THE POST HOUSE IN THE PAMPAS.
The Pampas are the _Steppes_ of South America, with this difference,
that these immense plains, which extend from Buenos Aires, as far as
San Luis de Mendoza, to the foot of the Cordilleras, are clothed with
a thick carpet of long grass, undulating with the softest breath of
the wind, and are intersected by numerous water courses, some of great
magnitude, which cut it up in every direction.
The aspect of the Pampas is desperately monotonous and mournful. There
is neither wood nor mountain; not a single break of ground to form an
oasis of sand or granite, on which to rest the eye in the midst of this
ocean of green.
Only two roads traverse the Pampas, and connect the Atlantic with the
Pacific.
The first leads to Chili, passing by Mendoza; the second to Peru, by
Tucumen and Salta.
These vast solitudes are infested by two races of men, perpetually at
war with each other: the Indian Bravos, or Pampas, and the Guachos.
The Guachos, a caste peculiar to the Argentine provinces, are not to be
met elsewhere.
These men, charged with the supervision of the wild cattle and horses
which range at large through the whole extent of these wide plains,
are, for the most part, whites by race; but, crossed in blood with the
aborigines for many years, they have in time become almost as barbarous
as the Indians themselves, from whom they have learnt their cunning and
cruelty.
They live on horseback, lie in the bare sun, support themselves on the
flesh of their beasts when unlucky in the chase, and only approach the
towns and _haciendas_ for the purpose of exchanging their skins, their
_ñandú_ (the ostrich of the Pampas) plumes, and furs, for spirits,
silver spurs, powder, knifes, and the cloths of gaudy colours with
which they delight to adorn their persons.
The true Centaurs of the New World, as rapid as the Tartar riders of
the _Steppes_ of Siberia, they transport themselves with prodigious
speed from one extremity of the Banda Oriental to the other. They
recognise no law beyond the whim of the moment; no master but their
will. For the most part, they do not know the proprietor who employs
them, and whom they only see at rare intervals.
The Guachos are almost as much to be dreaded as the Indians by
travellers, who dare not venture upon the Pampas except in considerable
numbers, so as to afford mutual protection against the aggressions to
which they are constantly exposed, either from Indians or from the wild
beasts.
The caravans are usually composed of fifteen, or even twenty, wagons,
or _galeras_, drawn by six or eight oxen apiece. Their drivers,
crouching under the hide covering of the _galeras_, urge them on with
long goads, slung over their heads, with which they can easily reach
the leading oxen of the team.
A _capataz_, or _major-domo_,--a resolute man, thoroughly acquainted
with the Pampas,--commands the caravan, having under his orders some
thirty _peones_, who, like himself, are mounted, and gallop around the
convoy, watch the relief cattle, and, in case of attack, defend the
travellers of every age whom they escort.
Nothing can be seen at once so picturesque and sad as the aspect the
caravans present as they extend themselves in a long serpentine line
over the Pampas, advancing at a slow and regular pace along roads full
of quagmires, over which the immense _galeras_ roll, groaning on their
croaking and massive wheels, tottering with indescribable swayings and
joltings along ruts, out of which the oxen, lowing and stretching their
smoking nostrils to the ground, can hardly drag them.
Ofttimes these heavy caravans are passed by _arrieros_ (muleteers),
whose _recua_ (string of mules) trots gaily on, to the tinkling
of a silver bell attached to the neck of the _yegua madrina_ (the
leading mule), and to the sound of "_Arrea, mulos_" (Get on mules),
incessantly repeated, in all notes of the gamut, by the _arriero_ chief
and his _peones_ who gallop about the mules to prevent their straying
to right or left.
When night comes, the muleteers and ox drivers find precarious shelter
in the post houses--a kind of _tambas_ or _caravanseries_, built, at
considerable distances apart, in the Pampas. The _galeras_, detached
from the oxen, are ranged in single file; the burdens of the mules are
piled up in a circle; then, if the _corral_ (stables) be full, if there
be many travellers at the post house, beasts and men encamp together,
and spend the night under the open sky,--a mode of sleeping which is no
hardship in a country where cold is almost unknown. Then commence, by
the fantastic light of the bivouac fires, the long tales of the Pampas,
interspersed with joyous bursts of laughter, with songs, and words of
love uttered in whispers.
Yet it is rare for the night to pass over without a quarrel of some
sort arising between the muleteers and the drivers, who are by nature
jealous of each other, and enemies by profession. Then blood flows, the
consequence of a _navajada_ or two; for the knife always plays a too
active part among these men, whom no fear of consequences restrains in
their unbridled frenzy.
Now, on the night of the day on which our story begins, the last
post house on the Portillo road, when you leave the Pampas, going to
Buenos Aires, was overfilled with travellers. Two numerous _recuas de
mulas_ (strings of mules), which a month before had crossed the Alto
de Cumbre, and encamped on the Rio de la Cucoa, close to the Inca's
Bridge, one of the most singular natural curiosities in the country,
had lighted their fires before the post house, close to two or three
convoys of _galeras_, whose oxen were quietly lying in the interior of
the circle formed by the wagons.
The post house was a building of considerable extent, constructed
of _adobas_ (sundried bricks.) The entrance was furnished with a
portico--a species of peristyle formed of the trunks of four large
trees, planted in the ground in lieu of pillars, and supporting a
veranda broad enough to afford shelter from the piercing rays of the
sun.
In the interior of the _toldo_, as they call these miserable hovels,
resounded the songs and laughter of the drivers and muleteers, mingling
with the notes of a _vihuela_ (Spanish guitar), scraped with the
knuckles of the hand in a manner sufficient to drive one to despair,
and with the sharp and clamorous outcry of the postmaster, whose
squeaking voice strove in vain to quell the uproar, and regulate the
disorder.
Just at this moment the rapid gallop of many horses was heard; and two
parties of riders, coming from points diametrically opposite, stopped,
as with one accord, before the porch of the _toldo_, after passing with
great dexterity through the encampments before the post house, the
approaches to which were vastly obstructed by the _galeras_.
The first of these parties, consisting of only six riders, came from
the direction of Mendoza; the second from the opposite side, from the
heart of the Pampas: the latter comprised some thirty individuals at
least.
The unexpected arrival of the newcomers stopped, as by enchantment, the
clamour which the _ranchero_, or owner of the house, had been unable to
still, and a sudden silence seized on the company, which had been so
joyously uproarious a few minutes before.
The muleteers and drivers glided like shadows out of the house, and,
with furtive steps, regained their respective encampments, exchanging
uneasy looks amongst themselves; so that the room was empty in a
twinkling, and the _ranchero_ was able to come forward and receive the
guests who had arrived so unexpectedly. But he had scarcely reached the
threshold, and cast a glance outside, when a mortal pallor overspread
his visage, a convulsive shudder shook his frame, and his tones were
almost unintelligible, as he managed to stutter forth the essential
phrase of welcome in South America; "_¡Ave, María purísima!_" (Hail,
purest Mary!)
"_¡Sin pecado concebida!_" (immaculately conceived) answered the rough
voice of a tall cavalier, with harsh features and a ferocious eye, who
seemed to be the leader of the more numerous party.
We must observe that the second party appeared in some degree to share
the terror felt by the inhabitants of the post house; and having
perceived the others before their own presence was remarked, the six
cavaliers had prudently reined in their horses, and thrown themselves
into the shade as far as possible, being little desirous, in all
probability, of being inadvertently seen by the dangerous fellow
travellers amongst whom chance or ill luck had unfortunately thrown
them.
Now, who were these persons, the sight of whom sufficed of itself to
inspire a general panic and womanly consternation in the breasts of the
hardy explorers of the wilderness--of men whose life was a perpetual
struggle against the wild beasts, and who had so often confronted death
without blenching, that they almost fancied they were beyond his grasp?
At the time in which this story happens, the hateful and bloody tyranny
of that half-breed--that Nero who had nothing belonging to humanity
but its semblance, that ignorant and brutal _guacho_, that man-faced
tiger, in a word, Don Juan Manuel de Rosas--which had so long crushed
the Argentine provinces, was still all-powerful; and these men were
_federales_, hired assassins of that butcher in cold blood, whose name
is now damned by the execration of the world; in short, they were
members of that horrible _restauradora_ (regeneratory) society, better
known under the name of _mashorca_ (_mashorca_ signifies literally
"more gallows"), which for several years filled all Buenos Aires with
mourning. Constrained by public indignation, the Dictator, later on,
had made a pretence of dissolving this society; but he did nothing
of the sort, in reality; and up to the final fall of the unclean
tyrant, it existed _de facto_, and at the slightest sign of its master
scattered murder, violation, and fire through the length and breadth of
the confederation.
The reader can now understand the terror which seized upon the careless
and peaceable travellers assembled in the _toldo_, at the appearance of
the ominous uniforms of these hired ruffians, to whom pity was unknown.
Compelled by one of these instinctive presentiments which are seldom
fallacious, they felt that some misfortune threatened them. They crept
out with slouching heads, and hiding themselves behind their bales,
began to shudder in the darkness, without attempting to prepare for
resistance, which they knew would be futile.
In the meantime, the _colorados_, or _federales_, had dismounted, and
entered the _rancho_, marching on their toes, on account of their
enormous spur rowels, and allowing their heavy iron scabbards to trail
beside them: The clang made by these in their contact with the flooring
seemed a sound of evil augury to the terrified listeners.
"Halloa!" cried the leader, in a harsh voice; "_¡rayo de Dios!_ What
does this mean, _Caballeros?_ Does our arrival banish all pleasure from
this dwelling?"
The _ranchero_ multiplied his obeisances till he addled his brains with
bowing, and twisted his shapeless hat in both hands without finding
a word to say. At the bottom of his heart, this worthy man, who was
acquainted with the expeditious habits of his unwelcome guests, had the
greatest dread of being hanged forthwith; a thought which by no means
helped him to recover his presence of mind, and the coolness required
by circumstances.
The large room was barely lighted by a single smoky candle, shedding
a yellow and doubtful light. The _colorado_, coming from the open,
his eyes still clouded with the thick darkness on the Pampas, had
not been able to distinguish objects at first; but as soon as he had
got accustomed to the semi-obscurity which reigned around him, and
perceived that, with the exception of the _ranchero_, the place was
empty, he frowned, and stamped on the ground in ire.
"_¡Válgame Dios!_" he exclaimed, looking furiously at the poor devil
perspiring with fear before him, "Have I fallen unawares into a nest
of serpents? Is this miserable hut the meeting place of _salvajes
unitarios?_ Answer, wretch, or I will have your tongue torn out and
thrown to the dogs!"
The post master grew green with fear when he heard this menace,--a
threat he well knew these men capable of executing. He was still more
frightened at the expression _salvajes unitarios_, an epithet used to
designate the enemies of Rosas, and generally the prelude to a massacre.
"Señor General," cried he, with an heroic effort to utter a few words.
"I am not a general," broke in the _colorado_ in a somewhat smoother
tone, for his pride was secretly flattered by the sonorous title;
"I am not a general yet, though I hope to be one someday. I am only
_teniente_ (lieutenant), which is already a pretty step; so call me
nothing else for the present. Now, go on."
"Señor _Teniente,_" replied the _ranchero_, a little comforted, "there
is nobody here except good friends of the well beloved General Rosas;
we are all federals."
"Ha! I doubt that," said the terrible lieutenant. "You are too close to
Monte Video to be thorough Rosistas."
We must state here that throughout the Argentine provinces there was
only one town which had the noble courage to oppose itself to the
savage tyranny of the ruthless Dictator. This town, whose devotion to
the sacred cause of liberty has made it celebrated throughout both the
Old and New Worlds, is Monte Video. Resolute to perish, if it must be,
in the holy cause it bad embraced, it heroically sustained a siege of
nine years against the troops of Rosas, whose impotent efforts were
repeatedly shattered against its walls.
"Señor _Teniente_," replied the _ranchero_ obsequiously, "the people
who meet here are solely _arrieros_ and wagoners, who are only
passers-by, and never meddle with politics."
This explanation, which the postmaster thought most adroit, had no
influence on the _colorado._
"_¡Vive Dios!_" he cried, with haughty voice, "We will see; and woe to
the traitor I discover! Luco," he continued addressing his _cabo_, or
corporal, "just step and rouse up those brute beasts, and bring them
hither. If any sleep too soundly, stir them up with the point of the
sabre; it will exhilarate them and induce them to move more quickly."
The _cabo_ gave a malicious grin, and went out immediately to execute
his orders.
The lieutenant, after addressing a few more questions of minor
importance to the _ranchero_, at last thought fit to seat himself
on the bench which ran round the room, and, to enliven the time of
the corporal's absence, set himself to consume the liquor and food
assiduously placed before him by the host, who was swearing to himself
all the while at being obliged to find drink gratis for so many. He
knew well that, though the consumption of liquors by the soldiers would
be enormous, he would never see the colour of their money, and might
think himself happy if he escaped without other damage.
The soldiers, except five or six who remained without in charge of the
horses, seated themselves by their officer, and followed his example in
drinking like sponges.
The corporal's task was easier than he expected, for the poor devils of
muleteers and drivers had overheard the peremptory order of the leader.
Comprehending that resistance would not only be useless, but make their
situation worse, they obeyed their officer's orders with resignation,
and came back again into the room, attempting to hide their fright with
ill-counterfeited smiles.
"Aha!" cried the lieutenant; "I knew we should find some malcontents
here,--ay, good people?"
The peasants multiplied their excuses and protestations, to which the
lieutenant listened with the greatest indifference, taking all the
while short sips from an enormous goblet, filled to the brim with
_refino de Catalonia_, the strongest spirit known.
"There, that will do," said he at last, making the steel scabbard of
his sword rattle against the bench; "let us reconnoitre a little; and
first of all, for whom are you, in the devil's name?"
The travellers, terrified by this demonstration, answered the question
by hastening to shout at the top of their voices, and with an
enthusiasm the more demonstrative the less it was real:
"_Viva el benemérito General Rosas, Viva el libertador, Vivan los
federales, Mueren los salvajes unitarios. A degüello, a degüello con
ellos._"[1]
These well-known federal cries, which served as rallying calls in their
bloody expeditions, dispelled the doubts of the officer. He deigned to
smile; but it was a tiger's smile, exposing the white fangs ready to
bite.
"_Bravos, Bravos_," he cried: "that is right at all events. These are
true Rosistas. Come, _ranchero, trago de aguardiente_" (a draught of
brandy) "for these worthy people. I intend to treat them."
The _ranchero_ could have easily dispensed with this factitious
generosity of the officer, the cost of which he well knew he should
have to pay out of his own pocket. However, he executed the order,
hiding the chagrin he felt under the most gracious air he could assume.
The cries and protestations of federalism were renewed with redoubled
ardour: the brandy circulated, and joy seemed to have reached a climax.
The lieutenant next took a guitar, which happened to lie beside him.
"Come, _muchachos_," said he; "a _zambacueca_" (a Mexican dance).
"_Voto a Dios_, Room for the dance."
There was no refusing. Whatever the secret fears of those present,
the gracious invitation of the _colorado_ was so neatly put, that they
were obliged to take heart of grace, as the saying is, and play their
parts to the end. It was the best plan to resign themselves to their
lot. They were in the claws of the tiger, who might devour them at any
moment if the fancy seized him.
The middle of the room was cleared; the dancers, male and female, took
their places, their eyes fixed on the officer, in expectation of his
signal.
They had not long to wait; as soon as the lieutenant saw his victims
prepared, he swallowed an enormous bumper of _refino_, and set himself
to rattle on the guitar with his knuckles; while he sang, or rather
screeched, in a shaky voice, the gay _zambacueca_ so well known in the
Argentine provinces, and which begins with the following charming verse:
"Para que vas y vienes,
Vienes y vas.
Si otros andar menos,
Consiguen más?"[2]
It has been truly said that the Spaniards are excessively fond of
dancing; but in this, as in many other matters, the South Americans
have left them far behind They have carried this passion to such a
pitch, that it reaches the limits of folly. The scene we are about to
describe will prove the truth of our assertion.
These very men, who had only consented to dance because, as one may
say, the knife was at their throats, and were still under the influence
of extreme terror, had scarcely heard for a few minutes the groaning
chords of the guitar, and the words which marked the time, than they
immediately forgot their precarious position, and gave themselves up
heart and soul, in a sort of savage frenzy, to their favourite pastime.
Those who at first had prudently kept themselves within bounds, in
consequence of their anxiety, were soon fascinated by the bounds of the
dancers, and leaped and stamped, howling, like the others, with all the
strength of their lungs.
Thus at the close of a few minutes all constraint had vanished, and the
noise had again grown as deafening, and the uproar as stunning, as it
had been when the federals arrived.
Meanwhile the corporal had diligently carried out the orders he had
received from his superior; but, as we said above, the muleteers and
wagoners, having accidentally stopped in front of the _rancho_, and
then entered the room of their own accord, had materially lightened
his task. But that worthy officer, zealous in the performance of his
duty, had taken half a dozen soldiers with him, and scoured the several
encampments, passing the blades of their swords between the bales,
looking into the insides of the _galeras,_--in a word, ferreting
about everywhere, with the sagacity of an old bloodhound which it is
impossible to baffle.
Persuaded at last, after the most minute search, that all those whom
he thus looked after had entered the _rancho_, he determined to follow
them. But the uproar he heard inside convincing him that all was going
right, for the time at least, he changed his mind, and dismissing the
soldiers who were with him, and who desired nothing better than to join
the merriment, remained outside.
As soon as he found himself alone, the corporal's whole demeanour
changed. He first satisfied himself that no indiscreet eye observed his
motions; he then rolled a cigarette between his fingers, lit it, and,
walking backwards and forwards with the air of an idler enjoying his
leisure, gradually increased his distance from the porch.
After some ten minutes of this manoeuvring, which bore no bad
resemblance to a ship tacking against a contrary breeze in her
endeavours to get away from her port, he found he had passed beyond the
wagoners' camps, and was so far from the _rancho_, that, thanks to the
obscurity of the night, it was impossible to see him from thence. He
immediately stopped, looked once more round him, and threw the lighted
cigar in the air.
The light _pajillo_ described a brilliant parabola against the sky, and
then fell to the ground, when the corporal extinguished it with his
foot.
At the same moment a slender line of fire sparkled in the obscurity a
little way off.
"Good," growled the corporal; "see what it is to be prudent."
A second time he scanned the neighbourhood narrowly; then, reassured by
the obscurity which reigned around, he resolutely turned aside into the
darkness, humming under his breath these three verses of a song well
known in the Pampas:
"O Libertad preciosa No comparado al oro Ni al bien mayor de la
espaciosa tierra."[3]
Directly, a voice, low as a whisper, took up the subsequent verses:
"Más rica y más gozosa Que el más precioso tesoro."[4]
At this response, which he doubtless expected, the corporal stopped
short. He struck the end of his scabbard on the ground, rested himself
on the hilt, and said aloud, as if talking to himself:
"I should like to know why the _ñandús_ (ostriches) have so suddenly
taken themselves off into the Pampas?"
"Because," answered the voice which had continued the song, "they
smelt the odour of dead bodies."
"That may be true," said the corporal, without seeming astonished at
the answer which came so oddly; "but then the _condors_ would come down
from the Cordilleras."
"It is already twenty-one days since they passed the Alto de Cumbre."
"The sunset yesterday was red."
"His rays reflected the light of the conflagrations caused by the
_mashorca_," said the voice again.
The corporal hesitated no longer.
"Approach, Don Leoncio," cried he; "you and your companions."
"We are here, Luco;" and the corporal was immediately surrounded by six
persons, armed to the teeth.
It is useless to say that these men were the six persons who an
hour before had arrived at the post house simultaneously with the
_colorados_, and whom prudence had induced to remain concealed.
The dancing and shouting in the _rancho_ still went on. The merriment
was gradually growing into a gigantic orgy.
Consequently the strangers were sure they should not be disturbed.
Moreover, although the moon had now risen, and gave a certain amount
of light, the little group, sheltered by the wagons behind which they
stood, was in no danger of discovery; while, thanks to its position,
nobody could leave the _rancho_, without being seen directly by those
composing it.
We will profit by the moonbeams to depict in a few words these fresh
personages; a task made more easy by the fact that they had dismounted,
and were holding their horses by the bridles.
We said they were six in number: the first three were evidently
_peones_; but their heavy silver spurs, their _tirador_, or girdle
of embroidered velvet, their beautifully chased weapons, their rich
_ponchos_ of fine Bolivian vicuña wool, and, above all, the respectful
familiarity which they used towards their masters, indicated that they
had earned for themselves a certain degree of consideration.
These _peones_ were, in fact, not only servants, but friends; humble
ones, it is true, but devoted ones, tried many a time in scenes of
frightful danger.
Of the masters, two were men of about thirty-five, in all the vigour of
their age and strength. Their dress, similar in cut to that of their
servants, was only distinguished from it by the superior richness and
fineness of its texture.
The foremost was a tall and well-built person, with graceful manners
and elegant gestures. The outline of his face was proud and decided,
and his hardy features expressed a kindness and frankness which, at
first sight, won the sympathy and regard of all.
His name was Don Leoncio de Ribera.
His companion, of the same size and figure, and endowed with the same
manners, formed, nevertheless, a perfect contrast to Don Leoncio.
His soft blue eyes; the thick curls of blonde hair, which escaped in
large masses from under his Panama hat, and flowed in disorder on his
shoulders; the cream-coloured skin, which contrasted with the olive
and slightly bronzed complexion of Don Leoncio,--seemed to indicate
that he was not born under the burning sun of South America. Yet this
cavalier could proudly claim, even more than the latter, the quality
of a veritable _hijo del país_[5] since he descended in a direct line
from the brave and unhappy Tupac Amaru, the last Inca, so basely
assassinated by the Spaniards.
He was called Manco Amaru, Diego de Solis y Villas Reales; and we beg
our reader's pardon for this litany of names.
Don Diego de Solis concealed the courage of the lion under the
effeminacy of a woman, and nerves of steel under the skin of his soft
white hands.
As to the third cavalier, who kept himself modestly retired behind the
others, he had wrapped himself up so carefully in the voluminous folds
of his _poncho_, and the rim of his hat was so well pulled down over
his countenance, that is was impossible to distinguish any part of him
except two large black eyes, which flashed forth flames of fire. His
small size, delicate limbs, and a certain soft smoothness about his
movements, would lead one to suppose that he was still a youth, if this
masculine attire did not conceal a woman, which seemed more probable.
However that may be, no sooner did the corporal find himself in the
presence of the persons we have described, than there was a complete
metamorphosis in his whole appearance. His rough and fierce demeanour
was exchanged for a flattering obsequiousness, denoting complete
devotedness; and his countenance lost its mocking expression, to take
that of decided pleasure.
Don Leoncio had difficulty in moderating the outbursts of foolish joy
to which the soldier gave vent, with the unconstraint of a man who at
length enjoys a happiness he has long been vainly expecting.
"There, there, Luco," said he; "be calm. You see it is I. There,
there; be moderate, _muchacho_ this is not the time for outpourings of
affection."
"It is true, _mi amo_" (my master); "but I am so happy to see you again
after such a length of time," and he brushed away the tears which
rolled down his bronzed cheeks.
Don Leoncio felt deeply moved by the affection of his old servant, and
replied:
"Thanks, Luco; you are indeed a good and trusty fellow."
"And yet, in spite of the happiness I feel in seeing you once more,
I wish you had not returned at such an unlucky moment. _Mi amo_, the
times are bad; the tyrant is more powerful than ever in Buenos Aires."
"I know. Unfortunately, I could not postpone my journey, in spite of
the perils to which I should be exposed."
"_¡Válgame Dios_, señor! This is a terrible life we are now leading."
"What is to be done? We must all take our share of the unavoidable. Are
my orders fulfilled?"
"Yes, all, _mi amo:_ your brother is forewarned. Unluckily, I could not
go myself to inform him: I was forced to send a _guacho_, of whom I
knew little. But do not be uneasy, señor; your brother will not fail to
be here in a few hours."
"Good; but you seem to have come here in considerable numbers."
"Alas, it could not be helped; I am so spied after, _mi amo._ I was
obliged to use the most extraordinary efforts to induce the lieutenant
to bring so few."
"We had very nearly run into his arms."
"Yes; and I was in a dreadful fright at the moment, for I had
recognised you already, señor: God knows what would have happened had
you met."
"And now, is this lieutenant to be trusted?"
Luco shook his head sorrowfully.
"He! _Mi amo_, take heed. He is one of the most ferocious
_mashorqueras_ of that evil dog Rosas."
"The devil he is!" said Don Leoncio, with a troubled look. "I fear, my
poor Luco, your too great confidence has led us into a hornet's nest,
out of which we shall have some trouble to escape safe and sound."
"It is a difficult case--I will not attempt to deny it. You must be
very cautious, and let no one strike your trail. The principal thing is
to gain time."
"True," said Don Leoncio, plunging into a reverie.
"How many are there of you?" said Don Diego, mixing in the conversation
for the first time.
"Thirty-five, counting the lieutenant, señor; but he is a devil
incarnate, and counts for four at least."
"Pooh!" replied Don Diego carelessly, while he stroked his blonde
moustache; "we are seven when we count you, my good fellow."
"Who is this lieutenant?"
"Don Torribio, formerly a _guacho._"
"Oh," said Don Leoncio, disgusted, "Torribio _Degüello!_" (literally,
Torribio the Butcher).
"_¡Voto a brios!_" replied Don Diego; "How I should like to plant my
knee on the breast of that wretch! Well, what are we to do?"
"You forget who is with us," said Don Leoncio, quickly, casting a
glance at the motionless figure behind.
"It is true," said the young man; "I am mad. Forgive me, friend; we
cannot be too cautious."
"It is lucky," observed Luco, "that you have not brought Doña Antonia
with you. Poor dear niña! she would die here, were she exposed to the
devils in whose midst we are."
All of a sudden before Don Leoncio had time to reply, a horrible
clamour arose in the _rancho_, several shots were heard, and a score of
men and women, frantic with fear, rushed into the open with shouts of
terror, and dispersed in all directions.
"Hide yourselves!" cried Luco. "Good God! What can this mean? I will be
back directly; but, for God's sake, do not let them see you. Farewell
for a time! I must go and see what is the matter."
Leaving Don Leoncio and his companions in dreadful anxiety, the
corporal ran towards the house, where the tumult was increasing every
minute.
[1] "Long live the well-beloved General Rosas! Long live the liberator!
Long live the federals! Death to the unitarian savages! Slay them! Slay
them!"
[2] These words will hardly bear translation Their general meaning is
this: Why do you go and return, return and go; if others go less far,
they gain more by it.
[3] "O precious Liberty! One cannot compare you to gold nor to the
greatest riches in the spacious world."
[4] "More rich and more cherished than the most precious treasure."
[5] Child of the country; a very common expression in South America.