3
The partners were still strengthening their stations with piled-up earth, so that they could hide their heads while shooting, when the first bandits appeared on the glade.
Howard hissed to get the boys’ attention. A hiss was a very good signal, invented by the old man, as it was not different from the natural sounds of the vicinity and so was noticed only by those who were meant to hear it.
Three men were standing in the narrow opening of the bush. One of them was the man with the huge gilded palm hat. They stood for a while rather bewildered, seeing the place bare and no sign of a human being near. They called back to the other men coming into the clearing. It seemed they had left their horses on a little plateau, located some hundred and fifty feet below on the road, where there was a bit of thin pasturage. Since this last part of the trail was the hardest to make with animals, they had left the horses farther down and so reached the camp earlier than the boys had figured they would.
Two minutes later all men save two who guarded the horses were on the camp-site. What they said the boys in the trench could not hear; the distance was too great.
All the men carried guns on their hips—guns of different types and calibers. Four men carried shotguns, and two had rifles. All were in rags and had not washed or shaved for weeks; for months they had had no haircuts. Most of them wore the usual sandals; a few had boots, but ripped open and with torn soles; some had on leather pants like those worn by cowboys or cattle-farmers. All carried cheap woolen blankets over their shoulders.
Two men ventured farther into the camp-site. They noted that a tent had been pitched and a fire built not long before. Then they looked around and, on seeing no other sign, returned to the other men, now squatting on the ground near the opening.
From the spot where they were sitting, it was hard to tell that there was a ravine at the opposite part of the camp.
They were smoking and talking. The boys in the trench could see from the gestures of the men that they did not know what to make of all this or what to do. A few were heard quarreling because they had made so hard a trip without the slightest gain.
Some rose and began again to walk about the place to see if there was any trace of the hunter supposed to be there. When they returned to the main group it seemed as if they had decided to leave the camp, go down the valley, and look there for further adventures.
There was a long discussion about several points. A few men went to the middle of the camp and sat down there. Now they had to talk louder so that all the men spread over a wider space could understand what was said and give their opinions. The leader seemed to have little authority, nor was there any sort of discipline among them. Each had his own opinion, and each thought his own advice should be followed by the others.
One proposed that they use this site for headquarters from which to raid the villages in the valley.
“That would be the goddamned worst thing they could do,” said Dobbs to Howard in a hushed voice.
“You bet it would, but be quiet, so that we can listen in better.”
“I wonder,” said Curtin to Lacaud, “if it wouldn’t be best to bump them all off right now; none could escape alive. Give the word to the old man and ask him what he thinks.”
The word came back from Howard that he meant to wait; they might change their plans yet and go.
“Just look at these guys nearest here.” Curtin spoke again to Lacaud. “A fine bunch they are; they have hanging around their necks medals and pictures of the saints and the Virgin to protect them from the devil. That’s something, oh boy!”
“I told you that the papers said that the passengers had observed that all these murderers were pious Catholics.”
“Here the church has sure done a great thing,” Curtin said. “Our Methodists can’t beat that. But, man, look, what are they about now?”
Two men began to build a fire right where the partners used to have theirs, where there were still a few half-burned sticks lying about.
“There’s no doubt that they mean to stay here at least for one night,” Howard said to Dobbs.
“Well, it won’t be long now before we’ll have a real movie here.”
“They’ve got plenty of ammunition.” Lacaud pointed to some of the men who had three cartridge-belts slung about their chests, most of them well filled.
4
Having built the fire, one of the men went exploring, for fuel or for water or for a rabbit-hole or for wild green pepper. He went straight across the camp and right up to the trench.
He did not look at the base of the rock, but glanced up the rock, thinking perhaps he might find a trace of the gringo. Perhaps there might be a cave in which he lived.
Not seeing anything, he was about to return to the fire when he looked down to the bottom of the rock, where he saw just the head of Curtin—nothing else. He seemed not quite sure whether he had seen right, so he stepped one pace closer.
“Ay, caramba, chingue tu madre,” he said in a surprised voice. Then he turned round to his gang and shouted: “Ven aca, come here, all you muchachos. Here you will see a great sight. Hurry. Our little birdie is sitting on his eggs, waiting to hatch. Who ever would have thought them goddamned gringos and cabrones would use a skunk-hole for their headquarters?”
All the men rose and came hurrying toward him.
When they were half-way across the camp, Curtin shouted: “Stop or I shoot!”
The bandits immediately stopped and the man who had discovered Curtin and was only five feet away from the trench raised his arm and said: “All right, all right, bueno, muy bueno, don’t get sore at me, ya me voy, I am on my way.” Saying this, he retreated, walking backwards. He made no attempt to reach for his gun.
The bandits had been so taken by surprise that for a while they could not speak. They returned slowly to the opening where the trail ran into the thicket.
Here they began to talk rather rapidly. None of the boys in the trench could understand a word of what they were saying.
A few moments later the leader, the one with the golden hat, stepped forward right in the middle of the camp. He put his thumbs close together in front of his belt, wishing by doing so to indicate that he did not mean to shoot as long as the other did not draw.
“Oiga, senor, listen. We are no bandits. You are mistaken. We are the policla montada, the mounted police, you know. We are looking for the bandits, to catch them. They have robbed the train, you know.”
“All right,” Curtin shouted back. “If ypu are the police, where are your badges? Let’s see them.”
“Badges, to goddamned hell with badges! We have no badges. In fact, we don’t need badges. I don’t have to show you any stinking badges, you goddamned cabron and ching’ tu madre! Come out there from that shit-hole of yours. I have to speak to you.”
“I have nothing to say to you. If you want to speak to me, you can do so just as well from where you are. You’d better not come any closer if you want to keep your health.”
“We shall arrest you by order of the governor. You are hunting here without a hunter’s license, nor have you any for carrying guns. We have orders to confiscate your guns and your ammunition.”
“Where is your badge?” Curtin asked. “Let’s see it and I might be willing to talk things over with you.”
“Be reasonable, tenga razon. We are not going to arrest you. Just hand over your gun with the cartuchos, the ammunition, you know. Your shotgun you may keep for yourself. That’s the Sort of guys we are.”
He came two steps nearer the trench. Four or five of the others started to follow their leader.
“Another step,” Curtin yelled, “and I shoot, so help me!”
“No sea malo, hombre. Why, we don’t want to do you any harm. No harm at all! Why can’t you be just a little more polite? Or at least moire sociable. We mean well. Give us your gun and we’ll leave you in peace. Sure we will.” He made no attempt to come nearer.
“I need my gun myself and I won’t part with it.”
“Throw that old iron over here and we’ll pick it up and go on our way.”
