Blood and Sand

by Vicente Blasco Ibáñez

The picador wanted to prolong the bandit's stay, delighted to think he should be able to describe this interesting meeting in the town.

"I have been here three hours, and I must go. I never spend so long a time in so open and unconcealed a place as La Rinconada. Possibly by now some one has carried the news that I am here."

"Are you afraid of the civiles," enquired Potaje. "They will not come, or if they do, I am at your side."

Plumitas made a contemptuous gesture. The civiles! They are men like any others: some of them brave enough, but they are all fathers of families, and would manage not to see him. They only came out against him when chance brought them face to face, and there was no means of avoiding it.

"Last month I was at the farm of 'the five chimnies' breaking fast as I am here to-day, though not in such good company, when I saw six civiles on foot coming. I am quite sure they did not know I was there, and only came for refreshment. It was an unlucky chance, for neither they nor I could turn tail in the presence of all the farm people. The owner locked the gates, and the civiles began to knock for them to be opened. I ordered him and a shepherd to stand by the two leaves of the door. 'When I say "now" open them wide.' I mounted my mare, with my revolver in my hand. 'Now!' The door was opened wide, and I galloped out like the devil. They fired two or three shots, but did not touch me. I also fired as I went out, and I understand wounded two of the civiles.... To cut it short, I fled lying on the mare's neck, so that they should not make a target of me, and the civiles revenged themselves by thrashing the farm servants; for which reason, Seño Juan, it is best to say nothing about my visits. For if you do, down come the three cornered hats, sickening you with enquiries and declarations, as if they were going to catch me with those."

Those of La Rinconada assented mutely. They knew it well enough. They must hold their tongues to avoid annoyances, as they did in all the other farms or shepherd's ranches. This general silence was the bandit's most powerful auxiliary. Besides, all these country peasants were admirers of Plumitas, looking on him as an avenging hero. They need fear no harm from him. His menaces only touched the rich.

"I am not afraid of the civiles," continued the bandit. "Those I fear are the poor. The poor are good, but poverty is such an ugly thing! I know that those three cornered hats will not kill me: they have no balls that can touch me. If anyone kills me, it will be one of the poor. I let them approach without fear because they belong to my own class, but some day advantage will be taken of my carelessness. I have enemies, people who have sworn vengeance on me; for one must have a heavy hand, if one would be respected. If one kills a man outright his family remain to avenge him, but if one is good natured and contents oneself with taking down his trousers and caressing him with a bunch of nettles and thistles he remembers the jest all his life.... It is the poor, those of my own class that I fear; besides, in every village there is some fine fellow who thinks he would like to be my heir—and hopes to find me some day sleeping in the shade of a tree, and will blow off my head point blank."

A quarter of an hour later Plumitas came out of the stable into the courtyard mounted on his powerful mare, the inseparable companion of his wanderings. The bony animal looked bigger and brighter for her brief hours of plenty in the Rinconada mangers.

Plumitas caressed her flanks, pausing as he arranged his blanket on the saddle-bow. She might indeed be content. She would not often be so well treated as at Señor Juan Gallardo's farm. And now she must carry herself well, for the day would be long.