These men are never at a loss about what to do and how to do it. They are well trained in their churches from childhood on. Their churches are filled with paintings and statues representing every possible torture white men, Christians, inquisitors, and bishops could think of. These are the proper paintings and statues for churches in a country in which the most powerful church on earth wanted to demonstrate how deep in subjection all human beings can be kept for centuries if there exists no other aim but the enlargement of the splendor and the riches of the rulers. What meaning has the human soul to that branch of this great church? No follower of this same church in civilized countries ever seems to question the true origin of its grandeur or the way in which the riches of the church were obtained. So it is not the bandits who were to blame. They were doing and thinking only what they had been taught. Instead of being shown the beauty of this religion, they had been shown only the cruelest and the bloodiest and the most repulsive parts of it. These abhorrent parts of the religion were presented as the most important, so as to make it feared and respected not through faith or love, but through sheer terror and the most abominable superstitions. This is why these men were wearing upon their breasts a picture of the Virgin or Saint Joseph, and why they go to church and pray an hour before the statue of San Antonio whenever they are on their way to commit a wholesale murder or a train-assault or a highway hold-up, praying to the statues before and after the deed and begging the saint to protect them in their crime against the shots the victim may fire at them, and to protect them afterwards against the authorities.
5
There was now no urgent occupation for the bandits. They planned to catch the gringo and begin the fun.
Curtin and the other partners had understood what the bandits had been discussing and knew that a fresh attack was to be made. No doubt of that.
One man stood up. He pushed his gun under his ragged short leather coat so that the gringo in the trench should not see that it was ready to be fired, but Curtin, knowing gangster tricks, had seen this move.
The man came closer. All the others rose also and walked slowly to the middle of the camp.
“Listen, you.” The leader with the gilded hat addressed Curtin. “Listen, we’d better come now to a quick understanding. We want to go, because our provisions have given out and we want to be at the market early tomorrow morning. Let me have your gun and the ammunition. I don’t wish to have it for nothing. I want to buy it. Here I have a genuine gold watch with genuine gold chain, made in your own country. That watch with the chain is worth at least two hundred pesos. I’ll exchange this watch for your gun. Good business it is for you. You’d better take it.” He produced the watch and swung it on its chain around his head.
Curtin answered: “You keep your watch and I’ll keep my gun. Whether you go to market or not doesn’t matter to me. But you won’t get my gun; of that I’m sure.”
“Oh, are you? Won’t we get it? You mongrel, you dirty cabron. I’ll show you.” This was spoken by the man nearest the trench. He pointed his gun, still hidden under his coat, at Curtin.
A shot was heard and the man threw up his hand in which he held the gun and shouted: “Holy Mary, Mother of the Lord, estoy herido, I am hit.”
The bandits looked in the direction from which the shot had come. It was not Curtin who had fired. It had come from the opposite corner of the trench, where a faint cloud of blue smoke was still to be seen.
The bandits were so surprised that they found no words to express their amazement. Going backwards, they returned to the bushes. Here they squatted and went on talking. They seemed very much confused. The information obtained in the village must have been incorrect. They had expected to meet here only one occupant of the camp. Now they became suspicious that the police might be here, or soldiers. But on the other hand soldiers would not have a gringo with them. And again, the gringo might have been kept here by the soldiers just to fool the bandits into attacking.
One of the guards by the horses had heard the shot and came up to the camp to ask what had happened. After being informed, he left for his post again. He was told to keep the horses ready for any emergency.
When the discussion had been on for half an hour, the bandits suddenly laughed and rose.
They went once more to the center of the camp. “Hey, senor, you there, you cannot play such tricks on us. We are too smart for that. We know that you had your rifle over in this corner and that by the help of a long string you pulled the trigger from where you are. We know these tricks. We do the same when hunting ducks on the lakes. Don’t try this on us.”
