Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART FIRST: THE SILVER OF THE MINE 8. CHAPTER EIGHT (continued)

Hernandez, the robber, had been an inoffensive, small ranchero,
kidnapped with circumstances of peculiar atrocity from his home
during one of the civil wars, and forced to serve in the army.
There his conduct as soldier was exemplary, till, watching his
chance, he killed his colonel, and managed to get clear away.
With a band of deserters, who chose him for their chief, he had
taken refuge beyond the wild and waterless Bolson de Tonoro. The
haciendas paid him blackmail in cattle and horses; extraordinary
stories were told of his powers and of his wonderful escapes from
capture. He used to ride, single-handed, into the villages and
the little towns on the Campo, driving a pack mule before him,
with two revolvers in his belt, go straight to the shop or store,
select what he wanted, and ride away unopposed because of the
terror his exploits and his audacity inspired. Poor country
people he usually left alone; the upper class were often stopped
on the roads and robbed; but any unlucky official that fell into
his hands was sure to get a severe flogging. The army officers
did not like his name to be mentioned in their presence. His
followers, mounted on stolen horses, laughed at the pursuit of
the regular cavalry sent to hunt them down, and whom they took
pleasure to ambush most scientifically in the broken ground of
their own fastness. Expeditions had been fitted out; a price had
been put upon his head; even attempts had been made,
treacherously of course, to open negotiations with him, without
in the slightest way affecting the even tenor of his career. At
last, in true Costaguana fashion, the Fiscal of Tonoro, who was
ambitious of the glory of having reduced the famous Hernandez,
offered him a sum of money and a safe conduct out of the country
for the betrayal of his band. But Hernandez evidently was not of
the stuff of which the distinguished military politicians and
conspirators of Costaguana are made. This clever but common
device (which frequently works like a charm in putting down
revolutions) failed with the chief of vulgar Salteadores. It
promised well for the Fiscal at first, but ended very badly for
the squadron of lanceros posted (by the Fiscal's directions) in a
fold of the ground into which Hernandez had promised to lead his
unsuspecting followers They came, indeed, at the appointed time,
but creeping on their hands and knees through the bush, and only
let their presence be known by a general discharge of firearms,
which emptied many saddles. The troopers who escaped came riding
very hard into Tonoro. It is said that their commanding officer
(who, being better mounted, rode far ahead of the rest)
afterwards got into a state of despairing intoxication and beat
the ambitious Fiscal severely with the flat of his sabre in the
presence of his wife and daughters, for bringing this disgrace
upon the National Army. The highest civil official of Tonoro,
falling to the ground in a swoon, was further kicked all over the
body and rowelled with sharp spurs about the neck and face
because of the great sensitiveness of his military colleague.
This gossip of the inland Campo, so characteristic of the rulers
of the country with its story of oppression, inefficiency,
fatuous methods, treachery, and savage brutality, was perfectly
known to Mrs. Gould. That it should be accepted with no indignant
comment by people of intelligence, refinement, and character as
something inherent in the nature of things was one of the
symptoms of degradation that had the power to exasperate her
almost to the verge of despair. Still looking at the ingot of
silver, she shook her head at Don Pepe's remark--