At the gallop, ho! Fort Laramie Fort Laramie, starring Raymond Burr as Captain Lee Quince. Specially transcribed tales of the dark and tragic ground of the wild frontier. The saga of fighting men who rode the rim of empire. And the dramatic story of Lee Quince, Captain of Cavalry. He's in there. Red Horse is dying, Captain. He sent for me. And you have come. Red Horse alone believed you would come. He's an old friend. Is he alone? The Great Spirit Chief is near. But Red Horse is alone. He waits for you and Snowfoot. Yeah. My old friend, come sit by me. Thank you, Red Horse. I knew you would come. There's a feel of the heart between us. I sent for you and Snowfoot, my son. And I knew you would come. Will Snowfoot come? As a father, I hope he will. As a man, I know he will not. I cannot blame him. I can. To come to me is to come on to the reservation. Snowfoot will never do that. He is young and certain of many things. Snowfoot's how old now? About fifteen? As the last leaves fall from the trees before the first snowfall, my son will begin his sixteenth winter. His mind moves quickly, but he is yet too young for wisdom. If he is all you say, maybe the wisdom will come. But he's heading for trouble, Red Horse. He and that pack of young braves with him. So far they're content to ride fast and make a lot of noise. That won't last, you know. Snowfoot has not killed. Not yet, as far as we know. But he's wild. He'll be looking for cool feathers. You don't get them running off horses and firing empty cabins. These are my mistakes he is making. You know better than that, Red Horse. My good friend, believe what I say. I know better in this moment than I have ever known. It is the privilege of the very old as well as the very young to be certain. And the years in between? You are living them. They are a time of learning and unlearning, of being right and being wrong, of slow courage and quick anger, years of growing. If it's in the man to grow. I put food in his mouth that he might grow strong of body, but I fed his mind on bitterness and hate. I take credit for one, I must take blame for the other. You're, you're tired, Red Horse. I'll, I'll go now. Come another time. My good friend, there can be no other time. You and I have always shared wise counsel. You think a fever speaks in me, because you never saw the part of Red Horse which knew hate and bitterness, but it was there, and at my knee in this lodge, Snowfoot learned to distrust the white man. It's time he learned otherwise. It's time he thought for himself. If he were at my side, I would tell him that. Would he listen? I am his father. You sent for him as his father. He's not here. My heart knows that well. Red Horse, I came here as your friend. I speak as your friend. If Snowfoot finds trouble, it's his trouble, not yours. If I find him, I'll deal with him as I find him, as Snowfoot, not as a son of Red Horse. You prove you are, my friend. You speak to me now as you have always spoken. There are those who promise empty words to a dying man. To do this would be to dishonor our friendship. And when I find him? Tell him a chief stands straight among all people. Tell him a man cannot stand straight when his mind is crooked. I can promise that, Red Horse. You give me peace. Go now, my friend. You cannot hear him come, but he is near. The Great Spirit Chief comes only for Red Horse. Red Horse, I... Have no fear. It is a gentle time. And I am ready. You are the one who sent for Snowfoot? I rode to his camp myself. Where is his camp? On Dry Fork, near the joining waters of the Powder River. You think he will come with you, Captain? I don't know. I told him Red Horse was dying. He called it White Man's Trick to get him to come on the reservation. I hope you reach him in time. It's too late for Red Horse. It may even be too late for Snowfoot. Pickets are out, sir. I just wrote check on camp. Everything is quiet. Too quiet for me, Mr. Sabitz. Has Sergeant Gorse returned from the telegraphers? Not yet, Captain. You expect trouble? I expect quiet. Patrolling the reservation is a quiet business. Death is a quiet time. It's all too much quiet, Mr. Sabitz. Your friend Red Horse is dead? Yes. Before I had reached the agent's house, the death song had begun. And in ways are primitive. I don't understand them. You understand funerals? Funerals? What funerals? White Man, Red Man? A man dies with dignity, but the mourners wail. Music plays, songs are sung. I guess you're right. I telegraphed the major for new orders, Mr. Sabitz. If they come through, you'll be in charge of the patrol here. New orders, Captain? I want to go after Snowfoot. You know where he is? His camp is on Dry Fork, north of here, where it joins the Powder River. Snowfoot's been quiet, Captain. He hasn't been raiding lately, unless you have new information. If he's done nothing, he'll be easier to talk to. I don't see your sentimental side often. You think you see it now, Mr. Sabitz? Red Horse was your friend. You're doing this for him, aren't you? Red Horse is dead. I couldn't do anything for him now if I wanted to. I'm sorry, Captain. I know he meant a lot to you. I'll tell you what means a lot to me, Mr. Sabitz. I'd like to be out of a job. I'd like the whole army in the west to be out of a job. That'd mean a lot to me. I don't understand. When they talk peace, real peace, the Red Men and the White Men, they won't need an army out here. Snowfoot's a young Indian. There's hope in him. If we can talk to him now before he starts killing, if we can get him and his young band to come on the reservation, they might help us write that peace. I can't imagine you out of the army, Captain Quince. I might surprise you, Mr. Sabitz. Yes, sir, I think you might. You think the Major feels like you do? I mean, you think he'll let you go after Snowfoot? I don't know. I telegraphed him from the Indian agents this morning. I should have heard by now. Suppose the Major says, all right, go after Snowfoot. Will Snowfoot listen to you? I think he'll listen. That doesn't mean he'll do as I say. Captain Quince, sir? Oh, come in, Sergeant. Captain, Lieutenant. Telegraph just got it, sir. Turn up that lantern, Mr. Sabitz. Yes, sir. We have new orders, Mr. Sabitz. We? I mean, all of us? All of us. We'll be joined by reinforcements to bring us up to company strength in the morning. Our orders are to move north against Black Eagle. Black Eagle? Is that what you're talking about? Yes, sir. You've heard the orders. Pass the word. See, we're ready to break camp, move out half an hour after Reveille. Yes, sir. How far north are we going, Captain? To Potter River, Sergeant. Near Dry Fork. Yes, sir. Captain, that's where you said Snowfoot makes his camp. Well, Mr. Sabitz? Then maybe it's Snowfoot we're after, not Black Eagle? Yes, sir. Captain, we're going north. We're going to make our way to the base camp. Well, Mr. Sabitz? Then maybe it's Snowfoot we're after, not Black Eagle? The Major's telegram says Black Eagle, Mr. Sabitz. Yes, sir. Oh, what about your request for new orders to go after Snowfoot? They were denied. We have a hard day of riding ahead, Mr. Sabitz. Yes, sir. I think I'll turn in early. Good night, Captain. Good night. This is Dry Fork we're following, Captain? That's right, Mr. Sabitz. Water in it? Eh, looks like it. I guess it doesn't have to be dry just because that's its name. Over east to here near the Black Hills country, there's a scrawny little stream called Old Woman Creek. I say what you mean, Captain. Do you? Sure, just because of its name doesn't mean there's an old woman in it. It was the last time I saw it. You're joshing me, Captain. Old Indian Squaw standing knee-deep washing clothes. Guess you just can't tell. Guess you just can't, Mr. Sabitz. Black Dairways, Captain, where we found those settlers butchered. That was Black Eagle's work? Yeah, it looked like it. Why not Snowfoot? Oh, the way it was done. It was a big raid, a lot of horses. From all we know, Snowfoot has a small camp. Not over 20 braves ride with him. It was Black Eagle or someone like him with old enemies. Settlers were old enemies? Yeah, at least two of them were. The two men who weren't scalped. I wondered about that. There's an old belief among some Indians that an unscalped enemy suffers after death. So if you've got to be killed by an Indian, Mr. Sabitz, make sure he hates your guts. I'll sure try, Captain. About three hours of daylight left. If we keep up this pace, we should make our rendezvous by sundown. Gaff made Zephytris closing in from the east, sir? Yeah, started over in Black Hills country, Mr. Sabitz, near Old Woman Crick. Wonderful old squaw still at her laundry work. Maybe so, Mr. Sabitz. Maybe so. Looks like Sergeant Gorse, Captain. Yeah, I wonder what happened to his scouting party. Company! Company! Company! Hold! Captain Quinn, sir? Sergeant? Just ahead, over the rise near the wash. The settler. It was a raid, sir. Not too long ago. The fire's fresh, Captain. And the settler? Still alive, sir. Company! Company! At the gallop! At the gallop! At the gallop! Out! It doesn't look much like the last settler, Gorse. How much? How much at all? I count six arrows. You count them all, too. One shed fired. Cabin's all right. You look inside? It's neat in there, Captain. Like somebody'd give it good care. It's been read up recently. Nobody in there? Nobody. How about the barn? Ice house? Nobody around. Nothing torn up, thrown around. Funniest kind of engine raid I ever heard tell. Not many of them, either, judging from the hoof marks. I'd say they were riding west, Sergeant. Baring toward Powder River, sir. Hmm. Now, let's have a look at that settler. Lieutenant Seibert's been looking to his knees. Back there, Captain, the other settlers' engines was riding east. I know. Yes, sir. Lucky that's all they did. You feeling better, mister? Just telling the lieutenant here. None the worse for wear, near as I can tell. Head wound, Captain. Head wound. Here, lean over, mister. Yeah, skin's broken a little. You got yourself a good-sized knot there. Feels like a boulder, but it don't hurt much. Well, it will. What'd they hit you with? Hit me? You're all bound to determine I was hit, ain't you? Well, sir, I wasn't. I fell right over my big feet getting out of their way. Cracked my head a good one against that rock yonder. And that's the size of it. Getting out of their way? Who were they? They were the Comanches, of course. Comanches? Well, Indians, they're all Comanches to me. And these was bellowing like Comanches, you'd take my word. Yipping and screaming. Didn't know what I'd die of first, cracking my head or the noise. For all their noise, they didn't do much damage. Uh, how many Indians, mister? Oh, a dozen, I'd say. Maybe more, but not many more, mind you. I might have missed a few, seeing they was through here and gone like the wind. We're figuring they rode through here to the west. That right? That way. Yeah, yeah, west, toward Powder River. Oh, there's something else you can figure on while you're about it. What's that? They was young, real young. Heh, heh. Guess they'd have to be bellowing and yipping that way. Yes, indeedy, mighty young. Captain Mead will have to get a move on if he expects to make camp with us before nightfall, captain. Yeah, I thought he'd beat us here. You worried about Snowfoot, sir? Worried, Mr. Cybert? His camp can't be far away. Well, I'm not worried about him. I'm worried about him. Well, I'm worried about him. Well, I'm worried about him. Well, I'm worried about him. Well, I'm worried about him. Well, I'm worried about him. Worried, Mr. Cybert? His camp can't be far away. Not far. It's less than ten miles to Powder River. Are you going after him? My orders are to engage Black Eagle, Mr. Cybert. I know that, sir, but if Snowfoot's so... I intend to follow my orders, Mr. Cybert. Yes, sir. I've got a message for Captain Quince. I'm Captain Quince. Message from Captain Mead, sir. Thank you. Mead engaged Black Eagle at Porcupine Creek. Trapped him. Was a rout. Black Eagle? He's dead. Any reply, sir? My compliments to Captain Mead. Tell him well done. How long since you ate, soldier? Been a spell, sir, since early morning. Sergeant Gorse? We'll see you get some hot food, soldier. What about our orders now, Captain? Our orders are clear, Mr. Cybert. Captain? Sergeant, see this man gets food and rest. See his horses tented, too. Report back to me in half an hour. Yes, sir. Come on, soldier. Captain Quince, about our orders... The company will start back to Fort Laramie in the morning. Any questions? No, sir. I'll be in my tent, Mr. Cybert. You think I'm crazy, Gorse? Maybe not crazy, but you sure act like a man who wants to get himself captured. Suppose you wanted to talk to Snowfoot one man to another. You know any better way than to go to his camp alone? The way you want to talk to him, unofficial-like? No, I don't know a better way. You want him to hold top hand, don't you, Captain? Yeah, he has to, Gorse. There ain't many engine camps I'd walk into alone, but if I had my pick, I'd take Snowfoot's. You'll help Mr. Cybert understand this, won't you, Sergeant? Now, that might be a lifetime job, Captain. It's got to be between Snowfoot and me, not the Army and a young Indian band, if it's going to do any good. Well, he'll have scouts out. Are you set to handle him? If I have to. I'd rather they captured me. Captain Quince, if you figured you was going to get yourself killed... I'm not figuring that way, or I wouldn't do it. Do you know that, Gorse? Yes, sir, I do. Or I'd have to tag along one way or another. Snowfoot hasn't killed yet. I don't see him counting me his first coup. I sure wish you luck, Captain. Thank you, Gorse. See you back at Fort Laramie. His trick, his white man's trick. You see, Snowfoot, by morning white man's army come. Trick belongs to Snowfoot, Spotted Dog. Go now. Call the council together. I will speak to them when I have finished with White Captain. But Snowfoot... Go now! That your whole band, Snowfoot? We have scouts out. We make up in young strength what we lack in number. So, we trick you, White Captain. You did? Raids of Snowfoot bring much fear to white man, or White Captain would not be here. You're not thinking very straight, Snowfoot. I knew white man would come. I know you, White Captain, would come, friend of my father. I have a message from your father. My father is dead. Before he died, he asked me to tell you that a chief stands straight among all people. That a man cannot stand straight when his mind is crooked. He was an old man, my father. Old man stoop, grow soft with the mind of a squaw. Old men go to reservation to make friend with white man, and who die. Your father was a proud chief, Snowfoot, and a wise one. Before he made friends with white man, yes. What do you want from the white man? My hunting grounds, the right to move in peace among my own people, on my own lands. Do you think you'll get what you want this way? It is the only way. You don't know what you're talking about. Your words are like your raids, a lot of noise and not much meaning. My raids have brought white captain. White man now sees the power of Snowfoot. You don't believe that yourself. White captain speaks big words for a captive. What do you do with your captive, Snowfoot? Snowfoot has his ways. You never captured a thing but a few horses. You never killed a thing but game. That's why I think maybe there's some hope for you. White captain is prisoner. Big coup for Snowfoot. Tomorrow, white army men come. Talk terms with Snowfoot for release of white captain. They won't come tomorrow, Snowfoot, because I'm not big enough. And because you're not big enough. They will come. If I were a general, if you were sitting bull, maybe. But we're not. We're just a couple of men this country could use. They will come. A lot of young braves like you are hunting on the reservation and fishing and sitting at council tables with white men. White men will come. Bring council to Snowfoot. Make peace on Snowfoot's terms. You'll see, Snowfoot. We're not big enough. White captain has said no white men come. And they do not come spotted, Doc. Our scouts have seen them move away. Two sons have gone. And I have watched you, Snowfoot. How much power with white captain. You grow weak on his words. You speak with a crooked mind, spotted dog. There is room for strength in the mind as in the body. Now you speak as our fathers before us. We are our father's sons, spotted dog. White captain, bad medicine. Then we will rid the camp of him. Kill? You will get white captain's horse, spotted dog. Now. You will go, white captain. You will return to the white man. Show them you knew no harm in Snowfoot's camp. Yes, I'll show them. They will see I am proud chief, worthy of council. Maybe they will. There is always council waiting for you on the reservation, Snowfoot. Reservation holds grave of my father. And I am my father's son. You will go now, white captain. Patrol, hold. Mr. Cybert, good to see you. Good to see you, captain. You all right, sir? I am all right. How is Major Daggett? I guess he is fine, sir. He was worried about you. Sent me back with the patrol as soon as we reached Fort Laramie. How far have you ridden, sir? Oh, ten, twenty miles. Well, looks like you made out, captain. I'll know better later on, sergeant. Well, anyway, they didn't kill you. Oh, they decided I wasn't important enough. Well, we are here to show them you are, captain. We will give them something they can understand. What are your orders, Mr. Cybert? Why, to rescue you, sir. Do I look like a prisoner to you, Mr. Cybert? You look fine to me, captain, but shouldn't... I mean, we can't let them get by with what they did, sir. They did nothing. I rode into their camp, and I rode away, unharmed. Well, that's true enough. You were to secure my release and return to Fort Laramie. That right, Mr. Cybert? That's exactly right, sir. I suggest we follow those orders. But what about Snowfoot, captain? He's Red Horse's son. I think we'll see him on the reservation some day. I hope so. Fort Laramie is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald and stars Raymond Burr as Lee Quince, captain of cavalry, with Vic Perlin as Sergeant Gorse. The script was specially written for Fort Laramie by Kathleen Height, with sound patterns by Bill James and Ray Kemper. Musical supervision by Amarigo Marino. Featured in the cast were Harry Bartel, Jeffrey Silver, Ralph Moody, Lee Millar, Frank Cady, Lou Krugman, and Jack Moyles. Company, attention! Dismiss! Next week, another transcribed story of the Northwest frontier and the troopers who fought under Lee Quince, captain of cavalry. Although our national elections are still months away, they've already captured the attention of the whole world. The decisions we make in November will affect world events for years to come. That's why CBS Radio reminds you now that you can participate in the elections only if you are registered. Voting is more than a privilege of free men and women. It's a responsibility we owe ourselves and our country. Register, inform yourself on the issues and the candidates, and vote in all elections, including primaries. Your vote will count if it's there to be counted. Thank you.
