Miguel kneeled by her side and tried to cover her breasts, but she flung the edge of the wrap away. Then she began to stutter incoherent phrases again, reaching with her arms, sobbing and laughing at the same time. The officer put his arm around the dying girl’s shoulders and then listened quietly while she continued to rave.
Suddenly Julia fell silent. Staring straight at Miguel, she laughed in languid ecstasy. She brought his head down to her face and puckered her lips, asking for a kiss. Miguel did not kiss her on the mouth but placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.
“You … I’m always yours,” she cried. For a moment she went limp. Then opening her eyes wide, in a high-pitched, hoarse voice imbued with a strange and powerful rage, she shouted, “Long live the great power of God!”
The officer loosened his grip on the girl as a shock of cold fear ran down his spine. Then the girl fainted, fell backward, and hit her head with a dull thud against the rock that had been her pillow.
A violent convulsion. She opened her mouth, then opened her eyes even wider, then died.
In his fiercest voice, a voice reserved for combat, Second Lieutenant Mercado ordered the corporal to open the door to the guard corps. The corporal was convinced that the second lieutenant was drunk.
Miguel went outside. It was four o’clock in the morning, the dead of night. The moon had disappeared and the stars glittered in their constellations. The nearby mountain peaks had faded away leaving only a black outline. In their shadowy recesses he could see luminous yellow smudges of smoldering bonfires. Soundlessly the corpses were consumed by the last of the flames. The cold winds off the mountains swept the ashes away, disseminating gusts of rot through the atmosphere. Even the dogs were quiet. Complete silence reigned.
“O Lord, my God! Alone! Alone! Where am I going next? Where will I go?” His kepi askew, Miguel sobbed as the icy breath of dawn swept over his exposed face.
Afterward he sat on a rock, cradling his head in his arms, which were crossed on the barrel of his rifle propped up on the hard ground of Tomochic. Finally he could cry. He cried as he had never cried before—at last, after so many bitter, violent years full of futility and utter despair. His tears flowed on and on, sweet and consoling.
When he raised his head and straightened up, he felt composed, strong, and capable. His sad eyes were still moist as he gazed down into a darkness broken only by deadly bursts of flame: piles of corpses continued to burn in the fathomless desolation of the valley below. In the east, dawn was breaking over the mountaintops.
Then Miguel Mercado cried out, “Bugler, play the reveille.”
Editor’s Notes
Chapter 2
1. This paragraph and the previous one contain obvious political irony; they were not part of the first edition.
2. This allusion to Díaz’s motto doesn’t appear until the second edition.
3. A silver coin that roughly equals a quarter of a peseta, a Spanish coin that has varied in value according to time and place.
4. At that time in the state of Chihuahua twenty-five- and fifty-cent bills were in circulation, issued by various banks.
Chapter 3
1. A type of rough-hewn leather sandal.
2. Small settlement or ranch.
3. A type of alcohol obtained from sugar cane or corn.
Chapter 4
1. A thick alcoholic beverage made from the juice of the Maguey cactus.
Chapter 5
1. A thick tortilla.
2. Small change.
Chapter 7
1. A stone used to grind corn and grains.
Chapter 8
1. Mexicans of European ancestry.
Chapter 12
1. Colorful woven blanket.
2. Vendors.
Chapter 15
1. An interjection such as “damn it!”
2. The seat of government.
Chapter 21
1. Chief.
2. A drink made from fermented corn.
Chapter 29
1. Napoleon’s 1805 victory over the British, Austrian, and Russian forces.
Chapter 34
1. People of European ancestry born in Mexico.
Chapter 35
1. A drink made from maguey.
Chapter 40
1. This segment represents a true challenge to Díaz, his regime and his army. It appears in the 1906 and 1911 editions only. This is pointed out, as in other similar passages, not to discredit the authority of the writer but to clarify circumstances leading to the war council of 1893. (See the introduction.)
The Battle of Tomochic Page 25