THE INSURGENCE of
CHAN SANTA CRUZ
BOOK FOUR:
THE BOOK of SCIENCE
CHAPTER SIX
A
company of twenty five departed Santa Cruz del Bravo
on the following morning, under command of the flamboyant Captain Oveido. Next in rank was Andujar
and, after him, Teniente Carlos Hernandez... three
months out of military college. There were also three Sergeants, each with more
experience than all of their commanding officers combined; included, among
these, one Claudio Carrasco who, after fourteen years service, was being given
his first command assignment... the telegraph station, presumably ruined, of
San Geronimo.
In
placing an enlisted soldado in command of the
station, Bravo was deliberately violating over forty years of loyalty to Army
procedure. Even the smallest outpost was to be commanded by an officer, however
green and, indeed, all of the other posts in the northern half of the territory
adhered to this unwritten rule. San Geronimo, however, was indispensable and,
under the ordinary run of commander, quite undefendable.
Bravo had considered those officers whom he could spare and, finally, had
rejected every one. There were plenty of places in the Republic where an
inexperienced man, whether a few months graduated from Chapultepec or even a
few years, could be given command without danger. San Geronimo was not one of
these places... and, in the taciturn, loyal Sergeant,
Bravo had a man who was more than a match both for the force of the sublevados and the wiles of Vega.
Beside
Carrasco rode a telegraph operator named Alcazar, a tall, indescribably thin
man who proceeded towards his destination like a scarecrow being led to the
pyre. Twenty soldiers of mixed history accompanied these and there was not a soldadera or indian
servant to be found. Gloom hung thick as one of those clouds of mosquitoes
already bedeviling the company, as the dry tortillas and burned beans of the
first night were consumed. Life in Santa Cruz, save for the heat and the
disease... and the myriad forms of corruption, and Bravo's store which gobbled
their pay, the screeching birds, thieving dogs and insects and the insolent
robbers and labor agitators from Belem and the other prisons of Mexico who
would work no faster no matter how many arrobas given... well, it was
tolerable. More than a few of the men reckoned themselves spoiled and, rather
than blaming themselves for the misfortune of being drafted for the patrol,
they focused their resentment upon Major Oveido.
While
the soldados sipped a bitter pimiento tea and further
cursed the Captain for failing to bring more than a personal supply of coffee, Oveido shared his cup with Andujar
and, in an gesture of liberality, Sergeant Carrasco. Andujar found it difficult to long dislike the Captain, for
all of his faults. He was a splendid horseman and his only concession to
discipline was the ordering of every last man to feed, water and inspect their
mounts before commencing their own meals. The Oviedo family was a large
landholder in Chihuahua with relatives by marriage among the powerful Terrazas clan and the Captain's ambition, in fact, was to
become a General and retire, with that rank and by the age of forty, to the
gentlemanly profession of breeding horses. Naturally he despised Quintana Roo, General Bravo, chicle, indians and snakes and, like José Macias before him, could
often be found curled in his hammock with a book.
"Do
you know the story of the Yucatecan indians and their
first horse?" he now asked, and both Andujar and
Sergeant Carrasco shook their heads.
"Before
the Conquest, there was not a horse in all of Mexico, although science would
hold that the breed existed here for many ages before an inexplicable
extinction. Early in the sixteenth century, when the savages had learned of the
Spaniards and perhaps some had seen a few of them; the cavalry, for example, and,
being unable to discern the man from the horse..."
"Ah,"
Carrasco interrupted, "and so they misinterpreted the horse and rider as a
fantastical being, a centaur?"
Oveido, being one of those men who give the impression of
listening gravely to every word uttered in their presence, took some time to
ponder the sergeant's word, giving an impression of deep thought. He lowered
his head and frowned.
"A centaur... not unlikely, no. An
excellent point, sergeant." Carrasco beamed. Don Juan, the Captain,
had recognized his intelligence on a subject of much importance, the settlement
of Yucatan by the Classical Greeks and Romans and their gods. With the command
of San Geronimo, his career was advancing momentously.
"One
night, perhaps thirty or forty years after Columbus," the Captain
continued, "a Spanish vessel rammed the reefs to the north of here and
sank. All its men perished and the only survivor was a horse, which swam to
shore and was easily captured by the indians,
being the much fatigued by its escape.
"These
indians did what comes
unquestioningly to the heathen when confronted by some novelty that does not
immediately threaten them... they made the horse one of their gods. They draped
it in flowers and led it into their city, where it was stationed in the house
of the Chief. Because it would be sacrilege to offer common corn and beans to a
god, they placed, before the horse, their choicest roasted meats and fowl and
fish. The horse... being a horse... would have nothing to do with such repasts.
Day after day it wasted. The indians
beat their drums and wailed, and who knows what sacrifices were performed to
inspire their cannibal gods to make the horse-god eat, what ghastly delicacies
were placed under its nose. But the flesh of warriors and virgins, like all the
venison and turkey in the peninsula, was of no interest to the beast. Finally
it died and was buried with much superstitious ceremony. And that is why the indians here still worship horses,
and will not ride one even to save their lives. After four hundred years... the
stupid creatures! Why we have not simply marched down to the border with Belize
killing them all is something, I'll never understand."
"Bravo
must have his reasons, and he is our General," said Andujar.
He did not bother to make the Captain understand that only foolish indians would go into the monte
where the sapodilla and mahogany trees grew, that only they would suffer
the assaults of snakes and falling logs and the insults of the dread chicle fly
which lays its eggs in a man's nose and ears while he rests or sleeps, leaving
the maggots to devour them from the inside out until it became impossible to
distinguish the unfortunate chiclero from one of
those leprous creatures of high birth one sometimes saw on holiday in Merida.
All of this the indians did for a want of money,
which need Captain Oveido... unlike Andujar, Carrasco and, most importantly, the General whose
palm was ever itching for the touch of gold... would also never understand.
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