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Updated: June 19, 2025
All right, then, hand me my gun." Anastasio Montanez rubbed his eyes, stretched out his arms and legs, and stood up lazily. They left the hut. The sky was solid with stars; the moon rose like a sharp scythe. The confused rumor of women crying in fright resounded from the various huts; the men who had been sleeping in the open, also woke up and the rattle of arms echoed over the mountain.
Bullets are marbles to me! And I dare you to contradict me!" "Viva Anastasio Montanez," shouted Manteca. "All right, all right!" said Montanez. "Viva Demetrio Macias, our chief, and long life to God in His heaven and to the Virgin Mary." "Viva Demetrio Macias," they all shouted. They gathered dry brush and wood, built a fire and placed chunks of fresh meat upon the burning coals.
A murmur of incredulity rose from the men, interrupting the stranger. "So that's what you are, eh? One of those damn half-breeds," said Anastasio Montanez. "Why the hell didn't you pump your lead in his brain, Pancracio?" "What's he talking about, anyhow? I can't make head nor tail of it. He says he wants to see Demetrio and that he's got plenty to say to him.
Demetrio pulled out his jeweled gold watch, asking Anastasio Montanez to tell him the time. Anastasio glanced at the watch, then, poking his head out of a small window, gazed at the starry sky. "The Pleiades are pretty low in the west. I guess it won't be long now before daybreak...." Outside the restaurant, the shouts, laughter and song of the drunkards rang through the air.
They were forced to carry him the rest of the way on a makeshift stretcher of leaves and branches. "He's bleeding frightfully," said Anastasio Montanez, tearing off one of his shirt-sleeves and tying it tightly about Demetrio's thigh, a little above the wound. "That's good," said Venancio. "It'll keep him from bleeding and stop the pain." Venancio was a barber.
"We're every bit as good as Medina's crowd!" said a tall, broad-shouldered man with a black beard and bushy eyebrows. "By God, if I don't own a Mauser and a lot of cartridges, if I can't get a pair of trousers and shoes, then my name's not Anastasio Montanez! Look here, Quail, you don't believe it, do you? You ask my partner Demetrio if I haven't half a dozen bullets in me already. Christ!
"It makes me think we are back in the days when the revolution was just beginning, when the bells rang like mad in every town we entered and everybody came out with music, flags, cheers, and fireworks to welcome us," said Anastasio Montanez. "They don't like us no more," Demetrio returned. "Of course. We're crawling back like a dog with its tail between its legs," Quail remarked.
Two men were missing, Serapio the candymaker, and Antonio, who played the cymbals in the Juchipila band. "Maybe they'll join us further on," said Demetrio. The return journey proved moody. Anastasio Montanez alone preserved his equanimity, a kindly expression playing in his sleepy eyes and on his bearded face. Pancracio's harsh, gorillalike profile retained its repulsive immutability.
In the brush and foliage of the sierra, Demetrio Macias and his threescore men slept until the halloo of the horn, blown by Pancracio from the crest of a peak, awakened them. "Time, boys! Look around and see what's what!" Anastasio Montanez said, examining his rifle springs.
"Thank God, a kind soul and tortillas full of beans and chili are never lacking," Anastasio Montanez said with a triumphant belch. The mountaineers would shake calloused hands with the travelers, saying: "God's blessing on you! He will find a way to help you all, never fear. We're going ourselves, starting tomorrow morning.
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