The procession begins moving again.
The pace slows. Only a short distance remains to the neighbouring village.
EXT. BUXTON VILLAGE – DAY
Houses line both sides of the public road.
The people of Buxton have heard that the procession is coming.
The village is alive with anticipation.
Men gather along the roadside.
Women stand on verandahs.
Children climb onto fences for a better view.
The distant sound of the procession approaches.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
The first mourners appear.
Then more.
And more.
BUXTON MEN step forward from the roadside.
Among them are PROMINENT VILLAGERS—respected elders, community leaders, teachers, shopkeepers, and representatives of the village.
They remove their hats.
An ELDERLY VILLAGER steps into the road.
He looks toward the approaching coffins.
His eyes fill with tears.
ELDER
Let them pass.
The crowd parts.
The FIVE COFFINS enter Buxton.
The villagers join the procession, one after another.
SYDNEY KING steps into the leading group.
More villagers follow until the Buxton contingent becomes part of the procession.
EXT. BUXTON MAIN ROAD – CONTINUOUS
A procession of Indians and Negroes—men, women, and children—moves through the village.
EXT. EAST COAST MAIN ROAD – DAY
The procession moves westward.
The road has become a human river.
Men walk in front.
Women follow.
Children cling to their mothers.
Workers from neighbouring plantations join the march.
From every Logie Settlement along the route, PEOPLE COME OUT.
They stand on the parapets.
They stand in their yards.
They stand beneath coconut palms.
They gather beside rum shops and small wooden houses.
They watch.
Faces marked by sadness.
Men clutch shovels, cutlasses, and forks.
No one works as the procession passes.
A FARMER slowly removes his hat.
A woman places her hand against her heart.
An old man bows his head.
A group of schoolchildren stand in silence.
The five coffins pass.
The children watch them disappear down the road.
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