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Authors: Michael Morpurgo

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BOOK: Twist of Gold
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The
FARMERS
voice their assent.

COLONEL
: I thank you Matt Colby, friends; I thank you for your confidence. We should leave at dawn. And we should post a sentry at every fourth wagon as
we await sunrise. Tomorrow when we leave, I want two tight lines of wagons. No stragglers. If you have got a problem with a wheel and a shaft, you let the out-riders know and they’ll tell
me. We’ll be leaving no one behind. And we shall want two men to ride upfront with the guide – we do have a guide, I hope?

    
FRENCH CHARLIE
steps forward.

FRENCH CHARLIE
: Charlie Charbonnier: French Charlie they call me.

COLONEL
: Well, French Charlie, here’s the rules: no one leaves the camp alone at night; no one goes unarmed outside the perimeter of the corral;
and no alcohol – water is our fuel. Fill the barrels to the brim, Mr Colby.

FRENCH CHARLIE
: No whiskey?

COLONEL
: No whiskey. Guns and whiskey do not mix. Whiskey saps a man and we shall need all our strength to reach California. Now, goodnight to you all:
to your beds and sleep well. We’ve an early start tomorrow.

    
The
FARMERS
leave.

SEAN
: Well, that was quite something, Colonel.

ANNIE
: I didn’t know your name was Paul.

COLONEL
: You never asked. Now you take a blanket and sleep, both of you.

SEAN
: But I’m too excited to sleep.

COLONEL
: Lie down and look up at the stars.

    
They do so. Quiet, apart from the cicadas.

    
(In a lullaby voice.)
Always a source of wonder to me, children, that up there somewhere in the stars could be an old Colonel looking right up at
us and saying to his children: ‘Always a source of wonder to me, children, that up there somewhere in the stars could be an old Colonel looking right up at us and saying to his children:
“Always a source of wonder to me, children, that up there somewhere …”.’

    
And they have fallen asleep.

* * *

    
Dawn. The braying of horses. The lowing of cattle. The preparations of the wagon train.
FRENCH CHARLIE
approaches.

FRENCH CHARLIE
: Morning, Colonel.

COLONEL
: French Charlie. You will ride out a mile ahead of the column and send back a scout to report any problems to me – Indians, river
crossings. I reckon we should be travelling fifteen, twenty miles a day, all being well.

FRENCH CHARLIE
: You’ll be lucky.

COLONEL
: I hope so, Mr Charbonnier. Now, Mr Colby, we have a heck of a way to go, so let them wagons roll!

    
Yee-hah! And they’re off.
SEAN
plays a jig to set them on their way.

* * *

    
The journey passes – hot, dusty – and passes some more. Music. Weeks, months go by and are endured.

    
MATT COLBY
serves up the water from the barrel – equal ladles to each.

FRENCH CHARLIE
: I’ll have some more water, if you please.

    
MATT COLBY
looks at the
COLONEL
.

COLONEL
: Mr Charbonnier?

FRENCH CHARLIE
: I work harder than the others. ’Sonly right.

COLONEL
: If you take more than your fair share, then that means there’s less for the next person – and none for the next. No one will have
more than his ration. We survive only if we share.

    
FRENCH CHARLIE
draws a gun on the
COLONEL
.

FRENCH CHARLIE
: I suggest you change your mind, Colonel.

    
The
COLONEL
draws his gun on
FRENCH CHARLIE
.

COLONEL
: If you force me to shoot you, I will.

    
A
THIRD MAN
draws his gun on the
COLONEL
.

THIRD MAN/BOUNTY HUNTER
: I bin’ meanin’ to catch up with you, Colonel.

    
The
BOUNTY HUNTER
spies the
CHILDREN
.

BOUNTY HUNTER
: Well, lookee who’s here. Now I got a nice surprise for you. French Charlie here wanted to kill you all, but I said no, that
ain’t right. We’ll just leave ’em out here in the middle of nowhere without a drop of water. An’ French Charlie agreed. Now ain’t that just fine? Course,
’fore we leave, I’d be obliged if you’d open that fiddle case of your’n young man, and hand me that gold necklet.

SEAN
: I won’t!

COLONEL
: Do as he says, Sean.

    
SEAN
reluctantly does as he says.

BOUNTY HUNTER
: You’ll have to kill me to get this off me again. An’ you ain’t about to do that, is you? ’Fraid we ain’t
got no water to spare – a man dries out slowly in the sun…

FRENCH CHARLIE
:
(Addressing
MATT COLBY
.)
Now yous all be comin’ with us. I’m the only one knows the way
through this wilderness. And you can drink as much whiskey as you like to help you through.

ANNIE
:
(Railing at
BOUNTY HUNTER
.)
You take our torc with you, Mister, an’ you’ll die. ’Tis the
O’Brien torc.

BOUNTY HUNTER
: We all gotta die, girl.

MATT COLBY
: I’m staying with the Colonel and the children.

FRENCH CHARLIE
: We ain’t leaving you no water. You gotta know that.

MATT COLBY
: I reckons I got more chance with the Colonel than yous got without him.

COLONEL
: No, Matt. You go with them. He’s the only one knows the way out of this hell. He’s your best hope.

MATT COLBY
: But Colonel –

COLONEL
: That’s an order, soldier.

MATT COLBY
: Colonel. Take my drinking bottle.

COLONEL
: I will. Thank you. Now you get along back to your family – there’ll be someone along the trail to relieve us afore too long. On
your way now.

    
MATT COLBY
leaves with the
BOUNTY HUNTER
and
FRENCH CHARLIE
.

    We’ll not be downhearted, will we? Remember California – less than a week or so over those mountains. I’m very sorry you lost the torc
after all you’ve been through – but you’ve lost it before and got it back. We may have lost the battle, but the war is still to be won.

ANNIE
: Will we be travelling on

COLONEL
: Yes we will. While there’s a full moon, we’ll travel in the cool of the night – save our water. Rest up by day; march at
night. Will you play something, set us off to rest til’ nightfall, Sean?

    
He plays something melancholic.
ANNIE
rests. When
SEAN
has finished playing, he sleeps too. The
COLONEL
takes a long look at them, checks that they have the water bottle and then walks off into the desert, alone.

* * *

    
The moon rises.
ANNIE
awakes.

ANNIE
: Mister Colonel! Where are you Mister Colonel?

    
SEAN
awakes.

SEAN
: What is it Annie?

ANNIE
: The Colonel. He’s gone.

SEAN
: Where has he gone?

ANNIE
: He’s left us the water. I think he’s gone in order to save us. He’s left us so that we can march on with the water, helping us
that little bit further.

SEAN
: But we can’t go on. I can’t go on. I have no strength in me any more, Annie.

ANNIE
:
(Shaking him by the shoulders.)
We’ll not be giving up, Sean. Not after what the Colonel has done for us. We have to try, Sean. For
the Colonel’s sake. We have to try.

SEAN
: Oh, Annie. I think you’re right. Perhaps we should follow the Colonel?

ANNIE
: There is no trail to follow.

SEAN
: Shouldn’t we try to find him?

ANNIE
: Like he said, we’ve a heck of a way to go.

    
There’s a growl.

SEAN
: What was that?

    
The growl is even louder, closer.

ANNIE
: I’m not sure. But I’m not staying to find out.

    
And they exit, pursued by a
BEAR
.

* * *

    
Dawn.
SEAMUS FINN
looks down across the desert from the trees, through a telescope.

SEAMUS FINN
:
(To himself.)
A graveyard of a place. Sure, there’s not a bear fool enough to set a foot out there.
(Raises his voice to
the non-existent bear.)
You cost me a week of me life, you divil! I been trackin’ you for a week now. Don’t think you’ve seen the last of me, mister bear. You may have got
away this time, but there’s always the next time.

    
He puts his telescope to his eye for one last look – and spots something unexpected.

    
(Crossing himself.)
Jasus, Mary Mother of God. Will you look what is out there? Will you just look. What the divil’s a young boy like that
doing out there all on his own? Don’t I have enough troubles without addin’ to them? No gold, no bears in my traps, and now this? ’Tis not fair on a man, not fair at all.

    
SEAMUS
makes his way towards
SEAN
and
ANNIE
.

    An’ where the divil did you come from, young man? An’ who is that you have with you?

SEAN
: ’Tis my sister, Annie, and she’s near dying, mister, for want of water. Would you have some water, mister?

SEAMUS FINN
: To be sure I have, young man.

    
He hands
SEAN
his canteen and
SEAN
pours the water onto
ANNIE
’s parched
lips. As the water trickles down her throat, she coughs herself back to life.

SEAN
: Thank you, mister.

SEAMUS FINN
: Sure, ’tis nothing. An’ I should say you are about as lost as a young man could be. By the talk of you, you would be an
Irishman, would you not? No, but ’tis not possible. ’Tis years since I heard those dulcet tones from a man. ’Bout here they grunt and spit more’n they talk.
There’s no one speaks English as sweet as an Irishman. An’ that’s an Irish smile you’re wearin’. You’re never Irish, young man, are you?

SEAN
:
(Smiling.)
County Cork!

SEAMUS FINN
:
(Laughing.)
Kerry! I’m Seamus Finn from Kerry. Jasus, Mary Mother of God, it can’t be true. Out here in the middle of
nothin’ and I run into a lad from County Cork! An’ would she be from County Cork too?

ANNIE
: ’Course I am. I’m his sister, am I not?

SEAMUS FINN
: Sure you are, darlin’ – an’ welcome back to the land of the livin’.

    
SEAN
takes a big glug of water.

    Now, when your brother’s finished my water, then I’ll see yous both be gettin’ out of this terrible place. You’ll be on your
own, I suppose?

    
They say nothing.

    I suppose so then.
(To
ANNIE
.)
Can you walk, or shall I be carryin’ you?

    
He doesn’t wait for an answer and picks
ANNIE
up and carries her.

    And to think I nearly didn’t see you. If it hadn’t been for the bear that I’ve not seen or heard…maybe it was meant. I’ve
been talkin’ to nothin’ but the birds and beasts and a few Indians –

SEAN
: Indians?

SEAMUS FINN
: Sure – no one but these creatures for ten years or more. Been trappin’ up here all that time. Bears. Met a Russian or two, a
few Frenchmen. And I’ve known the odd American: you see them all down at the Fort where I take my bear skins for trading. But in all this time I’ve never met another proper
Irishman. Jasus, Mary Mother of God, I think I could die of happiness.

ANNIE
: Don’t die, mister.

SEAMUS FINN
: Oh, I won’t die ’til I’m entirely happy.

SEAN
: What would make you happy?

SEAMUS FINN
: Gold.

SEAN
: Gold?

SEAMUS FINN
: Gold. The fur trade’s all but finished, you know.

ANNIE
: No, I don’t know.

SEAMUS FINN
: The creatures are scarcer now and more wily. So it’s gold I’ve been after these past two summers. An’ all I find is
fool’s gold, by the bucketful. An’ now you. But I wasn’t lookin’ for you, now, was I?

    
He puts
ANNIE
down.

    I suppose it would be too much to hope that one of you plays that fiddle?

ANNIE
: Sean plays it.

    
SEAN
gets the fiddle out of its case.

SEAMUS FINN
: What a fine instrument, a fine sight indeed. An’ would you want to play it for me, young man? ’Twould stop old Seamus Finn from
prattling on, now, would it not?

    
SEAN
raises the violin to his chin – then lowers it.

SEAN
: Mr Finn. My heart would not be in it. Fiddler Donnelly – him that taught me how to play it – he said you should never play the fiddle
if your heart’s not in it. I’m thinking I won’t ever have the heart for it again.

ANNIE
: We’ve lost our mother, Mr Finn. And the golden torc, the ancient saviour of the O’Briens. We’ve lost our friends in shipwrecks,
waved goodbye to people we’ll never see again – and now we’ve lost the Colonel too, out there in the desert. We be looking for our father, out West in California. But now I
fear we’ve lost him too.

BOOK: Twist of Gold
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