The War Of The End Of The World - Mario Vargas Llosa [293]
At the door of the Sanctuary, hidden behind a tall parapet of sandbags and boxes filled with dirt, they talk with the men of the Catholic Guard as they wait for the Macambiras. The old man, his eleven sons, and their wives are with the Counselor. Big João mentally selects which of the sons the father will be taking with him and thinks to himself that he would like to hear what the Counselor is saying to his family about to make this sacrifice for the Blessed Jesus. When they come out, the old man’s eyes are shining. The Little Blessed One and Mother Maria Quadrado accompany them as far as the parapet and bless them. The Macambiras embrace their wives, who cling to them and burst into tears. But Joaquim Macambira puts an end to the scene by saying that it is time to leave. The women go off with the Little Blessed One to the Temple to pray.
As they head for the trenches at Fazenda Velha, they pick up the equipment that Abbot João has ordered: crossbars, wedges, petards, axes, hammers. The old man and his sons hand them round without a word, as Abbot João explains to them that the Catholic Guards will distract the dogs by making a feigned attack while the Macambiras are crawling up to A Matadeira. “Let’s see if the ‘youngsters’ have located it,” he says.
Yes, they have located it. Pajeú confirms that they have, on meeting João and his men at Fazenda Velha. A Matadeira is on the first rise, immediately behind Monte Mário, alongside the first column’s other cannons. They have placed them in a line, between bags and barrels filled with stones. Two “youngsters” have crawled up there and, after crossing through no-man’s-land and the line of dead sharpshooters, counted three sentry posts on the almost vertical sides of A Favela.
Big João leaves Abbot João and the Macambiras with Pajeú and slips through the labyrinth that has been excavated along this stretch of land bordering the Vaza-Barris. From these tunnels and dugouts the jagunços have inflicted their worst punishment on the soldiers who, once they reached the heights and spied Canudos, rushed down the mountainsides to the city lying at the bottom of them. The terrible fusillade stopped them in their tracks, made them turn tail, run about in circles, collide with each other, knock each other down, trample each other as they discovered that they could neither retreat nor advance nor escape on the flanks and that their only choice was to throw themselves flat on the ground and set up defenses. Big João picks his way between sleeping jagunços; every so often, a sentry jumps down from the parapets to talk to him. He awakens forty men of the Catholic Guard and explains to them what they are to do. He is not surprised to learn that there have been practically no casualties in this maze of trenches; Abbot João had foreseen that the topography would offer the jagunços more protection there than anywhere else.
On his return to Fazenda Velha with the forty Catholic Guards, he finds Abbot João and Joaquim Macambira in the midst of an argument. The Street Commander wants the Macambiras to put on soldiers’ uniforms, claiming that this will better their chances of getting to the cannon. Joaquim Macambira indignantly refuses.
“I don’t want to be condemned to hell,” he growls.
“You won’t be. It’s so that you and your sons will get back alive.”
“My life and my sons’ are our business,” the old man thunders.
“Do as you please,” Abbot João says resignedly. “May the Father be with you, then.”
“Praised be Blessed Jesus the Counselor,” the old man says in farewell.
As they are entering no-man’s-land, the moon comes out. Big João swears under his breath and