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Page 19
Demetrio nodded hasty approval. They had already
placed a loaf of bread soaked in alcohol on his stomach;
although when this was removed he began to be cooler,
he felt that he was still feverish inside.
"Come on, Remigia, you do it, you certainly know
how," the women said.
Out of a reed sheath, Remigia pulled a long and
curved knife which served to cut cactus fruit. She took
the pigeon in one hand, turned it over, its breast up-
ward, and with the skill of a surgeon, ripped it in two
with a single thrust.
"In the name of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Remigia
said, blessing the room and making the sign of the cross;
next, with infinite dexterity, she placed the warm bleed-
ing portions of the pigeon upon Demetrio's abdomen.
"You'll see: you'll feel much better now."
Obeying Remigia's instructions, Demetrio lay motion-
less, crumpled up on one side.
Then Fortunata gave vent to her sorrows. She liked
these gentlemen of the revolution, all right, that she did
--for, three months ago, you know, the Government sol-
diers had run away with her only daughter. This had
broken her heart, Yes, and driven her all but crazy.
As she began, Anastasio Montanez and Quail lay on
the floor near the stretcher, their mouths gaping, all
ears to the story. But Fortunata's wealth of detail by
the time she had told half of it bored Quail and he
left the hut to scratch himself out in the sun. By the
time Fortunata had at last concluded with a solemn "I
pray God and the Blessed Virgin Mary that you are
not sparing the life of a single one of those Federals
from hell," Demetrio, face to wall, felt greatly relieved
by the stomach cure, and was busy thinking of the best
route by which to proceed to Durango. Anastasio Mon-
tanez was snoring like a trombone.
X
"Why don't you call in the tenderfoot to treat you,
Compadre Demetrio," Anastasio Montanez asked his
chief, who had been complaining daily of chills and fever.
"You ought to see him; no one has laid a hand to him
but himself, and now he's so fit that he doesn't limp
a step."
But Venancio, standing by with his tins of lard and
his dirty string rags ready, protested:
"All right, if anybody lays a hand on Demetrio, I
won't be responsible."
"Nonsense! Rot! What kind of doctor do you think
you are? You're no doctor at all. I'll wager you've al-
ready forgotten why you ever joined us," said Quail.
"Well, I remember why you joined us, Quail," Ve-
nancio replied angrily. "Perhaps you'll deny it was be-
cause you had stolen a watch and some diamond rings."
"Ha, ha, ha! That's rich! But you're worse, my lad;
you ran away from your hometown because you poi-
soned your sweetheart."
"You're a Goddamned liar!"
"Yes you did! And don't try and deny it! You fed her
Spanish fly and . . ."
Venancio's shout of protest was drowned out in the
loud laughter of the others. Demetrio, looking pale and
sallow, motioned for silence. Then, plaintively:
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