Fort Bowie

[Major Wharton's men massacre a band of Indians who approached his company under a flag of truce]

Maj. Wharton:
Look at 'em, Captain - not the slightest attempt at rescue or revenge; slinking away like scared desert rats!

Capt. Thomas Thompson:
More like foxes than rats. You can hardly blame them if they want to fight on their terms. After all, sir, didn't you?

Col. James Garrett:
You'll be making your own report to the general about this whole affair?

Maj. Wharton:
Not to the general, sir - to Congress.

Col. James Garrett:
To describe our methods as sentimental, Major, is extremely wide of the mark, but you go right ahead, you make your report. Before it gets to Washington, we'll have those Indians back on the reservation... or a lot of us will be dead and past caring.

Capt. Thomas Thompson:
This is no place for the woman of Victorio.

Chanzana:
Chanzana is no more the woman of Victorio. He says to me, "Chanzana, you live long in soldiers' camp. Your mother was Mexican... we do not trust you. Go - stay with soldiers."

Capt. Thomas Thompson:
Seems to me that puts you in a bad spot, lady. We don't trust you, either.

Chanzana:
I am good to look upon. My flesh is strong, my skin is smooth. I'd be good woman for you.

Capt. Thomas Thompson:
Thanks, but it wouldn't work... not in public, anyway.

Chanzana:
You think it better for you the woman of Colonel Garrett?

Alison Garrett:
Is-is that man dead?

Sgt Kukas:
Oh yeah, dead as a doornail. Had his brains cooked over a slow fire. It's a favorite pasttime with the Indians.

[Indians surround Thompson's small patrol]

Alison Garrett:
What are you going to do?

Capt. Thomas Thompson:
Indians are great jokers. Just in case this is one of their serious days, get in the bottom of the wagon and stay down!

Col. James Garrett:
Tell me, Major, is your method of extermination... is that a reflection from Washington?

Maj. Wharton:
Certain Congressman wouldn't put it that way. They would simply say there isn't enough room in Arizona Territory for red men and white.

[last lines]

Chanzana:
Thompson, will you touch my lips like soldiers do their wives?