On one side, the Argentines congratulated themselves at having no longer to defend a dangerous and useless post; on the other, the Aucas asked themselves of what good this dearly acquired suburb would prove to them.
Three gauchos, during the fight, were dragged from their horses by the Argentines and made prisoners. One of them was Pincheira, the second Panchito, and the third a man of the name of Diego. A council of war, assembled in the open air, sentenced them to the gallows.
"Well, Diego," asked Panchito, "where is Pincheira?"
"The scoundrel has escaped," honest Panchito replied; "deserter from the army, deserter from the gallows! That is the way in which he breaks all his engagements. He will come to a very bad end."
"Our affair seems clear enough," Diego said with a sigh.
"Nonsense! A little sooner or a little later, what's the odds?"
"The gallows seems to tickle your fancy, Panchito."
"Not exactly," the other answered; "but for four generations my family have been hanged, from father to son; we quite expect it. What will the fiend do with my soul?"
"I do not know."
"Nor do I."