You ever wondered what happened to the Native Americans after they wiped out Custer at the Battle of the Little Big Horn. Well, they scarpered north to Canada, which flew the British flag, being part of the very powerful British Commonwealth, and where they were, effectively, out of reach of any pursuing forces. Any legitimate forces, that is. Nothing to stop an irate Yank rancher crossing the border to claim back a herd of horses he reckons the Sioux stole during their escape.
Otherwise, the Sioux would be relatively safe. But that safety was conditional. The might of Canada would not bear down on them as long as they didn’t resort to violence against that country’s citizens, as long as a rifle wasn’t shot in anger or a cartridge found beside the body of a white man.
So that was quandary number one. Quandary number two was that the unit set on enforcing this rule was the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. And though part of the uniform was a splendid leather holster, it was empty. They didn’t carry guns. They didn’t need to, as is sanctimoniously explained, because using weapons in law enforcement only caused more killing and, in fact, it was reckoned, there would be a lot less American outlaws if they had not been brought up in a society that worshipped guns.
And that lack of weaponry creates another predicament for the RCMP because rancher Boone (John Dehner) is going on the principle that killing a Native American is not a crime in his homeland and raids the Sioux camp, shooting people, including a two-year-old child, and kidnapping the child’s mother, an unnamed white squaw (Teresa Stratas). The kidnapping will justify any action he takes. Because if she’s been stolen from America, then it’s not a kidnap but a rescue, and that justifies any violence.
But RCMP leader Gannon (Robert Ryan), inevitably, in the only cliché in the picture, about to retire, reckons that’s up to a judge to decide. So with his two colleagues, the experienced McGregor (Torin Thatcher) and a rookie Springer (Burt Metcalfe) he’s intent on bringing them in. He’s helped in this enterprise by the Sioux acting as distant bodyguard.
Though naturally it’s only a matter of time before the Americans try to escape, especially as it soon transpires that Boone is lying when he says he knows the woman and has come north expressly to bring her back.
And this would be quite a curiosity, given the only real tension is how the RCMP can hold onto their captives for the week it takes to reach a town, and whether the Native Americans might reckon justice won’t be served and hand it out their own way.
You might remember the audience shock when Henry Fonda gunned down a young boy in Once Upon a Time in the West (1969), those baby blues turned steely. Well, that brutality has its unexpected precedent here, although, except for the mourning mother, not so much is made of it.
With the Canadians outnumbered – there’s three other Americans, all of the outlaw persuasion, Greer (Jack Creley), Ben (Scott Peters) and Billy (Richard Alden) – and unable to use weapons, you’re thinking how in heck is this going to last the pace. But, in fact, though presented as some kind of western, it’s a character-driven piece.
Gannon is an unlikely singleton, but he’s got too high hopes for a lawman and never found a woman he wanted to settle down with, and he’s got that principled look about him so he’s probably not one for one-night stands or creeping around brothels. The squaw’s child wasn’t the result of rape. Although initially trying to escape captivity, she fell in love with a Native American because he looked at her in a way no white man had, since she was so physically unprepossessing, and a bit like Lin in The Green Berets (1968) knows that she is likely to be ostracized by her own people if she returns to her home town.
You have to feel sorry for Boone, too. He’s not some kind of entitled whelp who inherited land and wealth. He saved up his hard-earned cash working as a ranch hand and bought one horse, then its mate, then started breeding, building up his herd the slow way, and he can’t afford to lose upwards of forty horses.
But the one you would extend most sympathy for is Greer. Being a legal outlaw – employed for gunslinging skills on a legitimate enterprise – is not his long-term goal. He repeatedly asks Boone for a job back at the ranch when this task is complete, only to be turned down with utter contempt. And he has a code. He won’t kill an unarmed man. Boone will, and an unarmed female to boot. Ben has no such code and reckons any woman is ripe for the taking and attempts to rape the squaw.
So the tension is mostly wondering how this is going to end, with the Canadians outnumbered and only able to call on their fists as weapons, and you soon work out there’s not enough time left in the picture to get to that destination and go through all the malarkey of a trial, or for the lonely Gannon to strike up a romance with the woman.
The Sioux come to the rescue once the Yanks have escaped and killed the woman. And it’s a peach of a solution. Remember, they can’t fire a shot. So they don’t. They get a herd of wild horses, for all we know the ones Boone is looking for, to do the dirty work. They stampede the horses and drive the bad guys over a cliff.
Very interesting debut for writer-director Burt Kennedy (The Rounders, 1965). Rare starring role for Robert Ryan (Ice Palace, 1960) who makes the most of it. Teresa Stratas was an opera singer so gets to sing. Otherwise, Jack Creley, who had a long-running role in the Marvel television series in the 1960s, is the pick.
Much better than I expected.
The Magnificent 60s 