This was only the beginning. The mestizos were so stunned by what they had just seen that they did not try to run away. Before they had time to come to their senses, the whip swept across their faces. Those who did not drop to the ground ran away, hiding their heads in their arms. Not for an instant did they think of attacking the raging woman. By the time they felt safe enough to go back, dona Maria had cut the bonds of the Spaniard who was tied to the tree and had handed him a knife to free all the Indians that had been faithful to their mistress.
The Indians lost no time getting their horses and lassoing the mestizos trying to escape.
Dona Maria lined them up with the treacherous captain in front.
“Hey, you dirty cabron, chingue tu matrIcula y abuela,” she yelled at him. “What did you say? Didn’t you propose to marry me? And didn’t I tell you that you will be in hell before I would even think of taking you? Hang that goddamned funking cabron and make a good job of it. Let me see how he sticks out his blasphemous tongue. Up with him!”
While he was swinging from the tree, dona Maria shouted at the mutinous mestizos: “And you, you funking pus-covered dogs of swine, it surely would do my sore eyes good to see you all dangling from the branches, too. What the hell shall I do with you? Peel off your stinking leather by tying you to the tails of horses and letting the Indians ride them, and after that hang you, hang all of you? I’ll get a reward from the crown for doing the job for the hangman you escaped. All right, you stinking scoundrels, I’ll show you mercy, as I surely hope to receive mercy from the Most Holy Virgin on my last day. I shall leave a hole by which you may escape. Sooner or later you will run straight into the hangman’s noose anyhow, no worry about that. I won’t spoil his earnings; maybe he has a big family to feed. But make no mistake, if I ever catch any one of you again playing your nasty damned tricks against me, I tell you that you will rather wish you had been tortured by the Holy Inquisition instead of by me, you Sons of Iousy—well, you know your mothers better than I can imagine them. And that’s that. Get to work. Hey, wait a minute. You don’t have to stay here with me. I can do without you. But there will be no wages if you leave. If you wish to stay on I will give each one of you the horse he has been riding, and you may each keep the pistol received from me, and the saddles. And, maybe—I say maybe—a bonus in cash, outside your wages. Now to work! Saddles mended and the mules doctored! Hustle up!”
The men went off quietly.
“Don’t you dare to cut down that hanging devil,” she yelled after two of the gang who wanted to let the corpse down from the tree. “Leave his carcass to the buzzards. His soul is already in hell.”
When the mestizos were all busy about the packs, mending broken saddles, curing the sore backs of the mules, stuffing with grass the pads of the pack_saddles, and cooking their meals, dona Maria called the Spaniard who had been faithful. Whether he would still be loyal to her tomorrow or next week she did not know. He might get it into his head to try it next time for himself, avoiding the mistakes the other had made. He was hardly better than the hanged captain. He had only missed his chance this time.
Dona Maria understood the situation very well. She knew that strong impression upon him. But dona Maria was a woman and he might, just because of that fact, try the same trick again and come out better, knowing her tricks. After all, he had the Indians on his side.
Dona Maria understood the situation very well. She knew that she could not trust him. She had good reasons for trying to conciliate the mestizos by making them gifts they had never expected. It was now the strong point in her diplomacy to create two parties, each hating the other. In this way she could always have one party on her side, playing it against the other. She considered which of the mestizos she would make captain of his group so as to have it under better command. The troop that was on duty during the night guarding the camp against bandits or rebellious Indians could easily overpower her and all the rest of the men, kill them all and make off with the goods. Under such conditions it took the brains of a great leader to bring the transport to its destination.
She called for the captain. “What is your name, hombre?”
“Ruego Padilla, dona Maria, Ruego Padilla, su muy humilde servidor. I am your humble servant, dona Maria, at your very kind command.”
“Bien, don Ruego.” Dona Maria laid a slight stress on the “don.” Ruego was taken in. He and his hanged partner had heretofore never been addressed by dona Maria in any other way than “Hombre, hey!” or “Tu, yen aca!” He felt like a soldier decorated in front of his fellows, who would never amount to anything.
