General from the Jungle Page 10

  General was a much greater commander than even his closest comrades would have believed. It would have been hard to make sufficiently clear to them how brilliant he was in his leadership. He had been, without knowing it himself, born with the gifts and talents of a great general.

  On this occasion he sacrificed his north army in order to win the battle. Without that sacrifice, which, judged superficially, might appear merely ruthless, his whole army would have been destroyed at Santa Cecilia. He had sent Colonel ahead with the north army because he knew that Colonel was the one most capable of keeping the sacrifice as low as possible.

  General had not been able to obtain precise information. Nevertheless, he knew from peons returning from market that the authorities in Hucutsin were fully informed of the approach

  of the rebel army. The remarkable tranquillity that lay over Santa Cecilia gave him the certainty that in that finca something decisive was in preparation. Should he be mistaken, should there be no soldiers in Santa Cecilia or its environs or lying in wait, nothing would be lost. The muchachos would take the finca, divide it up among the peons, equip themselves with fresh provisions, and the advance would continue. General was sure of one thing: that within the next three days a decisive battle must take place, because the Federals and Rurales dared not permit the rebels to capture a whole town. And within the next three days the rebel army would reach one of the two nearest towns of importance. The occupation of a town in which a chief of police had his seat would create such a demoralizing impression on the country that a general revolution could with certainty be expected. The fire of unrest was smoldering everywhere. That was why General had no doubt that a vital battle was impending. Much would be gained if he succeeded by strategic means in forcing the Federals and Rurales sent against him to give battle at a time and place most favorable to his plans.

  In an uncommonly clever manner, he had managed to keep secret the actual number of the rebels. Only the more intelligent muchachos belonging to his staff knew approximately how many they were. The others cared nothing about it and had merely the vaguest idea of the strength of the army.

  At least thirty peons and wandering Indian peasants must have seen the army, and these would probably have reported their observations here and there. But anyone who had encountered or seen the rebels had had no opportunity of seeing more than two companies together at a time. The man who met one troop seldom or never saw a second troop. And if he did meet a second troop, he could not be certain it was not the same troop that he had seen before.

  So it was not only because of the difficult nature of the terrain that General had lately kept his army always marching in three or four groups, it was also in order to conceal their actual numbers.

  Whenever news of the rebels reached the fincas or Hucutsin or Achlumal, mention was made of a hundred or 120 men. Even when the whole army was camped together in one spot, it would have been impossible for a peon chancing to pass near to establish the precise number, for peons and wandering Indians did not walk in and out of the camp. They slunk shyly by the outermost lines of the encampment and were happy if no one did anything to them and they were allowed to go their ways in peace. Besides, it is difficult for peons and Indians to estimate correctly large numbers of people or cattle. As soon as there are more than eighty, their guess becomes extremely inaccurate, and they very quickly begin to talk of many thousands.

  The north army had been sent on such a route that it must inevitably be seen from the finca and remain within sight until it camped. General expected that on the way between Hucutsin and Santa Cecilia patrols would be out quartering the countryside, and these would certainly see the north army.

  The north army was two companies strong and comprised about 160 men.

  General could have made the north army comprise only one company. But that would have been a tactical error. He had to awaken the belief in the patrols and the garrison of the finca that that north army represented the whole rebel strength. He could never have created this impression with sixty or seventy men. In that event, the Rurales would have let the little troop march on and even camp in peace. They would have waited for the main body of the rebels to arrive, and only then would they have attacked, and not a man would have escaped.

  Therefore, General hazarded one quarter of his army and reserved three quarters intact for battle when he considered the juncture favorable for loosing the main attack against the Rurales and Federals. This juncture would come when the enemy believed that they were the unopposed victors of the whole region and had nothing else to do but wait for a representative of the dictator to arrive and hang them with medals and promote all the officers a rank or two higher.

  It is always a good thing for rebels and their leaders to know in advance what will happen to them if they lose a fight. The less mercy they have to expect, the less they have to lose; and since they have nothing to lose, they are therefore better fighters than the uniformed sycophants of the dictatorship. These creatures have the posts and petty positions that best correspond to their mercenary souls. Of higher ambition they possess none. Their ideas are realized. What more can a victorious fight offer them? Nothing that they do not already possess.

  Nevertheless, there was a real, hard fight. Three Federals, four Rurales, and three finqueros had lost their lives, and nine men had been wounded, before the garrison with twenty prisoners at the ends of their lassos marched back in triumph between the wide-open gate of the finca. About a hundred muchachos of the north army lay dead, strewn over the field of battle.

  The night was already far advanced when Colonel, with the tiny group that survived, reached the camp of the central army and reported to General.

  He and the muchachos whom he brought back with him were bleeding from numerous wounds. One man lacked a hand, another a forearm. There was not one among these muchachos who could show less than four wounds from shots or sabers on his body. Six of the muchachos were carried in on the shoulders of their wounded comrades. Five had died on the way back because they had been so badly wounded that they either bled to death or their lungs ceased to work.

  Not one had a shirt left. Their brown-and-white cotton trousers were tattered. Every rag of material they were wearing had been used to bind or stanch the wounds of themselves and their companions.

  Willing muchachos hurried to refresh the survivors with coffee and beans, to wash their wounds and bandage them.

  “That was a charming little party,” panted Colonel, squatting on the ground. “I’m damned thin, and I have the feeling that in ten minutes I’ll vanish, I’ve lost so much juice. I’d never have believed I could have made it here. We were sitting quite happy and cozy in our camp. All tired as dogs after a tiger hunt. Hell and damnation, I knew that something was in the air, for I’d seen the patrol, but I thought, mule that I was, that they hadn’t seen us.”

  “As a soldier, and particularly as a colonel, never believe anything, but assume that your opponent is at least as clever and probably cleverer than you are.” General laughed as he interjected this.

  “And because I suspected something, and because I know you, General, and had a pretty good idea of why you sent me with the army to that particular spot, I was damned careful. I had four sentries out. But before they could report, there was the goddamned gang already on top of us. And what a shame you didn’t see it! You’d all of you have learned something from that. They were at least 250 strong. All mounted on fresh horses. Two bullet sprayers were on the ground. I don’t know how they managed that so quickly. They must already have had the machine guns in their arms as they rode against us. The disgraceful thing was that they rushed us in daytime, in broad afternoon. That we’ve been able to get back here with even thirty men, how we’ve done that, I simply don’t know. And that we actually managed to slaughter ten or twelve or whatever number of them, well—for all I know Saint Peter did it himself. There was no escaping in any direction. In a flash they were all around us like a wall, and three men deep behind
the wall. And then they let loose at us. With sabers, with rifles, and with the hoofs of their horses. And the balazos! The bullets! Oh, dear Virgin of Guadalupe, they buzzed among us as if we’d stirred up a swarm of bees. And then they started to yell: ‘Now we’ve got you at last, you damned, stinking, lousy swine. You want to have a revolution! Shout Tierra y Libertad! We’ll give you revolution and Tierra y Libertad! Hijos de putas, chingados por puercos, you’ll soon learn what it’s like to start a rebellion! You’ll be quartered, you cabrones, and flogged at the horse’s tail, you filthy, stinking, lousy sons of bitches.’ And then it was just all hell—crick, crack, plunk, plonk, smash, left and right, up and down, and the muchachos falling all over the place, skulls split down to the nose, whole arms mown off with the shoulder, sabers rammed through and through, and added to all that each man getting thirty or forty splatters of dum-dum bullets at once in his guts. I tell you, hombres, if you hadn’t seen it, you wouldn’t believe it. We managed to loose off a few machine-gun bursts and get in two or three dozen machete cuts, and where they fell they’re still lying, I can tell you. But what can you do when you’re squatting on your backsides with your men and thinking all’s right with the world, and in the same second 250 men on horseback hurl themselves at you?”

  “What have you done with the machine gun, Colonel?” asked General.

  “Don’t ask me, hombre. I’m happy still to have my head.”

  “That wouldn’t have been a great loss, for it’s not worth much if you let yourself be trounced like that.”

  “You can talk. I’d like to see whether you could have got away with thirty men even.”

  “And how many rifles and revolvers have you brought with you?”

  “Two rifles and one revolver—mine, which I have here, but the bullets have all been fired.”

  “Well, muchachos, in the next few days we’ve at least got plenty to do,” said General, and grinned contentedly. “The machine gun, the rifles, and the revolvers must be taken back again, or our friendship won’t last long.”

  “The machine gun and the rifles?” Colonel smiled. And his broad grin may have caused the blood running down from his skull in two thick streams to flow over his cheeks and into his mouth. He spat it out, drank a hefty draught of hot coffee to change the taste, and then said, “You’re thinking of the machine gun and the rifles, compañero? Leave them where they are. You can’t use them any more. But I’ve seen two damned beautiful new machine guns and more than a hundred dazzling new repeating rifles with magazines, and the other things I’ve seen, about a hundred steel-blue Colts and automatics. Oh! They’re something like revolvers! I only got the two cuts on my head because I was watching those things so lovingly instead of firing off my own bullets quickly enough. And I swear to you that if you don’t do something about getting those things, we thirty, those of us remaining, will go out and get them alone. I must have those machine guns, rifles, and revolvers, and if I can’t have them, my mucking life isn’t worth a damn.”

  “Don’t get so excited, Colonel,” said Celso. “We’ll get them all right. They’ve cost us 120 of our brothers, but the fun will be paid for. We’re no longer in the monterías where they gave us fun and we were never able to repay them. Now we’ll pay and pay, and we won’t be any longer indebted for what they’ve given us.”

  “Santos en ciel!” shouted Matias. “When I think of what they’ve got for us in their shop there, the juice runs out of my nose and mouth like pure, smooth noodle soup. We must have that hardware store, and then we shall be able to equip half our army, and then we’ll clear up the country once and for all. Life’s wonderful. But if only it lasts until we’ve lit a fire under the asses of the whole tribe of tyrants and tickled them up so they won’t rest in peace again for a hundred years.”

  “Shut your trap,” shouted Fidel at him. “We’ve got campaign plans to make here.”

  “I’m allowed to say what I think,” Matias defended himself.

  “Of course, muy cierto,” said General. “Anyone can speak here. But Colonel still has first turn.” He now turned again to Lucio: “What way did you take back with your bleeding horde? I mean back here? Not the direct route?”

  “Do you think I’m such a mule? That would have been fine, if we’d betrayed where our army was squatting. Those miserable cabrones don’t even know that thirty of us are still surviving. They think they mowed us all down, and that all of us who remain alive are now their prisoners and have been marched back to the patio of the finca to provide a jolly evening for those uniformed crawlers.”

  “Los prisioneros, los pobres! The poor prisoners!” said Andreu, with a deep sigh.

  “Yes, the poor prisoners will be wishing now they were lying dead and mangled on the field,” added General. “They’ll make them dance now. Hell, those who escaped being captured can thank all their saints. And there’s nothing we can do. We must wait till we’re ready and those swine have had their fling. Damned hard as it is, we mustn’t think of that now. Well, Colonel, how did you get back here?”

  “Those of us who escaped being cut into mincemeat weren’t all together in one mob. Of course not. While we were on the march there, I told everyone that if we were attacked and had to retreat, no one was to take the direct route back to headquarters, in order not to betray its whereabouts. And not one did. Not even in the worst danger. When we saw that we’d fought enough and couldn’t do any more, then those who were in the middle of it all and couldn’t escape otherwise flopped down among the fallen. They all had enough blood on their hides to make them look ten times more dead than normal. Others crept away into the thick bush to the west, in the opposite direction from this camp. The grass on the plain around here is high now. Then, once at a sufficient distance from the dust-up, it was difficult for the soldiers to see where we were hiding. I can tell you we crawled lower and stealthier than the best snake could. Besides, they had their hands full with the lassoing of those they wanted to capture alive. So at last we were able to squeeze ourselves out like maggots. In the beginning, of course, we were far more than thirty trying to make a getaway. And the prisoners they were able to take they caught from among those who were still alive and trying to crawl off but who couldn’t transform themselves quickly enough into worms, as we were able to do. Meanwhile, darkness soon fell. Thank God for still allowing the world to grow dark now and again. And so, when it was night, the cabrones, howling with pleasure, departed with their prisoners. We then made a wide detour, twice crossing the river down below, right to the north—and here we are.”

  “Yes, here we are,” said General. “But not here to stay. Back into the bush.” He immediately gave orders to break camp and march back until all were at least two miles inside the bush and sufficiently hidden by the hills to be invisible to any watchers from the finca. He sent a messenger to the south army, instructing them also to retreat into the bush, but to remain sufficiently far to the south to be able to command the southern flank.

  The victors, now reassembled in the finca, were fully convinced that they had destroyed all the rebels who had emerged from the jungle. It was just possible, so they said to one another, that perhaps ten or fifteen might have escaped, but these would be quite harmless and in a few days would be rounded up by the patrols and shot. In any case, the rebellion, at least in this state and region where the masters of estates ruled like kings of olden times, had been crushed, and undoubtedly for good, in view of that mass slaughter of the Indian mutineers. Others, particularly the peons, were now unlikely to entertain any further ideas of striking or rebelling for several decades. And in order to make sure that this actually was the case, they had had the good fortune to bring in alive enough of those stinking Indian swine to demonstrate in the presence of the assembled peon families what happens to rebels and such as dare to open their mouths against their masters.

  The dictatorship and the feudal lords sat once more securely in their old saddle.

  “Firm action is all that’s needed, caballeros,”
said the colonel commanding the Federals. Although the Federals and the Rurales combined were only 120 strong, nevertheless a colonel with experience of rebellions had been put in charge. Since all the finqueros of the region, together with their major-domos and other vassals, were under the command of the colonel, this officer had no cause for complaining about the size of the force he led.

  “Firm action, gentlemen. That is the only effective means for dealing with rebellions, strikes, mutinies, and other such madness,” the colonel continued in his exposition to the finqueros. “I promise you, caballeros, that as long as I’m here and have any say, this state will remain free from every form of insubordination against our Caudillo. If unrest is showing its face in the north and west of the Republic, as well as in the sugar regions, that means little as long as we hold the south securely in our hands, so as to be able to push forward from here should the necessity arise. In confidence, gentlemen, I can tell you that at the moment things don’t look too good in those parts of the country. But that is between ourselves. However, we’ll overcome it and destroy these gangs; and then we’ll show them who are the real masters in the land. Fine old tradition, law, order, tranquillity, and decency, that’s what we’re defending. Salud, caballeros, let us raise our glasses to our beloved Chief of State, El Caudillo, the irreplaceable leader and ruler of our glorious Republic! Viva El Caudillo!”

  The finqueros and the officers of the Federals and Rurales were all sitting around a long, rough table that had been set up on the veranda of the mansion. This veranda, supported by pillars, ran the length of the building and was open on the side facing the great patio of the finca. Indeed, it was more of a portico and, as in all houses in the American tropics, was used as a living room by day, where meals were taken, where leisure hours were passed in hammocks, and where the women and girls pursued their sewing and other domestic occupations.