Rawhide (1959–1965): Season 6, Episode 17 - Incident of the Dowery Dundee - full transcript

Seven long hours in
the saddle and for what?

I ain't seen a stray,
much less any sign.

You heard what
the man said, Jim,

we hunt for strays, and
so that's what we're doing.

Yeah, you round them
up, and you line them out,

and you push them
from sunup to sundown,

and what do you
get out of it? Nothing.

You start all over again.

Well, I'll tell you, Rowdy,

this is my last drive.

When we hit Denver,



I'm gonna take my share
and buy me a saloon.

- Uh, Jim?
- You bet.

I'm gonna prop my
boots up on that bar

- and get right back in the shade.
- Uh, psst.

Jim.

You betcha. The rest of my life.

- Uh, Jim?
- What?

Ain't no range bull. What is it?

I'll tell you what, uh,

you find out while
I get out of here.

Smile at him, Jim. Don't
let him think we're nervous.

Yeah, just call
me old nonchalant.

Oh, let's go.

Rowdy, do something. Shoot him.



Over here. Run.

Hey, get over.

Get your elbow out of my eye.

- He's gotta be part elephant.
- Yeah.

Never mind that.
Just stay in here.

Help!

- Don't breathe so deep, will you?
- Help!

Carnoustie, that will be enough!

You should be
ashamed of yourself.

Go on. Get back
where you belong.

Immediately.

You can come out now.

Really, Carnoustie's a
most tractable creature.

Carnoustie?

It must be the yellow
scarf you're wearing.

He can't abide the color.

I hope that neither
of you are injured.

Uh, no. Not where it shows any.

Nonchalant.

I'm Kathleen Dundee.

Oh, Rowdy Yates.

Hi, Miss Dundee.

Oh, old Jim Quince, ma'am.

We're with the cattle
drive heading for Denver.

Oh. Cow drivers.

Very interesting.

Heading for Denver?

Uh, yes, ma'am.

Oh.

Well, you must forgive
my bad manners,

but I was just sitting
down having my cup of tea.

- Of course, you'll be joining me?
- Tea?

Well, no, ma'am, we have
to go catch our horses.

Everything in its own time, as
Robbie Burns was wont to say.

I'm sure that your animals
will wander back to you both.

Come along. The kettle's on.

I guess if we don't go, Carn...

Whatever his name
is might not approve.

Yeah.

There's really nothing like tea,
especially when it's properly brewed.

I once tried to get used
to your national beverage.

- Coffee?
- Mm-hm.

I'm afraid that it
couldn't get used to me.

Oh, do sit down.

There.

The pewter's Kincardine.

My great grandsire
on my father's side.

Oh. And the Haviland's
1821, my mother's.

So do be careful with it.

Are either of you gentlemen
familiar with Colley Cibber?

Oh, uh, well, I knew a Cowlick
Cibber down on the Red.

He used to have a faro
layout. You remember him.

No. The Cibber I'm referring to was
an 18th-century English playwright.

- Uh, good nevertheless.
- Oh, no, that wouldn't be him.

Tea! Thou soft, thou sober,
sage and venerable liquid...

Ha, ha. Quite appropriate,
don't you think so?

Yes.

Uh, say, ma'am,

I don't mean to be nosy, but
where are the rest of your people?

- People?
- Yeah.

What people?

Well, you're not
out here all alone?

Ha, ha. Not quite.

Monmouth, MacHeath, MacDuff,

and I believe that you're
familiar with Carnoustie.

Yes, ma'am, we met him.

Oh, do sit down. They're
quite harmless, really.

I practically raised
them since their infancy.

They go along with
the things in my wagon.

They're all part of my dowry.

Well, I thought you was fixing to
open up some kind of a swap shop.

Dundee heirlooms, a swap shop?

Hardly, Mr. Quince.

- Miss Dundee...
- Kathleen.

Uh, Kathleen, you mean to
tell me you're out here 70 miles

from nowhere, with
just a wagonload of...?

- Heirlooms.
- Heirlooms.

And four breeding bulls,
looking for a husband?

Not a husband, Mr. Yates.

A husband-to-be.

You see, I was
betrothed in Edinburgh

at the livestock
fair a year ago.

Richard Whiting was his name.

A fine strapping man.

A pioneer rancher of the
great American Southwest,

or so he said.

Ooh.

If only I could've
seen the villainy

behind the great smile
and the twinkling eyes...

Hmm. Lies.
Lies. All of it, lies.

The great ranch he talked
about, nothing but a mud shack.

And the beautiful herd,
scraggy, underfed beasts

not fit to tread the
pastures with MacDuff.

That wasn't all either.

It wasn't me he wanted
to walk beside him.

It was my wealth.

Heh. Content he was to
shut me away in the kitchen

with my fancy heirlooms while
he frittered away my inheritance

like snowflakes in a bathtub.

Why, a man like that,
he ain't worth being killed.

So it's back to
Scotland I'm going.

Me and my bulls and
my dowry. What's left of it.

You see, I ran short of
supplies and I lost my way.

Oh, this country
is like a crazy quilt.

It's full of capricious
canyons and deceitful creeks.

Ah, but now that I've found
you, everything is all right.

- It is?
- Well, we're all driving to Denver.

We can all drive together.

Uh...

- Miss Dundee...
- Kathleen.

Kathleen, you see, you don't realize
that we got a herd of 3,000 beefs.

Oh, that doesn't
bother me at all.

Ma'am, wouldn't it make more sense
to freight you and your dowry to Denver?

Well, I'm afraid
that's not possible.

You see, that beast,
he left me with nothing.

Not even a farthing.

- But you see...
- You wouldn't want me

to be stranded out here 60
miles from nowhere, would you?

No. Heh.

I guess we wouldn't think
of that, now, would we?

Ah, capital. Right, I'll go and pack
and then we can all be on our way.

One lost female and
four breeding bulls, tin suit,

3,000 head of cattle.

Yeah, and a trail
boss named Favor.

Four what?

Bulls, boss. The biggest
breeding stock I ever did see.

The herd took one look at them
and busted loose all down the line.

Yeah, well, what are
you standing there for?

Break out a rifle
and cut them down.

Well, I thought of that too, but
I was afraid I might hit Rowdy.

- Hit Rowdy?
- Or Quince too.

You see, they brought the
bulls in. Them and the woman.

Here they come.

Joe, all of you, get out there
and get rid of those bulls.

- But, Rowdy...
- No, he's mine.

He's all mine.

Mushy.

Oh, no, wait a minute, boss.

Maybe you'd better have some
coffee. It's good for the nerves.

Only one thing's gonna
help my nerves: blood.

Get a rifle.

Miss Dundee, your bulls, ma'am.

MacDuff, whoa,
that's far enough.

And what do you
knot-heads think you're doing?

Oh, well, you see,
boss, it was this way...

I send you out for strays, and
you come back with four crazy bulls

and a rolling junkyard.

Junkyard? Dundee
heirlooms, junkyard?

And just who do you think you
are, you great oversized, beady-eyed

- cross between a...?
- Kathleen, that's the boss.

Oh, Mr. Favor, of course.

Oh, how charming.

You see, Mr. Yates and Mr. Quince
here, they were just telling me

what a wonderful gentleman you
are and a great inspirational leader.

What are you waiting for?
Get those bulls out of here.

That won't really be
necessary, boss. You see...

Those bulls are trained,
boss. They mind her.

- Don't they, ma'am?
- Oh, certainly.

If you want the animals
removed, Mr. Favor,

all you have to
do is to ask him.

Monmouth, move over there.

Dunheath, MacDuff,
get along with you.

See?

All right, Joe, just make
sure they keep moving.

Don't get too close to them.
They're not used to you yet.

Yet?

See, that's what I was gonna tell
you, boss. You see, Miss Dundee here...

Well, what he's trying
to tell you, Mr. Favor,

is that these two gallant
gentlemen of yours,

in the true tradition of
the great American West,

have offered to a
lost, maltreated woman

the sanctuary of
your cattle drive.

They did what?

Uh, well, she was down
to her last cup of tea.

We just couldn't leave
her out there alone and lost.

You expect me to
take four bulls and this...

Kathleen Dundee.
Aberdeen, Scotland.

On my cattle drive?

Well, she had no
place to go, boss.

She had no money,
not even a farthing.

Just four big bulls.

Oh, I assure you,

Monmouth, MacDuff and
Dunheath and Carnoustie,

oh, they'll be no trouble
at all. None whatsoever.

And, well, I could
be very useful to you.

And I promise to stay
well out of the way.

Mr. Favor, I've
been lost a long time.

I'm alone in a strange land.

And all I want to do is
to get back to Aberdeen,

where my bulls and my
junkyard and I belong.

Please, Mr. Favor.

Uh, Mr. Favor, I could use some
more help around the chuck wagon.

Me too.

And I'll put the
bulls on drag, boss.

That way the herd
won't even see them.

Well, the boys will be glad to
pull double shifts to help out.

She was jilted, hasn't got
anyone else to turn to, really.

All right, all right. I can't
stand to see grown men cry.

Stay with us until
we hit the next town.

- Mr. Favor, I don't want...
- The next town.

Just as you say.

And I'm extremely grateful.

Help! Somebody do something!

Help! Help!

Carnoustie, stop that!

Go on, get along with you.

Join the others
where you belong.

I just can't understand it.

It's that scarf, Joe.

Carnoustie there
just don't like yellow.

No, it must be
something more than that.

I've never heard
him so unruly. Tsk.

It must be the prairie gnats.

Prairie gnats?

Blemishes of a minor sort.

He gets them
constantly on his back.

You wouldn't, by any
chance, mean warble flies?

Well, I don't what
you call them.

Blemishes in Scotland
are called something else.

I'm sure that you will
know what to do with them.

And, Mr. Favor,
do start shaving,

because your
lather is going hard.

You must be Mr. Wishbone
and Mr. Mushy.

Well, Wishbone, how quaint.

You know, you resemble
a cousin of mine.

His star was haggis. A
bit of a gourmet, as I recall.

Also, I think he dabbled
in medicine. Ha, ha.

Well...

I guess I better get
back to the herd.

- Me too.
- Yeah. I'd better get this wagon.

- Mr. Yates.
- Yeah.

Have you ever seen a
herd down with warble flies?

Gee, no, I can't
say that I have.

And you wouldn't wanna see anything
messy like that either, would you?

- You mean...?
- That's right.

You're gonna get the
chance to dip Carnoustie

and all his little friends.

- All right?
- All right, then.

- Well, I don't mind dipping bulls.
- I thought so.

Carnoustie needs a bath,
that's all right with me.

Oh, do be careful, Mr. Yates.

Keep your dip out of his eyes.

Yeah. I'm trying my best not to.

And don't pull so
hard on that rope.

There's no need to
badger the poor dear.

There, there,
it's gotta be done.

It's the only way to get
rid of the warble flies.

- Whew.
- You all right?

Ach, I'm fine. Yes. Whew.

It's the fumes.

It's mostly sulfur and asafetida.
It's worse than rotten eggs.

You sure you don't
wanna go back to camp?

No, I'm fine.

Settle down, you critters.
It's past your bedtime.

- They settling down any?
- Afraid not, boss. It's them bulls.

- They ain't doing nothing but just...
- Yeah, I know.

Carnoustie and his friends.

All right. Keep them tight. I'll
put some more men on those bulls

to make sure they stay
on their side of the fence.

Quiet down, you old mossback.

You ain't going nowhere.

I do hate to interrupt such
an idyllic pastoral scene,

but I was under the impression
you were gonna spend

a bit of time with them
nice little bulls tonight.

Oh, yeah.

Well, you see, it was
that warble-fly dip, boss.

I couldn't stand
myself afterwards.

"Elixir of rose blossom petals
and honeysuckle buds." Ooh.

Well, heh, that's Miss Dundee's.

It was the only thing I could
find that was strong enough.

Boy, those bulls are
gonna love you tonight.

And all night long too.

Hmm. Warble flies.

Don't stop now, Miss Dundee.

I'm just getting warmed up.

There you are, Mr. Favor.

We were wondering
where you'd got to.

Oh, I'd bet on that.

Oh.

So the Englishman was right.

Truly a man who hath
no music in himself

is fit for treachery,
stratagems and spoils.

Why, these men of
yours, they dance so well

they must have a drop or
two of Scots blood in them.

Ha, ha. Or a drop or
two of the Orkney Special.

Aw, it's this tin suit, boss,
I just couldn't resist it.

And guess what, Mr. Favor.

Miss Dundee, she
thinks we're related.

My middle name's Milligan,
and her great-uncle...

Angus Milligan,
regimental commander,

the queen's own volunteer guard.

That is, before he
emigrated to America.

Ah, the poor dear. We
never have heard of him since.

Mr. Mushgrove here,
he could be his twin.

Yeah. She showed us a picture.

His spitting image.

We thought it was only proper to
unpack Uncle Angus' regimentals.

Ah, doesn't he
cut a bunny figure?

Drafty would be more like it.

Mushy, let's get out of that fool outfit
and get behind a self-respecting apron,

- where you belong.
- Yes, sir.

Fool outfit?

Quince, if that pile of junk
don't disappear in five minutes

you're gonna be riding
nighthawk in it all evening.

Pile of scrap? Mr. Favor.

Now, maybe you
haven't noticed it,

but this is a cattle drive
and not a traveling carnival.

But...

So while we're enjoying
the benefit of your company,

you will confine yourself
to the chuck wagon.

And please, let's keep this
claptrap where it belongs, huh?

Claptrap indeed.

For your information, Mr. Favor,
that claptrap, as you call it,

represents a 400-year heritage

of proud life and noble death

honored on the battlefields of
Europe to the Baskerville moors

to the great stones of
Saint James himself.

A heritage that was flourishing

when your ancestors
thought treetops were homes.

Heh. Claptrap,
indeed, Mr. Favor. Heh.

Well? That dinner gonna
jump into the pot all by itself?

For your information,
Mr. Trail-Boss,

that dinner's all done
and just simmering

while Miss Dundee's
pies is getting done.

Pies which, I might add, she's
made special for you and the men.

Easy there, MacDuff.

Let's not get excited.

No cause for alarm, Mr. Yates.

He merely heard my step.

Go on, MacDuff. Go on.

Back with the others.

You know, I think
I got this all wrong.

Maybe you should be
riding the night guard,

and I should be back
with the pots and pans.

Hardly, Mr. Yates.

You see, MacDuff and I were
practically brought up together.

There's no need
to watch over them.

All they need do to settle
is a "good night" from me.

I'm afraid Mr. Favor
doesn't agree.

He says watch them,
so we watch them.

Insurance, you might
say, to be on the safe side.

Your Mr. Favor is a
stern taskmaster, isn't he?

Well, driving the men is the biggest
part of driving cattle, I'm afraid.

Yes, I suppose so.

Uh, you wouldn't consider me
part of that cattle drive, would you?

Uh, well, if you were, I'm afraid we'd
have more drovers than we do steers.

Then you will help?

How?

Well, help me to
change Mr. Favor's mind.

Well, he can't just drop
me at the next town.

That's playing
right into his hands.

- Whose hands?
- The man I was supposed to marry.

Oh, he'd do anything
to get my bulls back.

He's probably notified every constable
in the territory to arrest me on sight.

Now, look, Kathleen,
the law works both ways.

- Now, all you have to do is...
- There's nothing I can do.

That's what I keep telling you.

I'm not even a citizen.
The law's all on his side.

Please speak to
Mr. Favor. He'll listen to you.

All I want to do is to
get back to Denver.

Then I can sell Dunheath,
oh, to a good family, of course,

and then secure my
passage to Aberdeen.

Please, Mr. Yates.

If you don't, I'll
never get home.

Yeah, but, look...

I'm only a woman.

All I can do is beg.

Well, I'll see what I can do.

Oh, Mr. Yates, I'll
be eternally grateful.

Boss, you're not
gonna believe this.

Believe what?

I never thought I'd see the
day the bulls could drive cattle

better than we could. Look.

I was just having
them back there.

Seems to make the steer a little
nervous, pushes their speed up.

Why, we keep the
bulls around, at this rate,

we'll be in Denver
a month early.

Oh, you can keep that
bull. I'll see you in Denver.

Whoa there.

Who did what?

Oh, it's old Carnoustie
there. He's gone plumb goofy.

Got the whole tail end of that
herd running around in circles.

Carnoustie, huh?

Herd them in. Don't
let them bust through.

- What happened?
- No way of telling, boss.

That old bull just started running
like he was mad at somebody.

Not somebody,
Scarlet. Something.

Look, boss, daisies.

- Yellow daisies.
- I know.

Don't tell me.

I bet I know.

Carnoustie don't like yellow, huh?
- Well, yeah.

Yeah, well, what was you saying

about how helpful
bulls is on a cattle drive?

Well, uh, you see...

And that little girl
that talks to them

and keeps them
real nice and quiet,

now, where do you
suppose she's got to, huh?

Well, maybe she
got lost, uh, again.

Now, that would be
a shame, wouldn't it?

- Well, boss, now...
- Find her, Mr. Yates.

You find her and her
wagon and her bulls

and you lump them all together.

That way, you shouldn't
have any trouble

- when you leave.
- Leave?

That's right. You're
leaving in the morning.

You and Mr. Quince and
all of Aberdeen, Scotland,

and MacDuff and Dunheath,
and Monmouth and Carnoustie.

You're gonna disappear.

Just like that, you're
all gonna disappear.

Where are we gonna take her?

Back where you
found her, anywhere.

I don't care, just so long as
you keep her away from this herd.

Is that clear?

Well, yeah, it's clear.

Fine.

Maybe we could get in a
little cattle driving now, huh?

All right?

- Of course, yeah.
Yeah. QUINCE: Yes, sir.

Miss Dundee?

You did say "Miss" Dundee?

No, that was Mr. Yates.

And I didn't bother
to correct him.

Didn't bother?

For your information,
Mr. Wishbone, I have left my husband.

I had the hoax of a marriage
declared null and void.

Well, are you also gonna
declare that baby null and void?

Lady, there isn't a doctor
around here in 50 miles.

My baby isn't expected yet,
and I believe I can still count.

Well, maybe you
can, but the baby can't.

There's really nothing to
worry about, Mr. Wishbone.

Oh, that's fine for you to
say, but what about me?

I helped deliver a few
calves into this world,

but if you think...

- Here.
- Oh.

You just push and I'll tug.

We Dundees are sturdy stock.

We carry our children well.

My mother was harrowing
clover to the last hour,

and I was born en
route to the barn.

Barn?

Well, all we got's wagons.

Ha, ha. Well, if
necessary, that will do fine.

Well, nothing's gonna do fine

when Rowdy and
Mr. Favor find out about this.

Mr. Wishbone, that's exactly why
I've been trying to conceal the truth.

The immortal
conspiracy of mankind,

superior beings honor-bound

to present a solid, unwavering
front to the weaker sex,

no matter who's
right or who's wrong.

Tell them that I dared to defy the
nuptial fetters of felicitude forever

to a fellow man, and your
Mr. Favor and Mr. Yates

will have me dropped at
the nearest doctor's doorstep

as if I were a blight on society

and leave me to the mercy
of that gruesome monster

I once called a husband.

Well, monster or no monster,
you still ought to be in doctor's care.

You wouldn't even be out
here if you wasn't ailing.

It's a minor
circulatory condition,

common in pregnancy,

and the cool waters take
the swelling of the ankle down.

There's nothing to worry about.

Well, I still gotta tell them.

Mr. Wishbone, you do that
and you'll be committing murder.

If that husband of mine
gets me in his clutches,

my spirit will die.

And that means I'll die too.

- Please, Mr. Wishbone, don't tell.
- But...

I promise that at the first
signs, I'll tell them myself.

And then you can go out
and scare up 50 doctors

if it'll make you
feel any better.

Fair enough?

Well, fair or not, they're
still gonna find out.

Motherhood has a way of
getting around on a cattle drive.

And when Mr. Favor finds
out, I know what he's gonna say.

Here you are.

Just what the doctor ordered.

- Oh, Mr. Wishbone...
- No buts about it.

There's extract of iron and
calcium and phosphorus in there,

just the thing for
blood and bones.

- Either you take it, or I'll talk.
- Men.

I know just how you feel,

but there's more important
things than getting to Denver.

And whatever you think of
Mr. Favor, he's doing the right thing.

You got no business at all out here,
you being in the family way and all.

Mr. Wishbone, my Uncle Macintosh
marched 1,000 feverish Highlanders

over the Khyber Pass
in the dead of winter

with nothing more
to keep him going

than his bagpipe and
three kegs of Aberdeen ale.

A Dundee never surrenders
and never retreats.

I'll get to Denver. If I crawl there
on my hands and knees, I'll get there.

And my blood and
bones are fine, thank you.

This will be real
good for the men.

Well, you finally did it, huh?

You put arsenic in the coffee.

There's nothing wrong with a
little calcium and phosphorus.

A matter of fact, there's some
around here I know could use a little iron

and a little less lead.

Trail boss around?

You're looking at what's
left of him. Gil Favor.

Ah.

Lost my horse a few miles back,

saw your herd,

figured I might deal with
you for another animal.

Seems to me like you could use
something solid behind your belt

more than a horse.

I'll see what I can rustle up.

Obliged.

You usually do your
traveling at night, Mr., uh...?

Oh. Whiting.

Richard Whiting.

And as to when I
do my traveling...

- Here. It's only jerky, but it's filling.
- Oh, thank you.

Don't look like I
got much choice,

seeing as how I'm
trying to follow a trail

that wanders over
half the territory.

Might be you can help.

Wrong, Mr. Whiting.

You mean you were
looking for someone.

You ought to be
ashamed of yourself.

Steal a woman's dowry.

- Hold it, hold it, what's this all about?
- Him, the man who jilted Miss Dundee.

She told you that?

That and more, you thief.

Ooh, I haven't
got warmed up yet.

What right of you to leave me?
- What right?

Look, if this is a private argument,
why don't you take it someplace private?

You run off and leave me...
- Leave you?

To go traipsing
around half the territory

in a wagon my old man
wore out 30 years ago

- with nothing but four half-wild bulls...
- Half wild?

To keep you company,
no food, no money,

and you ask me what
right I had to follow you?

Mr. Whiting, when you abandoned
me, you also abandoned all the rights

and claims to anything
that existed before the fact.

I abandoned you?

- All right, fella, you...
- Wait a minute.

- Rowdy, they're married.
- Married?

Oh, no, we're not.

I told the neighbors it was
null and void before I left.

I don't care what you
told the neighbors.

You're going home if I
have to drag you by the hair.

Oh, no, I'm not. Never.

- Mr. Favor, you're a reasonable man.
- Oh, true.

This man married me
under false pretenses.

Once he got me and
my bulls in his power,

he put Carnoustie and MacDuff

to service ordinary range cows.

And for what? So he
could buy more range cows

for Monmouth and Dunheath.

And as if that wasn't enough,

he used my great Irish grandmother's
porcelain night pot as a spittoon.

I didn't know it was no antique.

And then he dared to cart my
dowry, my precious heirlooms,

every one of them,
out to his barn,

hmph, likely to make
nests for rodents.

I still say a thing ain't
got no use, you junk it.

And finally, having
shredded me of all my pride

and reducing me to the
status of a chambermaid,

he finally took the
humiliating step.

He deliberately stole my dot.

My grandmother's thriftily
preserved 92 pounds sterling,

and he abandoned me.

Now, I ask you, Mr. Favor,
what would you do?

Well, now, I...

That's it. That's
exactly what I did, run.

And run and run and run

till I was far way from his
designing and deceitful lies.

Kathleen, I did not abandon you.

I went to San Antone to buy
a decent strain of Herefords

to breed with your
Aberdeen bulls.

And as for your grandmother's dot,
I put it in a bank, where it belongs.

Lies, lies, lies.

Oh, you don't fool me and you
don't fool any of my friends either.

All right, that's enough.

No more talk. No more
cock-and-bull stories.

You're going home,
and I mean right now.

Don't forget to take your bulls.

Oh, no, I'm not. Never.
Over my dead body.

I may not be able to swing right,
but there's nothing wrong with my aim.

Liberty in every blow!

Come on, let's duel... Oh!

Miss Dundee... I mean
Mrs. Whiting, is it...?

Oh. Mr. Wishbone, I don't
think we're gonna have time

to scare up those 50 doctors.

Kathy.

It's all right, you're
just gonna be a daddy.

- A baby?
- A baby, yeah.

Mushy, blankets!

And I think hot water.

Mushy, more blankets.
- Yes, sir.

- Is there anything happening?
- No, not yet.

- Well, isn't there something that I...?
- Don't worry, you'll know.

Here. You look
like you need this.

What I need, you ain't got.

- Women.
- Oh, I know how you feel.

Yeah, me too.

Look at this.

Must be at least
a ton of it. Junk.

And I helped cart it all
the way from Scotland.

And them bulls, think
they was part of the family.

Family?

Say, Whiting, you
know, you may be right.

Maybe they are family.

To a woman, everything
she owns is part of her family.

And this junk's got family
written all over it, doesn't it?

Oh, yeah, sure.

- Especially this here bathtub.
- Now...

Now, I know

females are hard to
understand at times,

especially with
things like dowries.

But you gotta be calm and
sensible about it, like me.

You got to look to
the other side of it.

Now, stop and think
about it, Whiting.

All this junk... I mean, all these
priceless family heirlooms here,

they represent
400 years of living.

The heritage of a family

that was making history before
Lewis and Clark ever realized

there was unmapped
territory west of the Mississip.

Now, of course, I know it
doesn't mean much to you or me,

but to a woman...

Well, I gotta admit, I ain't
never quite looked at it that way.

Yeah, that's right, Whiting,

you just haven't been
thinking of it right.

Well, uh, just think of it.

You're liable to be the only
man in this whole territory

who has his own
personal iron suit.

Yeah. Yeah, Rowdy.

Of course, uh,

well, it'd take a lot of
doing to meet her halfway.

It'd take an awfully
big man to pull that off.

Oh, I don't know.

Oh, I don't know.

What's in this, boiled rocks?

Oh, that's just a little
calcium and phosphorus.

That's the best thing in
the world for a new father.

Oh.

Is he still here?

If he don't quit
pacing out there,

he's gonna dig a trench
right through our camp.

Well, it's all an act.
He doesn't care.

- Not really.
- I don't know.

He seemed like a
reasonable enough man.

Reasonable? After what... Oh.

I'll take your word for it.

Now, you just save your
strength. You're gonna need it.

Well, I still say
he doesn't care.

Well, any man that's done
as much trailing as he has

has to care some.

When he first come in here, he looked
like he was shopping for a pine box.

Heh. He did look a
bit starchy, didn't he?

Well, he's gonna look a lot
worse before he looks any better,

unless you do
something about it.

What can I do?

You can meet him
halfway, that's what.

Yes, but I don't...

Oh, Mr. Wishbone. Oh.

It's all right. I'm here. Just
keep talking. Just keep talking.

Hush-a-bye baby on the treetop

That's just wonderful.

Come on, hurry.

You're gonna scare
him half to death.

It's a boy.

Oh, another little... - Whiting.

All right, mister, you
can go see your family.

Yeah.

Harkness,

I think that I will
have a cup of coffee.

Yes, sir.

Are you sure you're all right?

Yes, of course I'm all right.

You asked me that three times.

Yes.

Look at your son.

Look at that.

I think Macbeth is a nice name.

- Don't you agree?
- Mac...?

Well, we better get started.

Get started?

- But you just had a...
- Hitch up the team.

You don't think I'm going
home without my dowry, do you?

We better get to rounding
up them strays again.

Oh, no. You two are
going on drag to stay.

The only way I can make
sure the right strays come back

is to do it myself.

All right, all right.

I'll go along with
the battle standards

- and the Orkney crockery.
- That's decent of you.

But if you think you're gonna spread
that crazy pewter around my office,

you got yourself
another think coming.

Mr. Whiting, the
pewter is not crazy.

And it goes with that
dungeon that you call an office.

And as for that fool bag of wind

or whatever you call it...

Bagpipe, Mr. Whiting, bagpipe.

Whatever it is, you play it
down in the south meadow,

where my ears can stand it, or
so help me, I'll burn the fool bag...

You so much as touch it,

and my great-grandfather's
battle ax will need scouring again.

Head them up!

Move them out!