorrow, but judging from experience, you'd better get some rest.

How can I rest after what I've done to you?

Try!

Oh...

My selfishness, my obstinacy, my stupidity in not listening to your advice.

I must agree with you.

It's all my fault you're in this position.

Well, crying isn't going to help.

Mrs. Massingale...

Mrs. Massingale!

You needn't look so shocked.

Plato, Augustus, Alexander... even George Washington took occasional spirits in medicinal amounts.

There's nothing wrong with limited libation under emotional stress.

Your entire career is ruined!

Well... I suppose there'll be some criticism.

Criticism? You'll be crucified!

The press, the public, the War Department.

Horace Greeley.

Oh...

Well, if I can save the lives of 27 women, I...

I'd gladly sacrifice my career.

After all, what is it? Only 19 years of service.

With Grant at Vicksburg. With Thomas at Nashville.

17 Indian campaigns, Laramie to Fort Hall.

One more year.

281 dollars and 25 cents a month, pension.

Sergeant Buell, 27 dollars and 50 cents a month.

Every month.

19 years.

And all that time, not once have I ever... never have I ever met anyone like...

Like me?

Oh, well, I'll just resign gracefully. Anyway, I'll resign.

Well, at least you'll still have your beloved West.

I hate the West. Oh, dear!

Dust, wind, Indians.

My stubbornness, my obstinacy, my selfishness.

Now, now, Cora... uh... Mrs. Massingale.

If only I'd listened to you. If only!

Easy, easy, Mrs. Massingale... Cora.

Do you think you could ever forgive me, Thaddeus?

Well, I...

I could try.

Cora...

Couldn't we forget all this? I mean...

I mean... just forget the whole thing... Cora?

Colonel Gearhart! One moment, Slater.

Come in, Slater.

Captain Slater reporting, sir. Stand up, we'll march to Denver No more wine or beer Someone's singing. Go on, Slater.

Uh... Chief 5 Barrels said he'd take 15 barrels.

I came back with eight and he said 13.

I think that was the number.

The language barrier is very difficult, sir.

Did you reach any agreement? 10 wagons of whiskey.

10 wagons? For all the women.

Good work, Slater. Thank you, sir.

What's he doing here? The same, sir. A symbol of good faith.

Are you sure he can't understand us?

Not a word. That's all, Slater.

Oh... The Indians would like to have... uh...

Mrs. Massingale present for the exchange, sir.

What for? Our symbol of good faith.

Tell Chief 5 Barrels I'd be happy to join my brave ladies.

Yes, ma'am. I'll make all the arrangements for the exchange. sir.

Good night, Slater.

It's scheduled for dawn.

Oh...

Thaddeus, isn't it wonderful? 10 wagons.

That's the exact number held by the Irish teamsters.

You're not gonna have to confiscate any of Mr. Wallingham's wagons after all.

Yes... well...

It's a long day tomorrow, Cora, and you need rest.

I'll take you back to your camp.

Oh... Oh, I can get back by myself.

You're sure? Oh, Thaddeus...

You're so kind and generous... and brave.

Good night, Thaddeus.

Stand up, we'll march to Denver No more wine or beer...

We shall save We shall save We shall save another soul Hallelujah Frank.

Huh? Frank, she's all fixed up.

What?

Frank, listen carefully. This is important.

Frank! Hey, Frank!

You've been drinkin'

Frank, listen carefully. If you could get your wagon train outta here, if you could cross the river so as nobody, no Injuns, no women or army could follow, would you do it?

How? Wait a minute!

You'd have to give up them 10 wagons on the exchange.

Now, here's what we do. We take the rest of the wagons and we ride across Quicksand Bottoms. None of them people could see us.

Hold it. We'd get across the river...

Hold on! Just a damn minute now.

Nobody can cross Quicksand Bottoms cos they'd sink.

We can. There's a way, Frank.

I found it five years ago.

A bunch of scalp-hungry Injuns chased me right up to the edge.

I knew for sure they'd get me that night if I didn't get across.

I just pointed my Billy girl south and let her go. She didn't miss a step.

I did the same thing tonight. She took me right across.

I've staked out a trail across the Bottoms with my red flannel.

We can't miss it.

We'll take all the wagons you got and go across, a-pullin' up the stakes as we go.

They won't even know what happened to us.

Once across the Bottoms, it's a straight shoot to Denver over flat, open country.

We'll be free and clear. (Wallingham chuckles)

Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Sh! Hush up!

Yeah... My sentiments exactly.

Hallelujah.

Here's one.

Here's another one.

Here... and here's one.

But what are they? I don't know.

But does it look familiar? It looks like Mr. Jones' underwear.

It is. Are you... are you sure?

The ladies have confirmed it. He's not wearing those underdrawers now.

They're torn to shreds and spread out on stakes all across Quicksand Bottoms.

Where's Group C?

Mrs. Massingale, have you any idea what these stakes are for?

I'm not sure, but I know what we're gonna do with them.

What? Move them.


Stay between those red markers. Don't be a-laggin' behind.

Keep your wagons up close, all of ya!

Militia, when we move out, get on the wagons.

That's the signal, sir.

All wagons ready for exchange. Platoons A and B in position.

Get down there, Buell. Send Mrs. Massingale over to the exchange point.

Mrs. Massingale! Whoa, whoa!

Mrs. Massingale, excuse me. I'm busy right now, Mr. O'Flaherty.

It's about them 10 wagons. What's the matter with them?

Nothing, mum, but they ain't whiskey. Ain't whiskey?

No, mum. Those wagons is filled with French champagne. All of 'em.

You know anything about French champagne, mum?

Well, I sipped some once on my second honeymoon in Paris.

Aye, but it was most likely cold. These bottles ain't, they're warm.

If you open a bottle of warm champagne, especially when it's been shooken up, well, it's...

You mean they explode? Like a Marsh gun, about a .58 calibre.

We gotta handle those bottles like dynamite.

That's why they hired us Irish teamsters. It's our business.

What's gonna happen when them savages get them wagons?

What's gonna happen to that champagne?

Explosions? Right.

I just thought someone oughta know.

Have you told Colonel Gearhart yet? Oh, no, mum. I've been afeard to.

What's holding you up, Mrs. Massingale?

I'm sorry, Sergeant Buell. Excuse me, Mr. O'Flaherty.

Mrs. Massingale, we have a bit of a problem.

Chief 5 Barrels insists on taking the first wagon, and his two brothers-in-law the second and third wagons, and Elks-Runner the fourth wagon. That leaves nobody in charge on their side.

Me in charge.

You? You speak our tongue?

I speak with straight tongue. Me in charge good. Drink later.

We'll agree to your taking charge on one condition, that I stay at the exchange point the whole time.

Me there... whole time. Good.

One moment, please, Captain.

Mrs. Massingale, I'll never forgive myself for having failed you.

10 wagonloads of whiskey to the Indians.

I've destroyed the crusade. Not quite yet.

What? Give me a hatpin.

Hatpin?

Our goal is still in sight, Louise. Courage, ladies!

First three ladies, front and centre.

There they go, sir. Three women starting across...

Sir... sir! What's the matter?

That Massingale woman. She's heading for the exchange point.

Why's that symbol of good faith there? I can't say, sir.

Roll the first wagon. First wagon... roll!


What's he trying to do, bolting out of there like that?

Roll wagon two. Wagon two... roll!

Ladies, move out!

Wagon two, roll!

Next three ladies, front and centre.

Tell 'em not to bolt like that. Our teams'll get out of control.

Tell those Indians not to bolt like that.


Roll wagon three. Wagon three, roll!

Roll!

Next three ladies, front and centre!

Well, move out. Go!


Don't let those idiots bolt that way. Roll the wagons slowly!

No, not those wagons. Hold those wagons back!

Hold on to those teams! There's gonna be a runaway! Hold 'em, I say!

Whoa! Somebody tell them Indians not to go bolting out there like that!

Wagon four, roll!

Next three ladies, front and centre! Hold the wagons back!

Hold those teams back!

Hold those wagons! Hold those wagons!

Don't bolt!


Hold 'em back! Hold 'em back!

Carter! Cut those teams off and bring 'em back!

Ho!

Ho!


Look out! Look out! We got a stampede!

Hold on to that team!

Don't let 'em follow them other horses!

No, not that way!

You're going the wrong way!

They're gonna stampede! You'll never get 'em back!

Pull them up! Pull them up there!

Hey, you! Pull them up! You're going the wrong way!

The whole Wallingham train!


Hey! Hey, you!

Turn 'em, turn 'em!

Head 'em back to the quicksands.


Uh... company, halt.

Whoa! Whoa!

Get 'em on through there! Follow them red flags!

All right! Follow them red flags as you go.

Stay right along in line with them. Follow them little red flags there.

Follow them markers!

Stay right in line with them. Follow them little red flags and...

Hey, you! No, not that way!

Frank! Look out, Frank!

Whoa! Whoa!

Rafe, Rafe! Come over here and give me a hand with this thing!

Help me up!

Get 'em outta here!

OK, take 'em out! Take 'em outta here.

Go on, take 'em out!


Tell the colonel the Indians are firing on us!

Return fire!


Don't shoot! Don't shoot!


Don't shoot!

I beg your pardon!

What do you think you're doing to me?

My God! They've got Mrs. Massingale!

Sir! Sir, they're waving a flag of truce!

It's a woman's petticoat. Charge!

Thaddeus! You!

We go home now.

You speak my tongue? I speak with straight tongue.

We go home, hunt buffalo.

Peaceful Indian. Forget presents.

You hunt buffalo in peace. You hunt deer of green forest in peace.

You go home in peace. But go home!

Oh...

Hey. Hey!

Hey! Hey!

Get 'em outta there.

Rafe! Rafe! Throw me that rope!

Yeah. Get a rope!

Hold what you got, Frank. I'm a-comin' I'll help ya. Hold what you got, Frank!

I'll be right there with you.

Make it fast to that tree.

Get the slack outta that line.

Tighten up on it.

Now, hold on that. Hold it! Hold it!


Companies A and B of the cavalry escorted the ex-temperance marchers back to their husbands and hungry children at Fort Russell.

It is to be assumed some time passed before the Indians were able to regain their customary composure.

But it is known that the exploits of their journey became tribal legend, to be told over and over again, from generation to generation, with slight revisions.

The Denver Free Militia dissolved, never to march again.

And, of course, the strike of the Irish teamsters failed, and the Wallingham Freighting Company went bankrupt, having no visible assets.

You know, Frank, some Injuns told me once...

Reliable Injuns, Frank.

They said a Cheyenne brave and his pony sunk right here, and durned if they didn't ooze up again just as natural-lookin' and as pretty as you please.

Oh, they was dead, of course, but right near the top where you could grab easy.

It might be worth waitin' for, eh, Frank?

Frank?

There. You see?

So ended the great disaster at Quicksand Bottoms.

Oh, yes. Mrs. Massingale.

Cora Templeton Massingale retired from participation in temperance movements.

A military wedding was held at Fort Russell.

As it turned out, it was a double wedding.

A homestead claim was filed by Mr. Jones and Mr. Wallingham on a piece of land encompassing the entire Quicksand Bottoms area.

Frank? Frank.

Frank! What?

Frank!

Come on. Pull, Frank.

Careful, careful, careful.


Oracle... Oracle.

Oracle. Oracle!

Oracle. Oracle.

Hallelujah!

There! Now I see it!

Glory, hallelujah! Hallelujah!

It's not to be denied that there were occasional re-emergences of whiskey kegs, which kept Mr. Jones and Mr. Wallingham, uh... uh... quite content for a number of years.

And in spite of all predictions, shaggy hair, and busy beavers to the contrary, the winter of 1867 turned out to be the driest and warmest on record.

Such was the year, oh, pioneer West, and the days of the Hallelujah Trail.

Don't know where we're goin' or where we been Hallelujah Trail It's written in the dust and blown by the wind Hallelujah Trail You can't tell a horse from a stubborn mule Hallelujah Trail You can't tell a hero from a doggone fool Hallelujah Trail Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelu, Hallelujah Trail Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah

Early in the morning, almost day Hallelujah Trail Rise and shine, we're on our way Hallelujah Trail Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelu, Hallelujah Trail Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelu, Hallelujah Trail!