A DELICATE FEDERAL ATTENTION.
We will run before the corporal, in order to explain to the reader what
had happened in the _rancho._
At first everything went off well. After the first moment of distrust
and fear, the muleteers and wagoners, involuntarily submitting to the
influence of their favourite pastime, had utterly forgotten their
apprehensions, and fraternised with the soldiers. The _aguardiente_
went round uninterruptedly from one end of the room to the other; the
merriment increased in proportion to the draughts, which, by frequent
repetition, began to heat the brains of the drinkers, among whom the
first symptoms of drunkenness were showing themselves here and here.
Nevertheless the lieutenant, Don Torribio, his eyes sparkling and his
countenance excited, continued to sing, to torture the guitar, and
specially to drink, without any signs of meditated evil; and perhaps
all might have ended well, but for an incident which suddenly changed
the aspect of things, and turned a scene of joy into a spectacle of
terror.
One of the best and most brilliant dancers of the _zambacueca_ was a
young muleteer of from twenty to twenty-five, with fine and intelligent
features, well-knit figure, and easy manner, who distinguished
himself greatly by the lightness and grace of his dancing. The women
crowded round him, cast the most killing looks at him, and applauded
extravagantly the eccentric steps it was his pleasure to execute.
Among these females were two, both girls of sixteen, radiant with the
beauty peculiar to South America, and which finds no equivalent in
Europe. The black eyes, shaded by long silken lashes; the mouth, with
lips red as the fruit of the _chirimoya_ (Mexican pear); the face,
slightly bronzed by the heat of a tropical sun, over which fell the
long tresses of bluish-black hair; the rounded figure, supple and
slender; the wavy movements, full of inimitable grace; all these charms
united constituted that intoxicating and voluptuous kind of beauty,
which it is impossible to analyse, but of which the most frigid mortal
cannot resist the magnetic influence and fascinating spell.
These two females made themselves conspicuous by the exuberant praises
they showered on the object of their predilection. The latter, we
must do him the justice to say, seemed to take very little notice of
the enthusiasm he excited. He was a good fellow, whose heart, if not
his head, was perfectly free; who danced for dancing's sake, because
it pleased him, and because the rough life he led rarely afforded an
opportunity for enjoying his favourite amusement; moreover, he was
totally indifferent about inspiring either one or the other of his
admirers with any kind of passion whatever. The two latter, although
with a woman's innate instinct they understood his indifference, and
were secretly hurt at it, nevertheless continued to lavish on him the
most passionate expressions of admiration of which the Spanish language
is capable, as a means of evincing the interest they took in his
proceedings.
These demonstrations grew at last so lively and pointed, that the
greater number of the men present--who would each, in his secret
heart, have given a good deal for the preference of either of these
beautiful creatures--began, as is generally the case, to hate the
muleteer for the indifference he displayed, and to upbraid him for
serious want of politeness and unpardonable ignorance of good manners,
in showing no gratitude for such enthusiastic praise.
The muleteer, embarrassed by the position in which he had involuntarily
been placed while he was only laudably endeavouring to amuse
himself, and compelled, as we may say, by his companions' murmurs of
disapprobation, to re-establish his impugned reputation for courtesy,
decided on finding some means or other of withdrawing honourably from
his disagreeable situation, and with that purpose determined to ask the
two girls to dance with him one after the other.
Full of these good intentions, as soon as the lieutenant--who had
temporarily interrupted his inharmonious strumming to help himself
to an immense goblet of _aguardiente_--began to rattle a fresh
_zambacueca_ on his guitar, the _arriero_ advanced with a smile on his
lips, and graciously saluted the two girls.
"Señorita," said he, to the one who chance to bed nearest, "will you
make me happy by dancing this _zambacueca_ with your humble servant?"
The girl, all rosy with delight at what she imagined the preference
of the handsome dancer, was coming forward with outstretched hand,
and beginning to reply, when suddenly her companion, who had turned
pale on hearing the _arriero's_ invitation, bounded between them like
a tigress, and, with trembling lips and flaming eyes, confronted the
young couple.
"You shall not dance together!" she cried in menacing tones.
The spectators of this extraordinary and unexpected scene recoiled in
amazement: they were unable to comprehend this sudden burst of anger.
The two would-be dancers exchanged looks of astonishment.
The situation grew intolerable, and the _arriero_ determined to put an
end to it.
The second girl was still standing right in front of him, her figure
slightly thrown back, and firmly planted on her feet, her head erect,
her cheeks inflamed, her nostrils quivering like those of a wild beast,
and her arm extended in an attitude of menace and defiance.
The _arriero_ took a step forward, and made a very respectful bow to
the damsel.
"Señorita," said he, "allow me to remark--"
"_Calle Vd. la boca_" (hold your tongue), "Don Pablo!" she angrily
exclaimed, interrupting him in the middle of his speech; "I have
nothing to say against you; but look at this _chola sin vergüenza_"
(shameless hussy), "who, knowing you to be the best dancer in the
_rancho_, wants to monopolise you for her own benefit."
On hearing the insult her companion had thus boldly cast in her teeth,
the other damsel hastily shook off Don Pablo, and placed herself face
to face before her assailant.
"You lie, Manonga!" cried she: "It is jealousy that made you utter
these words; you are furious at the preference with which this
_caballero_ honours me."
"I!" said the other disdainfully; "You are a fool, Clarita; I care no
more for the _caballero_ than for a sour orange."
"Indeed!" sneered Clarita; "Then, pray what may be the reason of this
sudden fury?"
"Because," sharply retorted Manonga, "I have known you for a long time;
you want a lesson, and I am going to give you one."
"You, indeed!" said the other, shrugging her shoulders; "Take care lest
you get one yourself!"
"_Ojalá_; add another word, and, by my soul, I will knife you!"
"Pooh! you don't even know how to handle a navaja" (knife).
"_A ver;_" (we will see), shouted Manonga, beside herself with rage;
and, bounding back, she drew a knife from her bosom, wrapped her
_rebozo_ (veil) round her left arm, and threw herself on guard.
"_A ver;_" screamed Clarita, echoing the words, and taking up her
position with the same celerity as her adversary.
A duel between the two girls was imminent.
Don Pablo, the innocent cause of this combat, had several times vainly
tried to mediate between the two females. Neither one nor the other
would listen to his speech, nor attend to his remonstrances. When
matters had reached this point, he wanted to make a fresh effort: but
this time he was more sharply repulsed than before; for the bystanders,
interested in the dispute, and infinitely attracted by the longing
to see a duel with knives between two women, turned against him, and
peremptorily bade him be quiet, and leave the _niñas_ (darlings) to
amuse themselves as they thought fit.
The _arriero_, thoroughly satisfied that he could wash his hands of the
consequences, and whose good nature alone had induced him to attempt
to prevent an explosion, saw that his mediation was looked upon with
an unfavourable eye, so thought he had said his say; and, folding his
arms, prepared to be, if not an indifferent, at least a disinterested
spectator of the coming struggle.
It was, indeed, a singular and striking spectacle to see, in this dimly
lighted room, amidst the crowd of strange costumes, these two girls,
fiercely and resolutely standing two paces apart, ready to come to
knife thrusts, while the music and the dance continued as if nothing
was the matter, while the _aguardiente_ was poured forth in floods, and
while the merriest and maddest songs were shouted out around them.
"_¡Vaya pués!_" (now for the sport!) cried Clarita: "With how many
inches do we fight, _querida?_" (my darling).
"With the whole length of the blade, _alma mía_" (my soul), answered
Manonga; "I mean to leave my handwriting on your face!"
"Ah, _puñaladas!_ We shall see. Are you ready, my dear?"
"As soon as you like, my pet!"
A ring was formed round the damsels, who, with bodies bent forward,
left arms extended, and eye watching eye, waited, with feline
impatience, for a propitious moment to rush upon each other.
They seemed well matched, both being young, active, and full of nerve.
The _connoisseurs_ in those matters, of whom there were many in the
attentive crowd of bystanders, could form no opinion on the result of
the combat, which threatened, for the matter of that, to be desperate,
such flashes of ire sparkled from the wild eyes of the duellists.
After a moment or two of hesitation, or more properly speaking of
gathering themselves up, Clarita and Manonga began to clack their
tongues against their palates, producing a series of sharp smacking
sounds; their blue gleaming knives glittered, and they darted upon each
other.
But if the attack was lively, the defence and the parry was not less
so. Both simultaneously bounded back, and fell into guard again. Each
stroke had told; the battle had begun bravely, and either combatant had
her face furrowed by a bleeding double cut. Neither one nor the other
had predicted falsely: each bore the handwriting of the other on her
countenance. The bystanders trembled with joy and admiration: never
before had they been spectators of such a splendid _navajada._
After taking breath for a while, the damsels were preparing to
recommence the fight, this time with the determined purpose of making
the bout decisive, when, all of a sudden, the ranks of the onlookers
were shouldered right and left, and a man resolutely thrust himself
between the two adversaries, and confronted them with a look of scorn.
"Hearken, _demonios!_" he cried in a sharp tone, and with accents of
indescribable mockery.
The two women lowered their knives, and stood motionless, with eyes
abashed, but head erect, their foreheads frowning, and preserving their
attitude--the haughty expression of two foes who long to tear each
other to pieces, and unwillingly succumb to commands, which they dare
not disobey, though they curse them.
In spite of the deafening uproar the federalist lieutenant made with
his guitar, he could not help hearing, at last, what was going on in
the room. At the first impulse, he had placed his hand on the pistols
which hung at his girdle; but an instant afterwards his anger grew, not
calm, but cold and concentrated, instead of furious.
Don Torribio had risen from his seat, left the bench on which he sat
enthroned, and furtively approached the combatants. He had attentively
watched the different phases of the fight, and when he thought proper
to interfere, had suddenly interposed between the duellists.
The soldiers had silently advanced behind their officer; they were now
close at his heels, their hands on their weapons, ready for action at
the first signal, foreseeing that Don Torribio's interference in this
quarrel would speedily bring about another, in which they would have to
take part.
Intuitively, the ring formed by the _arrieros_ and wagoners had
extended itself, and a large space was left open in the middle of the
room. The two girls stood in the centre of the circle, knife in hand;
and the lieutenant, with his arms crossed, amused himself by examining
them narrowly, with a cynical sneer on his lips.
"Holloa, my chickens!" said he; "What! Are you ruffling your feathers
for a cock? Is there only one on the perch? _¡Rayo de Dios!_ What
splendid St. Andrew's crosses you have dug in each other's faces! Are
you both mad for love of this _pícaro?_" (ragamuffin).
Neither spoke; and the lieutenant continued his sarcastic speech:
"But where is this valiant champion, who lets the women fight for him?
Does his modesty make him hide himself?"
Don Pablo came forward, looked the lieutenant straight in the face, and
answered firmly: "Here I am."
"Aha!" said Don Torribio, staring at him for some time; "You are in
truth a handsome fellow. I do not wonder at their passion for you."
The _arriero_ remained mute, fully understanding the irony of the
compliment.
"There, _niñas_," the lieutenant went on speaking to the damsels,
"which of you is the chosen one of this breaker of hearts? _¡Mil
rayos!_ Speak out!"
There was an interval of silence.
"Oh, that is it!" resumed Don Torribio; "You do not exactly know. Come,
young fellow, do you speak, and tell me which of the two you prefer."
"I have no preference for either," said the _arriero_ coolly.
"_¡Caramba!_" exclaimed the lieutenant, with pretended admiration;
"_que gusto_" (what good taste.) "So I am to understand you love them
both alike?"
"No; you are mistaken, señor. I love neither one nor the other."
"_¡Rayas pués!_ That is a puzzler; and yet you let them fight for you.
That is conduct worthy of chastisement, my master! As that is the
case, I shall reconcile you two señoritas, and give a lesson to the
discourteous _caballero_ who flouts at the power of your black eyes.
Upon my soul, such an insult calls for vengeance."
The spectators of the scene felt their hearts sink within them, while
the soldiers laughed and jested among themselves.
On pronouncing his last words, the lieutenant drew a pistol from
his belt, cocked it, and presented the muzzle at the breast of the
_arriero_, who, motionless as ever, had made no gesture to escape the
fate that threatened him.
But the two girls were roused. With the velocity of thought, they both
at once threw themselves before him.
Manonga felt her breast pierced by the ball. "Alas!" she cried; "You
despise me! What does it matter? I die for you! Clarita, I forgive you!"
Don Pablo bounded over the body of the luckless wretch, whose dying
eyes still sought his, and threw himself, knife in hand, on the
lieutenant. The latter hurled his heavy pistol at his head; but the
_arriero_ avoided the weapon, seized the officer round the body, and
a deadly fray began. Clarita, with flaming eyes, eagerly watched the
struggle between the two, ready to interfere as soon as an opportunity
offered in favour of her beloved.
The bystanders were horrified; the dread inspired by the soldiers was
so great, that although many more in number, and all armed, they dared
not go to the assistance of their comrade.
In the meantime, the soldiers, more than half-drunk, seeing their
officer struggling with a stranger, unsheathed their swords, and struck
right and left among the crowd, shouting out their dreaded cry:
"_¡A degüello! ¡A degüello! los salvajes unitarios_" (Death, death to
the savage Unitarians!)
Then ensued a scene of horror in the room, which was crowded with human
beings.
The _arrieros_, pursued by the soldiers, who were pitilessly cutting
them down, and calling to each other to slay, thronged towards the door
to escape impending death. The disorder was at its height; all wanted
to escape at once through the too narrow outlet. Made selfish by fear,
and in the blind instinct of self-preservation, they stifled each other
against the walls, crushed each other underfoot, and struck blindly
with their knives, in order to hew themselves a passage through the
human barrier that checked them.
Fear, when self-preservation is uppermost, makes man more cruel and
cowardly than the wild beasts. That hideous egotism, which lurks at
the bottom of the human heart, starts up when its bonds are suddenly
broken. Man has then neither parents nor friends; he is deaf to every
prayer; and, shutting his eyes, plunges forward with the blind and
stupid ferocity of the maddened bull.
Blood soon flowed in torrents, and the victims increased in number,
while the fury grew no less; nor did the assailed attempt to defend
themselves.
At last the barrier gave way, and the wretches rushed out of doors,
flying straight on, without knowing whither, in the sole thought of
escaping from the butchery.
At this moment the corporal entered the room. A lamentable spectacle
met his eyes: the floor was strewn with dead bodies, and wounded men
weltering in their blood.
But he could not restrain a cry of horror when his eyes fell on Don
Torribio. The lieutenant was tying the head of Don Pablo, which he had
hacked off with his sword, to the long tresses of the fainting Clarita.
The officer had been slightly wounded by the girl in the hip and arm,
and blood was flowing from his garments.
"There," said he, having finished to his satisfaction the knot that
bound Clarita's tresses to the long locks of the _arriero;_ "since she
loves him so dearly, when she comes to herself she can admire him at
leisure, he is all her own now; no one will take him from her."
Then he looked for a time at the pale and fainting girl, with an
expression of lust impossible to describe.
"Pooh!" said he, with a shrug of the shoulders; "Why should I? Let us
wait till she opens her eyes. I shall have plenty of time to make love
to her; and I want to enjoy her surprise when she wakes up."
And without another look at his victims, he set himself to help his
soldiers in the massacre.
The first step he took, he encountered Luco.
"Halloa!" cried he; "where have you been, while we have been cutting
up the _salvajes unitarios?_ God take me! Here you come quietly; your
sword in the sheath, and not a drop of blood on your clothes! What is
the meaning of this conduct, comrade? Are you turned traitor, too, by
chance?"
At this accusation the corporal feigned immense indignation. He
frowned, bit his lip, and drew his sword, which he brandished
menacingly.
"What words are those, lieutenant?" cried he. "Do you address such
an insult to me? Do you call me, the most devoted partisan of our
well-beloved General Rosas, a _salvaje unitario? ¡Vive Dios!_"
"Come, come; calm yourself," answered the lieutenant, who, like all men
of his calibre, was as cowardly as he was cruel, and was intimidated by
the pretended anger of the corporal; "I did not mean to insult you! I
know you are to be trusted."
"It is well you say so," replied Luco; "for I have no mind to listen
patiently to unjust reproach."
"Lose no more time in talking," said a soldier, interfering; "_¡rayo de
Dios!_ I have a capital idea."
"What is it?" asked Don Torribio. "Out with it, Eusebio, or it will
blow you up."
The soldier laughed.
"This old hovel," said he, "is full of forage. Let us set fire to it,
and roast in the flames all the _salvajes unitarios_ who are here."
"_¡Vive Dios!_" cried Don Torribio, in high glee; "that is a capital
idea. We will set about it at once. The general will be pleased enough
when he knows we have rid him so expeditiously of a harbour for
his enemies. Two of you arrange the straw properly, while we mount
and chase those rascals back here. Not a soul of these _malvados_
(malicious rogues) shall escape the punishment he richly deserves."
The lieutenant then signed to the soldiers to leave.
"I," said Luco, "will keep the door, so that no one inside can come
out."
"That will do, my good fellow," answered Don Torribio. "Ah!" he added
suddenly, as his eye fell on the poor girl extended on the floor, with
the head of him she loved tied to her tresses; "here Eusebio! do not
forget to place two or three bundles of straw under that sweet child.
The dirty floor is a hard couch for her, and I want her to sleep
sweetly."
He left the room, grinning like a demon.
He had scarcely got outside, before the corporal, without uttering a
word, raised his sword, and, with one blow, cleft Eusebio to the chine.
The wretch fell without a cry, like an ox that is slaughtered.
The second soldier who was present exhibited no signs of emotion.
"That was a pretty blow, Luco," said he, twisting his long gray
moustache; "but are you not a little too precipitate?"
The corporal made him a sign to be silent, and, peering out of doors,
listened attentively. A cry, low as the softest breath of the wind, met
his ear.
"No Muñoz," he answered, "I am not too hasty; for there is the signal."
Then, putting the first finger of each hand into his mouth, he gave a
whistle, so sharp and prolonged, that those present crouched against
the walls, and trembled with fear, not knowing what new evil this
portentous signal might bring upon them.
"_¡Sangre de Cristo!_" cried Luco, addressing the terrified _arrieros_,
crouching on the floor, "Are you going to stay here and be massacred
like stupid ostriches? Take courage _caray!_ seize your weapons, and
range yourselves by the side of those who have come to save you!"
The poor devils shook their heads in despair. Terror had deprived
them of all energy, and they were incapable of organizing the least
resistance.
The shouting of the soldiery was heard on every side, as they excited
each other in their human chase; and each moment, wretches who had been
hunted up from all corners, rushed in to seek a precarious refuge in
the room whence they had escaped a few minutes previously.
Don Torribio, almost certain that he had driven all his game into the
net, signalled to his soldiers to leave off, and ordered them to enter
the _rancho._
All of a sudden the galloping of several horses was heard; six
cavaliers rode fiercely up, and ranged themselves in battle array
before the door of the house.
The lieutenant started when he saw them, went to his horse, and made as
if he would mount.
"Who are you, _caballeros?_" said he in menacing tones; "And how dare
you dispute my passage?"
"You shall soon know, Don Torribio the Butcher," said a voice, whose
mocking accent made the lieutenant turn pale.