Owen Thursday was a tall man, dried out to
leather and bone and sinew. Whatever he was doing, he moved about incessantly,
not with nerves, but with primeval restlessness; not with impatience, but with
an echo of lost destiny.
Bellah’s elegiac story was adapted into John Ford’s excellent Fort Apache. It is rare that we have lighting
strike twice where the beauty in print matches the beauty on screen. Here we have
such magic.
I’ll not bother wasting time summarizing the familiar, suffice to say
it still holds power.
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