North

[ municipal airport]

[Fraser sits playing solitaire; Vecchio impatiently waits, shooting stares at the guy behind the counter, Hamish Carter. Hamish notes the impatience, then gets himself another cup of coffee and goes back to reading his newspaper]
Ray: All right, that’s it. One more cup and I plug him.
Fraser: You’re just making it worse, Ray.
Ray: He’s been on the same page for an hour. Can we get some service over here?!
Fraser: You know, Ray, things move at their own pace in small places.
Ray: I would just like to check in, okay? Is there something wrong with that? Can I check in, please?
Man: Hey Hamish, how’s it going?
Hamish: Plane’s out front. Hi, Doug.

[ men file by, carrying lots of gear]
Ray: What the hell is this?
Hamish: Ed. How’s it going, Junior ?
Ray: I didn’t hear anyone being asked for tickets!
Fraser: Ray, Ray, Ray.
Ray: Look, I gave up two weeks vacation in Miami for this.
Fraser: Well as I recall, it was your idea.
Ray: No. As *I* recall I said *maybe* as in maybe we should go north and fix up your father’s cabin. You, on the other hand, could have said no.
Fraser: Well, you don’t have to do this.
Ray: Oh yes, I do. Because it’s like a, uh – a what do you call it? – a-a death bed confession. You have to honor it. Besides where else but Canada can I spend two weeks hard labor living off the land?
Fraser: Well I, for one, am glad we’re going.
[Hamish taps his mug on the counter pointedly]
Ray: Finally. All right, you check us in, and I’m going to take these bags to the plane.
Hamish: No. You gotta weigh in first.
Ray: I’ve got to weigh in first?
Hamish: Yep.
Ray: [dumping 5 bags on the scales ] I’m sitting there an hour, doing nothing, and now you want me to weigh in. Let’s weigh them in, Mr. Funny Hat.
Fraser: And mine.

[ alarm beeps]
Ray: What?

[Hamish shuts off the alarm]

Ray : So they’re a little over. Big deal. [Hamish looks at Vecchio] Oh I see. I see. Here you go, how much? [ starts counting out money]
Hamish: Oh, you’re American, eh?
Fraser: From Chicago .
Hamish: Yeah, right. Well you’re gonna have to leave some of these behind, boys.
Ray: Fine.

[Vecchio tosses Fraser’s small bag from the scale]
Hamish: No, a lot more than that by the look of it.
Ray: What about those hunters, huh? Those hunters had huge bags. What about them?
Hamish: Oh, they’re different.
Ray: How are they different?
Hamish: They’re just different.
Ray: I know how they’re different. They’re Canadian and I am American. That is how they’re different. Are you discriminating against me because I’m an American? Because if you are, let me tell you something--
Fraser: Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray. Excuse me, sir.

Hamish : Mm-hmm.

Fraser : I wonder if you could just check the manifest and see if this extra weight might not be permissible within the maximum payload.
Hamish: All right. I’ll see what I can do.
Fraser: Thank you kindly.

Hamish : Mm-hmm.
[Hamish takes another swig of coffee]
Ray: I hope you burst.
Hamish: Is that a handgun there?

[ hangar ]
Officer: Jack?
Jack: Yeah?
Officer: Listen, I got a prisoner, and the plane picking him up, said at eleven. Listen, I need a place to put him.
Jack: I’m taking one of these out in a few minutes. Use the office.

[tosses officer some keys; officer retrieves prisoner from the patrol car, leads him to the office...the guy grabs something from the workbench and (off-camera) hits the officer with it]

[ tarmac ]
Fraser: I’m not apologizing.
Ray: Fine.
Fraser: It is strictly prohibited to carry a weapon on aircraft.
Ray: Fine!
Fraser: Particularly one not licensed for use in this country.
Ray And who told them it was unlicensed, Fraser, huh, who?
Fraser: I’m still not apologizing.
Ray: Fine! [ climbs aboard]
Fraser: [shouts] We’re going now. We’re leaving. We will not return.
[Dief runs to him & climbs aboard]
Fraser: Thank you kindly, Dwayne. [ climbs aboard]

[ small plane]
Ray: Yep. I bet there’s no movie on this flight.
Hamish: [into radio ] Clear for take off anytime, Jack. Weather’s good to zero-nine-thousand heading two- niner -eight, all the way up to the Territories, over.
Pilot: Roger.
Hamish: Are you coming back tonight after you drop off the cops?
Pilot: Cops?
Hamish: That’s right. The Mountie’s fine, but that other guy’s going to take some getting used to.
Pilot: Thanks. You guys have your seatbelts on?
Ray: Yeah.
Pilot: Enjoy the flight. [ turns around – he’s the prisoner]

[ plane takes off]

Ray : Hey Benny, how long did you say this flight was, anyway?
Fraser: Four hours.
Ray: Okay, so where’s the john? [Fraser gives Vecchio a look] Great.

[Dief whimpers at Vecchio’s shoulder]

Ray : What? Don’t you think it’s a little early? Okay. Fine, fine.

[ airport ; body is wheeled off on a stretcher, and Hamish talks to a uniformed cop]

[ plane ]
Ray: Hey, Benny, you want something to drink? [ to Dief] Here’s your peanuts . Don’t bug me.

[ unintelligible radio traffic; Fraser watches the pilot intently]

[ engine noise]
Fraser: Huh.
Ray: What?
Fraser: Nothing.

[ plane’s engine sputters]

Fraser : Huh.
Ray: What!
Fraser: Oh it’s nothing. It’s probably nothing.
[ plane lurches]
Ray: That was not nothing . I’m gonna have a little talk with this guy. Hey, Jim! You want to keep your eyes on the road?
Pilot: Is there a problem?
Ray: No. I love having my kidneys--
Fraser: Actually we’re quite fine. Thank you, Jim.
Pilot: You guys better keep your seatbelts on.

[Vecchio sits down]
Ray: [mutters ] Yeah , you just better watch the road.

[ radio traffic cutting out]
Fraser: Ray, you wouldn’t happen to have your backup gun, would you?
Ray: No!
Fraser: Oh well.
Ray: Oh well, what?
Fraser: It’s just an observation. Probably ill-timed, but...I don’t think this man is our pilot.
Ray: You’re telling me!
Fraser: No, I mean, I think he maybe *A* pilot, I don’t think he’s OUR pilot. There’s dandruff on the collar of his flight suit. There’s none on his scalp.
Ray: Oh, and for that we shoot him?
Fraser: The Territories are northwest, Ray. We’ve been flying south for two hours. Also he’s ignoring radio calls, and occasionally flying underneath radar coverage.
[ pilot is suspicious, trying to eavesdrop]

Ray : So what are you saying, we’re being hijacked?
Fraser: No, not necessarily. But the chaffing on his wrists is consistent with a man who’s recently been in handcuffs. Add to that the blood on the back of his flight suit and the prominent bullet hole, well... I leave it up to you.

Ray : You couldn’t have mentioned this earlier?
Fraser: It’s a moot point, Ray. He has a gun, we don’t.
Ray: This isn’t a trick, is it?
Fraser: On my word of honor.

[Vecchio holds up a gun from his ankle holster; Fraser pushes it down, out of view]

Fraser : But I will have to arrest you, of course, once we land.

[Vecchio checks the gun’s chamber]
Ray: On three, ready?
Fraser: Not now, Ray. Let’s wait ‘til we’re on the ground.
Ray: Where, Beirut ?
Fraser: It’s a light plane, Ray, I don’t think we have enough fuel to reach the Middle East . My guess is, he’s a smuggler, we’re headed for Mexico .
Ray: Yeah, where fifty of his friends are going to be waiting for us with Uzis. You know what happens to hostages, Fraser? Cop hostages? Bodies on the tarmac? CNN? This is not gonna happen to me. We gotta get him to turn this plane around right away.
Fraser: You’re right. On the other hand, there could be a struggle. He might refuse to cooperate, in which case we have to fly the plane ourselves. Now this might be possible with some assistance from air traffic control, and I did read a flight training manual in my grandmother’s library - there were a couple of pages missing, but I’m sure nothing vital. And I’m guessing that there are a lot of similarities between a Sopwith Camel and today’s light aircraft.
Ray: Yeah, that’s great, Benny. Just give me the odds, will ya?
Fraser: Well statistically, over 90% of all light aircraft fatalities occur during takeoff and landing.
Ray: Hey, look, I am not going to be guest of honor at a human piñata party in the Baja.
Fraser: Well, on a brighter note, Ray, 18% of all crash survivors crawl away with three out of four limbs. One--

Ray : Two--

[ a great breeze – the pilot has jumped out of plane with a parachute... Fraser rushes to the controls]
Ray: The radio!
Fraser: It’s broken, sit down!

[ turbulence and wind]
Fraser: Sit down, strap yourself in! [Vecchio does]

[ the ground rushes up]

Fraser : Hold on!

< Doo Mah >

[ wilderness ]
[ pilot hangs from a tree in his parachute; he releases himself & falls to the ground]

[ crash site]
Ray: We should stay with the plane.
Fraser: If you think.
Ray: This is insane. You’re dragging us through hundreds of miles of wilderness, heading God knows where.
Fraser: Ray, the man is a vicious murderer. He killed the pilot, he undoubtedly killed his police escort, and he attempted to kill us.
Ray: Which is why we should go back to the plane and wait for reinforcements to come.
Fraser: The emergency equipment, the EELT and the radio were all destroyed in the crash. The plane’s under cover of trees. It’ll never be found. Now, on the way down I noticed a river. There’s bound to be a road that crosses it. Undoubtedly the hijacker saw it as well. That’s where he’ll head. If we move hard, drive fast, we should be able to intercept him before nightfall. Any questions?
Ray: Yes. How far do you think you’re going to get with that gash on your head?

[ removes Fraser’s Stetson: Fraser has blood trickling down his forehead]
Fraser: Oh, Ray, head wounds always look worse than they actually are. Can you give me a reading, please?
Ray: It’s your compass. You read it.
Fraser: I can’t.
Ray: Well, neither can I.
Fraser: Well, you’ll have to, Ray.
Ray: Why?
Fraser: I’m blind.
Ray: You’re blind? [ waves hand in Fraser’s face]
Fraser: Apparently.
Ray: You’re really, really blind?
Fraser: As a bat.
Ray: Well, why didn’t you say something?
Fraser: No point making a bad situation worse.
Ray: Worse?! Fraser, you can’t see! Come on, we’re going back to the plane.
Fraser: Well Ray, I still have four senses intact.
Ray: [shouts ] You can’t see!
Fraser: Ray, I’m blind, I’m not deaf. I’ve spent my entire life in the north woods tracking criminals. I have a natural advantage here. There isn’t a thing in this forest that I can’t hear, taste, touch , smell, feel. It’s a finely tuned ability gained from years of experience. So... [ licks his finger & tests the wind] If you’ll just stand aside, I’ll be on my way.
[Fraser walks into a tree limb]
Ray: That was a tree.
Fraser: Yes, it was. A white ash. [ runs his finger along the tree, tastes it] Fraxinus americana to be exact. Shall we?

[Fraser begins to walk into the tree again, but lowers himself a few inches, then walks under the branch]

[Vecchio sighs]

[ airport/Welsh’s office]
Hamish: [into phone ] We haven’t located them yet, and there’s no sign of the missing plane, either.
Welsh: [into phone ] All right, I’ll notify the family. You get any news, I want it...Right... Thanks.

[Elaine overhears from the doorway]

[ wilderness ]
Fraser: Any sign of the hijacker?
Ray: Uh, no.
Fraser: All right, soon we should start to come to a river valley. The trees’ll thin out. The floor’ll become more low-lying. Willow , sea buckthorn possibly, infant cottonwood.
Ray: That’s supposed to mean something to me?
Fraser: Trees, Ray, only shorter.

Ray : Ah.

Fraser : Now. The river valley should be right about...here.

[ they stand on the edge of a cliff]

Fraser : Tell me what you see, Ray.
Ray: Oh, well, I, uh, see, uh, trees.
Fraser: Good, good. Describe them.
Ray: Green, mostly.
Fraser: Very good. And the river?

[ only rocks & trees are below]
Ray: Well, I’m going to bet that it’s just over the next hill.
Fraser: Perfect. Onward.

[ walks straight forward, heading off the cliff...Vecchio grabs him]
Ray: Ho! Not-not a good idea, okay? Not a good idea. Just-just wait here for me, all right? Whew. Okay, I say Westward Ho, Ethan Edwards. Hand on shoulder.

[ they start walking parallel to the cliff]
Fraser: I can feel the sun on the left side of my nose
Ray: Uh, Fraser, there is no sun.
Fraser: What time is it, Ray?
Ray: It’s, uh, one-thirty.
Fraser: I think you’re a little off.
Ray: Heh heh . How do you know that?
Fraser: Because of the sun on my nose.
Ray: There is no sun on your nose, Benny.
Fraser: Ray, would you just check the compass again? Even an error of one or two degrees could throw us hundreds of miles off course.
Ray: I know that. I’m not an idiot.
Fraser: Well, I’m not saying you are.
Ray: Okay good. And by the way, I have gone camping before.
Fraser: You have not gone camping--
Ray: I have, too.
Fraser: When?
Ray: When I was a kid.
Fraser: With who ?
Ray: My dad.

Fraser : Oh.

Ray : Yeah. And to prove a point, we are heading west. See? [ holds up compass] Of course not. What am I thinking of?

[Fraser starts to walk off cliff again]

Ray : Fraser!

[Vecchio tackles Fraser on the edge; compass goes flying, crashing on the rocks below]
Fraser: Ray, you all right?
Ray: Yeah. You okay?
Fraser: Oh I’m fine. Next time, watch where you’re going, please. You could get us both killed.

[ deeper into the forest]
Ray: I think we should take a break.
Fraser: I feel perfectly fresh, Ray.
Ray: No-no-no. It’s getting really dark right now, and I think we should make camp.
Fraser: You know, Ray, ‘Wise men walk while fools sleep.’

[Fraser is wandering]
Ray: Who said anything about sleep? I just like to see where I’m going.

[ crash ]
Fraser: It means nothing to me.
Ray: I realize that, but I do not want to track this guy by moonlight.

[ crash ]
Fraser: ‘There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who--’

[Fraser trips]
Ray: ‘Toil for gold.’ Yeah-yeah-yeah. I heard that one. And then they shot that Sam McGee guy. I told you, I went camping before.
Fraser: ‘Moil,’ Ray, and they cremated him. It was Dan McGrew that they shot.
Ray: Did they catch the guy?
Fraser: It’s a poem, Ray.
Ray: Oh. Moil, huh?
Fraser: Yes, moil, not toil.
Ray: Ah, moil, toil, who cares?
Fraser: Robert Service, apparently.
Ray: Who’s he?
Fraser: The poet. [ trips ]

[ deeper still]
Ray: We’re lost.
Fraser: No, we’re not. We just don’t know where we are.
Ray: Oh, like there’s a difference?
Fraser: Well, being lost is usually accompanied by a feeling of panic, Ray.
Ray: Are you saying that I’m panicking?
Fraser: No, on the contrary. You see, Ray, people who are lost, panic. Now they walk aimlessly in the woods, very often they walk in circles, until eventually they, well, they die, either from starvation or from lack of water. Now we, by comparison, we have remained calm, and you see Ray, this-this is the secret to survival in the woods, remaining-- [sniffs ] Ray , I smell something. I smell...fuel. Burnt plastic. Metal. What is it?
Ray: It’s a plane crash.
Fraser: My God, Ray, another plane crash? What are the odds?
Ray: It’s our plane crash, you moron! We’ve been going in circles this whole time! What’s the matter with you? [ gunshot ] Get down, get down, get down! [ more shots as they duck behind a boulder]
Fraser: I’m going to handle this, Ray. [ stands up] In the name of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, I-- [more shots from behind him ]
Ray: I don’t think he heard you.

[ exchange of gunfire, and the pilot runs off]
Fraser: Good shooting, Ray. Let’s hope he’s alive to testify. [ falls ]

[ pilot watches from the woods]

[ crash site]

[Vecchio scavenges through the wreckage]
Ray: Okay. Let’s see what the hijacker left us. Well, tube of toothpaste. [ tosses it away] Sunscreen. [ tosses it] Oh, here’s something we can use... Hemorrhoid paste. [ tosses it]
Fraser: I almost had him.
Ray: A breath mint. I suppose we could boil it. [ puts it in his pocket]
Fraser: Textbook situation. Maybe he heard us approaching.
Ray: Dief’s got peanuts. Here, Dief! [Dief runs away] You didn’t really think he’d surrender, did you?
Fraser: Well, not with you firing at him.
Ray: Oh yeah, you’re right. Next time, I’ll just let him shoot us.
Fraser: There won’t be a next time, Ray. He only came back to the plane for provisions. Can you give me a hand here, please? [Fraser begins to bandage his head] He’s on the run now, and he knows we’re on his trail. Now, he doesn’t know that you’re out of bullets, but he must know that even a minor wound will slow him down. He won’t risk open confrontation.
Ray: Fraser, the guy’s got a 9mm Sig Sauer with at least two clips of ammunition.
Fraser: We can still bring him in alive.
Ray: And how do you propose to do that?
Fraser: You know, Ray, Sam Steele patrolled the Northwest Territories his entire career without ever firing his weapon. It was a point of honor with him. Rumor has it he was buried with the weapon unfired.
Ray: Great. Let’s go dig it up.
Fraser: My point is, Ray, that we will use nature to our advantage. You see, wilderness survival depends more on your wits than upon firepower. I mean for example, the beam of an incandescent flashlight is visible for up to half a mile at night. Now, our hijacker didn’t understand that, or he would have waited around for nightfall and picked us off one by one. [Vecchio tosses away the flashlight] Which makes me believe that he is not skilled at wilderness survival. Aside from which, Diefenbaker would have raised the alarm if he had been around. He isn’t.
Ray: Fraser, I don’t think we’re gonna have to worry about the hijacker. We’re going to starve to death long before that.
Fraser: Oh Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray. With a little perseverance, a little ingenuity, and a fundamental understanding of how to go about it, one can live like a king in the woods. [Vecchio lifts a stone revealing meal worms]
Ray: No way!
Fraser: Oh Ray, they’re very nutritional. Far more strengthening than fish or meat.
Ray: You eat ‘em, then.
Fraser: Sh-shhh .
Ray: What?
Fraser: Shhh . I think I hear a nest of furry night crawlers! [ crawls over the ground]
Ray: Oh great.

[ crash site; night. Vecchio is attempting to build a fire]
Fraser: Ready?
Ray: Ask me again, and I set you on fire.
Fraser: Understood.
Ray: I thought we agreed. You’re in charge of being blind, and I’m in charge of seeing. Any part I left out? Good. Now I can do this, all right? So just let me do this, all right?
Fraser: All right. All right. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Ray! I think I know what happened today.
Ray: Great.
Fraser: One of my legs is probably, fractionally, just a little bit longer than the other one, you see, which caused us to walk in a giant circle. I should have taken this into account. Ray -- measure my legs.
Ray: I’m not going to measure your legs!
Fraser: Hey, you know what?
Ray: What?
Fraser: I think this head injury has thrown me off a tad.
Ray: I’d say just a little more than a tad.

[Vecchio tries a fourth match]
Fraser: You know what I’m guessing? I’m guessing that the blow I received caused a subdural hematoma . The resulting swelling of the anterior cerebrum put pressure on the optic nerve. Well, at least it’s not getting any worse. Mind you, if I become disoriented, then we’ll really be in a pickle. [Fraser falls over a boulder] Ray, if you’re going to insist on moving this thing, you really should tell a body.
Ray: Fraser, I’m not--
Fraser: No. No need to apologize, Steve.
Ray: Steve?
Fraser: What?
Ray: You just called me Steve.
Fraser: I most certainly did not!
Ray: You did, too!
Fraser: You’re not hyperventilating, are you?
Ray: Fraser, you just fell on the fire, and you killed it.
Fraser: I did not. You were blowing too hard, and you’re gonna need more tinder.
Ray: Fine. You want to be in charge? You want to do everything, hero man? You start the fire! [Vecchio throws matchbox at him & marches off]

Fraser : Moody.

[Fraser sits on a rock]
Robert Fraser: You’re never gonna teach him how to start a fire that way.
Fraser: Well, I believe he thinks we’re going to die out here. Not without justification.
Robert Fraser: Well he’s right. You got yourself into one hell of a predicament, son.
Fraser: Well, it’s hardly my making, now is it?
Robert Fraser: Mmm, grubs. [ sticks a grub in his mouth] You could have reversed the choke settings.
Fraser: What?
Robert Fraser: You could have reversed the choke settings, then the engines would have started.
Fraser: Well, why didn’t you tell me that?
Robert Fraser: You always hate it when I interfere.
Fraser: Interfere?!
Robert Fraser: All right, all right. You’re going have to move fast and drive hard if you’re going to bring this man in, alive. Now, for all we know he’s left a trail of bodies from here to the Circle. Hunters, miners, sodbusters...
Fraser: Dad--
Robert Fraser: Poachers, claim stakers ...
Fraser: Dad--
Robert Fraser: A whole canoe full of courier des bois.
Fraser: Dad! I don’t know if it’s escaped your attention, but only very recently I received a massive blow to my head!
Robert Fraser: Yeah, well you’ve still got a few good hours left in you. Go get him.
Fraser: What?!
Robert Fraser: Go get your man!
Fraser: Oh good, I’m glad you brought this up. Would you explain to me, please, just once and for all, explain to me: why is it that we always have to get our man?
Robert Fraser: Well, it’s the motto, son.
Fraser: It is not.
Robert Fraser: It is!
Fraser: It is not! It is definitely not our motto. Our motto actually is ‘Maintain the Right’
Robert Fraser: M-maintain the-- [sputters]
Fraser: Maintain the Right. Now what you’re saying is, we’re supposed to pursue people to the ends of the earth for a motto that isn’t even our motto!
Robert Fraser: [muttering ] Well , must be the new one, then. The old one used to be just... ‘ go get your man.. and bring him back alive’ or just...something. Go get him. [ walks away]
Fraser: Where are you going? Where are you going?
Ray: I’m not going anywhere. I’m coming back.
Fraser: Ah.
Ray: Talking to yourself ?
Fraser: Evidently.
Ray: You have those matches? Great, it’s getting cold.
Fraser: Mm.
[Vecchio tries another match, with no success]

Ray : Damn it.
Fraser: The wood’s damp. Matches may not be the solution. You know, Ray, my father taught me how to build a fire when I was 6 years old. He took me out into the woods, gave me a piece of flint, a hunk of granite, and then he walked away without turning back.
Ray: You know how to make a fire out of stones?
Fraser: You know, the funny thing – I have absolutely no memory of the fire itself, but I have this very vivid memory of the darkness, and knowing that I was all alone.
Ray: My dad, he wasn’t a father-and-son type of guy.
Fraser: He took you camping.
Ray: Yeah, well, of course we went camping. But the one thing he did teach me was how to look out for Number One.
Fraser: A police officer puts others first.
Ray: My father hated cops.
Fraser: Where are you going?
Ray: Oh, I’m going to go get some of those dry sticks.
Fraser: Ah.
Ray: And maybe some rocks.
Fraser: Good. Dad? [ no answer] Good.

[Vecchio is foraging]
Mr. Vecchio: I heard that.
Ray: Nobody’s talking to you.
Mr. Vecchio: You tell a stranger something like that, about your family?
Ray: He’s not a stranger. He’s my friend.
Mr. Vecchio: Ooh, some friend. He’s loony toons ! You should cut him loose.
Ray: I owe him.
Mr. Vecchio: You owe nobody. He’s gonna get you killed.
Ray: It’s always the way it is with you, Pop, ain’t it? Just you, screw the rest of the world, huh?
Mr. Vecchio: Something wrong with that?

[ crash site; Vecchio dumps an armload of sticks onto the fire pit & hands the matches to Fraser]
Ray: You do it.
[Fraser drops a single match from a height and the fire leaps into life]
Fraser: Yeah. Once you learn you never forget.

[ Chicago ; Vecchio house. Francesca stands on the porch, then goes inside, passing Lt. Welsh]

[ crash site]
Ray: I can’t believe I did that. I can still feel ‘em movin ’ around in there.
Fraser: It was a good meal, Ray.
Ray: You need another blanket?
Fraser: No. Get some rest. We’re gonna have to double our pace if we want to catch him tomorrow.
Ray: Benny?

Fraser : Hmm?

Ray : Have you taken a look at yourself recently?
Fraser: Well now, I can’t very well do that, can I, Steve?
Ray: Ray.
Fraser: What?
Ray: Never mind. You know, I’d better wake you up every couple hours.
Fraser: Good night [mutters in his sleep]

[ howl ]
Ray: [to Dief ] Yeah , very funny, what you think, you’re a wolf or something? [Dief joins them at the fire] If he doesn’t make it, Dief, you’re gonna help us get out of here, right?

[ crash site; morning. Vecchio is awakened by buzzing insects around his head]
Ray: You’re up.
Fraser: Yes. I didn’t want to wake you. I made breakfast. [ holds up a worm]
Ray: No, man, thanks, you go right ahead.
Fraser: Listen...A search plane, someone’s in trouble!
Ray: Yeah, us. [ loads flare gun] Come on, come on. [ fires gun, flare goes into the tree and falls] I don’t think they saw it [goes to reload gun]
Fraser: It’s no use, Ray. Search planes fly in grid patterns. He won’t be back.
Ray: Why didn’t you say something. What the hell is wrong with you? That might have been our only chance to get out of here alive!
Fraser: Ray, we still have a man to catch.
Ray: What are you-- [sighs, defeated ] Okay . Okay. I’ll pack up, then we’ll get out of here .

[Fraser tries to get up, and can’t; laughs hysterically]

Ray : What’s so funny?
Fraser: Well, it would appear that I have lost the use of my legs. [ continues to chuckle]

[ wilderness ; on the move; Vecchio carries Fraser over his shoulder]

Fraser : Ray, if at any point during our trip I should become a burden to you, you’d let me know, wouldn’t you?
Ray: Oh yes, Fraser.
Fraser: And you’d carry on without me?
Ray: Absolutely.
Fraser: Without hesitation?
Ray: Oh, in a heartbeat.
Fraser: That’s good.
Ray: Oh, and if, at any time, you should be feeling better, you just let me know.
Fraser: Yes, of course. Oh, Ray.
Ray: Yes?
Fraser: I’m a little thirsty.

[ drops Fraser to the ground and falls himself]
Ray: You okay?
Fraser: Mm-hmm.
Ray: All right, let me get the water. There you go. I’ll be right back.

[Fraser drinks and Vecchio goes to relieve himself]
Mr. Vecchio: You’re going to give him all the water?
Ray: What’s it to you?
Mr. Vecchio: You’re doing all the work. You should keep it for yourself.
Ray: Get away from me, Pop.
Mr. Vecchio: Yeah, well, don’t blame me if you die out here. [ exits ]

Robert Fraser : He’s slowing you down, son.
Fraser: He’s slowing me down?
Robert Fraser: When I first joined the Mounted Police, all the equipment we got was a paper bag and a pointed stick. We used the bag to boil tea, and the stick was for killing game, and if you lost either of them, they charged you for it!
Fraser: Are you ill?
Robert Fraser: There’s nothing to be ashamed of, son. You got a man to catch.
Ray: Okay. Let’s saddle up.

[Dief grumbles – he’s got two bags around his neck]

Ray : What are you complaining about? You want to trade? [ to Fraser] All right, let’s try to do this, okay?

[Vecchio grunts mightily as he picks Fraser up, and they walk off; both fathers watch them leave, and they give each other the once over]

[ wilderness ; hijacker crawls through the brush, and looks at map]

[ deep woods]
Ray: Tuesdays, Ma always made a big pot of pasta fasule . She starts boiling the beans early in the morning. Oh, man, you could smell it in every room. It’s heaven.
Fraser: Bannock. My grandmother made it.
Ray: Taste good?
Fraser: No, tasted like a hockey puck. Hard, flat, unleavened. I can still smell it burning in the oven.
Ray: What are they going to tell ‘em back home?
Fraser: The truth.
Ray: It’s a big responsibility when people rely on you. Ma always worries when I’m late home from work.
Fraser: You could set a clock by my father’s schedule. Out at the first snow, back again at spring breakup. Never changes, not even once. Well, until he died.

[ wilderness ; hijacker finds coil of paper that Vecchio had discarded]

[ deep woods; taking a break]

Ray : What’s that?
Fraser: It’s called a bola, Ray. The Inuit used it to hunt.
Ray: When I was a kid, I had a slingshot.
Fraser: A bola’s not a toy, it’s a deadly weapon. It can bring down a good-sized elk, or a man.
Ray: The hijacker is probably at a Hilton sitting by the pool.
Fraser : Oh no he’s not. We’re closing in on him. Now here – take this, stand up and spin it.
Ray: Spin it.
Fraser: Yeah.
Ray: Okay.

[ twirls the makeshift bola (rocks tied to ropes) in a vertical orbit, faster & faster]
Fraser: Now when you get enough momentum, let it go...Let it go.
Ray: I’m trying!
Fraser: Let it go *now*.
[ flings it high up into the tree]
Ray: Benny?
Fraser: Yes, Ray?
Ray: We’re in trouble.
Fraser: Ray. I’ve stopped sweating.
Ray: What does that mean?
Fraser: Well, a person ten percent dehydrated suffers from dizziness, nausea, swollen tongue. At fifteen percent, from dimmed vision, loss of muscle control, painful stools.
Ray: Where are you at?
Fraser: The inability to sweat indicates a loss of anything between ten and fifteen percent.
Ray: What happens at twenty?
Fraser: Death.
Ray: Here. [ gives him the water bottle]

[Fraser gulps the rest of the water]

Ray : Easy. Easy, easy! [ sighs ] I hope you’re right about that river.

[ deep woods; on the move]
Fraser: [singing ] “ Well, I can’t get off of my horse/ All day and night I ride among the cattle/ No, I can’t get off of my horse/ Cuz some dirty dog put glue in my saddle.
[Vecchio joins in] In my saddle, in my saddle/ Yes, some dirty dog put glue in my saddle....”

[ later ; singing ‘ California Dreamin ’ by John Phillips]
Fraser: All the leaves are brown
Ray: The leaves are brown
Fraser: And the sky is grey
Ray: And the sky is grey
Fraser: Uh, left my heart in ‘Frisco
Ray: San Francisco
Fraser: San Francisco Bay

Ray : San Francisco Bay
Fraser: California

Ray : Cal- i-forn-ya .
[ pause ]
Ray: All the leaves are brown
Fraser: The leaves are...

[ later still; Fraser singing ‘Ode to Joy’ by Beethoven]
Fraser: Freude , schöner Götterfunken / Tochter aus Elysium... Deine Zauber binden wieder / La la la la / Ba ba ba bum. Freu --

Ray : Shh-shh.
Fraser: What? It’s Beethoven, and Shiller ! Freu --
Ray: Shut up!!
Fraser: What?
Ray: I hear water.

[ river ; Dief drinks; Vecchio lies down and scoops water into his mouth]

Ray : This is great! [Fraser drinks from a cup] Can you taste this? This must be where they get Evian from. Most of the rivers around Chicago , you can walk on. This is really beautiful!
Fraser: Ray, it may just be some property of the water, but I think I can feel a twitch.
Ray: Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll have you out of here in no time.
Mr. Vecchio: Now you’re thinking. You’re going to ditch him and take the raft. That’s what you’re gonna do, right?
Ray: No.
Mr. Vecchio: Look, a man would take that raft. A man would save himself.
Ray: What are you, crazy?
Robert Fraser: Leave him. Take the raft. You can still get your man.
Fraser: Absolutely not.
Robert Fraser: They’ll have you up on charges.
Fraser: Do you ever listen to yourself?
Ray: What?
Fraser: Not you. Him.
Ray: Who?!
Mr. Vecchio: Like I said, loony toons . Now listen to me, why don’t you?
Robert Fraser: [to Mr. Vecchio ] Do you mind?
Mr. Vecchio: Yes, I do.
Robert Fraser: I know you’ll do the right thing, son.
Fraser: How? I have no legs!
Robert Fraser: It’s in our nature.
Fraser: Look, you don’t just leave a man in the wilderness and hope that he’ll survive. They don’t thank you for it.
Ray: I’m not gonna leave you here.
Robert Fraser: If they survive.
Mr. Vecchio: All right. If you’re not going to do it, I’ll do it for you.
Ray: Get away from me!
Fraser: I’m nowhere near you!
Ray: I’m not talking to you. This man is going to die if I don’t get him out of here. Now I don’t care what that makes me, but what it doesn’t make me is you. Now back off, all right?
Fraser: Ray, who are you talking to?
[Vecchio pulls the rope, the raft flies into the water... it inflates as it floats down the river]
Fraser: Well, shall we get in it?
Ray: I don’t think now is a good time.

[ later ]
Fraser: Well, I suppose we should start walking.
Ray: You mean, you suppose I should start carrying you.
Fraser: No-no, Ray, you remember that twitch that I mentioned earlier?
Ray: Yeah.
Fraser: Protract my lower lumbar, would you?
Ray: What does that mean?
Fraser: Well, just put your knee in my back and pull.
Ray: All right.
Fraser: Now you may have to really wrench it. You ready? On three. One--
Ray: Two--
Fraser: Three.

*crack*

Fraser : AHHH HAAA!
Ray: Did that hurt?
Fraser: Like a hot poker. But look. Look! I seem to have found my legs!
Ray: That’s great. Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.

[Vecchio chops trees; one finally falls all the way over]
Ray: I got one, Fraser. I got one.

[Vecchio carries a large tree (sans branches) to riverbank]

Ray : Fraser, look out!
Fraser: What?
Ray: Duck!
Fraser: Why?
Ray: Now!
Fraser: Oh.

[Fraser ducks, the log misses him, and Vecchio dumps it onto a pile of others]

Fraser : How many’s that?
Ray: Eight.
Fraser: Great. Here, take this.
Ray: Toss it.

[Fraser throws the rope aimlessly up into the air]

[Fraser is binding the logs together into a raft]

Ray : Looks like we’re gonna run out of rope.
Fraser: Well, we’ll have to improvise.
Ray: With what?
Fraser: The inside bark of a poplar is quite good, but it has to be boiled then chewed. Inuit women do it all the time. It’s good for the teeth.
Ray: Oh, I’ll remember to tell my dentist.
Fraser: You know , cedar roots make a suitable alternative.
Ray: Boil or chew?
Fraser: Neither.
Ray: Well, I’m your man. Here, tie this off.

[ tree ; Vecchio is collecting roots]
Mr. Vecchio: Look at you. Loser.

Ray : You oughtta know, Pop.

Mr. Vecchio : You never listen to me, you never knew what was good for you. You never listened and you never learned.
Ray: And when did you tell me, Pop? Huh? When you didn’t come home for dinner five nights a week? Or when I found you passed out on the floor on Saturday nights from too much partying with the boys?
Mr. Vecchio: Hey-hey, it wasn’t up to me to talk, it was up to you to listen.
Ray: Yeah, well, I’m not listening to you anymore.
Mr. Vecchio: I’m your father.
Ray: That’s right, Pop . You are my father.

[ a twig snaps – it’s the hijacker; Vecchio hears it, then makes a run for it, joining Fraser behind a rock wall]
Fraser: Get down!
Ray: I am down!
Fraser: Good.
Ray: Fraser, I thought you said he wasn’t going to risk a direct confrontation.
Fraser: It would appear that I miscalculated. But I have a plan. We’re gonna draw him to the river, then lure him into the open using the raft as bait, and then you trap him with the bola.
Ray: I can’t use the bola.
Fraser: I didn’t say it was a good plan.

[ gunshot ]
Ray: You have any another plans?
Fraser: Not at the present time, no.
Ray: Okay, if nothing else springs to mind, I’d like to get something off my chest. [ gunshot ; they make a run for it] *Go-go-go-go-go*-- My dad when I was a kid -- *down-down-down* -- used to hang out at the pool hall, shooting pool, and drinking espressos with the guys, and acting like a big jalook , which he wasn’t. [ gunshots ] --*Go-go-go-go-go! Go-go-go-go-go * Okay , that’s good, that’s good. So I’m 10, right? And I get this idea in my head that I want to go camping. I don’t know where I get it, out of a book or something. But the point is is that I just want to be with him, you know? I just want to spend some time with him. So finally he says yes. And I go and I get a tent, right?
Fraser: Is this a particularly long story, Ray?
Ray: So my mom, being the sweetheart that she is, goes and gets me her best sheets, her really good sheets, right? So I get some wood cause I want to start a fire, right? But what I really want, is for him to teach me how to make a fire. So, I’m waiting for him to come, right? And it starts to rain. [ gunshots ]
Fraser: Ray, the river!
Ray: *Go-go-go-go-go * I waited and waited, and he never came. So I go down to Finelli’s and sure enough, there he is shooting pool with his friends. I go home, I take the tent down, and we never speak about it ever again.
Fraser: We can’t choose our families, Ray.
Ray: Fraser, I never camped with my father. Not once.

[ gunshots ]
Ray: The raft. *Go-go-go-go-go*.

[ gunshots ; they hide under cover of the raft]
Fraser: This is perfect. I think we got him where we want him.
Ray: Oh I’m sure that’s what he’ll be thinking when he shoots us to death at close range!
Fraser: How far is he?
Ray: Fifty yards.
Fraser: Angle?
Ray: Ten o’clock .
Fraser: And where’s the bola?
Ray: Fraser, he has a gun! I’m not going to leap out into the open and start flinging stones at his head!
Fraser: Oh no, Ray, I am. I think I can find his range with your help.
Ray: Fraser, you can’t see!
[Vecchio runs to their supplies, retrieves the bola, and starts spinning it... Fraser’s vision is clearing... hijacker fires, and misses; Dief runs out of the woods, and hijacker fires at him, distracted...]
Fraser: Ray. I can see!
[Fraser bangs his head, and knocks himself out; Vecchio throws the bola... and it hits the stone wall above the hijacker, causing a very big rock to fall on his head]
Ray: Wow. Benny. Benny!
Fraser: Ray!
Ray: How many fingers?
Fraser: Four. What happened?
Ray: Oh you’re not going to believe it. Nobody’s going to believe it. It was the most improbable natural phenomenon I’ve ever seen!
Robert Fraser: Good work, son.
Fraser: Thank you.
Ray: For what?
Robert Fraser: You got your man.
Fraser: We got our man.
Ray: Yes we did, Benny, yes we did!
Robert Fraser: But I think he’s dead.
Fraser: Oh. Oh dear.

[ raft ; Vecchio is poling down the river]
Ray: This is good. A fresh breeze, a strong current. We should make this an annual event. What do you say?
Fraser: Ah. I would say you should watch the rock up on the left.
Ray: I got it, I got it.
Fraser: Okay, now we’re coming up on a sand bar, Ray.
Ray: All right, speak to me, sand bar!
Fraser: No, I would avoid it if I were you.
Ray: You can’t avoid nature, Fraser, you got to work with it.

Fraser : Oh.

Ray : See we’re perfectly fine. I know what I’m doing.
Fraser: Mm-hmm.
Ray: Admit it. I know what I’m doing.
Fraser: You know what you’re doing.

Ray : Thank you.

Fraser : Ray?
Ray: What?
Fraser: Is that a waterfall?

End

The Shooting of Dan McGrew

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o’-love, the lady that’s known as Lou.
When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and glare ,
There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.
He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a louse ,
Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks for the house.
There was none could place the stranger’s face, though we searched ourselves for a clue ;
But we drank his health, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McGrew.

There’s men that somehow just grip your eyes, and hold them hard like a spell ;
And such was he, and he looked to me like a man who had lived in hell;
With a face most hair, and the dreary stare of a dog whose day is done,
As he watered the green stuff in his glass, and the drops fell one by one.
Then I got to figgering who he was, and wondering what he’d do ,
And I turned my head--and there watching him was the lady that’s known as Lou.

His eyes went rubbering round the room, and he seemed in a kind of daze ,
Till at last that old piano fell in the way of his wandering gaze.
The rag-time kid was having a drink; there was no one else on the stool ,
So the stranger stumbles across the room, and flops down there like a fool.
In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway ,
Then he clutched the keys with his talon hands--my God! but that man could play.

Were you ever out in the Great Alone, when the moon was awful clear,
And the icy mountains hemmed you in with a silence you most could hear;
With only the howl of a timber wolf, and you camped there in the cold,
A half-dead thing in a stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck called gold;
While high overhead, green, yellow, and red, the North Lights swept in bars?--
Then you’ve a hunch what the music meant...hunger and might and the stars.

And hunger not of the belly kind, that’s banished with bacon and beans ,
But the gnawing hunger of lonely men for a home and all that it means;
For a fireside far from the cares that are, four walls and a roof above;
But oh! so cramful of cosy joy, and crowded with a woman’s love--
A woman dearer than all the world, and true as Heaven is true--
(God! how ghastly she looks through her rouge--the lady that’s known as Lou.)

Then on a sudden the music changed, so soft that you scarce could hear ;
But you felt that your life had been looted clean of all that it once held dear;
That someone had stolen the woman you loved; that her love was a devil’s lie;
That your guts were gone, and the best for you was to crawl away and die.
‘Twas the crowning cry of a heart’s despair, and it thrilled you through and through--
“I guess I’ll make it a spread misere ,” said Dangerous Dan McGrew.

The music almost dies away...then it burst like a pent-up flood ;
And it seemed to say, “Repay, repay,” and my eyes were blind with blood.
The thought came back of an ancient wrong, and it stung like a frozen lash,
And the lust awoke to kill, to kill...then the music stopped with a crash,
And the stranger turned, and his eyes they burned in a most peculiar way;

In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway;
Then his lips went in in a kind of grin, and he spoke, and his voice was calm,
And “Boys,” says he, “you don’t know me, and none of you care a damn;
But I want to state, and my words are straight, and I’ll bet my poke they’re true,
That one of you is a hound of hell...and that one is Dan McGrew.”

Then I ducked my head and the lights went out, and two guns blazed in the dark ;
And a woman screamed, and the lights went up, and two men lay stiff and stark.
Pitched on his head, and pumped full of lead, was Dangerous Dan McGrew,
While the man from the creeks lay clutched to the breast of the lady that’s known as Lou.

These are the simple facts of the case, and I guess I ought to know.
They say that the stranger was crazed with “hooch,” and I’m not denying it’s so.
I’m not so wise as the lawyer guys, but strictly between us two--
The woman that kissed him and--pinched his poke--was the lady known as Lou.

The Cremation of Sam McGee

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee , where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ‘round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell ;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see ;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow ,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan :
“It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ‘taint being dead--it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”

A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail ;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee ;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring ,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows—O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge , and a derelict there lay ;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “ Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum ;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-ium .”

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so ;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why ;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked;” . . . then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar ;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree , down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”