the shirt obviously belonged to me after five
days of pouring sweat into it. What had led to Donna’s clawing at the tree? Scent, nothing but scent. Did she expect to find me inside the shirt? Teresa was not allowed to touch it.
‘She’ll be useful on the march,’ I said, ‘provided Pepe comes too.’
‘What march?’
‘To the present headquarters of the Retadores.’
I folded back the shirt. Moonlight revealed a new glory of the Punchao. The golden disk displayed a ghost of the moon’s silver. I dreamed of telling Hector that he should arrange special
visits to the museum on the nights of full moon and take the Punchao from its case to receive the curious reflection.
‘Will Pepe come with us? I hardly know him.’
‘Of course. He is as passionate a Retadore as you. But I must wait here till he turns up to give Donna her breakfast.’
‘What shall we give her to eat on the march?’
‘She will look after that. Partridges will find themselves in the pot before they know it. Now if you come here with three horses early in the morning, Pepe and I will be ready for
you.’
‘But the police will miss the horses and follow our tracks to make sure where they have gone. If I don’t turn up it will mean that I have been arrested and shut up in the house. You
and Pepe must then go on alone.’
She slipped away into the trees. I wanted to catch Pepe at his first appearance, so I lay down across the entrance to Donna’s hollow and dozed the rest of the night away.
At dawn I was woken up by Donna’s special greeting to Pepe, between a low bark and an almost human speech of greeting. Her nose was magnificently sensitive. It was some time before he
actually arrived. On seeing me, his hand dropped to his knife.
‘Put that away, friend,’ I said, ‘and tell Donna that as soon as all three of us have had breakfast, you, the Señorita Molina and I start the march to take the Punchao
to the general of the Retadores.’
‘Then this is the Punchao?’ he asked in a voice which showed that he thought it possible, but couldn’t believe in the dream.
I raised it clear of the shirt so that it took the first light of the rising sun. Pepe dropped to his knees and lifted his hands in adoration. The first was his Christian response; the second an
unconscious obeisance to some remnant of the old religion underlining, for me, Heredia’s brilliance in choosing the Punchao for his emblem of government.
I told Pepe of Teresa’s intention of securing it for the Retadores. He was even more enthusiastic than I had anticipated and begged me to let him accompany us.
‘I shall be counting on you and Donna too, but are you married?’
‘Not yet. But after this she will know that I am a man worthy of her.’
We heard a horse approaching, but only one, and Teresa’s head and shoulders appeared above the screen of bushes.
‘I could only get away with one,’ she said. ‘The same horse as before. I think the police were suspicious. There was a guard on the stables.’
‘Well, you and I will walk with Donna,’ I said to Pepe, ‘and God be with us!’
‘We will take turns to ride,’ Teresa ordered.
We struck inland to the heart of the mountains and that was the last we saw of the sea. Progress was slow. It took us three days to reach the camp of the Retadores from which they had launched
their attack on the capital and then had set out, after evacuating the women and children, on that gruelling march to the sea. Our own tracks were plain enough. Donna, faced by unfamiliar scents,
was no help apart from showing us that the refugees had divided into three parties. We chose the wrong third, which appeared to be heading for the northern frontier. I could see why Heredia in
spite of continual reported victories found it hard to pin down any concentration of Retadores, who attacked, disengaged and bolted to their villages leaving a scatter of dead and wounded behind
them. Prisoners were his only hope of gaining
days of pouring sweat into it. What had led to Donna’s clawing at the tree? Scent, nothing but scent. Did she expect to find me inside the shirt? Teresa was not allowed to touch it.
‘She’ll be useful on the march,’ I said, ‘provided Pepe comes too.’
‘What march?’
‘To the present headquarters of the Retadores.’
I folded back the shirt. Moonlight revealed a new glory of the Punchao. The golden disk displayed a ghost of the moon’s silver. I dreamed of telling Hector that he should arrange special
visits to the museum on the nights of full moon and take the Punchao from its case to receive the curious reflection.
‘Will Pepe come with us? I hardly know him.’
‘Of course. He is as passionate a Retadore as you. But I must wait here till he turns up to give Donna her breakfast.’
‘What shall we give her to eat on the march?’
‘She will look after that. Partridges will find themselves in the pot before they know it. Now if you come here with three horses early in the morning, Pepe and I will be ready for
you.’
‘But the police will miss the horses and follow our tracks to make sure where they have gone. If I don’t turn up it will mean that I have been arrested and shut up in the house. You
and Pepe must then go on alone.’
She slipped away into the trees. I wanted to catch Pepe at his first appearance, so I lay down across the entrance to Donna’s hollow and dozed the rest of the night away.
At dawn I was woken up by Donna’s special greeting to Pepe, between a low bark and an almost human speech of greeting. Her nose was magnificently sensitive. It was some time before he
actually arrived. On seeing me, his hand dropped to his knife.
‘Put that away, friend,’ I said, ‘and tell Donna that as soon as all three of us have had breakfast, you, the Señorita Molina and I start the march to take the Punchao
to the general of the Retadores.’
‘Then this is the Punchao?’ he asked in a voice which showed that he thought it possible, but couldn’t believe in the dream.
I raised it clear of the shirt so that it took the first light of the rising sun. Pepe dropped to his knees and lifted his hands in adoration. The first was his Christian response; the second an
unconscious obeisance to some remnant of the old religion underlining, for me, Heredia’s brilliance in choosing the Punchao for his emblem of government.
I told Pepe of Teresa’s intention of securing it for the Retadores. He was even more enthusiastic than I had anticipated and begged me to let him accompany us.
‘I shall be counting on you and Donna too, but are you married?’
‘Not yet. But after this she will know that I am a man worthy of her.’
We heard a horse approaching, but only one, and Teresa’s head and shoulders appeared above the screen of bushes.
‘I could only get away with one,’ she said. ‘The same horse as before. I think the police were suspicious. There was a guard on the stables.’
‘Well, you and I will walk with Donna,’ I said to Pepe, ‘and God be with us!’
‘We will take turns to ride,’ Teresa ordered.
We struck inland to the heart of the mountains and that was the last we saw of the sea. Progress was slow. It took us three days to reach the camp of the Retadores from which they had launched
their attack on the capital and then had set out, after evacuating the women and children, on that gruelling march to the sea. Our own tracks were plain enough. Donna, faced by unfamiliar scents,
was no help apart from showing us that the refugees had divided into three parties. We chose the wrong third, which appeared to be heading for the northern frontier. I could see why Heredia in
spite of continual reported victories found it hard to pin down any concentration of Retadores, who attacked, disengaged and bolted to their villages leaving a scatter of dead and wounded behind
them. Prisoners were his only hope of gaining
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