Missing toes?
Holling shot off two of Jesse's toes.
- Is this it?
- This is it.
- How do you know?
- This feels right.
We'll, uh... we'll pitch our tents here.
- Holling?
- Yes, Shelly?
You are the greatest
grizzly hunter of them all.
But why'd you put down your gun?
The night I shot off Jesse's toes,
I fell asleep with my boots on.
I had this dream.
I was back deep in the forest,
when all of a sudden I heard them.
I opened one eye
and there they were, coming towards me.
Jesse was out front
leading the pack.
Every animal I'd ever killed -
moose, elk, rabbits, deer...
and hundreds of bears.
All of 'em packing heat,
aiming at me.
Really?
No, it was a dream.
But it had made the point.
Until a wolverine could blow out
my brains as easily as I could his,
my gun would forever remain silent.
Except for Jesse.
We'll get to bed early,
get a good night's sleep, and at the crack
of light, commence trackin' Jesse.
- Pass the biscuits?
- Sure, son.
Eat up, son.
More where that came from.
- Thanks, Maurice.
- Uh, Chris?
Do you mind if I close the gap
a little bit?
Oh, sure.
No, come down.
You make a mean biscuit, Maurice.
I was gettin' kinda lonely
down here by myself, anyway.
Uh, Chris?
- Yes, sir?
- Don't call me that.
- What?
- Sir. Don't call me sir.
- OK, Maurice.
- That too.
- What too?
- Maurice.
- That's your name.
- I know.
Look, Chris...
do you think that you could...
call me, uh...
Dad?
Um...
I know it sounds strange,
and it'd probably seem unnatural at first.
But would you just give it a try?
See how it sounds comin'
outta your mouth before you say no.
OK...
Dad.
Yeah!
That wasn't so hard, was it?
No, I guess not.
So...
how was, um...
- How was school today, son?
- Maurice, I'm not in school.
I know. I just wanted
to see how it felt to say that.
My dad used to say that
at the dinner table. "How was school?"
He'd talk about his work and then
Malcolm and I'd tell him about school.
- Course, Malcolm did most of the talking.
- What did he do, your old man?
He made airplane parts
and he made money.
The Spirit of St Louis had parts
designed by my dad in it.
- Really?
- Yeah, yeah.
He used to invite Don Douglas over
for dinner on Sunday nights.
The only thing we talked about around
our house was airplanes and flying.
Mm. He must have been pretty proud
of you when you became an astronaut.
No, not really. Malcolm
and my dad had the right stuff.
As far as they were concerned,
I was Spam in the can.
Huh.
I know what you mean, sort of.
I never really, you know,
lived up to any expectations either.
Oh, you will, son.
You will. Mark my words.
Well, time for a toast.
To fathers and sons.
To ties that bind, and to bonds
that cannot be broken.
It's 6.15, chinooks.
Rise and shine.
I can smell those griddlecakes.
Mom's squeezing Valencias.
Dad's getting ready for work. Today is
Family Day on "Chris In The Morning".
Let's do something nice
for our parents.
Clean up your rooms.
Bring Dad the paper.
Send the grandfolks the video
of the kids you've been promising.
Mm. Kept it warm for ya.
Might be a little muddy.
About now, Jesse'll be thinkin'
about takin' a breather,
sittin' his big fat rump down
on some smooth stones in a cold stream.
- Jesse likes salmon for breakfast.
- We'll go to the river flat, by the salt lick.
If we come from upstream, the way you
say, the long way, it'll be a two-hour hike.
That's the way I want it.
When I draw a bead on that bear,
I want the sun behind me.
Holling, honey?
Right there.
Douse the fire, Ed.
We're outta here.
OK.
Holling?
Hey, there.
Hey! I caught the show.
You actually got me to call my parents.
- All right. I hope that made them happy.
- Oh, yeah.
- D'you hear about me and Maurice?
- Yeah, I heard somethin' in passing.
Well, come on.
What do you think?
What do I think? Uh...
Gee, I don't know, you know. It sounds...
Look, I really... I don't like to