Goodbye, Colonel

Hernández’s rage did not abate until nightfall when the whisky brought him back to his talk of rural industry, to the iron railways that would link the pampas to the port and the port with the world and with Great Britain, to the concert of nations in which Argentina would be called upon to play its part in ending hunger across the world, to his talk of educating gauchos. Look at the nonsense they get up to, Gringa! After so many years of schooling, too! Liz asked him what he thought had happened to her husband. He assured her that the Argentine Army would not detain a British subject, they will definitely have freed him, unless he’s done something really bad. How dare you! Liz leapt to her feet. No, no, I’m not saying your husband is an outlaw, I’m just explaining Argentine laws to you, that’s all. He’d heard of a British man who had been picked up by the law by mistake; that was a while ago, and it was also a while ago that they let him go. Show me that map again, I want to see where your land is. He looked at the map for a bit: look Gringa, I don’t know who sold that land to your husband’s employer, but it’s still under Indian control. If he went that way the Indians must have him. Don’t be frightened, they’re not all that bad. Don’t you lie to me, I’ve been reading your book. Not that bad? You’re lying Colonel, I don’t believe you! You yourself recounted what they did to that poor white woman they held captive:

One squaw there was who hated her

And wished she’d go to hell.

Well, one day that squaw’s sister died,

And – seeing the pale-face close beside –

The squaw screamed out: ‘I’ll have your hide!

You killed her with a spell!’

An Indian brave then dragged her out

And threatened her full sore;

Said she her witchcraft must declare,

She must confess it, then and there,

If she refused, revenge he’d swear

Until she lived no more.

The poor white woman wept and cried

But it was all in vain,

The Indian brave, with fury wild

Hit out at her and seized her child,

And with his whip he her reviled

Till she screamed out in pain.

That savage man, so cruel was he

He whipped her hard and long.

The blows fell fast, and still they fell –

His face with furious rage did swell

She felt the pain of death and hell,

Though she had done no wrong.

At last in fury he cried out

‘For this you’re going to pay!

You killed our girl with your evil eye

So for your son the end is nigh!’

At his cruel knife the boy did die:

Cold at her feet he lay.

Liz’s reading gave Hernández his colour and his good humour back. Her accent reading the lines in Spanish seemed to amuse him, as it amused me, because he roared and roared and even cried with laughter. My darling Gringa, do you believe everything you read? I invented all that, well nearly all of it. Yes, women are taken captive and no, they aren’t treated like royalty, but it’s not really any worse than the way we treat the chinas. Oh, I’m so sorry Liz, I can’t stop laughing, I said that they capture women but I’ve never heard of them slaughtering white children like lambs, and besides, some of the women seem to have quite a good time with the Indians. My mother told me about one, a British woman like yourself, who fell in love with her Indian captor and didn’t want to go back to civilisation. My mother offered to take her in and get her children back, though I don’t know how she would have gone about doing that, but anyway she didn’t have to, as the British woman said no, she was happy living in Indian Territory with her Chief. My mother saw the blonde-haired Indian again when she went along to the general store to buy provisions and a few luxuries; they’d just slaughtered a sheep, and the Englishwoman actually jumped down from her horse to have a suck at the warm blood. Are you telling the truth now? Yes, yes, I’m not spinning you a tale. I’m just telling you what my mother told me, Gringa. I think she jumped off her horse so that my mother would see her and understand. Understand what? That she’d embraced another way of life, like you are doing here; you left Great Britain with its machines, manners and civilisation, the highest form of civilisation in the world, to come and seek your fortune on an estancia. And I don’t know who can have sold that land to your employer, my dear, but I can tell you that it’s not going to be easy for you to make a go of it there. Unless you do business with the Indians. But why did you lie about them? I’ve already told you, Liz: Argentina needs that land in order to progress. And as for the gauchos, they need an enemy to turn them into patriotic Argentines. We all need the Indians. I am creating a nation on land, in combat, and on paper, do you see? And you are helping us build that nation too. I’m not going to let you go unarmed, I’m going to give you rifles and gunpowder. And a few trinkets that Indians like. The caña that no one here will ever drink again, for a start. Tobacco. And little mirrors, the Indians are terribly vain, you’ll see. Now come with me, I’ve got a surprise for you.

Off they went. It wasn’t a night for taking risks so I went to sleep in the room that had been assigned to me. I managed to sneak Estreya in and he kept still and stayed quiet as if he understood the situation. He probably did understand a bit; outside, the fierce dogs of the gauchos would have given him a hard time again. I hugged him close and fell asleep. I would see Liz just after dawn, dressed in her wagon gear once more. She showered me in kisses and showed me the surprise that Hernández had given her: it was the diamond. He had put it on her right hand. It lent her red and white colouring even more sparkle.