A Horse Called El Dorado Read Online Free PDF Page A

other men grabbed the guerrilla roughly. Someone took off the bandana from around his neck and stuck it in his mouth, in case he might shout. I jumped off El Dorado, who must have injured himself in the assault, for he limped and there was a slight bleed from one of his nostrils.
    I peered out through the trees at the terrible scene. There was very little left of the commune by now. Our village looked as if it had never existed. But now the tables had been turned. Hank was armed. He looked like a guerrilla himself in the brightening dawn.
    I cannot say that I clearly saw the shooting. I know that the men got some more rifles by force from the AGRA thugs. There was use of some machetes also, those sword-like knives. There was a lot of shouting; jeeps revved up and crashed. One was pushed into the river, and it quickly filled with water and sank.
    In the end, as with any battle, there was much death. I do not want to describe the horror of it. Three men from our village were killed in all the confusion. I had known them all my life. Five of the guerrillas were killed, three others shooting their way out of the battle and making off in one jeep, swearing revenge. Others ran off into the jungle. The man that El Dorado knocked to the ground was butchered with machetes. That was not a pretty sight.
    Then it was over. In the raw morning light, the men stood around surveying the carnage. Five men in the commune now held weapons. The women began to shout from across the river, trying to make themselvesheard. Mama was frantic until she saw me walk out, leading El Dorado. I raised my arm in salute to her. It was going to be a very sombre day, and the beginning of a period of grieving for loved ones.
    All that morning we launched the raft out across the river and back, bringing the women and children across in twos and threes. When they were all safely over, a communal meal was prepared and everyone who felt up to it ate hungrily. There was very little talking, although some of the men kept telling me that I had been very brave. ‘Crazy, but brave,’ is what Paul Rooke said.
    The next day we buried our dead with a display of flowers, incense, chanting and ceremony that had been used for kings in the olden days. There was no ceremony for the bodies of the guerrillas – they were simply shoved into the river. ‘Food for the crocodiles and fishes,’ I heard Hank say. With our new store of weapons there came a sense of security. One of the abandoned AGRA jeeps was found to contain a box of ammunition.
    The work on rebuilding the commune was delayed because of arguments among the adults. Some wanted to put the new huts in a different location. Others did not. Mama had a completely different plan.

Chapter 8
    It took many days to saw wood for the new huts and a new bridge. In the meantime, everyone slept under rough shelters of woven branches and leaves, while a few of the men took turns to keep watch for AGRA. The five guns were our safety, even though the use of violence was against the principles of the commune.
    I found the rebuilding of the bridge exciting. The activity helped me to forget the awful events that had happened. One of the men rode on horseback to El Encanto for rope, nails and pulleys. All of this was paid for on credit. The commune had decided not to touch the store of banknotes that I had hidden in the secret tree. They wanted to live on credit in case word got around that the commune had large sums of money. Everyone worked long hours, sawing, measuring and nailing, and soon the bridge was finished.
    From now on, I slept in the big hut across the river with the women and other children. The men stayed on the commune side every night and were quite brazen now that they were armed. I was yawning one night as I slouched towards the bridge when I heard the men say that if the guerrillas came they would meet heavyresistance. If necessary, a retreat would be made across the river for the extra hidden supply of