The mob is sobering up now, except for Sampson, of course. He looks to make a move toward the porch. This angers Sol, who is still up in the wagon, looking through his sights at the crowd and probably wetting his pants. "Stay back!" he says, firing into the air. "Stay the fuck back while my partner...while my partner's taking his sweet-ass time writin' whatever the fuck he's writin' over there." Oh, the heterosexual man love. Nowhere is it stronger than between those two.
In fact, Bullock is quickly writing down the dead man's last words. He asks for a volunteer from the crowd to deliver them to the sister. Sampson doesn't like this and threatens his groupies, saying none of them better make a move. They're so over him now, though. One of the grungiest among him says, "Sheeit. I'll do it," and goes to take the letter from Bullock, which comes complete with his Marshal's badge.
Bullock thanks him, grabs up his gun, jumps on the back of the wagon, and off they drive, into the night.
Light dawns and we find ourselves in the Black Hills of the Dakota region in July of 1876. There's a traffic jam due to a broken-down wagon. A very pissed-looking woman in men's clothing goes down the line yelling, "Same damn wagon that broke down yesterday, Bill!" Bill, laid up in the back of a wagon, hears there's no room to maneuver and cracks, "Sounds like it's tighter out there than a bull's ass in fly season." Strangely enough, the rough-looking chick is charmed by this. She demurs at his joke and asks, "How's your headache?" Bill: "Not bad." She wants to know if she should canvas for whiskey. Oh, he's hung over. "That's all right, Jane." He says he's familiar with her canvassing techniques and doesn't want any casualties on his conscience.
Meet Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane, y'all: the cutest couple that never was.
Jane looks worried and this makes her mad (as everything else will for the entire season). Jumping down, she shouts out that it's ONLY Wild Bill Hickok they've got stuck here in the mud. She goes on to insult any and all of them, calling their attempts to get the wagon out of the mud a "goddamn circus" before she looks out over the ridge to see a town, gleaming in the valley.
We cut to Bullock moving into town at the front of the wagon train. Everything is in motion. People are building, exchanging goods, panning out their gold prospects. Everybody looks to be on the make. The place is dirty and kind of scary. There's even a thrown-together stand at the side of the road with a sign reading "Whiskey Shots." I'm vividly reminded of my last trip to New Orleans. Some guy is gutting a goat, while another one holds up two chickens for sale. The street is lined with shady characters. Welcome to Deadwood.