The Underdogs, a Story of the Mexican Revolution by Mariano Azuela


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Page 31

As he spoke a fresh volley of pistol shots, directed
from the neighboring roofs, fell like a rain about them.

"By God," the man said, "those ain't poisonous spiders;
they're only townsmen scared of their own shadow. Come
in here until they stop."

"How many of them are there?" asked Demetrio.

"There were only twelve of them. But last night they
were scared out of their wits so they wired to the town
beyond for help. I don't know how many of them there
are now. Even if there are a hell of a lot of them, it
doesn't cut any ice! Most of them aren't soldiers, you
know, but drafted men; if just one of them starts mu-
tinying, the rest will follow like sheep. My brother was
drafted; they've got him there. I'll go along with you
and signal to him; all of them will desert and follow you.
Then we'll only have the officers to deal with! If you want
to give me a gun or something. . . ."

"No more rifles left, brother. But I guess you can
put these to some use," Anastasio Montanez said, passing
him two hand grenades.

The officer in command of the Federals was a young
coxcomb of a captain with a waxed mustache and blond
hair. As long as he felt uncertain about the strength of the
assailants, he had remained extremely quiet and prudent;
but now that they had driven the rebels back without al-
lowing them a chance to fire a single shot, he waxed bold
and brave. While the soldiers did not dare put out their
heads beyond the pillars of the building, his own shadow
stood against the pale clear dawn, exhibiting his well-built
slender body and his officer's cape bellying in the breeze.

"Ha, I remember our coup d'etat!"

His military career had consisted of the single adven-
ture when, together with other students of the Officers'
School, he was involved in the treacherous revolt of
Feliz Diaz and Huerta against President Madero. When-
ever the slightest insubordination arose, he invariably re-
called his feat at the Ciudadela.

"Lieutenant Campos," he ordered emphatically, "take
a dozen men and wipe out the bandits hiding there! The
curs! They're only brave when it comes to guzzling meat
and robbing a hencoop!"

A workingman appeared at the small door of the spiral
staircase, announcing that the assailants were hidden in
a corral where they might easily be captured. This mes-
sage came from the citizens keeping watch on housetops.

"I'll go myself and get it over with!" the officer de-
clared impetuously.

But he soon changed his mind. Before he had reached
the door, he retraced his steps.

"Very likely they are waiting for more men and, of
course, it would be wrong for me to abandon my post.
Lieutenant Campos, go there yourself and capture them
dead or alive. We'll shoot them at noon when every-
body's coming out of church. Those bandits will see the
example I'll set around here. But if you can't capture
them, Lieutenant, kill them all. Don't leave a man of
them alive, do you understand?"

In high good humor, he began pacing up and down
the room, formulating the official despatch he would send
off no later than today.


To His Honor the Minister for War,
General A. Blanquet,
Mexico City.

Sir:
I have the honor to inform your Excellency that on the
morning of . . . a rebel army, five hundred strong, com-
manded by . . . attacked this town, which I am charged
to defend. With such speed as the gravity of the situation
called for, I fortified my post in the town. The battle
lasted two hours. Despite the superiority of the enemy in
men and equipment, I was able to defeat and rout them.
Their casualties were twenty killed and a far greater num-
ber of wounded, judging from the trails of blood they left
behind them as they retreated. I am pleased to state there
was no casualty on our side. I have the honor to con-
gratulate Your Excellency upon this new triumph for the
Federal arms. Viva Presidente Huerta! Viva Mexico!

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Wed 14th Jan 2026, 10:45