At midnight Demetrio Macias ordered the march to be resumed. The town
was five or six miles away; the best plan was to take the soldiers by
surprise, before reveille.
The sky was cloudy, with here and there a star shining. From time to
time a flash of lightning crossed the sky with a red dart, illumining
the far horizon.
Luis Cervantes asked Demetrio whether the success of the attack might
not be better served by procuring a guide or leastways by ascertaining
the topographic conditions of the town and the precise location of the
soldiers' quarters.
"No," Demetrio answered, accompanying his smile with a disdainful
gesture, "we'll simply fall on them when they least expect it; that's
all there is to it, see? We've done it before all right, lots of times!
Haven't you ever seen the squirrels stick their heads out of their
holes when you poured in water? Well, that's how these lousy soldiers
are going to feel. Do you see? They'll be frightened out of their wits
the moment they hear our first shot. Then they'll slink out and stand
as targets for us."
"Suppose the old man we met yesterday lied to us. Suppose there are
fifty soldiers instead of twenty. Who knows but he's a spy sent out by
the Federals!"
"Ha, Tenderfoot, frightened already, eh?" Anastasio Montanez mocked.
"Sure! Handling a rifle and messing about with bandages are two
different things," Pancracio observed.
"Well, that's enough talk, I guess," said Meco. "All we have to do is
fight a dozen frightened rats."
"This fight won't convince our mothers that they gave birth to men or
whatever the hell you like...." Manteca added.
When they reached the outskirts of the town, Venancio walked ahead and
knocked at the door of a hut.
"Where's the soldiers' barracks?" he inquired of a man who came out
barefoot, a ragged serape covering his body.
"Right there, just beyond the Plaza," he answered.
Since nobody knew where the city square was, Venancio made him walk
ahead to show the way. Trembling with fear, the poor devil told them
they were doing him a terrible wrong.
"I'm just a poor day laborer, sir; I've got a wife and a lot of kids."
"What the hell do you think I have, dogs?" Demetrio scowled. "I've got
kids too, see?"
Then he commanded:
"You men keep quiet. Not a sound out of you! And walk down the middle
of the street, single file."
The rectangular church cupola rose above the small houses.
"Here, gentlemen; there's the Plaza beyond the church. Just walk a bit
further and there's the barracks."
He knelt down, then, imploring them to let him go, but Pancracio,
without pausing to reply, struck him across the chest with his rifle
and ordered him to proceed.
"How many soldiers are there?" Luis Cervantes asked.
"I don't want to lie to you, boss, but to tell you the truth, yes, sir,
to tell you God's truth, there's a lot of them, a whole lot of 'em."
Luis Cervantes turned around to stare at Demetrio, who feigned
momentary deafness.
They were soon in the city square.
A loud volley of rifle shots rang out, deafening them. Demetrio's horse
reared, staggered on its hind legs, bent its forelegs, and fell to the
ground, kicking. The Owl uttered a piercing cry and fell from his horse
which rushed madly to the center of the square.
Another volley: the guide threw up his arms and fell on his back
without a sound.
With all haste, Anastasio Montanez helped Demetrio up behind him on his
horse; the others retreated, seeking shelter along the walls of the
houses.
"Hey, men," said a workman sticking his head out of a large door, "go
for 'em through the back of the chapel. They're all in there. Cut back
through this street, then turn to the left; you'll reach an alley. Keep
on going ahead until you hit the chapel."
As he spoke a fresh volley of pistol shots, directed from the
neighboring roofs, fell like a rain about them.
"By God," the man said, "those ain't poisonous spiders; they're only
townsmen scared of their own shadow. Come in here until they stop."
"How many of them are there?" asked Demetrio.
"There were only twelve of them. But last night they were scared out of
their wits so they wired to the town beyond for help. I don't know how
many of them there are now. Even if there are a hell of a lot of them,
it doesn't cut any ice! Most of them aren't soldiers, you know, but
drafted men; if just one of them starts mutinying, the rest will follow
like sheep. My brother was drafted; they've got him there. I'll go
along with you and signal to him; all of them will desert and follow
you. Then we'll only have the officers to deal with! If you want to
give me a gun or something...."
"No more rifles left, brother. But I guess you can put these to some
use," Anastasio Montanez said, passing him two hand grenades.
The officer in command of the Federals was a young coxcomb of a captain
with a waxed mustache and blond hair. As long as he felt uncertain
about the strength of the assailants, he had remained extremely quiet
and prudent; but now that they had driven the rebels back without
allowing them a chance to fire a single shot, he waxed bold and brave.
While the soldiers did not dare put out their heads beyond the pillars
of the building, his own shadow stood against the pale clear dawn,
exhibiting his well-built slender body and his officer's cape bellying
in the breeze.
"Ha, I remember our coup d'etat!"
His military career had consisted of the single adventure when,
together with other students of the Officers' School, he was involved
in the treacherous revolt of Feliz Diaz and Huerta against President
Madero. Whenever the slightest insubordination arose, he invariably
recalled his feat at the Ciudadela.
"Lieutenant Campos," he ordered emphatically, "take a dozen men and
wipe out the bandits hiding there! The curs! They're only brave when it
comes to guzzling meat and robbing a hencoop!"
A workingman appeared at the small door of the spiral staircase,
announcing that the assailants were hidden in a corral where they might
easily be captured. This message came from the citizens keeping watch
on housetops.
"I'll go myself and get it over with!" the officer declared impetuously.
But he soon changed his mind. Before he had reached the door, he
retraced his steps.
"Very likely they are waiting for more men and, of course, it would be
wrong for me to abandon my post. Lieutenant Campos, go there yourself
and capture them dead or alive. We'll shoot them at noon when
everybody's coming out of church. Those bandits will see the example
I'll set around here. But if you can't capture them, Lieutenant, kill
them all. Don't leave a man of them alive, do you understand?"
In high good humor, he began pacing up and down the room, formulating
the official despatch he would send off no later than today.
To His Honor the Minister for War,
General A. Blanquet,
Mexico City.
Sir:
I have the honor to inform your Excellency that on the morning of ... a
rebel army, five hundred strong, commanded by ... attacked this town,
which I am charged to defend. With such speed as the gravity of the
situation called for, I fortified my post in the town. The battle
lasted two hours. Despite the superiority of the enemy in men and
equipment, I was able to defeat and rout them. Their casualties were
twenty killed and a far greater number of wounded, judging from the
trails of blood they left behind them as they retreated. I am pleased
to state there was no casualty on our side. I have the honor to
congratulate Your Excellency upon this new triumph for the Federal
arms. Viva Presidente Huerta! Viva Mexico!
"Well," the young captain mused, "I'll be promoted to major." He
clasped his hands together, jubilant. At this precise moment, a
detonation rang out. His ears buzzed, he--