 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. This one's fresh killed. And fresh skin, sir. How many buffaloes we found this way? We come on ten with this one. The men are fanning out, looking for more. They wouldn't be far away if there are more. They're right dumb, aren't they, Captain? Buffalo must be the dumbest critters they is. Well, couldn't call them crafty, but they're half-blind. Can't see trouble when they're heading right into it. Little tenant Cybert's back from the agency yet? Well, yes, sir. He brought the wagon. They're loading carcasses in it back by the wall. They better get a move on. The meat'll cook in this heat. Captain, you got the feeling there's something wrong? Wrong? Well, I've seen engines kill buffalo before, lots of them. But I never seen them leave this much meat on them. Maybe agency life is making them lazy, Gorse. Maybe their bellies are too full. Now, you don't think that, Captain. I sure don't. I'm gonna talk to Mr. Cybert. Oh, uh, are all of them cut this way? I think so. I didn't rightly study them, though. Then study them. All of them. Let me know what you find. Yes, sir. Have any trouble getting the wagon, Mr. Cybert? Oh, oh, no, sir. The agency ain't glad to know we were bringing meat in. That seemed odd to you. Well, no, sir. I never saw an Indian agency that couldn't use food. Neither did I. Oh, excuse me, sir. All right, man. You can move the wagon. I'll pick up the rest of the carcasses. Just a minute. Yes, sir. I'm gonna take a look at these. Hold on a minute. All right, man. Carry on. Yes, sir. A lot of waste there, sir. Yeah. Yeah, a lot of waste. How far did the agency? About five miles? That's right. You went there. You got the wagon from the agent. He said they'd be glad to get the meat. That all he said, Mr. Cybert? I think so, sir. Oh, one thing he said when we first rode up. Yes? He asked us if we'd been engaged to battle. Uh-huh. Said that early this morning, you heard a lot of gunfire. Yeah, I bet they did. Captain, wait, sir. Yes, Sergeant? Carcasses all of them, like you said. They're all cut the same way. Skinned with the hump ribs cut away? And that's all. The men locate anymore? No, sir, just the tent. According to Mr. Cybert's, the Indian agent claims he heard a lot of gunfire this morning. Well, it was a clear morning. The sound would carry all right. You saw the wagon tracks, Captain. Yeah, I saw them. Tell the men to get a move on with their loading, Sergeant. Form a detail to haul the carcasses to the agency. Yes, sir. We'll rendezvous at the fork of the raw hide and proceed back to Fort Laramie. Yes, sir. Captain Quince, what about the wagon tracks? All right, Jenkins. You see these tracks here? The fresh ones? The wagon that was just here. That's right. Now, over here. There. You see those? Yes, sir. They're not as fresh, but you can sure see them. Our wagon wasn't over here, Captain. And it wasn't down there where they're loading now. Or over yonder where the last carcasses were found. Well, that's right, sir, but... Indians don't hunt buffalo with wagons, Mr. Cybert's. And when they kill buffalo with guns or arrows, they don't just skin them, cut the hump ribs free, and leave the rest to rot in the prairie. From its horns to its chips, Indians use all the buffalo. You think white men did this, Captain? I'm thinking white men. And if buffalo hunters are moving up to the high plains, we got trouble, Mr. Cybert's. That's reservation land, Captain. That didn't make much matter to them, Major. You seem very sure this is the work of buffalo hunters, not Indians. If it's Indians, they've changed their whole tradition of hunting buffalo and killing them. I tell you, these were fresh-killed, and the only meat gone was the hump ribs. Well, that's the best meat. To you and me, yeah. But the Indians eat everything in a buffalo, including... I know, Lee, I know. What they don't eat on the spot, they take with them, even the horns. Always use the horns for tools, implements, don't they? Well, always. I still hope you're wrong, Lee. It's a small hope, but it's there. I'd like to be dead wrong, but I saw too much. And the Indian agent heard too much. The battle? Remember, Texas, to get a clear morning, you could hear those buffalo guns roaring for miles. Enough of them? Sound like a pitch battle. Wonder if they're still packing those old sharps 50s. They're awful heavy. Gotta be. They shoot out slugs, 125 grains of powder, 600 grains of lead, sometimes more. The army struggles along with 450 grain slugs. We're not killing buffalo. No, we're not. You know the position the army's in as well as I do. White men aren't allowed on reservations to hunt, to mine, to anything. We can warn them if we see them before they move into Indian territory. If we catch them there, we can run them off, bring them back to the guardhouse. But we gotta see them first. We may not see them, Major. Until it's too late, we may not ever see them. And then the army will be in another position. What other position? Fighting a war. Here, sirs, we can load it. Powerful heart, you're sitting here. Well, you set, you hear? I hear. Hey, soldier, let's hear the subtlest storm. That's it, mister. Much blithe. You got yourself some knife there, ain't you? Sharp as your eyes, soldier. Straight blade, huh? This one has got them curved too. They're nice. You like curved knives better, do you? I like what I need. Sometimes I need a straight blade. Sometimes I need them curved. What kind of man's got a need for knives, straight blade or curved? You golden me, soldier. I'd be a fool to go to man sharpening a fine knife. You would. You'd be a plain fool. Fine edge coming. Fine edge. It's your business, cutting things? Let me show you that curved blade, soldier. Now, look at that. Isn't that pretty the way it half circles? You think it's pretty. It fits your neck, soldier. Right close and neat like. Now, that's what I call pretty, the fit of it. Pretty enough? Looks dull to me. It gets dull, cutting. Before I cut a man's throat with it, I'd see it was razor sharp. I will. I'll tender that right now. But I'll keep that straight blade handy. In case I run into a soldier who wants to go to body. I knew a man like you once. Looked the same, acted the same, talked the same. He was from Texas. This man I knew. A lot of good men from Texas. This man, he was a skinner. A lot of good men are skinners. This man, though, he got himself killed. How's a man gonna get himself killed, skin and buffalo? He made the mistake. This Texas man going into engine territory, went up into the engine nation, got himself killed. You don't know nothing about skinning. I heard about this, man. You're a dumb, soldier. Dumbs can be. I ain't dumb enough to skin buffalo in engine country. I make $50 a month of my keep. With that, I get 50 cents a hit on every buffalo I skin. You do it fast, mister? After I do it, the more money I make. I'm not sure I'd admire to see you at your work. Yeah, you would. I would. I never seen a real good skinner at work. You mean? You wanted to please a body. You could tell him how you said about your work. You thinking about turning skinner? Oh, I don't think I got the gift for it. Of course, I'm a will in hand and all that. How are you unthinking? I'm not too good to tell the truth. You might make a skinner's that. The thinking part, what's done of it, that's the hunter's job. Old Jake Cuppey there. He's got to find the herd. Do the shooting. Jake Cuppey? In the subtlers, he's buying lead now in powder. He's got a line on a big herd. Where? What do I care? A big herd, soldier. He'll get me there and do the killing. What I got to do is traipse after him and skin him. You was going to tell me how you manage that. You see, he worked with a good hunter. That comes first. Old Jake Cuppey, he's good. He shoots them right in the lights. Lights? The lights, the lungs. Now here, I thought a good hunter would take aim on his heart. The heart? No. You hit one in the heart. Even square in the heart. He's going to run all over on you before he dies. Charging around, pouring the earth, carrying on. Don't need a skinner wasting his self-moving all over. I can see that. You hit one in the lights, soldier. He may take a step at you, but no more than that. He drops right on the spot. You know how I mean? Skinner don't go to first one spot, then another. Well, he don't waste his self. I understand. And a gift you talk about. I got it for fair. I come on him. At first, I rip him down the belly from the throat to the tail. With a straight blade. More than likely, yeah, yeah. Then I cut down each his legs. Go around his head, clean up to his ears. Listen here. I figured the curved blade there. Now, myself, I don't bother with the rest of the head. I right away set to roll the skin back. Just first started. Then I draw a rope tight on the little flap of his neck that's free, see? Uh-huh. And I make the other end faster the team and, you know, I kick them up. Then pulling that away, shook that high right off in that animal. And that's a sight. I'll tell you that's a sight. I just bet it is. $0.50. Every time I do it, I skin this artist as high as $0.50 a day. Now that amongst the... Well, old J Copy usually does that counting up for me. I guess you think a lot of Mr. Cuppey, huh? What I gotta think are him. I like Skinner-Soldier. That's what I like. You putting up here at Ford Larimer's spell? Tonight, anyway. I mean, Bologna, what do you care? As long as you're here, I just want to learn all I can from you. That's all. It's a good life. A lot of good men are skinners. Jake Cuppey, mister. How's that? Your name. It's Jake Cuppey. You don't want to steal up on a man a disease captain. Mind make him edgy. I make you edgy, mister. I'm getting over it. Sit down as long as you're here. Oh, here, I'll move my rifle aside. You got your eye on it, too. I've seen Big 50s before. I declare it opens a man's eyes, stopping off at an army post. First you tell me I'm welcome to put up with enlisted men here, and then the only ones that come poking around are officers. That's all? How come you know about Big 50s? Lieutenant claimed he'd never seen one before. Mr. Cybert's never saw a buffalo hunter before. Well, he's seen one now. Where do you find them? Like him, so full of book learning. We find all kinds, mister. Yeah, well, you found one there. Now, he's up on all the law in these parts. I'm not talking about your army law now. I'm talking territory law. I think that's how you said it. Something about there's a time of year you can't shoot through what Lieutenant calls wildlife. There's a law. About hunting? First territorial assembly passed it. It's called wildlife conservation. Well, I declare it. And here I thought the army was a shooting outfit. It is, mister. Now, I'm going to tell you what I told the Lieutenant. You're going to make laws out here. You make them about the engines. But you leave a white man to his work. You hear? Must be you've shot up all the herds in the South Plains. Oh, I wouldn't take all the credit for that. Others got their due coming. I'm gnawing at you, Captain. Same way you're gnawing at me. You spoke your peace. You're wrong, mister. That's another thing. I'm almost never wrong. There's a treaty law that says you can't go into Indian territory. That means all the land north of Fort Laramie. I'm getting to my word about the army. Ain't they doing any killing no more? We're obliged to warn you. If you do go in, we can't protect you. I just don't recollect Aston for any protection. You ought to come along, Captain. He's hunting for a real sporting man. I saw some of your slaughter the other day. That's real sporting. Now you hear me what I say. I get paid on how many buffalo hides I ship. That's fine. Now then, folks in the East, they're developing a taste for buffalo meat. All I gotta do is get it to the railroad. And that's fine. I get paid for that, too. I'd hate to have to fight a war. On your account, mister. Maybe I'd be on your side. I'm good at shooting. Now tell you what. You figure price on Indian hides. Indian meat. Maybe I will be on your side, Captain. This is Kid Carson country, isn't it, Captain? Along the Powder River? He was up here, sure. On the bottoms of the Powder. It was black with buffalo then. Well, the big herds are still up this way, aren't they? The Indians think so. That's good enough for me. And for Jake Cuppey, apparently. You take men like Kid Carson, now he was a trapper, a hunter, but you hear good things about him. The Indians like him. You're not comparing Carson to Cuppey, are you, Mr. Cybert? No, sir, I'm trying to figure out the difference. Both seem to be after the same things. Maybe, maybe. The early trappers, the hunters, the mountain men, they learned a lot from the Indians. Made friends with them, like you say. But more, they came to hunt like Indians hunt. You mean they hunted as they had need? More that they knew what conservation meant even then. But if you kill more than the herd can bear young, you'll run out of quarry. A man like Cuppey now, he likes a slaughter. I hope we find him, Captain. I hope we find him. In time, Mr. Cybert. The wagon tracks we're following, Captain. Now, what about them? It looks like they stopped just ahead, sir, right at that line of trees. Patrol, hold! They could be in there, Captain, Cuppey and Guffey. They could, Mr. Cybert. Come on, Gorse. Yes, sir. Sergeant Gorse and I are going to move flat into the trees, Mr. Cybert. Now, the patrol will stand the covers. Yes, sir. One shot out of those trees and you move in. Right, Captain. All right, Sergeant. Run and crouch down to the brush. Then we move flat in our bellies. Yes, sir. Let's go. Some high-bed wagons like Gophie have. They move through here better than we do, Captain. I can't see Cuppey making a camp here. I can't see him coming in here. Over the army's warning. Just about to the trees, Gorse. Don't straighten till we're in them. Yes, sir. All right, now. As thick as they look, Captain. Head there, Gorse. The wagon. It's Gophie's wagon, all right. Some hides here in the bed. His team's gone. Must be thinking to drag the hides back here. From how far away, I wonder. I don't know. I'm trying to figure them, Captain. I can see they might hide the wagon so as we couldn't follow its tracks, but we can track horses who's just as well. Not this way, Gorse. Green sacks, well, sure. Yeah. They fix green sacks to their hooves that muffles the sound. Leaves almost no hoof prints. They're smarter than they act, Captain. Are they, Gorse? Huh. Buffalo guns. That's one sound they can't muffle. Come on, Sergeant. Fred and five miles at least, Captain, and no sound to guide us for the last three. Don't need sound with a sign like that ahead, Mr. Cybert. That brown haze like dust? It is dust. It means a big herd. Probably been stampeded. There's bottom land just after that rise where a clear creek feeds into the powder. We'll make for that. Yes, sir. At the gallop. I said it was a big herd. But it's like a massacre. Must be a thousand buffaloes. It is a massacre. That much killing of anything without cause. It is a massacre. Well, Jake Cuppey, he couldn't have shot them all. He could shoot enough with Goffy helping. Likely the rest were stampeded to death. Slaughter, that's all you can call it. I don't see how it could happen so much of it. Buffalo don't have much eyesight. They count on smelling signs of danger. Cuppey's trick is to shoot from far enough away so they can't smell him. We better... We better go down there, Mr. Cybert's. Cuppey, would he cause all this and then hide out, Captain? He might. Known we'd be coming after him. Known he and Goffy couldn't hope to haul them all out before we got here. You seen any that's been skinned? No, sir, not a one. Captain Quintz? That explains a lot of things. I come on their horses first down further. They're shot full-air, it's two. Both of them are still warm, Captain. They haven't been dead long. Thousand dead buffalo. Two dead men. That's a lot of death, a lot of waste. The engines must still be around, Captain. Yeah, they'd still be around. Up in the hills, likely. Those arrows, sir, they're in Cuppey and Goffy and the horses, but not the buffalo. The Indians weren't after buffalo, Mr. Cybert's. Come on, let's move out. Captain, we'll have to fight the Indians for this. Not today. Not this patrol. But this isn't the last of the buffalo hunters. Moral come all the time, and we'll fight wars over it. We've got to just leave things this way? The sooner we go, Mr. Cybert's, the sooner the Indians will move down and get the meat and the hides. Sometimes all a man can do is turn, walk away. Fort Laramie is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald and stars Raymond Burr as Lee Quince, Captain of Cavalry, with Vic Perron 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 James Nussar and Barney Phillips. Jack Moyles is Major Daggett and Harry Bartell is Lieutenant Cybert's. Company, tension, dismiss. Next week, another transcribed story of the Northwest Frontier and the troopers who fought under Lee Quince, Captain of Cavalry. 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