Somebody's coming, Pa.
Well... Let him come.
Hope you don't mind|my cutting through your place.
- No, I guess not.|- I'm heading north.
Didn't expect to find|any fences around here.
Hello, boy.
- You were watching me, weren't you?|- Yes, I was.
I like a man who watches|things goin' around.
It means he'll make his mark some day.
Long time since I've seen a Jersey cow.
You'll see a lot more.|Jerseys and Holsteins...
...and the like.
- Can I offer you some water?|- Thanks.
You're a little touchy.
Joey!
- You know not to point guns at people.|- I wasn't pointing at anybody, Mother.
Sure had me snortin', son.
I just wanted you to see my rifle.
Bet you can shoot.
- Can't you?|- Little bit.
Looks like your friends are a little late.
What are the Ryker boys up to this time?
- Rykers?|- That's what I said.
I wouldn't know a Ryker|from your Jersey cow.
Don't forget to close the gate|on your way out.
Would you put down that gun?|Then I'll leave.
What's the difference?|You're leaving anyway.
I'd like it to be my idea.
Howdy, Starrett.
Expectin' trouble?
I don't want no trouble, Starrett.|I came to inform you.
I got that reservation beef contract.
- So many to tell me that?|- I mean business.
- Then, tend to your own.|- That's just what I'm doin'.
I'm gonna need all my range.
Now you've warned me,|get off my place.
Your place?
You'll have to get out before the snow.
- Supposin' I don't?|- You and the other squatters.
- Homesteaders, you mean.|- I could blast you outta here right now.
Listen to me. The time for gun-blastin'|a man off his place is passed.
- They're building a penitentiary...|- Joe, that's enough.
Who are you, stranger?
I'm a friend of Starrett's.
Well, Starrett, you can't say|I didn't warn you.
All right, you've told me.|Now get off my claim.
Supper'll be ready in a little while, Joe.|Won't be very long.
Wait, mister, I...
I swear, I... Wait a minute, please.
I take that back, what I...
Look, this... this thing ain't even loaded.
- Not loaded?|- No, Joey's too young to go loaded.
That's his gun.
If this don't beat all!
My name is Starrett, Joe Starrett,|and this here's Joey.
You heard what my little woman said.|Come on in, I feel like eatin'.
- You can call me Shane.|- Guess I spook kinda easy these days.
Hello, Joe.
My place ain't very much yet,|but my wife sure can cook!
It won't be long till supper.|You can wash up right here.
In case you wanted to know,|that's Ryker's spread all over there.
He thinks the whole world|belongs to him.
The old-timers can't see it yet,
but runnin' cattle|on an open range can't go on.
It takes too much space|for too little results.
Those herds aren't any good,|they're all horns and bone.
Cattle that is bred for meat and fenced in|and fed right, that's the thing.
You gotta pick your spot,|get your land, your own land.
A homesteader can't run but a few beef,|but he can grow grain,
and then with his garden|and hogs and milk, he'll be all right.
We make out, don't we, Marian?
Of course.
It's that calf again.|Joey, chase her out of there.
Joey! Run on, son.
Don't forget to shut that gate.
Joey!
Come on, shoo!
I wouldn't ask you where you're bound.
One place or another.|Some place I've never been.
- The only way I'll leave is in a pine box.|- What do you mean, Pa?
I mean they'll have to shoot me|and carry me out.
- You shouldn't talk like that.|- It's the truth.
You love this place.|We've got our roots down.
- I wish you wouldn't talk that way.|- Our first real home.
- What did you mean...?|- Joey, be quiet. The men want to talk.
There's just more work here|than I can do.
If I could hire me a man that...
I had one once,|but the Rykers roughed him up,
so he lit out, cussin' me...
They knocked his teeth out.
Ready for pie?
If nobody else is gonna eat this biscuit,|I guess I'll have to.
- We're kind of fancy, aren't we?|- What is, Pa?
Good plates, an extra fork...
What about me, Ma?
- What's the matter, Marian?|- Nothing.
That was an elegant dinner, Mrs Starrett.
Excuse me.
Where's Mr Shane going?|He didn't even say goodbye.
He's not going, Joey.|He wouldn't go without taking that.
I'm going outside with him.
- Did you ask him to stay the night?|- I'll do that right now.
Well, I'll be doggone.|Come here a minute.
Joe, why don't you hitch up the team?
Marian, I've been fighting this stump|off and on for two years.
Use the team now,|this stump could say it beat us.
Sometimes nothing will do|but your own sweat and muscle.
All right.
Bang! Bang!
I wish they'd give me|some bullets for this gun.
- Good morning, Joey.|- How did you know it was me?
Well, I figured the cow|couldn't work that latch.
- Why are you up so early?|- You're to stay for breakfast.
Oh... Well, thank you.
- Then where will you go?|- Where would you say, Joey?
I wish you'd stay here.
- Would you teach me to shoot?|- You'd like to learn to shoot?
Pa wishes you'd stay, too.|I heard him tell Mother.
He said he didn't want you|to fight his fights for him,
just help with the work.
I bet you wouldn't leave|just because it's dangerous.
Joey!
Joey, come here this minute.
I hope you'll stay, Mr Shane.|Coming, Mother!
Close the gate, Joey.
What are you doing in your nightshirt?|Come in and put your clothes on.
Would you like to hitch up the team|and haul that wire from Grafton's?
- Anything you say.|- Get off the bed. Go on!
He's holding it for me at the store.
While you're there, you might as well|get yourself some work clothes.
- What can I bring Joey?|- Soda-pop!
You don't need anything, Joey.
Be careful. I don't want my troubles|to be none of yours.
Aren't you wearing your six-shooter?
I didn't know there was|any wild game in town, Joey.
Come on, son.
Joey, come back here!
Bang!
Bang!
- Who are you shootin' at?|- Rykers. Bang!
- Did you get many?|- Missed one.
Well, can't stand for that.
Pa, do you guess|Shane will teach me to shoot?
I'll teach you myself|once I get the time, Joey.
- Can you shoot as good as Shane?|- I've never seen him shoot.
But I doubt it.
He didn't wear his gun today.|Why's that, Pa?
Well, he's tradin' at the store,|not holdin' it up.
But why, Pa? Honest, why didn't he?
- I don't wear one myself.|- It goes with him, though.
- Somebody's coming, Joe.|- I know. It's Ernie Wright.
Could you whip him, Pa?|Could you whip Shane?
- Can't you ask nothing but questions?|- But could you?
Oh, maybe.
No call for that though, Joey.|Shane's on our side.
Howdy, Joe.
How are you, Ernie?
- No good.|- What's the matter?
I'm pulling stakes.|No use of your talking.
- Now what's the matter?|- My wheat. Them Rykers raided it.
Fence cut, steers drove in.|It's just stubs now.
- When?|- Last night.
I'm leaving, and don't try|to talk me out of it.
- You can't...|- Just don't try, that's all.
- I listened to you too much already.|- Go ahead, nobody's holding you.
You wouldn't leave|your home and land, and...
Oh, Ernie, you...
I'm wore down and out. Tired of being|insulted by them fellas.
Called a pig-farmer.|Who knows what comes next?
Well, don't throw your tail up.
Tell you what, we'll all get together here|tonight and figure out something.
I don't know about me.
I'll get the word around.|You tell Shipstead and Torrey.
All right,|but if we're having a meeting,
it'd better be more than pokin' holes|in the air with your finger.
- Anything I can do you for?|- I came to get wire for Joe Starrett.
I've been holding wire|for Starrett for quite a spell.
- Are you new?|- Yes, I'm working for Starrett.
- Got ready-made pants to fit me?|- Farm rig?
I outfit all these farmers.
- Step right in back and try 'em on.|- Thanks.
Will.
Hey, Will.
You're thirsty, ain't you, Chris?
- Will! Who's tendin' bar round here?|- Comin' right in.
- How is it?|- Good enough.
- How much do I owe you?|- Now, let's see...
Pants, a dollar. Two shirts, 60 cents.
Belt...
Young man, you owe me|two dollars and two bits.
What's the matter, son?|You look kinda pale.
Been a long time since|I got store-bought clothes.
Money don't go very far these days.
A new sodbuster?
Thought I smelled pigs.
- Anything else?|- Got any soda-pop?
I sure do. I wish more men|around here would drink it.
- In my bar, in there.|- Thanks.
Will! Let's keep the smell of pigs|out from where we're drinking.
- Bartender.|- What can I do for you?
Do you have any soda-pop?
Are you gonna get him out|or do I have to?
Let me take him, Chris.
What'll it be?
Lemon, strawberry or lilac, sodbuster?
You speaking to me?
I don't see|nobody else standing there.
Here, have some of this.
Smell like a man.
Don't it smell better in here, Grafton?|Chris just fumigated a sodbuster.
Just take it easy.
I was just asking about sody-pop,
pigs and taters|and one thing and another.
Which one of them tater-pickers|are you working for?
Or are you just|squatting on the range?
Joe Starrett, if it's any of your business.
Supposing I make it my business?
Here's your soda-pop, mister.
Now you and your soda-pop|get outta here and stay outta here.
And don't come back!
Did you see that, Rufe?|Chris just put the run on a sodbuster.
That's it. Keep 'em on the move.
Warm it up for you?
It's getting so I don't like|to ride at night.
Let's hope the meeting starts...
- Is Shane going to be at the meeting?|- Mr Shane. Yes, I suppose so.
We all know why we're here.
Ryker's war-party's|been around to see all of us.
I'm here to tell you,|I ain't leavin' now or any other time.
Start with you, Axel. What do you say?
Well, Joe, you see...
I know what I want to say.|Start with me.
Ernie, we're gonna hear|everybody in turn. Go ahead.
Most of you don't know Shane.
- Shane, this is Yank Potts.|- Howdy.
- Fred Lewis here.|- I seen you in town.
Ernie Wright here, and Ed Howells.
- And Johnson.|- Howdy, Shane.
- See anybody else coming?|- No.
- We're waiting for Torrey.|- How far is Ryker gonna push us?
Let's not talk scared,|that's what Ryker wants.
He thinks he can shoo us off|like a flock of chickens.
Here's Torrey.
- Hello, Reb.|- Hello, Yank.
About time you showed up.
That's enough out of you, Yank.
- And you, too.|- All right. Cool off, Stonewall.
Shake hands with Shane, there.|Shane's working for me.
Shane. Oh, yeah...
I heard about you, at Grafton's.
Go on, Joe.
Well, Stonewall, it's like this...|Leaving Ernie out, maybe,
we've all agreed we're gonna stick.
Now you're whistling.|Ain't nobody pushing me off my claim.
- I think you all know that I'm staying.|- I, too, will stay.
I'll string along,|leastways till the shooting starts.
There ain't but seven of us,|if it comes to a fight.
- Him.|- That's eight.
- Can't count on him.|- He's proved that much.
Watch what you're saying.
Shane can tell you what happened|with Ryker's man, Chris.
They're talking about Shane!
What is this, Shane?
Let him say.
- Lewis seen and heard it.|- He let Chris buffalo him at Grafton's.
Fred, I told Shane|to stay away from trouble.
- Let's finish the story.|- He didn't. Shane didn't let him do that!
This Chris went around bragging|he put the run on a sodbuster.
Shane, you don't have to leave.
I figured you could talk freer|if I weren't around.
It's too late to finish this now.
- He didn't, did he?|- Joey, I want you to go to sleep.
- It's all right, everything's all right.|- Shane isn't going away?
No, he isn't. Now, get back into bed.
Stay there.
- Shane.|- Shane!
- I know you ain't afraid.|- It's a long story, Joey.
I think we know...
...Shane.
Don't stand in the rain.|You'll catch your death of cold!
So, on Saturday, we'll get together|and go into town for our supplies.
That's a good idea.|There's some strength in a whole bunch.
I don't need no bodyguard.|I'll put on my.38 and go when I please.
- Joey.|- Yes?
Don't get to liking Shane too much.
Why not?
I don't want you to.
- Is there anything wrong with him?|- No.
- Then what, Mother?|- He'll be moving on one day, Joey.
You'll be upset,|if you get to liking him too much.
- Marian, you're pretty enough, come on!|- I'm coming!
I wish she'd hurry so we could get going.|I don't like this business.
Get in the wagon, son.
One thing a married man has|to get used to is waiting for women.
- Hurry up, Ma!|- Here she comes.
- Good afternoon.|- Hello.
Sometimes the waiting is worth it.
Take care and get a woman|worth waiting for.
Water's good.
Think I can get ready|as quickly as you?
Hold your horses, we wanted|to see how pretty you were.
Come on here.
All set?
Come on, girls!
- Hello!|- Morning.
- Are you all set?|- Reckon we are.
- Hello, Marian!|- Where's Stonewall?
He got thirsty and went on in.|Said he had business that couldn't wait.
I got to stay and mind the girls.
- Bye!|- Bye!
- Come on, Red.|- Bye, Marian!
Stonewall, what are you doing?|We agreed to come together.
I had a little business to attend to.|We can't buy a drink.
Get down off that horse.|You're acting like a darn fool.
A whole bunch came in. They brought|their women to protect them.
- My jars come yet?|- Howdy, Starrett. What can I do you for?
My, my, my...!
What will they think of next?
Susan!
- Did you bring your mother's list?|- Yes, Pa.
Get the coal oil can from the wagon.
My woman want we get together|on the Fourth of July.
We make big celebration,|don't we, Marian?
Fine, that's just what we need.
It's Joe Starrett's anniversary,|the Fourth of July.
- We'll have a big party.|- Mr Grafton...
Have you got gunpowder|for the fireworks?
- How about some of those jellies...?|- We'll talk about that later.
- What do I get for the empty?|- The usual.
- Thank you.|- Give the bottle to Will.
I need some white flour, Mr Grafton,|and four pounds of coffee.
Joey.
- Let me take it in.|- You come, too, Shane.
Thank you.
Well, now looky here what we got.
That's one of the new ones.|They call him Sody-Pop.
- Deal me out.|- What's the matter, Pete?
Just say I'm superstitious, that's all.
I guess you don't hear very well,|sodbuster.
I told you, if you want to keep healthy,|stay out of here. Now, get going.
Look, pig-farmer. Get back with|the women and kids, where it's safe.
Don't push it, Calloway.
Did you hear me? I said get going.
Did you think you were gonna come|and drink with the men?
Set 'em up, bartender. Two whiskies.
You bought me a drink|last time I was in here.
Now I want to buy you one.
You ain't gonna drink that in here.
You guessed it.
Let me have him.
- Let him go.|- Let me have him.
Go get him, Chris.
Tear him apart!
Get that sodbuster.
- Hang one on him, Chris.|- Bust him.
Break his back.
This is bad, this is bad.
- I'm going in there.|- No, Stonewall, stay right here.
If we join in, we'll get run out.
- Go on!|- Go get him, Chris.
There ain't a marshal|within a hundred-mile ride.
Get after him, Chris.
Plough him under, Chris.
Beat his brains out!
Get him!
- Land that right, Chris.|- Knock him into that pigpen, Chris!
Dirty pig-farmer!
- Stop this!|- Go on, get at it.
Here, men, stop this!
Settle it outside.
- Looks like it's all over.|- We should get out of here.
- Maybe you'd like to draw straws.|- Hold on, young fella.
You may have a friend|you don't know you've got.
- I could use a man like you.|- I'm working for Starrett.
You don't belong on the end of a shovel.|Anything to stop you drawin' your time?
I like working for Starrett.
- Whatever he's paying, I'll double.|- It's no use.
- What are you looking for?|- Nothing.
- Pretty wife, Starrett's got.|- You dirty old man!
- People don't talk to me that way.|- I'm talking that way.
You had a chance. Nobody messes up|my boys and gets away with it.
We'll ride you out of this valley.
Gonna rough you up and ride you out|and you're gonna stay out.
- Shane, come on!|- Joey, get out of here.
But, Shane, there's too many.
You wouldn't want me to run away,|would you?
But there's too many, Shane.
Go on, son, please.
- Stop!|- I'll pay the damages.
- No more fighting.|- Keep outta this.
- This man's unarmed.|- It ain't a shooting.
Quit butting in.
I'll take him.
Stop it, men! Stop fighting!
Stop it, men.
Stop this!
Break his neck!
- Where's Joey?|- Pa, they're going to kill Shane!
- They're trying to kill him!|- Stay with your mother.
- Don't go in.|- Shane's in there.
What Ryker's got coming|ain't fit for a woman to see.
Don't go in there, Joe...
Beat his brains in!
Stop it!
Stop it!
Stop it! You fools have had enough of it.|You'll all get killed.
Starrett, you and Shane|back on out of here.
That's making some sense, Starrett.|You've won.
- Get out of here.|- Ryker ain't paying for this damage.
I'm paying for what's broke.
No, by Godfrey, we're paying|for what's broke, me and Shane!
Morgan, put one of the boys|on a good horse.
He's got a long trip,|all the way to Cheyenne.
I'm through fooling, Grafton.
From now on, when we fight with them,|the air's gonna be full of gunsmoke.
- I saw it all, Mother, every bit.|- It's no place for you, Joey.
No place for you either, Marian.
I was scared. Then Pa picked up|that man and slung him on the floor.
I didn't do much. It was all Shane.
- How are you feeling?|- Better.
You did, Joe.|It was ugly and you were both wonderful.
When that chair came down on you,|Shane, I thought you were a goner.
It was an easy chair, Joey.
I bet you two could lick anyone.
Well, one thing's for sure,|Ryker's gonna think twice.
- Don't talk about Ryker any more now.|- I wish we could forget him.
- This turpentine'll hurt.|- He wouldn't say nothing.
No matter how much it hurt.|Would you, Shane?
I'm afraid I would, Joey,|if it hurt bad enough.
- It stings like anything.|- Joey, go on to bed.
It does smart, I know.
- Ouch!|- Gosh!
- Joey, for the last time, go to bed.|- Yeah, me, too.
Come on, son.
- Will you kiss me goodnight, Mother?|- All right.
Your head...|Your head needs a bandage.
It's good enough, Marian, it's fine.|Thanks very much.
- You wanna know something, Mother?|- What is it?
- What is it, Joey?|- Mother...
- I just love Shane.|- Do you?
I love him almost as much as I love Pa.
That's all right, isn't it?
- He's a fine man.|- He's so good.
Don't you like him, Mother?
Yes, I like him, too, Joey.
Goodnight, Joey.
What's the matter, honey?
Joe...
Hold me.
Don't say anything. Just hold me tight.
- 'Night, Ma!|- Goodnight, Joey.
- 'Night, Pa!|- 'Night, son.
'Night, Shane!
Where's Ryker?
He's getting a little sleep.
- He sent for me.|- Sit down for a minute.
We're having a celebration today.
- Where's the coffee?|- I'll put it right on.
- What's going on here?|- Plenty.
- Going somewhere?|- Looks that way, don't it?
Don't let 'em bluff you, Ernie.
Bluff, huh?
See that?|They killed my sow last night.
Kept shooting|and yelling what they'd do next.
Woke up the kids and|scared the missus half to death.
- We're gonna put a stop to that.|- I said I'd stay for one more hand.
Well, this is it. I had enough of Ryker.
Here they come again!
Right through my ploughed ground.
What do you think of that,|Stonewall Torrey?
Starrett and the rest of us|are gonna take the juice out of 'em,
one of these days.
Anyhow, I'm going to Grafton's|to get a bottle.
- Show 'em it's Independence Day.|- Ma, you getting ready?
- Good luck.|- Good luck for you, too, Stonewall.
Can't see a pig in sight!
I don't see none,|but I sure can smell 'em.
They cut Mr Wright's fence|and Mr Shipstead's, too.
They did?
Shane, what would you do|if you caught them cutting our fence?
I'd ask them|to please go around by the gate.
Oh, Shane!
- Come on, I'll race you to the barn.|- It's a go!
Why don't you ever wear|your six-shooter, Shane?
I guess I don't see|as many bad men as you do.
Shane.
- You want me to tell you something?|- If you want to.
I saw your gun in there, one day.
- I took a look at it.|- Oh?
- Are you mad?|- No, I guess not.
But if I were you,|I'd leave a thing like this alone.
- I wrapped it up in the blanket again.|- That's a good boy.
Could I see it again?
You promised you'd show me|how to shoot.
Please!
All right, Joey. Come on.
Get 'em up!
We've got some learning to do!|Come on.
You stand right here.
All right, put your arms|down to your side.
Your holster's too low.|Never have your holster at arm's length.
Let's fix this.
You always have it here, with the grip|between the elbow and the wrist.
So when your hand comes up,
the gun clears the holster|without coming up too high, see?
Now you try it, real fast and straight.|That's it.
- Gosh! Is that what real gunfighters do?|- No, Joey.
Most of them have tricks of their own.
One, for instance,|likes a shoulder holster.
Another one puts it|in the belt of his pants.
And some like two guns.|But one's all you need if you can use it...
...after 15 paces. No good for putting|a bullet where you want it.
Which is the best way?
What I'm telling you is as good as any,|better than most.
- Let me see you shoot.|- What do you want me to shoot at?
The little white rock over there, see?
Gosh, almighty, that is good!
You see, Joey?|Now look. Remember.
When your hand comes up,|you still clear your holster.
- Shane.|- Hello, Mrs Starrett.
- I was teaching Joey a little shooting.|- I don't want...
You ought to see Shane shoot.|He's teaching me.
- Yes, I know. Get ready for the party.|- Oh, Ma!
Guns aren't going to be my boy's life.
Why do you always|have to spoil everything?
A gun is a tool,|no better or worse than any other tool,
an axe, a shovel, or anything.
A gun is as good or as bad|as the man using it. Remember that.
We'd all be better off|if there wasn't a single gun in this valley,
including yours.
What's all the shooting about?
You're starting the celebrating|a little early, aren't you?
Well, look at that woman,|in her wedding dress!
Shane, you better hitch up that team,
'cause today we're really gonna|celebrate the Fourth of July!
I'm supposed to say to the squatters,|"I'm busted but you're welcome."
- It ain't that bad.|- That's easy for you to say.
I've been your friend a long time,|I'm reasonable.
- But something's got to give.|- Out here a man can go just so far.
I've gone along with the new law.|I've stayed away from gunfighting.
Sure, I've tried to buffalo the sodbusters.
You got to admit,|my men have kept their six-guns cased.
And now?
- I can guess what's on your mind.|- Keep your guesses to yourself.
- I like Joe Starrett.|- Fool oughta listen to reason.
- Your reason?|- What's the matter with you?
No offence, Rufe.
It's your own conscience eating on you.
Conscience!
Hello, Torrey.|Something I can do you for?
- A jug. It's the Fourth.|- Come in, come in.
Jug. And a whiskey.
Here's to you, Ryker,|for running Ernie Wright off his claim.
Another.
- Is that one of them?|- Yeah.
It's a downright dirty shame.|It's all he had and he worked hard for it.
I want to tell you something, Ryker.|He's running because he's a coward.
And here's to me, 'cause I ain't a coward|and you ain't getting my claim.
They're hot-headed.
You'd get him to draw|without any trouble.
It'd be easy.
You can't scare me|any more than you can Joe Starrett.
No. It's Starrett we want.
- Three cheers for Wyoming!|- The rest of you care to join me?
Drink a toast to the greatest state|in the Union?
I'm from Wyoming.
Here's to the independence|of the sovereign state of Alabama.
There you are.
I'm through with all you Yanks.|Listen, you Yankees...!
Hello, Axel.
You're late, Reb,|we took Richmond two hours ago!
- Everybody, come here...|- Marian!
You come too,|I have something important to tell you.
- Axel...|- Ja, Mama. Now...
You all know what today is.|It's Independence Day.
Except for one man here. Yes, sir.
This was the day Joe Starrett|got himself hooked, by golly!
Well, no...
- What I'd like to say is...|- Well, say it, Joe!
- I'd like to say that Axel's right.|- What did he say, Joe?
I gave up my independence|10 years ago today.
But no man ever gave it up|as easy as I did.
And what's more, I wouldn't trade|places with any man in this world.
- Good speech!|- Go on, Joe, give her a kiss.
Come here!
Congratulations.
Pass the word to the boys,|I got some cheer for us.
Many more, Joe!
We were ready to give you up,|you and Ernie.
Ernie's getting out today.|Packed up kit and caboodle.
- Been expecting that.|- Ryker's boys bluffed him out.
- Maybe he had sense.|- What were you doing in town?
- Joe, I want to dance.|- Marian, they've fenced me out here.
- Joe don't want you in town by yourself.|- It's just Ryker and Grafton gabbing.
Grafton's OK.
Another man was there,|likely hired by Ryker.
- Who was that?|- Stranger, decked out like a gunfighter.
- Did you say "guns"?|- Yeah, two guns.
- What did he look like?|- Packs two guns, kinda lean...
He wears a black hat.
- Is he a friend of yours?|- No.
A man named Wilson looks like that,|a gunfighter.
- Jack Wilson?|- Gunfighter outta Cheyenne.
- Can't be him, can it?|- I didn't ask him his name.
- What about him?|- What's a gunman doing around here?
- Pow-wow with Ryker?|- Don't start. We don't know it's Wilson.
This Wilson, would you know him,|Shane? If you saw him?
Maybe. If it is Wilson,|he's fast on the draw, so be careful.
You seem to know a lot about|this kind of business, Shane.
That is enough. Come and eat|before things get cold.
I don't want no part of gunslinging.|Murder's a better name.
We eat now, everyone.|You fellas get the shoe game!
Torrey, I want to go to the blacksmith's,
but Joe says we shouldn't go alone.
Any time you wanna go to town,|I'll ride along with you.
I'm a soldier who's done fighting|in real battles.
I can shoot just as straight...
Shane...
- Yes, Joey?|- Think that was him?
- Who?|- That man Torrey seen in town.
Do you think that was Wilson?
- Don't worry about things like that.|- Rest, Joey. It's past your bedtime.
Yes, Mother.
- No, Joey. I'll open it.|- All right.
All right. I'll open the gate for you.
Who goes there?
Brother Rufe's come|to pay you a little visit.
Howdy, Starrett.
Evening, ma'am.
I had somethin' I wanted|to talk over with you.
Whatever business we got,|we can talk over right here.
I'll just lay it on the barrelhead, then.|How'd you like to work for me?
I work for myself.|Done enough working for others.
Wait till I tell you.
I'll pay you top wages. More than|you make on this patch of ground.
No, I'm not interested.
I haven't said it all.|You can run your cattle with mine.
What's more, I'll buy your homestead.
Set a price you think is reasonable,|you'll find me reasonable.
Is that fair?
You've made things hard for us,|and we're in the right.
Right? You in the right?
When I came to this country,|you weren't much older than your boy.
We had rough times. Me and other men|that are mostly dead now.
I got a bad shoulder yet|from a Cheyenne arrowhead.
We made this country,|we found it and we made it,
with blood and empty bellies.
Cattle we brought in were hazed off|by Indians and rustlers.
They don't bother you much any more|because we handled 'em.
We made a safe range out of this.
Some of us died doing it,|but we made it.
Then people move in who never|had to raw-hide it through the old days.
They fence off my range|and fence me off from water.
Some of them plough ditches,|take out irrigation water.
So the creek runs dry sometimes|and I gotta move my stock because of it.
And you say we have no right|to the range.
The men that did the work|and ran the risks have no rights?
I take you for a fair man, Starrett.
I'm not belittling what you did,|but you didn't find this country.
There were trappers here|and Indian traders before you.
- They tamed this country.|- They weren't ranchers.
Rights! You think you've the right|to say nobody else has got any.
That ain't the way|the Government looks at it.
I didn't come to argue.|I made you a fair proposition.
What about the others?
- Shane knows he can work for me.|- The other homesteaders?
Look, be reasonable!
After all, there's just so many hands|in a deck of cards.
- Then, I've got to say no.|- You don't give a man much choice.
How do you feel about it, son?|Would you like to go partners with me?
I don't want trouble with your father.|We don't want anyone to get hurt.
- Joey ain't quite of age, Ryker.|- How about it, son?
Come here, Joey.
I don't want you to be sorry, Starrett.
I'll see you.
What do you make of him?
He's no cow-puncher.
No. He doesn't look the part.
I like Starrett, too,|but I'll kill him if I have to.
- I'll kill him if I have to.|- You mean I'll kill him if you have to.
I can't have any run-in with the law.|You heard Grafton.
Just get Starrett in here.|It wouldn't take much to bait him.
Well, looky here.
Looky here.
Why don't we just gun him|and get on with it?
One's run already.|It won't take much to stampede the rest.
Remember, Wilson, you got|to make this look right to Grafton.
Hey, come here!
Torrey... I wouldn't go over there, Torrey.
Nobody's gonna buffalo me.
- What can I do for you?|- Where do you think you're going?
- To get a whiskey.|- Torrey.
Torrey.
Torrey.
They tell me they call you "Stonewall".
- Anything wrong with that?|- It's just funny.
I guess they named a lot of that...
...Southern trash after old Stonewall.
Who'd they name you after?|Or would you know?
I'm saying that "Stonewall" Jackson|was trash himself.
Him and Lee,|and all the rest of them Rebs.
You, too.
- You're a low-down, lying Yankee.|- Prove it.
No, Torrey!
One less sodbuster.
- What?|- He tried to pull on Wilson.
- Ain't that right, Swede?|- He tried to reach for a...
All right. Get him outta here.
Tell your friends|we'll be waiting for any more
that come in looking for trouble.
You understand that, Swede?
Now get him outta here.
- What happened?|- The sodbuster tried to kill Wilson.
- What's the shooting?|- Sodbuster tried to pull on Wilson.
Lewis!
- Lewis!|- Pa! What's happened?
- Lewis!|- Fred!
Fred!
Torrey, he is dead!
Ryker did it!
I'll go get Starrett.
Shane, we sure enough|earned our keep today.
If they just leave us alone,|we'll make a farm out of this yet.
Somebody's coming, Pa.
- Looks like Shipstead.|- It's Mr Shipstead.
Starrett!
Torrey, he is dead!
Torrey?
Torrey, he is dead!
The new man shot him,|the new man that works for Ryker did it.
I was across the street,|I heard anger in the voices.
The two of them reach for pistols,
but the new man is quick, terribly quick.
One shot, Torrey dead.
- One shot.|- What happened?
We go to town together.|He say it be safe.
It was all quiet. We separate.
Then the anger in the voices, I hear.|Only the anger, not the words.
Ryker's men were all around.
What started it?
I passed Lewis, his missus and Johnson.|They're scared.
- Who saw it?|- Just the Ryker men and me.
Morgan say they wait for any more|who come looking for trouble.
Marian, you get ready.|Mrs Torrey will need you.
Shane, hitch up the team.
What are you going to do, Joe?
- Go to town. I'm gonna see about this.|- You can't go alone.
- Marian, I'm going.|- She's right, Joe.
But the others are all in this,|it's not just you. Wait for them.
- Sooner or later, someone's got to go.|- But not now. Don't you go alone!
The other homesteaders, I think|they run. I think they get out of here.
Here comes Joe Starrett.|Wish he'd tend to his own business.
- What goes on?|- We're going on. I've had enough.
I sure figured you for a better man.
You saw what's happened.|Torrey's dead.
Just gonna pile up your plunder and skip.
Too scared to see Torrey|get a decent funeral.
I don't want him killed. We're going.
It ain't a question|of who stays or who runs.
We gotta see Stonewall|get a Christian burial,
and his wife hear some words of comfort|said over her man.
We'll make sure it's done.
Torrey's already dead.|I don't want it to happen to my man.
Fred, if you ain't at that funeral,|I'll sure take it bad of you.
Well... cemetery hill's|on the way out, Martha...
Shipstead, would you please|lead us in the Lord's Prayer?
Our Father who art in heaven,|hallowed be Thy name.
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done|on earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses as we|forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,|but deliver us from evil.
For Thine is the kingdom,|and the power,
and the glory, for ever. Amen.
He's gonna bite you!
Goodbye, Mrs Starrett, we're going.
Goodbye, Joe. Goodbye, Axel.|Goodbye, John.
Sue, you put the kids in the wagon.
Wait for me, Lewis.|I'm coming with you.
Wait a minute, let's not be in a hurry.|There's one more thing.
Torrey was a pretty brave man.
We'd be doing wrong|if we wasn't the same.
Last time you argued that,|Torrey was alive.
- You want us to stay for more of this?|- We can have a regular settlement.
We can have a town,|and churches and a school...
Graveyards...
You've just got to, that's all.
He wants you to stay for something|that means more than anything.
Your families.
Your wives and kids.
Like you, Lewis, your girls...
...and Shipstead with his boys.
They've got a right to stay here|and grow up and be happy.
It's up to you people|to have nerve enough to not give it up.
That's right. We can't give up this valley|and we ain't gonna do it.
This is farming country, a place|for people to bring up their families.
Who's Ryker to run us|away from our own homes?
He only wants to grow beef,|and we want to grow families,
to grow them good and strong,|the way they were meant to be grown.
God didn't make all this country|just for one man like Ryker.
He's got it though,|and that's what counts.
- Look, look there.|- A fire!
It's Lewis's place.
It's our place.
- Ryker lit it.|- He had no right.
He wouldn't have, if you hadn't left it.
I built it with my own hands.
- Not the girls' room.|- I was getting round to it.
If we stick together,|we can put that place back up.
- Can't we?|- Right.
We'll help you build the room,|Johnson and Joe.
- Shane'll help.|- Yeah.
We'll get the timber|and put it right back up, right?
- Yes, sir! We'll do it.|- Me, too, I'll help.
- You'll do that for us?|- All that, just for us?
Not just for you, Martha,|for all of us in this valley.
Come and help.|Maybe we can save part of that.
- That's the spirit.|- Let's get to the Lewises' place.
Come on, men!
Boss! Looks like Lewis is going back.
Starrett's holding 'em together.
- He could set fire to mine.|- Stay on your ground.
He'll do us like he did Torrey.
- There's a law against killing.|- The law is three days' ride from here.
- You know that.|- What does that leave us with?
- Give me time.|- Who's gonna fight Ryker?
- He knows he's got us on the run.|- You men hang on...
- Hang on?|- I promise something's gonna be done.
But what, Joe?
Leave that to me.|I'll have it out with Ryker.
- You're taking on too much.|- If I have to kill him.
That's wrong. Don't even think that.
Starrett's got to go.
I've warned him twice, but he's|pig-headed. He'll have to pay for it.
Joe, you can't do it!
If the Lewises have the courage|to start over, I won't let them down.
But you can't go in town|to kill Ryker. He'll kill you.
Tell him I'm a reasonable man,|things have gone far enough.
Tell him I'm beat, anything,|but, by Jupiter, get him here!
He'll come.|He thinks he's a reasonable man.
Hello, Calloway.
- He'll kill you.|- It's a chance I gotta take.
This is a false square knot, Joey,|it won't hold.
Shane! Tell him he can't go.|Tell him it won't work. Tell him!
Shane!
Wait, Joe, till things cool off.|Wait that long, anyway.
That's right, isn't it, Shane?
I can't tell Joe what's right, Marian.
Please wait, Joe.
Won't you do even this for me?
Starrett?
Mr Starrett!
- Who is it?|- Peace party, from Ryker.
One of you can come across and talk.
- Stay out of that garden.|- We ain't armed.
Brother Rufe wants to see you.
He says to tell you|he's a reasonable man.
He's responsible for Torrey's killing.
My brother wouldn't kill anybody.|He don't wanna go to jail.
Torrey was a hot-head,|he picked on a stranger.
Torrey didn't wanna be reasonable.|You wanna be reasonable, don't you?
I always figured on being reasonable.
My brother's waiting.|He'll see you at Grafton's.
Who else?
Not us. We're heading home.
I'll see your brother.
Shane!
Shane.
- Who is it?|- Calloway. Chris Calloway.
- Stay where you are. I can drill you.|- Hold it, I got something to tell you.
- What do you want?|- Starrett's up against a stacked deck.
Bang! Bang!
Bang! Bang!
- Why are you telling me?|- I reckon something's come over me.
- I don't figure.|- I'm quitting Ryker.
- So long.|- Chris...
Thanks.
Be seeing you.
No use to argue, Marian.|I'm going into this with my eyes open.
No!
Isn't there anything I can say|to change things?
Maybe this is a chance.
Morgan and them boys went home...
You don't really believe that,|that's not the reason.
It's just too much for me to give up,|this place and our valley...
- All the things that will be.|- Will be!
Bang!
Bang, bang, bang!
Joey, don't point that thing!|Go play outside.
Play outside, Joey!
Please, dear. Go outside and play.
It's just pride, that's all,|a silly kind of a pride.
Don't I mean anything to you, Joe?|Doesn't Joey?
Marian...
Honey, it's because you mean|so much to me that I've got to go.
Could I go on living with you,|and you thinking I'd showed yellow?
And what about Joey?|How would I explain that to him?
Oh, Joe...
Joe!
I've been thinking a lot, and...
...I know I'm kinda slow sometimes,|but I see things...
And I know if anything happened to me|that you'd be took care of.
You'd be took care of,|better than I could do it myself.
I never thought I'd live|to hear myself say that, but...
I guess now's a pretty good time|to lay things bare.
You talk as though|I'd be glad for you to go.
Honey, you're the most honest|and the finest girl that ever lived.
I couldn't do what I gotta do if I hadn't|always known I could trust you.
Now, don't you go counting me out!
I wouldn't have lived this long|if I wasn't pretty tough.
Pa! Shane's got his gun on.|He's coming!
Gun?
- What's the idea?|- Don't let him go. Don't anybody go!
- This is my kind of game.|- But it ain't yours.
Maybe you're a match for Ryker, maybe|not, but you're no match for Wilson.
Then, I'll outlast him.|But I do appreciate it, Shane.
You're both out of your senses.|This isn't worth a life.
Are you fighting for this shack,|this ground and nothing but work?
I'm sick of it, I'm sick of trouble.|Let's move, let's go on, please!
Marian, don't say that!|You love this place more than me.
- Not any more.|- Even if it's true, it changes nothing.
There must be some way, Shane?|Some way?
- It's no use, Joe.|- No use? What's stopping me?
- I am.|- Get out of my way.
- Am I gonna have to fight you, too?|- That depends on you.
Stop!
Stop!
Shane! You hit him with your gun!|I hate you!
- Walk him around when he comes to.|- Joey, bring water and a towel.
Here, Marian. Hide this.
He'll be all right.
No one can blame him|for not keeping that date.
Shane... Wait!
- You were through with gunfighting.|- I changed my mind.
Are you doing this just for me?
For you, Marian...
...and Joe and little Joe.
Then we'll never see you again?
Never's a long time, Marian.
Tell him...|Tell him I was sorry.
No need to tell him that.
Please, Shane...
Mother...
Please...
Take care of yourself.
Mother! Pa's coming along all right.
Yes, Joey.
- Why did Shane...?|- Shane did what he had to do.
- You don't hate Shane.|- I know, Mother.
Shane...!
I'm sorry!
He didn't hear you.
Shane!
Shane! I'm sorry!
I came to get your offer, Ryker.
I'm not dealing with you.|Where's Starrett?
- You're dealing with me, Ryker.|- I got no quarrel with you, Shane.
You can walk out now|and no hard feeling.
- What's your offer, Ryker?|- To you, not a thing.
- That's too bad.|- Too bad.
You've lived too long.|Your kind of days are over.
- My days? And yours, gunfighter?|- The difference is I know it.
So we'll turn in our six-guns|to the bartender,
and we'll all start hoeing spuds,|is that it?
Not quite yet.
We haven't heard from your friend here.
I wouldn't push too far if I were you.
Our fight ain't with you.
- It ain't with me, Wilson?|- No, it ain't, Shane.
I wouldn't pull on Wilson, Shane.
Will, you're a witness to this.
So you're Jack Wilson.
What's that mean to you, Shane?
I've heard about you.
What have you heard, Shane?
I've heard that you're|a low-down, Yankee liar.
Prove it!
Shane, look out!
Shane!
I knew you could, Shane.|I knew it just as well as anything.
Was that him? Was that Wilson?
That was him.|That was Wilson, all right.
He was fast, fast on the draw.
Joey, what are you doing here?
- I'm sorry, Shane.|- You don't have to be.
- You'd better run back.|- Can't I ride home behind you?
I'm afraid not, Joey.
Please! Why not?
I gotta be going on.
Why, Shane?
A man has to be what he is, Joey.|Can't break the mould.
- I tried it and it didn't work for me.|- We want you, Shane.
Joey, there's no living with a killing.|There's no going back from one.
Right or wrong, it's a brand.|A brand sticks.
There's no going back.
Now you run on home to your mother,|and tell her...
...tell her everything's all right and|there aren't any more guns in the valley.
Shane...
It's bloody! You're hurt!
I'm all right, Joey.
Go home to your mother and father|and grow up to be strong and straight.
And, Joey...
Take care of them, both of them.
Yes, Shane.
He'd never have shot you|if you'd seen him!
Bye, little Joe.
He'd never even have cleared|the holster, would he, Shane?
Pa's got things for you to do!|And Mother wants you!
I know she does!
Shane!
Shane!
Come back!