You don't know the famous Sam Hawkens? Well, that's me.
I think we should surrender. - Well, seems you'd like the Kiowa
to have a nice breakfast with your scalp.
Pretty smart, the Chief. - We'd slow down and put out the fire.
No, then he'll attack once again! No, no, there's pretty less chances
for our mothers' sons.
Now, what was that? Did you hear that?
Oh! But that's... that's...
Now, look who's coming! Indians! Our first Indians! How lovely!
Please stop for a minute, gentlemen! Only one minute. For the camera!
I am a friend of all Indians. I just would like to take a photo of you.
For the Oxford Times!
You sure they were Kiowa, Sam? - Yes! Without any doubt?
I know if an Indian is a Kiowa or an Apache, even at night.
Even with closed eyes, I would say.
Hello! Are you the landlord?
Yeah, that's me. - Do you have a room for me?
Yeah. But I want to know who you are. - Pardon me. Tuff-Tuff of the Oxford Times.
I came here from England to photograph the Indians.
Unfortunately I was unlucky up to now but I am very optimistic. Here, my camera.
What's that umbrella for? It's sunny! - The tripod hampers me to dismount.
Therefore, I take my right leg to this side... like this...
Then I take up the umbrella... That ensures a soft landing.
It is my own invention on which I already applied for a patent.
Now, who's that? - He wants to take photos of the Indians.
Yes, for the Oxford Times.
Now, who is this that suspicious character? - Mr Santer. The most powerful man here.
Pardon me, do you mind?
May I introduce myself: Agnus Tuff-Tuff, Oxford Times.
Hey! - Oh! Pardon me, I'm so sorry.
Cheers. - Get away, this is where I stand!
Oh! Oh, milady, what a lucky coincidence!
May I ask for a little dance?
A little dance? Here you are. But without the lady.
I am protesting!
I will inform the press about your malicious behavior!
I don't like that anyone touches you. - Indians!
Ok, guys, you line up at the wall now. Go on!
Fine. And now, you put your hands in your necks.
Yes, great. And now, you put your heads against the wall.
Wonderful. And now two steps back!
That's it. Not quite comfortable, isn't it?
And now I have a surprise: Anybody moves, he'll be dead!
You cowards! Idiots! Get up now! Useless bastards! Get up! What was it?
Who is to negotiate with them?
I'll do it, if you don't mind. I'm well-known in every Apache tent.
Keep the workers calm. Jones, Old Shatterhand, Bancroft, come on.
Leave you guns here.
So,
How do you call him?
Old Shatterhand, because his fist fells every man like a lightning.
And send his buddies to hell.
My best idea ever, if I may say so.
Gentlemen, please, just one minute! Hold on for one minute, please.
What do you have against the Oxford Times?
Huh? What did you say?
If you can manage that, my friend, I'll take my hat off to you.
And my false scalp, too.
Sometimes I really don't know: Should I embrace him or murder him?
Oh! Now, what is that?
Please, is that the train to Indianapolis? - Cover, we'll be shooting!
I just asked where the train is going to. - And I just said: cover!
See? I was right in the end.
Look at them coming out! - Come on, over here!
Hey! Hello! Hello!
Are you headed to El Paso by any chance? - That's exactly where I'm going.
Could you send a telegram for me? - Why not, if you pay? - Of course.
What a godforsaken country this is. Where did you come from?
From Roswell. - But Roswell was attacked by the Indians.
Yes, but unfortunately I missed them. This is it: "To the Oxford Times.
Instead of group photos of Indians I'll send exclusive picture of Coughing Crow."
Now...
Farewell, my good old friend. You're really a lucky one.
I'd rather go to the happy hunting-grounds that fast and painless like you.
'cause without me this greenhorn is doomed to death.
The worst is, my scalp is itching, and I cannot scratch myself.
My pants, quick! She's coming.
Quite a good-looking guy, huh? Yeah, that's what I always was.
Only that I didn't have time for girls.
You got pretty hair. - Huh?
My pretty, pretty darling, you. - Me pretty darsing?
Quiet good. Say "darling". - You take darling as squaw in wigwam?
What? Marriage? Sam Hawkens will never marry!
Yes, yes, yes! No marriage, no love.
But, what's up now? Stay with me, my pretty, pretty darling.
Stay with me.
I'll do anything you want. Give me a hug, darling.
Oh, did I tell you how Moon fell in love with me?
And how I escaped her at the last minute? No one of you could have managed that.