The Purple Land: Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Before it had been long dark, we had crossed the range and into the
department of Minas. Nothing happened till towards midnight, when our
horses began to be greatly distressed. My companions hoped to reach
before morning an _estancia_, still many leagues distant, where
they were known and would be allowed to lie in concealment for a few
days till the storm blew over; for usually shortly after an outbreak
has been put down an _indulto_, or proclamation of pardon, is
issued, after which it is safe for all those who have taken arms against
the constituted government to return to their homes. For the time we
were, of course, outlaws, and liable to have our throats cut at any
moment. Our poor horses at last became incapable even of a trot, and,
dismounting, we walked on, leading them by the bridles.
About midnight we approached a watercourse, the upper part of the Rio
Barriga Negra--Black Belly River--and on coming near it the tinkling
of a bell attracted our attention. It is the usual thing for every man
in the Banda Orient�l to have one mare, called _madrina_, in his
_tropilla_, or herd of geldings; the _madrina_ always carries
a bell attached to her neck, and at night her forefeet are usually
hobbled to prevent her wandering far from home; for the horses are
always very much attached to her and will not leave her.
After listening for a few moments, we concluded that the sound came
from the bell of a _madrina_, and that her forefeet were bound,
for the tinkle came in violent jerks, as from an animal laboriously
hopping along. Proceeding to the spot, we found a _tropilla_ of
eleven or twelve dun-coloured horses feeding near the river. Driving
them very gently towards the bank, where a sharp bend in the stream
enabled us to corner them, we set to work catching fresh horses.
Fortunately they were not very shy of strangers, and after we had
caught and secured the _madrina_, they gathered whinnying round
her, and we were not very long in selecting the five best-looking duns
in the herd.
"My friends, I call this stealing," I said, though at that very moment
I was engaged in hastily transferring my saddle to the animal I had
secured.
"That is very interesting information," said one of my comrades.
"A stolen horse will always carry you well," said another.
"If you cannot steal a horse without compunction, you have not been
properly brought up," cried the third.
"In the Banda Orient�l," said the fourth, "you are not looked upon as
an honest man unless you steal."
We then crossed the river and broke into a swift gallop, which we kept
up till morning, reaching our destination a little while before sunrise.
There was here a fine plantation of trees not far from the house,
surrounded by a deep ditch and a cactus hedge, and after we had taken
_mat�_ and then breakfast at the house, where the people received
us very kindly, we proceeded to conceal our horses and ourselves in
the plantation. We found a comfortable little grassy hollow, partly
shaded with the surrounding trees, and here we spread our rugs, and,
fatigued with our exertions, soon dropped into a deep sleep which
lasted pretty well all day. It was a pleasant day for me, for I had
waking intervals during which I experienced that sensation of absolute
rest of mind and body which is so exceedingly sweet after a long period
of toil and anxiety. During my waking intervals I smoked cigarettes
and listened to the querulous pipings of a flock of young black-headed
siskins flying about from tree to tree after their parents and asking
to be fed.
Occasionally the long, clear cry of the venteveo, a lemon-coloured
bird with black head and long beak like a kingfisher, rang through the
foliage; or a flock of pecho amarillos, olive-brown birds with bright
yellow vests, would visit the trees and utter their confused chorus
of gay notes.
I did not think very much about Santa Coloma. Probably he had escaped,
and was once more a wanderer disguised in the humble garments of a
peasant; but that would be no new experience to him. The bitter bread
of expatriation had apparently been his usual food, and his periodical
descents upon the country had so far always ended in disaster: he had
still an object to live for. But when I remembered Dolores lamenting
her lost cause and vanished peace of mind, then, in spite of the bright
sunshine flecking the grass, the soft, warm wind fanning my face
andwhispering in the foliage overhead, and the merry-throated birds that
came to visit me, a pang was in my heart, and tears came to my eyes.
When evening came we were all wide awake, and sat till a very late
hour round the fire we had made in the hollow, sipping _mat�_ and
conversing. We were all in a talkative mood that evening, and after
the ordinary subjects of Banda Orient�l conversation had been exhausted,
we drifted into matters extraordinary--wild creatures of strange
appearance and habits, apparitions, and marvellous adventures.
"The manner in which the lampalagua captures its prey is very curious,"
said one of the company, named Rivarola, a stout man with an immense,
fierce-looking black beard and moustache, but who was very mild-eyed
and had a gentle, cooing voice.
We had all heard of the lampalagua, a species of boa found in these
countries, with a very thick body and extremely sluggish in its motions.
It preys on the larger rodents, and captures them, I believe, by
following them into their burrows, where they cannot escape from its
jaws by running.
"I will tell you what I once witnessed, for I have never seen a stranger
thing," continued Rivarola. "Riding one day through a forest I saw
some distance before me a fox sitting on the grass watching my approach.
Suddenly I saw it spring high up into the air, uttering a great scream
of terror, then fall back upon the earth, where it lay for some time
growling, struggling, and biting as if engaged in deadly conflict
withsome visible enemy. Presently it began to move away through the wood,
but very slowly and still frantically struggling. It seemed to be
getting exhausted, its tail dragged, the mouth foamed, and the tongue
hung out, while it still moved on as if drawn by an unseen cord. I
followed, going very close to it, but it took no notice of me. Sometimes
it dug its claws into the ground or seized a twig or stalk with its
teeth, and it would then remain resting for a few moments till the
twig gave away, when it would roll over many times on the ground,
loudly yelping, but still dragged onwards. Presently I saw in the
direction we were going a huge serpent, thick as a man's thigh, its
head lifted high above the grass, and motionless as a serpent of stone.
Its cavernous, blood-red mouth was gaping wide, and its eyes were fixed
on the struggling fox. When about twenty yards from the serpent the
fox began moving very rapidly over the ground, its struggles growing
feebler every moment, until it seemed to fly through the air, and in
an instant was in the serpent's mouth. Then the reptile dropped its
head and began slowly swallowing its prey."
"And you actually witnessed this yourself?" said I.
"With these eyes," he returned, indicating the orbs in question by
pointing at them with the tube of the _mat�_-cup he held in his
hand. "This was the only occasion on which I have actually seen the
lampalagua take its prey, but its manner of doing it is well known to
everyone from hearsay. You see, it draws an animal towards it by means
of its power of suction. Sometimes, when the animal attacked is very
strong or very far off--say two thousand yards--the serpent becomes
so inflated with the quantity of air inhaled while drawing the victim
towards it----"
"That it bursts?" I suggested.
"That it is obliged to stop drawing to blow the wind out. When this
happens, the animal, finding itself released from the drawing force,
instantly sets off at full speed. Vain effort! The serpent has no
sooner discharged the accumulated wind with a report like a cannon----"
"No, no, like a musket! I have heard it myself," interrupted Blas Aria,
one of the listeners.
"Like a musket, than it once more brings its power of suction to bear;
and in this manner the contest continues until the victim is finally
drawn into the monster's jaws. It is well known that the lampalagua
is the strongest of all God's creatures, and that if a man, stripped
to the skin, engages one, and conquers it by sheer muscular strength,
the serpent's power goes into him, after which he is invincible."
I laughed at this fable, and was severely rebuked for my levity.
"I will tell you the strangest thing that ever befell me," said Blas
Aria. "I happened to be travelling alone--for reasons--on the northern
frontier. I crossed the River Yaguaron into Brazilian territory, and
for a whole day rode through a great marshy plain, where the reeds
were dead and yellow, and the water shrunk into muddy pools. It was
a place to make a man grow weary of life. When the sun was going down,
and I began to despair of getting to the end of this desolation, I
discovered a low hovel made of mud and thatched with rushes. It was
about fifteen yards long, with only one small door, and seemed to be
uninhabited, for no person answered me when I rode round it shouting
aloud. I heard a grunting and squealing within, and by and by a sow,
followed by a litter of young pigs, came out, looked at me, then went
in again. I would have ridden on, but my horses were tired; besides,
a great storm with thunder and lightning was coming up, and no other
shelter appeared in sight. I therefore unsaddled, loosed my horses to
feed, and took my gear into the hovel. The room I entered was so small
that the sow and her young occupied all the floor; there was, however,
another room, and, opening the door, which was closed, I went into it,
and found that it was very much larger than the first; also, that it
contained a dirty bed made of skins in one corner, while on the floor
was a heap of ashes and a black pot. There was nothing else except old
bones, sticks, and other rubbish littering the floor. Afraid of being
caught unawares by the owner of this foul den, and finding nothing to
eat in it, I returned to the first room, turned the pigs out of doors,
and sat down on my saddle to wait. It was beginning to get dark when
a woman, bringing in a bundle of sticks, suddenly appeared at the door.
Never, sirs, have I beheld a fouler, more hideous object than this
person. Her face was hard, dark, and rough like the bark of the
_�andubuy_ tree, while her hair, which covered her head and
shoulders in a tangled mass, was of a dry, earthy colour. Her body was
thick and long, yet she looked like a dwarf, for she scarcely had any
legs, only enormous knees and feet; and her garments were old ragged
horse-rugs tied round her body with thongs of hide. She stared at me
out of a pair of small black rat eyes, then, setting down her bundle,
asked me what I wanted. I told her I was a tired traveller, and wanted
food and shelter. 'Shelter you can have: food there is none,' she said;
then, taking up her sticks, she passed to the inner room and secured
it with a bolt on the inside. She had not inspired me with love, and
there was little danger of my attempting to intrude on her there. It
was a black, stormy night, and very soon the rain began to fall in
torrents. Several times the sow, with her young pigs loudly squealing,
came in for shelter, and I was forced to get up and beat them out with
my whip. At length, through the mud partition separating the two rooms,
I heard the crackling of a fire which the vile woman was lighting;
and, before long, through the chinks came the savoury smell of roast
meat. That surprised me greatly, for I had searched the room and failed
to find anything to eat in it. I concluded that she had brought in the
meat under her garments, but where she had got it was a mystery. At
length I began to doze. There were many sounds in my ear as of thunder
and wind, the pigs grunting at the door, and the crackling of the fire
in the hag's room. But by and by other sounds seemed to mingle with
these--voices of several persons talking, laughing, and singing. At
length I became wide awake, and found that these voices proceeded from
the next room. Some person was playing a guitar and singing, then
others were loudly talking and laughing. I tried to peep through the
cracks in the door and partition, but could not see through them. High
up in the middle of the wall there was one large crack through which
I was sure the interior could be seen, so much red firelight streamed
through it. I placed my saddle against the partition, and all my rugs
folded small, one above the other, until I had heaped them as high as
my knees. Standing on my toes on this pile, and carefully clinging to
the wall with my finger-nails, I managed to bring my eyes to a level
with the crack, and peeped through it. The room inside was brightly
lighted by a big wood fire burning at one end, while on the floor a
large crimson cloak was spread, on which the people I had heard were
sitting with some fruit and bottles of wine before them. There was
the foul hag, looking almost as tall sitting as she had appeared when
standing; she was playing on a guitar and singing a ballad in
Portuguese. Before her on the cloak lay a tall, well-formed negro
woman, wearing only a narrow white cloth round her loins, and broad
silver armlets on her round black arms. She was eating a banana, and
against her knees, which were drawn up, sat a beautiful girl about
fifteen years old, with a dark pale face. She was dressed in white,
her arms were bare, and round her head she wore a gold band keeping
back her black hair, which fell unbound on her back. Before her, on
his knees on the cloak, was an old man with a face brown and wrinkled
as a walnut, and beard white as thistle-down. With one of his hands
he was holding the girl's arm, and with the other offering her a glass
of wine. All this I saw at one glance, and then all of them together
turned their eyes up at the crack as if they knew that someone was
watching them. I started back in alarm, and fell with a crash to the
ground. Then I heard loud screams of laughter, but I dared not attempt
to look in on them again, I took my rugs to the farther side of the
room, and sat down to wait for morning. The talking and laughter
continued for about two hours, then it gradually died away, the light
faded from the chinks, and all was dark and silent. No person came
out; and at last, overcome with drowsiness, I fell asleep. It was day
when I woke. I rose and walked round the hovel, and, finding a crack
in the wall, I peered into the hag's room. It looked just as I had
seen it the day before; there was the pot and pile of ashes, and in
the corner the brutish woman lying asleep in her skins. After that I
got on to my horse and rode away. May I never again have such an
experience as I had that night."
Something was then said about witchcraft by the others, all looking
very solemn.
"You were very hungry and tired that night," I ventured to remark,
"and perhaps after the woman locked her door you went to sleep and
dreamed all that about people eating fruit and playing on the guitar."
"Our horses were tired and we were flying for our lives yesterday,"
returned Blas contemptuously. "Perhaps it made us dream that we caught
five dun horses to carry us."
"When a person is incredulous, it is useless arguing with him," said
Mariano, a small dark grey-haired man. "I will now tell you a strange
adventure I had when I was a young man; but remember I do not put a
blunderbuss to any man's breast to compel him to believe me. For what
is, is; and let him that disbelieves shake his head till he shakes it
off, and it falls to the ground like a cocoanut from the tree.
"After I got married I sold my horses, and, taking all my money,
purchased two ox-carts, intending to make my living by carrying freight.
One cart I drove myself, and to drive the other I hired a boy whom I
called Mula, though that was not the name his godfathers gave him, but
because he was stubborn and sullen as a mule. His mother was a poor
widow, living near me, and when she heard about the ox-carts she came
to me with her son and said, 'Neighbour Mariano, for your mother's
sake, take my son and teach him to earn his bread, for he is a boy
that loves not to do anything.' So I took Mula and paid the widow for
his services after each journey. When there was no freight to be had
I sometimes went to the lagoons to cut rushes, and, loading the carts
with them, we would go about the country to sell the rushes to those
who required them to thatch their houses. Mula loved not this work.
Often when we were all day wading up to our thighs in the water, cutting
the rushes down close to their roots, then carrying them in large
bundles on our shoulders to land, he would cry, complaining bitterly
of his hard lot. Sometimes I thrashed him, for it angered me to see
a poor boy so fastidious: then he would curse me and say that some day
he would have his revenge. 'When I am dead,' he often told me, 'my ghost
will come to haunt and terrify you for all the blows you have given
me.' This always made me laugh.
"At last, one day, while crossing a deep stream, swollen with rains,
my poor Mula fell down from his perch on the shaft and was swept away
by the current into deep water and drowned. Well, sirs, about a year
after that event I was out in search of a couple of strayed oxen when
night overtook me a long distance from home. Between me and my house
there was a range of hills running down to a deep river, so close that
there was only a narrow passage to get through, and for a long distance
there was no other opening. When I reached the pass I fell into a
narrow path with bushes and trees growing on either side; here,
suddenly, the figure of a young man stepped out from the trees and
stood before me. It was all in white--_poncho, chirip�_, drawers,
even its boots, and wore a broad-brimmed straw hat on its head. My
horse stood still trembling; nor was I less frightened, for my hair
rose up on my head like bristles on a pig's back; and the sweat broke
out on my face like raindrops. Not a word said the figure; only
itremained standing still with arms folded on its breast, preventing me
from passing. Then I cried out, 'In Heaven's name, who are you, and
what do you want with Mariano Montes de Oca, that you bar his path?'
At this speech it laughed; then it said, 'What, does my old master not
know me? I am Mula; did I not often tell you that some day I should
return to pay you out for all the thrashings you gave me? Ah, Master
Mariano, you see I have kept my word!' Then it began to laugh again.
'May ten thousand curses light on your head!' I shouted. 'If you wish
for my life, Mula, take it and be for ever damned; or else let me pass,
and go back to Satan, your master, and tell him from me to keep a
stricter watch on your movements; for why should the stench of purgatory
be brought to my nostrils before my time! And now, hateful ghost, what
more have you got to say to me?' At this speech the ghost shouted with
laughter, slapping its thighs, and doubling itself up with mirth. At
last, when it was able to speak, it said, 'Enough of this fooling,
Mariano. I did not intend frightening you so much; and it is no great
matter if I have laughed a little at you now, for you have often made
me cry. I stopped you because I had something important to say. Go to
my mother and tell her you have seen and spoken with me; tell her to
pay for another mass for my soul's repose, for after that I shall be
out of purgatory. If she has no money lend her a few dollars for the
mass, and I will repay you, old man, in another world.'
"This it said and vanished. I lifted my whip, but needed not to strike
my horse, for not a bird that has wings could fly faster than he now
flew with me on his back. No path was before me, nor did I know where
we were going. Through rushes and through thickets, over burrows of
wild animals, stones, rivers, marshes, we flew as if all the devils
that are on the earth and under it were at our heels; and when the
horse stopped it was at my own door. I stayed not to unsaddle him,
but, cutting the surcingle with my knife, left him to shake the saddle
off; then with the bridle I hammered on the door, shouting to my wife
to open. I heard her fumbling for the tinder-box. 'For the love of
Heaven, woman, strike no light,' I cried. '_Santa Barbara bendita_!
have you seen a ghost?' she exclaimed, opening to me. 'Yes,' I replied,
rushing in and bolting the door, 'and had you struck a light you would
now have been a widow.'
"For thus it is, sirs, the man who after seeing a ghost is confronted
with a light immediately drops down dead."
I made no sceptical remarks, and did not even shake my head. The
circumstances of the encounter were described by Mariano with such
graphic power and minuteness that it was impossible not to believe his
story. Yet some things in it afterwards struck me as somewhat absurd;
that straw hat, for instance, and it also seemed strange that a person
of Mula's disposition should have been so much improved in temper by
his sojourn in a warmer place.
"Talking of ghosts----" said Laralde, the other man--but proceeded no
further, for I interrupted him. Laralde was a short, broad-shouldered
man, with bow legs and bushy grey whiskers; he was called by his
familiars Lechuza (owl) on account of his immense, round, tawny-coloured
eyes, which had a tremendous staring power in them.
I thought we had had enough of the supernatural by this time.
"My friend," I said, "pardon me for interrupting you; but there will
be no sleep for us to-night if we have any more stories about spirits
from the other world."
"Talking of ghosts----" resumed Lechuza, without noticing my remark,
and this nettled me; so I cut in once more:
"I protest that we have heard quite enough about them," I said. "This
conversation was only to be about rare and curious things. Now, visitors
from the other world are very common. I put it to you, my friends--have
you not all seen more ghosts than lampalaguas drawing foxes with their
breath?"
"I have seen that once only," said Rivarola gravely. "I have often
seen ghosts."
The others also confessed to having seen more than one ghost apiece.
Lechuza sat inattentive, smoking his cigarette, and when we had all
done speaking began again.
"Talking of ghosts----"
Nobody interrupted him this time, though he seemed to expect it, for
he made a long, deliberate pause.
"Talking of ghosts," he repeated, staring around him triumphantly, "I
once had an encounter with a strange being that was _not_ a ghost.
I was a young man then--young and full of the fire, strength, and
courage of youth--for what I am now going to relate happened over
twenty years ago. I had been playing cards at a friend's house, and
left it at midnight to ride to my father's house, a distance of five
leagues. I had quarrelled that evening and left a loser, burning with
anger against the man who had cheated and insulted me, and with whom
I was not allowed to fight. Vowing vengeance on him, I rode away at
a fast gallop; the night being serene, and almost as light as day, for
the moon was at its full. Suddenly I saw before me a huge man sitting
on a white horse, which stood perfectly motionless directly in my path.
I dashed on till I came near him, then shouted aloud. 'Out of my path,
friend, lest I ride over you'; for I was still raging in my heart.
"Seeing that he took no notice of my words, I dug my spurs into my
horse and hurled myself against him; then at the very moment my horse
struck his with a tremendous shock, I brought down my iron whip-handle
with all the force that was in me upon his head. The blow rang as if
I had struck upon an anvil, while at the same moment he, without
swerving, clutched my cloak with both hands. I could feel that they
were bony, hard hands, armed with long, crooked, sharp talons like an
eagle's, which pierced through my cloak into my flesh. Dropping my
whip, I seized him by the throat, which seemed scaly and hard, between
my hands, and thus, locked together in a desperate struggle, we swayed
this way and that, each trying to drag the other from his seat till
we came down together with a crash upon the earth. In a moment we were
disengaged and on our feet. Quick as lightning flashed out his long,
sharp weapon, and, finding I was too late to draw mine, I hurled
myselfagainst him, seizing his armed hand in both mine before he could
strike.
"For a few moments he stood still, glaring at me out of a pair of eyes
that shone like burning coals; then, mad with rage, he flung me off
my feet and whirled me round and round like a ball in a sling, and
finally cast me from him to a distance of a hundred yards, so great
was his strength. I was launched with tremendous force into the middle
of some thorny bushes, but had no sooner recovered from the shock than
out I burst with a yell of rage and charged him again. For, you will
hardly believe it, sirs, by some strange chance I had carried away his
weapon, firmly grasped in my hands. It was a heavy two-edged dagger,
sharp as a needle, and while I grasped the hilt I felt the strength
and fury of a thousand fighting-men in me. As I advanced he retreated
before me, until, seizing the topmost boughs of a great thorny bush,
he swung his body to one side and wrenched it out of the earth by the
roots. Swinging the bush with the rapidity of a whirlwind round his
head, he advanced against me and dealt a blow that would have crushed
me had it descended on me; but it fell too far, for I had dodged under
it to close with him, and delivered a stab with such power that the
long weapon was buried to its hilt in his bosom. He uttered a deafening
yell, and at the same moment a torrent of blood spouted forth, scalding
my face like boiling water, and drenching my clothes through to the
skin. For a moment I was blinded; but when I had dashed the blood from
my eyes and looked round he had vanished, horse and all.
"Then, mounting my horse, I rode home and told everyone what had
happened, showing the knife, which I still carried in my hand. Next
day all the neighbours gathered at my house, and we rode in company
to the spot where the fight had taken place. There we found the bush
torn up by the roots, and all the earth about it ploughed up where we
had fought. The ground was also dyed with blood for several yards
round, and where it had fallen the grass was withered up to the roots,
as if scorched with fire. We also picked up a cluster of hairs--long,
wiry, crooked hairs, barbed at the ends like fish-hooks; also three
or four scales like fish-scales, only rougher, and as large as doubloons.
The spot where the fight took place is now called _La Ca�ada del
Diablo,_ and I have heard that since that day the devil has never
appeared corporeally to fight any man in the Banda Orient�l."
Lechuza's narrative gave great satisfaction. I said nothing, feeling
half stupid with amazement, for the man apparently told it in the full
conviction that it was true, while the other listeners appeared to
accept every word of it with the most implicit faith. I began to feel
very melancholy, for evidently they expected something from me now,
and what to tell them I knew not. It went against my conscience to be
the only liar amongst these exceedingly veracious Orientals, and so
I could not think of inventing anything.
"My friends," I began at length, "I am only a young man; also a native
of a country where marvellous things do not often happen, so that I
can tell you nothing to equal in interest the stories I have heard.
I can only relate a little incident which happened to me in my own
country before I left it. It is trivial, perhaps, but will lead me to
tell you something about London--that great city you have all heard
of."
"Yes, we have heard of London; it is in England, I believe. Tell us
your story about London," said Blas encouragingly.
"I was very young--only fourteen years old," I continued, flattering
myself that my modest introduction had not been ineffective, "when one
evening I came to London from my home. It was in January, in the middle
of winter, and the whole country was white with snow."
"Pardon me, Captain," said Blas, "but you have got the cucumber by the
wrong end. We say that January is in summer."
"Not in my country, where the seasons are reversed," I said.
"When I rose next morning it was dark as night, for a black fog had
fallen upon the city."
"A black fog!" exclaimed Lechuza.
"Yes, a black fog that would last all days and make it darker than
night, for though the lamps were lighted in the streets they gave no
light."
"Demons!" exclaimed Rivarola; "there is no water in the bucket. I must
go to the well for some or we shall have none to drink in the night."
"You might wait till I finish," I said.
"No, no, Captain," he returned. "Go on with your story; we must not
be without water." And, taking up the bucket, he trudged off.
"Finding it was going to be dark all day," I continued, "I determined
to go a little distance away, not out of London, you will understand,
but about three leagues from my hotel to a great hill, where I thought
the fog would not be so dark, and where there is a palace of glass."
"A palace of glass!" repeated Lechuza, with his immense round eyes
fixed sternly on me.
"Yes, a palace of glass--is there anything so wonderful in that?"
"Have you any tobacco in your pouch, Mariano?" said Blas.
"Pardon, Captain, for speaking, but the things you are telling require
a cigarette, and my pouch is empty."
"Very well, sirs, perhaps you will now allow me to proceed," I said,
beginning to feel rather vexed at these constant interruptions. "A
palace of glass large enough to hold all the people in this country."
"The Saints assist us! Your tobacco is dry as ashes, Mariano," exclaimed
Blas.
"That is not strange," said the other, "for I have had it three days
in my pocket. Proceed, Captain. A palace of glass large enough to hold
all the people in the world. And then?"
"No, I shall not proceed," I returned, losing my temper. "It is plain
to see that you do not wish to hear my story. Still, sirs, from motives
of courtesy you might have disguised your want of interest in what I
was about to relate; for I have heard it said that the Orientals are
a polite people."
"There you are saying too much, my friend," broke in Lechuza. "Remember
that we were speaking of actual experiences, not inventing tales of
black fogs and glass palaces and men walking on their heads, and I
know not what other marvels."
"Do you know that what I am telling you is untrue?" I indignantly
asked.
"Surely, friend, you do not consider us such simple persons in the
Banda Orient�l as not to know truth from fable?"
And this from the fellow who had just told us of his tragical encounter
with Apollyon, a yarn which quite put Bunyan's narrative in the shade!
It was useless talking; my irritation gave place to mirth, and,
stretching myself out on the grass, I roared with laughter. The more
I thought of Lechuza's stern rebuke the louder I laughed, until I
yelled with laughter, slapping my thighs and doubling myself up after
the manner of Mariano's hilarious visitor from purgatory. My companions
never smiled. Rivarola came back with the bucket of water, and, after
staring at me for some time, said, "If the tears, which they say always
follow laughter, come in the same measure, then we shall have to sleep
in the wet."
This increased my mirth.
"If the whole country is to be informed of our hiding-place," said
Blas the timid, "we were putting ourselves to an unnecessary trouble
by running away from San Paulo."
Fresh screams of laughter greeted this protest.
"I once knew a man," said Mariano, "who had a most extraordinary laugh;
you could hear it a league away, it was so loud. His name was Aniceto,
but we called him El Burro on account of his laugh, which sounded like
the braying of an ass. Well, sirs, he one day burst out laughing, like
the Captain here, at nothing at all, and fell down dead. You see, the
poor man had aneurism of the heart."
At this I fairly yelled, then, feeling quite exhausted, I looked
apprehensively at Lechuza, for this important member of the quartet
had not yet spoken.
With his immense, unspeakably serious eyes fixed on me, he remarked
quietly, "And this, my friends, is the man who says it is wrong to
steal horses!"
But I was past shrieking now. Even this rich specimen of topsy-turvy
Banda Orient�l morality only evoked a faint gurgling as I rolled about
on the grass, my sides aching, as if I had received a good bruising.
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