When the Owl Cries Part 54

"My father's dead ... buried under that wall," said Raul, b.u.t.toning his s.h.i.+rt, wiping a smudge from his face.

"Somebody set fire to the mill; it's all in flames. I just came from there.... There's shooting."

"Do what you can at the mill--I'll find you later," said Raul. "I'm going for Manuel, I'll see about Father Gabriel.... Find Velasco. Get Esteban. Let's fight 'em off at the mill. Let's fight for this place!"

In the living room a fine old set of ivory dominoes had been hurled to the floor, the box splintering into many pieces. He saw them, as he lit a table lamp and put on his shoes. For a moment, he knelt to pick them up and then remembered his father. Suppose Manuel or Gabriel or someone else had been pinned down?

"Gabriel!" Raul shouted outside the hacienda, aware of the whitening sky. "Gabriel!"

"Raul?"

"Where are you?"

"At the chapel."

Gabriel had taken an injured girl just inside the chapel door, and was working over her by a vigil lamp.

"Can you find Velasco for me?"

"I haven't seen him!" Shall I tell him about my father, Raul thought?

No, that can wait. I'll go for help.

"I'll see if I can find Velasco. I'm looking for Manuel."

Flames from the mill transfixed him as he went out the chapel door; the light seemed to spout above Petaca, threatening every wall, the forecourt, the chapel. Gabriel, in the doorway beside the girl, tried to give her water.

Was the earth shaking again? Raul thought. Was everything to be lost?

Flames blazed over the dining room now; rifle shots came from the same direction. Petaca....

Petaca, 1619, Indian land, Medina land.... He began to run toward the back of the house, toward the _tienda de raya_, thinking he would get a rifle from the gun case and then find Manuel.

He ran inside, wrenched a carbine from the case and loaded his pockets with ammunition.

Petaca--the name sounded in his blood--they were burning Petaca, the mill, the dining room, then....

"Raul!"

It was Luis, waving a Winchester.

"Luis, get them out of the dining room. Come on, Luis!"

But the raiders were gone; there were only flames in the dining room.

Kerosene had been sloshed over the furniture and drapes and the conflagration roared, driving them outside.

Raul dashed for Manuel's room, his own armed men pa.s.sing him, headed for the walls and turrets.

"Save the house, the living room ... use dirt and sand ... beat out the fire!" he shouted, and wondered whether anyone heard him or cared.

Among the frightened horses, in the stable, he leaned over Manuel. A terrified horse had kicked him and knocked him unconscious. Raul brought water and rubbed a cold wet cloth over his face, arms, and chest.

"Manuel ... Manuel ... let's get out of here! Manuel ... are you badly hurt?"

"Raul..."

"Now, now can you sit up?"

"Raul--I was running toward the mill.... It's on fire," said Manuel, groaning, feeling his arms and chest, peering at Raul with eyes dulled by pain.

"Let's get out of the stable," said Raul.

Manuel struggled to his feet.

"Can you make it?"

"I'll make it. Where?"

"To the house ... they doused it with kerosene."

With other men they returned to the house and began to fight the fire in the dining room with sand and dirt, hauling and shoveling it from the second patio.

Manuel had armed himself at the _tienda_, as they pa.s.sed. In spite of the pain from his head injury, he helped haul sand. Raul and Salvador worked close to the dining-room door, throwing sand from buckets.

While they battled the blaze, men broke in the _tienda_ door and dumped kerosene over the desk and walls.

There, outside the _tienda_, they trapped Pedro.

Raul raised his rifle: the sight cleared the bandolier, raised to the shoulder, dropped lower: was this a man?

The trigger moved.

"Pedro, that's Pedro!" yelled Manuel.

The men were hurling burning wood away from the front of the _tienda_ and a flaming board fell across Pedro's body.

"Take the board off that man!" someone shouted.

"It's Pedro. He's dead," said Manuel.

"Pedro's dead!" shouted Salvador.

"Pedro's dead!" others shouted.

Rifle fire began all along the walls and soon men came and informed Raul that they had beaten off the attackers; presently, others reported that the dining-room fire had been extinguished ... ashen faces, wounded men ... Raul, his clothes ripped and filthy, stared at them.

They went up to a water pail and splashed and drank, saying little.

"Shall we take a look at the mill?" Raul asked Manuel.

"Yes ... yes."

Raul stood by the smoldering ashes a long time before he said: "The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, to burn it! They might better have stolen the corn and wheat. They could have eaten that. This way everybody loses!"