erritory. He would get even with Gamacho by-and-by.
And Senor Gamacho's oration, delectable to popular ears, went on in the
heat and glare of the Plaza like the uncouth howlings of an inferior
sort of devil cast into a white-hot furnace. Every moment he had to wipe
his streaming face with his bare fore-arm; he had flung off his coat,
and had turned up the sleeves of his shirt high above the elbows; but
he kept on his head the large cocked hat with white plumes. His
ingenuousness cherished this sign of his rank as Commandante of the
National Guards. Approving and grave murmurs greeted his periods. His
opinion was that war should be declared at once against France, England,
Germany, and the United States, who, by introducing railways, mining
enterprises, colonization, and under such other shallow pretences, aimed
at robbing poor people of their lands, and with the help of these Goths
and paralytics, the aristocrats would convert them into toiling and
miserable slaves. And the leperos, flinging about the corners of their
dirty white mantas, yelled their approbation. General Montero, Gamacho
howled with conviction, was the only man equal to the patriotic task.
They assented to that, too.

The morning was wearing on; there were already signs of disruption,
currents and eddies in the crowd. Some were seeking the shade of the
walls and under the trees of the Alameda. Horsemen spurred through,
shouting; groups of sombreros set level on heads against the vertical
sun were drifting away into the streets, where the open doors of
pulperias revealed an enticing gloom resounding with the gentle tinkling
of guitars. The National Guards were thinking of siesta, and the
eloquence of Gamacho, their chief, was exhausted. Later on, when, in the
cooler hours of the afternoon, they tried to assemble again for further
consideration of public affairs, detachments of Montero's cavalry camped
on the Alameda charged them without parley, at speed, with long lances
levelled at their flying backs as far as the ends of the streets. The
National Guards of Sulaco were surprised by this proceeding. But they
were not indignant. No Costaguanero had ever learned to question the
eccentricities of a military force. They were part of the natural order
of things. This must be, they concluded, some kind of administrative
measure, no doubt. But the motive of it escaped their unaided
intelligence, and their chief and orator, Gamacho, Commandante of the
National G