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Come on, little brother. Checkout time. Yeah. Everyone's well behind us, Senator. When we cross the finishing line, we'd best look like champions. Howdy. Nice morning, don't you think? You went over it. You went off the wagon trail. Cross-country race, ain't it? Well, I didn't ride 1,100 miles to finish second place. Why did you, then? This race is mine, cowboy. Hyah! Ready when you are, brother. Let 'er buck. Yee-haw! Based on the Life of Frank T Hopkins Whiskey. That's right. I don't like your style, Hopkins. Hey! You made it. Mustangs don't belong in races with thoroughbreds. If you ask me, they belong in fertilizer. Mister... You can say anything you want about me. I'm gonna have to ask you not to talk about my horse that way. Call it. Tails. Mr. Hopkins... Private Abernathy. With the 7th. Major Whitside, 2nd Battalion, 7th Cavalry encampment, at Wounded Knee Creek, sir. Carry on. Mr. Hopkins... Right now, huh? Wounded Knee Creek December 29, 1890 Dispatch rider! "Major Whitside, 7th cavalry, commanding battalion in the field. General Miles directs me to say that a solution to the Sioux uprising must be found at once. Disarm the Indians. Take every precaution to prevent their escape. If they choose to fight, subdue them. " Dispatch, sir. They've been doing it all night. There's gonna be an uprising. No, soldier. It's a ghost dance. That's all. Praying to their ancestors for help. Boy. Where are they taking us? They called you Blue Child. I knew your mother. Get back behind the tent line. Come on, now. You don't need that. Come on. You know what army this is, Big Foot? This is the 7th. Yellow Hair's men. Do you remember Pahaska? Yeah, you probably ate his liver. Hey, you. Come here. Give me the gun. Black Coyote is deaf. He cannot hear your orders. Please... Let go of it! What are you doing, Bronco? Go on, there! What are you looking at? 27 Congressional medals were awarded at a place called Wounded Knee. This was the proud 7th who fought at the Little Bighorn Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show Eight Months Later and saw their great general killed in battle. The Battle of Wounded Knee would not be that way. On that day, outnumbered by warriors, but undaunted in spirit, the brave 7th held their ground. Hopkins! Get up. Hidalgo's up next. Hey, Phoebe Anne. Get your own gun. Making sure you don't have live shot in there. Damn gun's loaded, and so are you. - I'm getting out of Cleveland. - Good. 'Cause we're in Boston. Come here. Remember? You're the good guy. Who has come out to parlay with Buffalo Bill? Could it be a real and living war chief of the red race? Chief eagle Horn. Mothers, hold your children close. This is not an act. You are beholding the last of the wild hostiles, the red pirates of the prairies. He who scalped many a pioneer on the bloody warpath that led to the winning of the West. Now, this is the man whose power took the life of the great General Custer on the day that Colonel Cody was too late. And that, gentlemen, is why they call me Texas Jack. Far Rider, I must speak to Long Hair. Please speak United States for me. Chief says his people are vanishing faster than he can earn silver with you. - Can't this wait? - Curb your tongue, Nate! Let the chief speak. Chief eagle Horn says that our... his nation's hoop is broken and scattered. The buffalo herds have been destroyed. Elk and deer are gone. And now the government is rounding up our wild horses, and they plan to shoot them, too, before the first snows. They put a price on the native horses too great for a poor Indian to meet. Chief says that perhaps his people have lost their lands, but not their spirit. And he asks you for your help. Tell my dear friend eagle Horn that the mustang breed has known its day and served its purpose. If my chief wishes a fine horse, I will give to him a thoroughbred steed of his chosen color. Yes. He'll do whatever he can. HOWDY NEW YORK BUFFALO BILL'S WILD WEST Behold the famed Cheyenne-to-Deadwood stage line. What? What? Heavens, folks! It's an ambush. What think you of the show, Aziz? Bravely, the pioneer meets the savages... Jack, what are you doing? Hold on to it. - Get your foot up there, Frank. - This is the real West... and not for the faint of heart. And now, folks, you remember them, rough-riding Frank Hopkins and his horse, Hidalgo! Galveston, Texas, to Rutland, Vermont, is over 1,800 miles. But Frank Hopkins and his painted wonder made the ride in 30 days. Can cross the country in 30 days, but he can't find his horse backstage. The wounded-soldier trick! Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for the wounded-soldier trick. You're lucky this gun's got blanks. Let go of me, you rabbit-eared... And the horse - drags the wounded soldier home. - Let go of me! Sheikh Al Riyadh is keeper of the Muniqi stallion. His excellency's royal stables preserve the purest equine bloodline in the world. And he wishes to invest in the Cody enterprise? The Sheikh of Sheikhs, His Greatness, is beyond investment. His pride is in his family horses. You see, Mr. Cody, the sheikh's own stallion, Al-Hattal, is the greatest living endurance-race champion of all time. The sheikh saw your show in Paris. His honor was deeply insulted by your claim to exhibit the world's greatest endurance horse and rider. Hidalgo is a legend, my friends. He has never lost a long-distance race. In America, perhaps. On deserts that women from my country could cross on foot. Frank, you just missed some compliments about your horse. Five minutes, Billy. Gentlemen, I present rough-riding Frank Hopkins. - Mr. Hopkins, a pleasure. - Mr. Cody, His excellency... - Sit down before you fall down. ... you remove the title that you have bestowed on this American horse. What's going on here, Bill? Perhaps you have never heard of the great horse race of the Bedouin. It has been held annually for more than 1,000 years. A 3,000-mile race. Across the Arabian Desert. Along the Persian Gulf and Iraq. And across the sands of Syria to Damascus. It is known as the "Ocean of Fire. " Our office will accept your entry at $1,000 in Spanish silver. The winner's purse makes the victor very honored. Very... How do we say? Very rich, Mr. Cody. These boys are serious, Frank. His greatness invites you and your horse to enter in the challenge if you will not remove the title that you have bestowed on this impure animal. Impure? He is pure mustang, friend. What shall I tell His excellency? You can go tell him to pound sand for all I care. Tequila. To be more exact, my Arabian friend. Gentlemen, the third act is starting. I suggest you take your seats. A very wise choice you have made, Mr. Hopkins. I don't think that was a compliment, Frank. Long Hair has promised me rock candy in Pittsburgh. Our good red and blue days are over. Perhaps all of us will die in this show of the great Cody. You have a chance to go save yourself, Far Rider. Hidalgo is not the horse he used to be, Chief. There's nothing wrong with that horse. Is it better to perish here in this Wild West, as Cody tells it? I saw what happened at Wounded Knee Creek. I carried the orders. I call you Far Rider, not because of your great races and your fine pony, but because you are one who rides far from himself, and wishes not to look home. Until you do, you are neither white man nor Indian. You are lost. You think we got one more in us? Nah, me neither. Hell, I don't even know who Frank Hopkins is no more, brother. A hundred of us put in our 10 coin. Chief eagle Horn put in 20. Don't waste our money, Hopkins. There goes Hopkins. The house of Sheikh Riyadh will be greatly honored. Bertolt, accommodate Mr. Hopkins and his horse. Halt! Are you all right, sir? Ice is a precious commodity at sea, my friend. My gin might go warm for the sake of your misfortune. Much obliged. But I'd take a warm gin over ice anytime, mister. Major, actually. Major Davenport. Yes. Oh. I believe you already know my wife, Lady Anne. She tells me you put on quite a Wild West display down there in steerage. You handled yourself with aplomb. Well done. Now, tell me, Mr. Hopkins... Is it true that you're en route to Aden to enter your horse in the famous race? Well, I can't think of any other reason to cross the big water, ma'am. Splendid. He's the real item, isn't he? Have you ever killed any red Indians? Just one. A long time ago. Do you know who you'll be racing against, Mr. Hopkins? Yeah. Pretty near a hundred Arabians is the word. It's not just 100 Arabians. It's 100 of the finest and purest horses ever bred on the sands of the Nedj. There's Al-Hattal, the sheikh's champion. Al Amir of Syria is entering Kusma, the blue mare. And then there's Camria. The red racer who descends from the great Al-Jebla. The best. Who owns that one? Queen of Sheba? No, Mr. Hopkins. I do. Lady Davenport has lived among the Bedouin. She's fluent in Arabic, Kurdistani. And what's that African dialect? - Tuareg. - Yes, right. Tell me, Mr. Hopkins, what breed is your stud? Hidalgo's a mustang, ma'am. Oh! Mustang? From the Spanish mesteņo, meaning untamed. That's right. Horse of the red Indian. Small, hearty. Mixed blood. Of Spanish origin. Mixed. Well, I think I'll turn in. Thanks for the gin. And the ice. Nice meeting you, sir. Ma'am. Good night, Mr. Hopkins. I find him rather ingenuous and charming. Don't you, Annie? Sorry, darling? Godspeed to you all. Win one for the crown, Annie! The major prefers to stay at port and guard the ice chamber. Have you never seen a slave market, Mr. Frank? Al-Hattal. Equine perfection. He sure looks like a handful. The Prince is a fine young man of pedigree, educated in the mission school. I have chosen him to ride Al-Hattal. Why can you not accept...? Father... I pray only for your happiness. Be careful, then, Father. Because I am happiest on a horse, riding where females are forbidden. There is a tempest in my tent. But it has come in the form of my cherished daughter to upset my failing pancreas. The Aden caravan has arrived. The good Lady Davenport...? Yes. And an American on a horse of most unusual colour. The cowboy. Let in the light. Well, what do you make of it so far? Too late to turn back now. Very wise to tie your horse, Mr. Hopkins. If he were to cover an Arab mare, it would be viewed as a most inviolable blemish. The foal would need to be destroyed before touching the ground. As would the offending sire. You hear that? Keep your pride tucked. The Rub Al-Khali. The empty Quarter. It is but the first march of the great race. Alas, most of the riders do not even get halfway. Last year, 40 men perished, roasted alive before reaching Iraq. The fortunate few cross Allah's Frying Pot, then must pray they do not bear witness to the jinni of the West. Thank you, sir. That's mighty interesting. Ah! Where the old ones speak of the sand devil who guards the secrets of the passage to the sea. Those who reach the gulf waters travel west across Syria where the sands shift. East becomes west. West becomes south. What looks like sand to you soon becomes the poison pits. Men and horses fall through the air and are boiled thus. Get out of here, mister. Leave me be. This is not possible! You see, I was Sheikh bin Riyadh's goat herder. I was charged with the crime of stealing milk. As punishment, I have been assigned to the American and his horse. You're working for me? It was this or be removed of my left hand. The future will tell if I have chosen poorly. To cross Syria to Damascus, one must face hundreds of miles of salt where no food can be found. Men go mad! I can see that. I pray to Allah, the All-Compassionate, that he will give you the merciful wisdom to go home. You know horses? Goats. That'll help. In the name of Allah, I welcome you into my tent as my guest. If his excellence were to touch an infidel, he would lose his ability to foretell the future. Oh. Sorry. Most foreigners find our coffee to be too potent. Too... Back home we toss a horseshoe in the pot. Stands up straight, coffee's ready. Shall we play at cards? No, I ain't too much of a gambler, sir. To the contrary. You are gambling with your very life in this great race. I had five sons once. Three were killed in the raids. One perished in this very race six years ago. The other was swallowed by the quicksand of the Hammad. I'm now a man with no sons. Just... ...one lowly daughter. Please. Ignore her presence. I am greatly pleased that you have accepted my challenge. But I must warn you. Never before has a foreigner partaken in the great race. Some here are angry. I'm not here to insult anybody, sir. I'm just here to race. You may smoke if you wish. Oh, well, don't mind if I do. The winner's purse in the Ocean of Fire exceeds $100,000 in American currency, Mr. Hopkins. But that matters very little to me. What matters to my house is honor. Our culture revolves around our sacred horses, Mr. Hopkins. It is written in the Koran. "For they were born of the south winds, and sculpted from essence by Allah. " On cold nights, my wives sleep in the stable tents so that Al-Hattal is comfortable and appeased. Jaffa. Show Mr. Hopkins to his tent. He needs his rest. All right. Thank you. Oh, Mr. Hopkins. Please. I will amend the winner's purse with another $10,000 if you will put that Colt pistol in the pot. That is an authentic Colt, is it not? As they say, God didn't make all men equal. Mr. Colt did. Colt did not make all men equal, Mr. Hopkins. You will find this out. Will you wager the magnificent weapon? For $10,000? I'll gamble on that. Very good, sir. Sleep well. You too. And blessed be thee. You must never eat more than one day's ration. Do you hear me? Cowboy! I will eat it myself. Hey! Quit messing with my things. Is this the symbol of your nation? Good as any. Put that away. You. Fetch water. For the horse. Okay? Go on. Hey! Get back here! Come sit down. That's a very noble deed, Mr. Rough-Riding Hopkins. Frank will do, ma'am. Mary, could we have some more tea for Mr. Hopkins, please? You're right at home here, ain't you? Well, I spent time amongst the Bedoui with my father since I was 13 years of age. Looking for good horses? Looking for the breed apart. My father spent 26 years trying to ambassador his way into the Muniqi blood. Just like his father. The Viceroy of egypt, Napoleon III. All of them pandered... when all they needed to do was up the ante. Bad poker players, the lot of them. If my mare, Camria, wins this race, I'll procure breeding rights to Al-Hattal. If I lose... ...I pay 40% of the purse to the sheikh. And you, cowboy? What are you in it for? Just the purse, ma'am. "Anne" will do. Yes, ma'am. Thanks for the tea. Frank. How good are you and your little express pony? Really? I reckon we'll both find out, ma'am. 3,000 miles from Sunday. Hey, cowboy! Every rider's camp must bear the flag of his house or nation. Yusef has made our flag. Behold it. We are pitiful. Would you get over here, Yusef? I need some more water. What did he say? He said he has no place else to go. You and me both, partner. Tell him to get some more water. Hey. You too. Why do you buy this boy, anyway? Somebody's gotta do your work, goat herder. Howdy. Last chance, cowboy. My name is Sakr. Desert law compels me to speak truthfully. I find the entry of a Western infidel sacrilege. But I trust in Allah that he'll roast 10 of us like sheep on a spit before the sun sets today. You shall be among the first. Well, good luck to you, too. The prince says maybe we should give you a head start. Nawali say, "Ride each day to sunset. Start again each dawn. Those who survive to reach the halfway camp in the Rub Al-Khali shall be rewarded with a full day's rest. A tent camp will reach halfway point before you, traveling by camel road. " Nawali say, "Strength to your horses, and may God have mercy on your souls. " Goodbye, cowboy. Fly high, my friend. Ease up. Let them go. Never beat them in the quarter-mile. Whoa, son. Ease up, brother. What are you doing here? Go back to work now. What did I tell you, little brother? It's all for show. Infidel! Do not take him! It is against the laws of the race. Best hotel in town, I reckon. Hey, cowboy! Nearly 100 miles in one day. Most impressive! This is your last chance to turn back. Hear me? You do not belong out here! Turn back at dawn. Or prepare for a death beyond your greatest fear! Tomorrow I shall not even look over my shoulder! A water hole never looked so good. What water hole would that be, sir? The cistern's dry. You must discontinue here. I suggest you take the east road back to Aden. That's not even a transit tax. Six soldiers in the middle of the Arabian desert guarding a dry well. That's unusual. I said, "The well is dry. " Okay, brother. We ain't gonna make another 10 miles without water. On the whistle. Are you bloody stupid?! Go, brother! Go! Easy, boys. Long way to Damascus. What in hellfire? Let's go, brother. Hyah! Better up your price at the next water hole, Prince. You are carried by the West Wind itself, Bin Al Reeh. How many have fallen? The report claims 39 have fallen out, and 11 were lost in the sandstorm. Wash him with cold water. I don't believe it. You survived the sandstorm. Allah must have a more severe judgment awaiting you. Thanks, partner. Daidai, we have one full day's rest before the long march to Iraq. Al-Hattal will break away from the pack. The mustang is still in, so we must maintain the pace. Do you hear me? Look at me! DIME LIBRARY BUFFALO BILL'S WILD WEST Your Excellency. - Peace be with you. - And also be with you. Bless you, Sheikh of Sheikhs. Sit, Katib. Revive thy spirit. Allah willing, I never miss the great race, Uncle. If I owned more flocks, I would bet them all. I have come to beseech you one last time. Forgive me, and allow me to share in the ownership of our forefathers' horses. You have not the discipline to be keeper of such royalty as your grandfather's horses. Least of all Al-Hattal - he is my son. Go rob pilgrims. That is your calling. Even the blessed Prophet was a raider in his time. This is blasphemy. How is the coffee? Most excellent. I am revived. If one tossed a horseshoe into the pot, do you think it would stand erect? At your age, Uncle, perhaps it is the only thing that might. Boldly spoken for a man with no wives. How is your health, Uncle? I have the blood of a warrior grandfather. Please, Mr. Frank. Listen to me. There will be no grazing for many days. That's all right. I packed some barley. Take these. What's that? Dates. Trust me. Take with you this skin. It is filled with the butter of camel. Mix it with the water for both you and your horse. It will keep you alive across the Hammad. And fear not the locusts. They are a gift from above. Not a plague, as you might believe. Why are you trying to help me? If Prince Bin Al Reeh wins the race on Al-Hattal, I become his fifth wife. The youngest of his harem. No more than a slave in his house. I do not know if you are as good as it is said. But I have faith in the painted stallion. It is said that you captured him in the wild. Badlands. Long time ago. How did you tame him? I didn't. Why do you wear that? Verily, you do not know our world. This is a cowboy's spur. Yeah. My father reads many books from the outside world. But his true enjoyment of literature, it is of Wild Bill and Calamity Jane. You're boshing me. In this Wild West, there are nomads, also. The red people. Like the Bedou, they are a horse culture. Have you seen their vanishing kind? I am their kind. My father was a cavalry scout. He fell in love with a chief's daughter. Married her. They called me Frank T. My grandmother named me Hokshelato. It means "blue child. " I would know you only as a white man. Maybe I got good at hiding my face, too. Why? You don't know our world. Look out! Foolish is a foreigner. Allah has decided that I should not sleep well these nights. You have disgraced this house. I am sickened. - It is not how it appears. - He forced you into his quarters. No, I went by my own volition. I wished only to speak with him. He did not touch your daughter, but tried to protect her from danger. I am responsible. Have you ever considered just poisoning me, Jazira? Why torture me with slow precision? Why force me to marry a man who has never looked at me? If he looks at you, I have to cut off his head. You are not yet his property. The women of the western tribes no longer wear the veil. Pray you were of a western tribe. I would not be in this position. And in the middle of the great race. Shame upon you. Shame upon you, Father. For allowing me to ride horses when no one sees. For taking me on gazelle hunts when the men make pilgrimage. You are all I have. You are my treasure. But when the eyes of the people are on the great sheikh, I am lowly. Let him go. How dare you give orders to a man in my tent. Remove a certain woman to the tent of office. No. It is not right. Wait a minute. She... Sir! It is written, Mr. Hopkins. If any of our chaste women commit lewdness with evidence against them, so shall they be taken out and stoned. And it is then by law that the father must drown his own daughter. - It wasn't her fault. - Silence, I said. - Ahmed. - All right. However, we are still far from the next cistern. And water is precious. So my decision is swift. For her trespass, my daughter will be flogged. Seven stripes at a time hence. And you. An impure unbeliever in the tent of a man who can trace his very blood back to Adam. You will be removed of your infidel self. Removed of my what? Like a stallion not worthy of breeding. Come here, skinner. We didn't do nothing, sir! I feel compassion for you. But I cannot let your fear move me. Speak honestly as a man. Did you violate my daughter's honor? No, sir. I did not! Can one believe a nonbeliever? Only fools or gamblers walk behind a strange mare, Sheikh! You can believe that! Is that a passage from the Bible? No, it's something Wild Bill said to me one night. Wild Bill? Out in Deadwood! You refer to the man known as Hickok? The master of the double six-gun? Only one Wild Bill, sir. Hickok was a true prince of pistoleers, was he not? He's pretty good with a twist draw. What did my daughter say about your horse? Well, she's a lady with an eye for horseflesh, sir. If she was my son, she would be in this race. Alas, she is not. She's a woman who has entered the sleeping quarters of an infidel. Come, skinner. You heard of the OK Corral? Ah. You were not there. Tell me about this Wyatt Earp. And the Doctor Holliday. Raiders! Free him. Come on. Hurry up! Hey! Get back here! Tribal war games are their national sport, Mary. It's none of our affair. Hey, partner! How about a hand? Thank you kindly. Go, Prince. Al-Hattal. He is gone. Jazira. Hy! I will free you. You will run, like the prince. Damn coward. No wonder you don't want to be his fifth wife. Hey! Hey, deputy! Hey! Jazira... They've taken her. They've taken her! If I turn over Al-Hattal, Katib will return my child. And if you don't? He's a bastard son of a jackal who would have his Gypsies commit crimes upon her. I cannot surrender what is most sacred to my family. You could never understand that, so do not even try. The Al Khamsa manuscripts. My family's breeding book is gone. It is gone! The Al Khamsa book contains the breeding secrets of the Muniqi strain going back to Saba. Let's bring your deputy in here. I'll ask you once more, Aziz, and only once. Where did they take my daughter? I know nothing. I only took the book to protect it from the raiders. It is they who stole it from me. Stole it? Or paid you, my trusted brother? It matters only to He. Please, end my humiliation. What are you doing? That's the easy way out. He ain't getting it. Please. Western justice, partner. That's called a Mexican tattoo, Deputy. And that lasts a lot longer than a sword. For a man of such high rank, you're kind of short, Aziz. We can fix that. No! I know where they have taken her until they receive the stallion. I know you're not a gambling man. But bring my daughter back by nightfall and you're forgiven. Attempt to deceive me and run, and you will not get beyond the port of Jordan with your head. Partner. Faster, traitor. His excellency is most reckless. Sending a slave to do a man's job. Know this, Aziz. If any harm has befallen the child, I shall remove your head myself. You know that my father will never surrender Al-Hattal. I will tell you something about your father. He is a failure at being a ruler. He allows emotions to govern him. I do not. And he has become Sheikh of Sheikhs. Whilst you, no more than a brigand. I am the greatest horseman of the tribe. I could defeat any rider in the great race, if I was allowed to sit the back of Al-Hattal. Why am I not? Because the sacred is not for sale, as are you. If Al-Hattal is not turned out onto the sands of the Hamad by midnight, I send your head to my uncle, wrapped in Baghdad silk. I am warned. And I promise it. Know that if we all die, your soul will go straight to the devil. And your impure horse, too. |
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