[IV].

When Lelis Piedades, the Baron de Canabrava's barrister, officially notified the Tribunal of Salvador that the hacienda of Canudos had been invaded by thugs, the Counselor had been there for three months. The news soon spread throughout the sertao sertao: the saint who had wandered the length and breadth of the land for a quarter of a century had put down roots in that place surrounded by stony hills called Canudos, after the pipes made of canudos- canudos-segments of sugarcane stalk-that the people who lived there used to smoke. The place was known to cowhands, for they often stopped with their cattle for the night on the banks of the Vaza-Barris. In the following weeks and months groups of the curious, of sinners, of the sick, of vagrants, of fugitives from justice, come from the North, the South, the East, and the West, were seen heading for Canudos with the presentiment or the hope that they would there find forgiveness, refuge, health, happiness.

On the morning after he and his followers arrived, the Counselor began to build a Temple, which, he said, would be made all of stone, with two very tall towers, and would be dedicated to the Blessed Jesus. He decided that it would be erected opposite the old Church of Santo Antonio, the chapel of the hacienda. "Let the rich raise their hands," he said, preaching by the light of a bonfire in the town going up. "I raise mine. Because I am a son of G.o.d, who has given me an immortal soul that can earn heaven, the only true wealth, for itself. I raise them because the Father has made me poor in this life so that I may be rich in the next. Let the rich raise their hands!" In the shadows full of sparks a forest of upraised arms emerged then from amid the rags and the leather and the threadbare cotton blouses. They prayed before and after he gave his counsel and held processions amid the half-finished dwellings and the shelters made of bits of cloth and planks where they slept, and in the back-country night they could be heard shouting, Long live the Virgin and the Blessed Jesus and death to the Can and the Antichrist. A man from Mirandela, who made fireworks and set them off at fairs-Antonio the Pyrotechnist-was one of the first pilgrims to arrive, and from that time on, whenever there were processions in Canudos, set pieces were ignited and skyrockets burst overhead.

The Counselor directed the work on the Temple, with the advice and a.s.sistance of a master mason who had helped him restore many chapels and build the Church of the Blessed Jesus in Crisopolis from the ground up, and designated the penitents who would go out to quarry stones, sift sand, and haul timber. In the early evening, after a frugal meal-if he was not fasting-consisting of a crust of bread, a piece of fruit, a mouthful of boiled manioc, and a few sips of water, the Counselor welcomed the newcomers, exhorted the others to be hospitable, and after the Credo, the Our Father, and the Ave Marias, his eloquent voice preached austerity, mortification, abstinence to all of them and shared visions with them that resembled the stories recounted by the cantadores cantadores who wandered over the countryside reciting their traditional tales. The end was near-it could be seen as clearly as Canudos from the heights of A Favela. The Republic would keep on sending hordes with uniforms and rifles to try to capture him, in order to keep him from talking to the needy, but no matter how much blood he might cause to flow, the Dog would not bite Jesus. There would be a flood and then an earthquake. An eclipse would plunge the world into such total darkness that everything would have to be done by touch, as blind people do, while in the distance the battle resounded. Thousands would die of panic. But when the mists dispersed, one bright clear dawn, the men and women would see the army of Dom Sebastiao all round them on the hills and slopes of Canudos. The great King would have defeated the Can's bands, would have cleansed the world for the Lord. They would see Dom Sebastiao, with his shining armor and his sword; they would see his kindly, adolescent face, he would smile at them from astride his mount with diamond-studded gold trappings, and they would see him ride off, his mission of redemption fulfilled, to return with his army to the bottom of the sea. who wandered over the countryside reciting their traditional tales. The end was near-it could be seen as clearly as Canudos from the heights of A Favela. The Republic would keep on sending hordes with uniforms and rifles to try to capture him, in order to keep him from talking to the needy, but no matter how much blood he might cause to flow, the Dog would not bite Jesus. There would be a flood and then an earthquake. An eclipse would plunge the world into such total darkness that everything would have to be done by touch, as blind people do, while in the distance the battle resounded. Thousands would die of panic. But when the mists dispersed, one bright clear dawn, the men and women would see the army of Dom Sebastiao all round them on the hills and slopes of Canudos. The great King would have defeated the Can's bands, would have cleansed the world for the Lord. They would see Dom Sebastiao, with his shining armor and his sword; they would see his kindly, adolescent face, he would smile at them from astride his mount with diamond-studded gold trappings, and they would see him ride off, his mission of redemption fulfilled, to return with his army to the bottom of the sea.

The tanners, the sharecroppers, the healers, the peddlers, the laundresses, the midwives, and the beggar women who had reached Canudos after many days and nights of journeying, with their worldly goods in a canvas-covered cart or on the back of a burro, and who were there now, squatting in the dark, listening and wanting to believe, felt their eyes grow damp. They prayed and sang with the same conviction as the Counselor's earliest followers; those who did not know them very soon learned the prayers, the hymns, the truths. Antonio Vilanova, the storekeeper of Canudos, was one of the ones most eager to learn; at night he took long walks along the banks of the river or past the newly sown fields with the Little Blessed One, who patiently explained the commandments and prohibitions of religion, which Antonio then taught to his brother Honorio, his wife Antonia, his sister-in-law a.s.suncao, and the children of the two couples.

There was no shortage of food. They had grain, vegetables, meat, and since there was water in the Vaza-Barris they could plant crops. Those who arrived brought provisions with them and other towns often sent them poultry, rabbits, pigs, feed, goats. The Counselor asked Antonio Vilanova to store the food and see to it that it was distributed fairly among the dest.i.tute. Without specific directives, but in accordance with the Counselor's teachings, life in Canudos was gradually becoming organized, though not without snags. The Little Blessed One took charge of instructing the pilgrims who arrived and receiving their donations, provided they were not donations of money. If they wanted to donate reis of the Republic, they were obliged to go to c.u.mbe or Juazeiro, escorted by Abbot Joao or Pajeu, who knew how to fight and could protect them, to spend them on things for the Temple: shovels, stonecutters, hammers, plumb lines, high-quality timber, statues of saints, and crucifixes. Mother Maria Quadrado placed in a gla.s.s case the rings, earrings, brooches, necklaces, combs, old coins, or simple clay or bone ornaments that the pilgrims offered, and this treasure was exhibited in the Church of Santo Antonio each time that Father Joaquim, from c.u.mbe, or another parish priest from the region, came to say Ma.s.s, confess, baptize, and marry people in Canudos. These were always times for celebration. Two fugitives from justice, Big Joao and Pedrao, the strongest men in Canudos, bossed the gangs that hauled stones for the Temple from nearby quarries. Catarina, Abbot Joao's wife, and Alexandrinha Correa, a woman from c.u.mbe who, it was said, had worked miracles, prepared the food for the construction workers. Life was far from being perfect, with no complications. Even though the Counselor preached against gambling, tobacco, and alcohol, there were those who gambled, smoked, and drank cane brandy, and when Canudos began to grow, there were rights over women, thefts, drinking bouts, and even knifings. But these things were much less of a problem here than elsewhere and happened on the periphery of the active, fraternal, fervent, ascetic center const.i.tuted by the Counselor and his disciples.

The Counselor had not forbidden the womenfolk to adorn themselves, but he said countless times that any woman who cared a great deal about her body might well neglect to care for her soul, and that, as with Lucifer, a beautiful outward appearance might well hide a filthy and loathsome spirit: the colors of the dresses of young women and old alike gradually became more and more drab; little by little the hemlines reached ankle length, the necklines climbed higher and higher, and they became looser and looser, so that finally they looked like nuns' habits. Along with low necklines, adornments and even ribbons to tie back their hair disappeared; the women now wore it loose or hidden beneath large kerchiefs. On occasion there was trouble involving "the magdalenes," those lost women who, despite having come to Canudos at the cost of many sacrifices and having kissed the Counselor's feet begging for forgiveness, were hara.s.sed by intolerant women who wanted to make them wear combs of thorns as proof that they had repented.

But, in general, life was peaceful and a spirit of collaboration reigned among the inhabitants. One source of problems was the ban against money of the Republic: anyone caught using it for any transaction had all of it he possessed taken away from him by the Counselor's men, who then forced him to leave Canudos. Trade was carried on with coins bearing the effigy of the Emperor Dom Pedro or of his daughter, Princess Isabel, but since they were scarce the bartering of products and services became the general rule. Raw brown sugar was exchanged for rope sandals, chickens for herb cures, manioc flour for horseshoes, roof tiles for lengths of cloth, hammocks for machetes, and work, in the fields, in dwellings, in animal pens, was repaid with work. No one charged for the time and labor spent for the Blessed Jesus. Besides the Temple, dwellings were constructed that later came to be known as the Health Houses, where lodging, food, and care began to be given to the sick, to old people, and to orphaned children. Maria Quadrado was in charge of this task at first, but once the Sanctuary was built-a little two-room mud hut with a straw roof-so that the Counselor could have just a few hours' respite from the pilgrims who hounded him night and day, and the Mother of Men devoted all her time to him, the Health Houses were run by the Sardelinha sisters, Antonia and a.s.suncao, the wives of the Vilanova brothers. There were quarrels over the tillable plots of land along the Vaza-Barris, which were gradually occupied by the pilgrims who settled in Canudos and which others disputed their right to. Antonia Vilanova, the storekeeper, settled all such questions. By order of the Counselor, it was he who gave out parcels of land for newcomers to build their dwellings on and set aside land for pens for the animals that believers sent or brought as gifts, and he who acted as judge when quarrels over goods and property arose. There were not very many such quarrels, in fact, since people who came to Canudos had not been drawn there by greed or by the idea of material prosperity. The life of the community was devoted to spiritual activities: prayers, funerals, fasts, processions, the building of the Temple of the Blessed Jesus, and above all the evening counsels that often lasted until far into the night. During those everything else in Canudos came to a halt.

To publicize the fiesta it has organized, the Progressivist Republican Party has plastered the walls of Queimadas with posters reading A UNITED BRAZIL, A STRONG NATION A UNITED BRAZIL, A STRONG NATION and with the name of Epaminondas Goncalves. But in his room in the Our Lady of Grace boarding house, Galileo Gall is not thinking of the political celebration taking place outside with great pomp and ceremony in the stifling heat of midday, but of the contradictory apt.i.tudes that he has discovered in Rufino. "It's a most unusual combination," he thinks. Orientation and Concentration are closely akin, naturally, and it would be quite usual to find them in someone who spends his life wandering all over this immense region, guiding travelers, hunters, convoys, serving as a courier, or tracking down lost cattle. But what about Imaginativeness? How to account for the propensity for fantasy, delirium, unreality, typical of artists and impractical people, in an individual in whom everything points to the materialist, to the man with his feet on the ground, to the pragmatist? Nonetheless, that is what his bones indicate: Orientivity and Concentrativity, Imaginativeness. Galileo Gall discovered it almost the very first moment that he was able to palpate the guide. He thinks: "It's an absurd, incompatible combination. How can a person be at one and the same time the soul of modesty and an exhibitionist, miserly and prodigal?" and with the name of Epaminondas Goncalves. But in his room in the Our Lady of Grace boarding house, Galileo Gall is not thinking of the political celebration taking place outside with great pomp and ceremony in the stifling heat of midday, but of the contradictory apt.i.tudes that he has discovered in Rufino. "It's a most unusual combination," he thinks. Orientation and Concentration are closely akin, naturally, and it would be quite usual to find them in someone who spends his life wandering all over this immense region, guiding travelers, hunters, convoys, serving as a courier, or tracking down lost cattle. But what about Imaginativeness? How to account for the propensity for fantasy, delirium, unreality, typical of artists and impractical people, in an individual in whom everything points to the materialist, to the man with his feet on the ground, to the pragmatist? Nonetheless, that is what his bones indicate: Orientivity and Concentrativity, Imaginativeness. Galileo Gall discovered it almost the very first moment that he was able to palpate the guide. He thinks: "It's an absurd, incompatible combination. How can a person be at one and the same time the soul of modesty and an exhibitionist, miserly and prodigal?"

He is leaning over a pail washing his face, between part.i.tion walls covered with graffiti, newspaper clippings with pictures of an opera performance, and a broken mirror. Coffee-colored c.o.c.kroaches appear and disappear through the cracks in the floor and there is a little petrified lizard on the ceiling. The only furniture is a broken-down bed with no sheets. The festive atmosphere enters the room through a latticed window: voices amplified by a loudspeaker, clashes of cymbals, drumrolls, and the jabbering of kids flying kites. Someone is alternating attacks on the Bahia Autonomist Party, Governor Luiz Viana, the Baron de Canabrava, and praise for Epaminondas Goncalves and the Progressivist Republican Party.

Galileo Gall goes on washing himself, indifferent to the hubbub outside. Once he has finished, he dries his face with his shirt and collapses on the bed, face up, with one arm under his head for a pillow. He looks at the c.o.c.kroaches, the lizard. He thinks: "Silence against impatience." He has been in Queimadas for eight days now, and although he is a man who knows how to wait, he has begun to feel a certain anxiety: that is what has led him to ask Rufino to let him palpate his head. It was not easy to talk him into it, for the guide is a mistrustful sort and Gall remembers that he could feel as he palpated him how tense the man was, all ready to leap on him. They have seen each other every day, understand each other without difficulty now, and to pa.s.s the time as he is waiting, Galileo has studied his behavior, taking notes on him: "He reads the sky, the trees, the earth, as though they were a book; he is a man of simple, inflexible ideas, with a strict code of honor and a morality whose source has been his commerce with nature and with men, not book learning, since he does not know how to read, or religion, since he does not appear to be a very firm believer." All of this coincides with what his fingers have felt, except for the Imaginativeness. In what way does it manifest itself, why has he failed to notice any of its signs in Rufino in these eight days, either while he was making a deal with him to guide him to Canudos, or in Rufino's shack on the outskirts of town, or in the railway station having a cool drink together, or walking from one tannery to another along the banks of the Itapicuru? In Jurema, the guide's wife, on the other hand, this pernicious, anti-scientific inclination-to leave the domain of experience to immerse oneself in phantasmagoria, in daydreaming-is obvious. For despite the fact that she is very reserved in his presence, Galileo has heard Jurema tell the story of the wooden statue of St. Anthony that is on the main altar of the church in Queimadas. "It was found in a cave, years ago, and taken to the church. The next day it disappeared and turned up again in the grotto. It was tied to the altar so that it wouldn't make its escape, but it managed nonetheless to go back to the cave. And things went on like that, with the statue going back and forth, till a Holy Mission with four Capuchin Fathers and the archbishop came to Queimadas, dedicated the church to St. Anthony, and renamed the town Santo Antonio das Queimadas in honor of the saint. It was only then that the image stayed quietly on the altar, where people today light candles to it." Galileo Gall remembers that when he asked Rufino if he believed the story that his wife had told, the tracker shrugged and smiled skeptically. Jurema, however, believed it. Galileo would have liked to palpate her head too, but he didn't even try to do so; he is certain that the mere idea of a stranger touching his wife's head must be inconceivable to Rufino. Yes, Rufino is beyond question a suspicious man. It has been hard work getting him to agree to take him to Canudos. He has haggled over the price, raised objections, hesitated, and though he has finally given in, Galileo has noted that he is ill at ease when he talks to him about the Counselor and the jaguncos jaguncos.

Without realizing it, his attention has wandered from Rufino to the voice coming from outside: "Regional autonomy and decentralization are pretexts being used by Governor Viana, the Baron de Canabrava, and their henchmen in order to preserve their privileges and keep Bahia from becoming as modern as the other states of Brazil. Who are the Autonomists? Monarchists lying in ambush who, if it weren't for us, would revive the corrupt Empire and kill the Republic! But Epaminondas Goncalves's Progressivist Republican Party will keep them from doing so..." The man speaking now is not the same one as before, this one is clearer, Galileo understands everything he says, and he even seems to have some idea in mind, whereas his predecessor merely shrieked and howled. Should he go take a look out the window? No, he doesn't move from the bed; he is certain the spectacle is still the same: knots of curious bystanders wandering from one food and drink stand to another, listening to the cantadores cantadores reciting stories, or gathering round the man on stilts who is telling fortunes, and from time to time deigning to stop for a moment to gawk but not to listen in front of the small platform from which the Progressivist Republican Party is churning out its propaganda, protected by thugs with shotguns. "They're wise to be so indifferent," Galileo Gall thinks. What good is it for the people of Queimadas to know that the Baron de Canabrava's Autonomist Party is against the centralist system of the Republican Party and to know that this latter is combatting the decentralism and the federalism advocated by its adversary? Do the rhetorical quarrels of bourgeois political parties have anything to do with the interests of the humble and downtrodden? They are right to enjoy the festivities and pay no attention to what the politicos on the platform are saying. The evening before, Galileo has detected a certain excitement in Queimadas, not because of the festival organized by the Progressivist Republican Party but because people were wondering whether the Baron de Canabrava's Autonomist Party would send thugs to wreck their enemies' spectacle and there would be shooting, as had happened at other times in the past. It is mid-morning now, this hasn't happened and no doubt will not happen. Why would they bother to break up a meeting so sadly lacking popular support? The thought occurs to Gall that the fiestas organized by the Autonomists must be exactly like the one taking place outside his window. No, this is not where the real politics of Bahia, of Brazil, is taking place. He thinks: "It is taking place up there, among those who are not even aware that they are the real politicians of this country." Will he have to wait much longer? Galileo Gall sits down on the bed. He murmurs: "Science against impatience." He opens the small valise lying on the floor, pushes aside clothing, a revolver, removes the little book in which he has taken notes on the tanneries of Queimadas, where he has idled away a few hours in these last eight days, and leafs through what he has written: "Brick buildings, roofs of round tiles, roughhewn columns. Scattered about everywhere, bundles of reciting stories, or gathering round the man on stilts who is telling fortunes, and from time to time deigning to stop for a moment to gawk but not to listen in front of the small platform from which the Progressivist Republican Party is churning out its propaganda, protected by thugs with shotguns. "They're wise to be so indifferent," Galileo Gall thinks. What good is it for the people of Queimadas to know that the Baron de Canabrava's Autonomist Party is against the centralist system of the Republican Party and to know that this latter is combatting the decentralism and the federalism advocated by its adversary? Do the rhetorical quarrels of bourgeois political parties have anything to do with the interests of the humble and downtrodden? They are right to enjoy the festivities and pay no attention to what the politicos on the platform are saying. The evening before, Galileo has detected a certain excitement in Queimadas, not because of the festival organized by the Progressivist Republican Party but because people were wondering whether the Baron de Canabrava's Autonomist Party would send thugs to wreck their enemies' spectacle and there would be shooting, as had happened at other times in the past. It is mid-morning now, this hasn't happened and no doubt will not happen. Why would they bother to break up a meeting so sadly lacking popular support? The thought occurs to Gall that the fiestas organized by the Autonomists must be exactly like the one taking place outside his window. No, this is not where the real politics of Bahia, of Brazil, is taking place. He thinks: "It is taking place up there, among those who are not even aware that they are the real politicians of this country." Will he have to wait much longer? Galileo Gall sits down on the bed. He murmurs: "Science against impatience." He opens the small valise lying on the floor, pushes aside clothing, a revolver, removes the little book in which he has taken notes on the tanneries of Queimadas, where he has idled away a few hours in these last eight days, and leafs through what he has written: "Brick buildings, roofs of round tiles, roughhewn columns. Scattered about everywhere, bundles of angico angico bark, scored through with the aid of a hammer and a knife. They toss the bark, scored through with the aid of a hammer and a knife. They toss the angico angico into tanks full of river water. After removing the hair from the hides they submerge them in the tanks and leave them to soak for eight days or so, the time required to tan them. The bark of the tree called into tanks full of river water. After removing the hair from the hides they submerge them in the tanks and leave them to soak for eight days or so, the time required to tan them. The bark of the tree called angico angico gives off tannin, the substance that tans them. They then hang the hides in the shade till they dry, and sc.r.a.pe them with a knife to remove any residue left on them. They treat in this way the hides of cattle, sheep, goats, rabbits, deer, foxes, and jaguars. gives off tannin, the substance that tans them. They then hang the hides in the shade till they dry, and sc.r.a.pe them with a knife to remove any residue left on them. They treat in this way the hides of cattle, sheep, goats, rabbits, deer, foxes, and jaguars. Angico Angico is blood-red, with a strong odor. The tanneries are primitive family enterprises in which the father, the mother, the sons, and dose relatives work. Rawhide is the princ.i.p.al wealth of Queimadas." He puts the little notebook back in the valise. The tanners were friendly, explained to him how they went about their work. Why is it that they are so reluctant to talk about Canudos? Do they mistrust someone whose Portuguese they find it difficult to understand? He knows that Canudos and the Counselor are the main topic of conversation in Queimadas. Despite all his efforts, however, he has not been able to discuss the subject with anyone, not even Rufino and Jurema. In the tanneries, in the railway station, in the Our Lady of Grace boarding house, in the public square of Queimadas, the moment he has brought the subject up he has seen the same wary look in everyone's eyes, the same silence has fallen, or the same evasive answers been offered. "They're on their guard. They're mistrustful," he thinks. He thinks: "They know what they're doing. They're canny." is blood-red, with a strong odor. The tanneries are primitive family enterprises in which the father, the mother, the sons, and dose relatives work. Rawhide is the princ.i.p.al wealth of Queimadas." He puts the little notebook back in the valise. The tanners were friendly, explained to him how they went about their work. Why is it that they are so reluctant to talk about Canudos? Do they mistrust someone whose Portuguese they find it difficult to understand? He knows that Canudos and the Counselor are the main topic of conversation in Queimadas. Despite all his efforts, however, he has not been able to discuss the subject with anyone, not even Rufino and Jurema. In the tanneries, in the railway station, in the Our Lady of Grace boarding house, in the public square of Queimadas, the moment he has brought the subject up he has seen the same wary look in everyone's eyes, the same silence has fallen, or the same evasive answers been offered. "They're on their guard. They're mistrustful," he thinks. He thinks: "They know what they're doing. They're canny."

He digs about among his clothes and the revolver once again and takes out the only book in the little valise. It is an old, dog-eared copy, whose vellum binding has turned dark, so that the name of Pierre Joseph Proudhon is scarcely legible now, but whose t.i.tle, Systeme des contradictions Systeme des contradictions, is still clear, as is the name of the city where it was printed: Lyons. Distracted by the hubbub of the fiesta and above all by his treacherous impatience, he does not manage to concentrate his mind for long on his reading. Clenching his teeth, he then forces himself to reflect on objective things. A man who is not interested in general problems or ideas lives cloistered in Particularity, which can be recognized by the curvature of two protruding, almost sharp-pointed little bones behind his ears. Did he feel them on Rufino's head? Does Imaginativeness, perhaps, manifest itself in the strange sense of honor, in what might be called the ethical imagination, of the man who is about to take him to Canudos?

His first memories, which were to become the best ones and the ones that came back most readily as well, were neither of his mother, who abandoned him to run after a sergeant in the National Guard who pa.s.sed through Custodia at the head of a flying brigade that was chasing cangaceiros cangaceiros, nor of his father, whom he never knew, nor of the aunt and uncle who took him in and brought him up-Ze Faustino and Dona Angela-nor of the thirty-some huts and sun-baked streets of Custodia, but of the wandering minstrels. They came to town every so often, to enliven wedding parties, or heading for the roundup-time fiesta at a hacienda or the festival with which a town celebrated its patron saint's day, and for a few slugs of cane brandy and a plate of jerky and farofa- farofa-manioc flour toasted in olive oil-they told the stories of Olivier, of the Princess Maguelone, of Charlemagne and the Twelve Peers of France. Joao listened to them open-eyed, his lips moving with the cantadores cantadores'. Afterward he had splendid dreams resounding with the clashing of lances of the knights doing battle to save Christianity from the pagan hordes.

But the story that came to be the flesh of his flesh was that of Robert the Devil, the son of the Duke of Normandy who, after committing all manner of evil deeds, repented and went about on all fours, barking instead of speaking, and sleeping with the animals, until, having been granted the mercy of the Blessed Jesus, he saved the Emperor from attack by the Moors and married the Queen of Brazil. The youngster insisted that the cantadores cantadores tell it without omitting a single detail: how, in his days of wickedness, Robert the Devil had plunged his knife with the curved blade into countless throats of damsels and hermits simply for the pleasure of seeing them suffer, and how, in his days as a servant of G.o.d, he wandered far and wide in search of his victims' kin, kissing their feet when he found them and begging them to torture him. The townspeople of Custodia thought that Joao would one day be a backlands minstrel, going from town to town with his guitar on his shoulder, bringing messages and making people happy with his songs and tales. tell it without omitting a single detail: how, in his days of wickedness, Robert the Devil had plunged his knife with the curved blade into countless throats of damsels and hermits simply for the pleasure of seeing them suffer, and how, in his days as a servant of G.o.d, he wandered far and wide in search of his victims' kin, kissing their feet when he found them and begging them to torture him. The townspeople of Custodia thought that Joao would one day be a backlands minstrel, going from town to town with his guitar on his shoulder, bringing messages and making people happy with his songs and tales.

Joao helped Ze Faustino in his store, which supplied the whole countryside round about with cloth, grain, things to drink, farm tools, sweets, and trinkets. Ze Faustino traveled about a great deal, taking merchandise to the haciendas or going to the city to buy it, and in his absence Dona Angela minded the store, a hut of kneaded mud with a poultry yard. The woman had made her nephew the object of all the affection that she was unable to give the children she had not had. She had made Joao promise that he would take her to Salvador someday so that she might throw herself at the feet of the miraculous statue of O Senhor de Bonfim, of whom she had a collection of colored prints pinned above the head of her bed.

As much as drought and epidemics, the inhabitants of Custodia feared two other calamities that impoverished the town: cangaceiros cangaceiros and flying brigades of the National Guard. In the beginning the former had been bands gotten together from among their peons and kinfolk by the "colonels" who owned haciendas, to settle by force the quarrels that broke out among them over property boundaries, water rights, and grazing lands, or over conflicting political ambitions, but as time went by, many of these bands armed with blunderbusses and machetes had freed themselves from the "colonels" who had organized them and had begun running about loose, living by killing, robbing, and plundering. The flying brigades had come into being in order to combat them. and flying brigades of the National Guard. In the beginning the former had been bands gotten together from among their peons and kinfolk by the "colonels" who owned haciendas, to settle by force the quarrels that broke out among them over property boundaries, water rights, and grazing lands, or over conflicting political ambitions, but as time went by, many of these bands armed with blunderbusses and machetes had freed themselves from the "colonels" who had organized them and had begun running about loose, living by killing, robbing, and plundering. The flying brigades had come into being in order to combat them. Cangaceiros Cangaceiros and flying brigades alike ate up the provisions of the townspeople of Custodia, got drunk on their cane brandy, and tried to rape their women. Before he even reached the age of reason, Joao had learned that the moment the warning shout was given all the bottles, food, and merchandise in the store had to be stowed away immediately in the hiding places that Ze Faustino had readied. The rumor went around that the storekeeper was a and flying brigades alike ate up the provisions of the townspeople of Custodia, got drunk on their cane brandy, and tried to rape their women. Before he even reached the age of reason, Joao had learned that the moment the warning shout was given all the bottles, food, and merchandise in the store had to be stowed away immediately in the hiding places that Ze Faustino had readied. The rumor went around that the storekeeper was a coiteiro- coiteiro-a man who did business with the bandits and provided them with information and hiding places. He was furious. Hadn't people seen how they robbed his store? Didn't they make off with clothes and tobacco without paying a cent? Joao heard his uncle complain many times about these stupid stories that the people of Custodia made up about him, out of envy. "If they keep on, they're going to get me into trouble," he would mutter. And that was exactly what happened.

One morning a flying brigade of thirty guards arrived in Custodia, under the command of Second Lieutenant Geraldo Macedo, a young Indian half-breed known far and wide for his bloodthirstiness. They were chasing down Antonia Silvino's gang of outlaws. The cangaceiros cangaceiros had not pa.s.sed through Custodia, but the lieutenant stubbornly insisted that they had. He was tall and solidly built, slightly cross-eyed, and forever licking a gold tooth that he had. It was said that he chased down bandits so mercilessly because they had raped a sweetheart of his. As his men searched the huts, the lieutenant personally interrogated everyone in town. As night was falling, he strode into the store, beaming in triumph, and ordered Ze Faustina to take him to Silvino's hideout. Before the storekeeper could answer, he cuffed him so hard he sent him sprawling. "I know everything, you Christian dog. People have informed on you." Neither Ze Faustino's protestations of innocence nor Dona Angela's pleas were of any avail. Lieutenant Macedo said that as a warning to had not pa.s.sed through Custodia, but the lieutenant stubbornly insisted that they had. He was tall and solidly built, slightly cross-eyed, and forever licking a gold tooth that he had. It was said that he chased down bandits so mercilessly because they had raped a sweetheart of his. As his men searched the huts, the lieutenant personally interrogated everyone in town. As night was falling, he strode into the store, beaming in triumph, and ordered Ze Faustina to take him to Silvino's hideout. Before the storekeeper could answer, he cuffed him so hard he sent him sprawling. "I know everything, you Christian dog. People have informed on you." Neither Ze Faustino's protestations of innocence nor Dona Angela's pleas were of any avail. Lieutenant Macedo said that as a warning to coiteiros coiteiros he'd shoot Ze Faustino at dawn if he didn't reveal Silvino's whereabouts. The storekeeper finally appeared to agree to do so. At dawn the next morning they left Custodia, with Ze Faustino leading the way, followed by Macedo's thirty men, who were certain that they were going to take the bandits by surprise. But Ze Faustino managed to shake them after a few hours' march and hurried back to Custodia to get Dona Angela and Joao and take them off with him, fearing that they would be made the target of reprisals. The lieutenant caught him as he was still packing a few things. He may have intended to kill only him, but he also shot Dona Angela to death when she tried to intervene. He grabbed Joao by the legs and knocked him out with one blow across the head with the barrel of his pistol. When Joao came to, he saw that the townspeople of Custodia were there, holding a wake over two coffins, with looks of remorse on their faces. He turned a deaf ear to their words of affection, and as he rubbed his hand over his bleeding face he told them, in a voice that suddenly was that of an adult-he was only twelve years old at the time-that he would come back someday to avenge his aunt and uncle, since those who were mourning them were their real murderers. he'd shoot Ze Faustino at dawn if he didn't reveal Silvino's whereabouts. The storekeeper finally appeared to agree to do so. At dawn the next morning they left Custodia, with Ze Faustino leading the way, followed by Macedo's thirty men, who were certain that they were going to take the bandits by surprise. But Ze Faustino managed to shake them after a few hours' march and hurried back to Custodia to get Dona Angela and Joao and take them off with him, fearing that they would be made the target of reprisals. The lieutenant caught him as he was still packing a few things. He may have intended to kill only him, but he also shot Dona Angela to death when she tried to intervene. He grabbed Joao by the legs and knocked him out with one blow across the head with the barrel of his pistol. When Joao came to, he saw that the townspeople of Custodia were there, holding a wake over two coffins, with looks of remorse on their faces. He turned a deaf ear to their words of affection, and as he rubbed his hand over his bleeding face he told them, in a voice that suddenly was that of an adult-he was only twelve years old at the time-that he would come back someday to avenge his aunt and uncle, since those who were mourning them were their real murderers.

The thought of vengeance helped him survive the weeks he spent wandering aimlessly about a desert wasteland bristling with mandacarus mandacarus. He could see black vultures circling overhead, waiting for him to collapse so as to fly down and tear him to bits. It was January, and not a drop of rain had fallen. Joao gathered dried fruits, sucked the sap of palm trees, and even ate a dead armadillo he found. Finally help was forthcoming from a goatherd who came upon him lying alongside a dry riverbed in a delirium, raving about lances, horses, and O Senhor de Bonfim. He revived him with a big cupful of milk and a few handfuls of raw brown sugar lumps that the youngster sucked. They journeyed on together for several days, heading for the high plateau of Angostura, where the goatherd was taking his flock. But, before they reached it, they were surprised late one afternoon by a party of men who could not be mistaken for anything but outlaws, with leather hats, cartridge belts made of jaguar skin, knapsacks embroidered with beads, blunderbusses slung over their shoulders, and machetes that hung down to their knees. There were six of them, and the leader, a cafuzo cafuzo with kinky hair and a red bandanna around his neck, laughingly asked Joao, who had fallen to his knees and was begging him to take him with him, why he wanted to be a with kinky hair and a red bandanna around his neck, laughingly asked Joao, who had fallen to his knees and was begging him to take him with him, why he wanted to be a cangaceiro cangaceiro. "To kill National Guardsmen," the youngster answered.

For Joao, a life then began that made a man of him in a very short time-"an evil man," the people of the provinces that he traveled the length and breadth of in the next twenty years would add-as a hanger-on at first of parties of men whose clothes he washed, whose meals he prepared, whose b.u.t.tons he sewed back on, or whose lice he picked, and later on as an accomplice of their villainy, then after that as the best marksman, tracker, knife fighter, coverer of ground, and strategist of the cangaco cangaco, and finally as lieutenant and then leader of it. Before he was twenty-five, his was the head with the highest price on it in the barracks of Bahia, Pernambuco, O Piaui, and Ceara. His miraculous luck, which saved him from ambushes in which his comrades were killed or captured and which seemed to immunize him against bullets despite his daring, caused the story to go round that he had a pact with the Devil. Be that as it may, it was quite true that, unlike other men in the cangaco cangaco, who went around loaded down with holy medals, made the sign of the cross whenever they chanced upon a wayside cross or calvary, and at least once a year slipped into some town so that the priest could put their consciences at peace with G.o.d, Joao (who in the beginning had been called Joao the Kid, then Joao Faster-than-Lightning, then Joao the Quiet One, and was now called Satan Joao) appeared to be scornful of religion and resigned to going to h.e.l.l to pay for his countless heinous deeds.

An outlaw's life, the nephew of Ze Faustino and Dona Angela might have said, consisted of walking, fighting, and stealing. But above all of walking. How many hundreds of leagues were covered in these years by the strong, muscular, restless legs of this man who could walk for twenty hours at a stretch without tiring? They had walked up and down the sertao sertao in all directions, and no one knew better than they the folds in the hills, the tangles in the scrub, the meanders in the rivers, the caves in the mountains. These aimless wanderings across country in Indian file, trying to put distance between in all directions, and no one knew better than they the folds in the hills, the tangles in the scrub, the meanders in the rivers, the caves in the mountains. These aimless wanderings across country in Indian file, trying to put distance between cangaco cangaco and real or imaginary pursuers from the National Guard or to confuse them, were, in Joao's memory, a single, endless ramble through identical landscapes, disturbed now and again by the whine of bullets and the screams of the wounded, as they headed toward some vague place or obscure event that seemed to be awaiting them. and real or imaginary pursuers from the National Guard or to confuse them, were, in Joao's memory, a single, endless ramble through identical landscapes, disturbed now and again by the whine of bullets and the screams of the wounded, as they headed toward some vague place or obscure event that seemed to be awaiting them.

For a long time he thought that what lay in store for him was returning to Custodia to wreak his vengeance. Years after the death of his aunt and uncle, he stole into the hamlet of his childhood one moonlit night, leading a dozen men. Was this the journey's end they had been heading for all during the long, b.l.o.o.d.y trek? Drought had driven many families out of Custodia, but there were still a few huts with people living in them, and despite the fact that among the faces of the inhabitants, gummy-eyed with sleep, whom his men drove out into the street there were a number that Joao did not recognize, he exempted no one from punishment. The womenfolk, even the little girls and the very old ladies, were forced to dance with the cangaceiros cangaceiros, who had already drunk up all the alcohol in Custodia, while the townspeople sang and played guitars. Every so often, the women and girls were dragged to the closest hut and raped. Finally, one of the menfolk began to cry, out of helplessness or terror. Satan Joao thereupon plunged his knife into him and slit him wide open, the way a butcher slaughters a steer. This bloodshed had the effect of an order, and shortly thereafter the cangaceiros cangaceiros, crazed with excitement, began to shoot off their blunderbusses, not stopping till they had turned the one street in Custodia into a graveyard. Even more than the wholesale killing, what contributed to the forging of the legend of Satan Joao was the fact that he humiliated each of the males personally after they were dead, cutting off their t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es and stuffing them into their mouths (this was his usual procedure with police informers). As they were leaving Custodia, he had one of the men in his band scribble on a wall the words: "My aunt and uncle have collected the debt that was owed them."

How much truth was there in the stories of atrocities attributed to Satan Joao? For that many fires, kidnappings, sackings, tortures to have been committed would have required more lives and henchmen than Joao's thirty years on this earth and the bands under his command, which never numbered as many as twenty men. What contributed to his fame was the fact that, unlike other leaders of cangacos cangacos, Pajeu for instance, who compensated for the blood they shed by sudden bursts of generosity-sharing booty they had just taken among the poor of the place, forcing a landowner to open his storerooms to the sharecroppers, handing over all of a ransom extorted from a victim to some parish priest so that he might build a chapel, or paying the expenses of the feast in honor of the patron saint of a town-no one had ever heard of Joao's making such gestures with the intention of winning people's sympathies or the blessings of heaven. Neither of these two things mattered to him.

He was a robust man, taller than the average in the sertao sertao, with burnished skin, prominent cheekbones, slanted eyes, a broad forehead, laconic, a fatalist, who had pals and subordinates but no friends. He did have a woman, a girl from Quixeramobim whom he had met because she washed clothes in the house of a hacienda owner who served as coiteiro coiteiro for the band. Her name was Leopoldina, and she was round-faced, with expressive eyes and a firm, ample body. She lived with Joao during the time he remained in hiding at the hacienda and when he took off again she left with him. But she did not accompany him for long, because Joao would not allow women in the band. He installed her in Aracati, where he came to see her every so often. He did not marry her, so that when people found out that Leopoldina had run away from Aracati to Jeremoabo with a judge, they thought that the offense to Joao was not as serious as it would have been if she were his wife. Joao avenged himself as though she were. He went to Quixeramobim, cut off her ears, branded Leopoldina's two brothers, and carried her thirteen-year-old sister, Mariquinha, off with him. The girl appeared early one morning in the streets of Jeremoabo with her face branded with the initials S and J. She was pregnant and there was a sign around her neck explaining that all the men of the band were, collectively, the baby's father. for the band. Her name was Leopoldina, and she was round-faced, with expressive eyes and a firm, ample body. She lived with Joao during the time he remained in hiding at the hacienda and when he took off again she left with him. But she did not accompany him for long, because Joao would not allow women in the band. He installed her in Aracati, where he came to see her every so often. He did not marry her, so that when people found out that Leopoldina had run away from Aracati to Jeremoabo with a judge, they thought that the offense to Joao was not as serious as it would have been if she were his wife. Joao avenged himself as though she were. He went to Quixeramobim, cut off her ears, branded Leopoldina's two brothers, and carried her thirteen-year-old sister, Mariquinha, off with him. The girl appeared early one morning in the streets of Jeremoabo with her face branded with the initials S and J. She was pregnant and there was a sign around her neck explaining that all the men of the band were, collectively, the baby's father.

Other bandits dreamed of getting together enough reis to buy themselves some land in a remote township where they could live for the rest of their lives under another name. Joao was never one to put money aside or make plans for the future. When the cangaco cangaco attacked a general store or a hamlet or obtained a good ransom for somebody it had kidnapped, after setting aside the share of the spoils that he would hand over to the attacked a general store or a hamlet or obtained a good ransom for somebody it had kidnapped, after setting aside the share of the spoils that he would hand over to the coiteiros coiteiros he'd commissioned to buy him weapons, ammunition, and medicines, Joao would divide the rest into equal shares for himself and each of his comrades. This largesse, his cleverness at setting up ambushes for the flying brigades or escaping from those that were set up for him, his courage and his ability to impose discipline made his men as faithful as hound dogs to him. They felt safe with him, and fairly treated. Even though he never forced them to face any risk that he himself did not confront, he did not coddle them in the slightest. If they fell asleep on guard duty, lagged behind on a march, or stole from a comrade, he flogged them. If one of them retreated when he had given orders to stand and fight, he marked him with his initials or lopped off one of his ears. He administered all punishments himself, coldly. And he was also the one who castrated traitors. he'd commissioned to buy him weapons, ammunition, and medicines, Joao would divide the rest into equal shares for himself and each of his comrades. This largesse, his cleverness at setting up ambushes for the flying brigades or escaping from those that were set up for him, his courage and his ability to impose discipline made his men as faithful as hound dogs to him. They felt safe with him, and fairly treated. Even though he never forced them to face any risk that he himself did not confront, he did not coddle them in the slightest. If they fell asleep on guard duty, lagged behind on a march, or stole from a comrade, he flogged them. If one of them retreated when he had given orders to stand and fight, he marked him with his initials or lopped off one of his ears. He administered all punishments himself, coldly. And he was also the one who castrated traitors.

Though they feared him, his men also seemed to love him, perhaps because Joao had never left a comrade behind after an armed encounter. The wounded were carried off to some hideout in a hammock litter suspended from a tree trunk even when such an operation exposed the band to danger. Joao himself took care of them, and, if necessary, had a male nurse brought to the hideout by force to attend to the victim. The dead were also removed from the scene of combat so as to bury them in a spot where their bodies would not be profaned by the Guardsmen or by birds of prey. This and the infallible intuition with which he led his men in combat, breaking them up into separate groups that ran every which way so as to confuse the adversary, while others circled round and fell upon the enemy's rear guard, or the ruses he came up with to break out when the band found itself encircled, enhanced his authority; he never found it difficult to recruit new members for his cangaco cangaco.

His subordinates were intrigued by this taciturn, withdrawn leader different from themselves. He wore the same sombrero and the same sandals as they, but did not share their fondness for brilliantine and perfume-the very first thing they pounced on in the stores-nor did he wear rings on every finger or cover his chest with medals. His knapsacks had fewer decorations than those of the rawest recruit. His one weakness was wandering cantadores cantadores, whom he never allowed his men to mistreat. He looked after their needs with great deference, asked them to recite something, and listened to them very gravely, never interrupting them in the middle of a story. Whenever he ran into the Gypsy's Circus he had them give a performance for him and sent them on their way with presents.

Someone once heard Satan Joao say that he had seen more people die from alcohol, which ruined men's aims and made them knife each other for stupid reasons, than from sickness or drought. As though to prove him right, the day that Captain Geraldo Macedo and his flying brigade surprised him, the entire cangaco cangaco was drunk. The captain, who had been nicknamed Bandit-Chaser, had come out into the backlands to hunt Joao down after the latter had attacked a committee from the Bahia Autonomist Party, which had just held a meeting with the Baron de Canabrava on his hacienda in Calumbi. Joao ambushed the committee, sent its bodyguards running in all directions, and relieved the politicians of valises, horses, clothing, and money. The baron himself sent a message to Captain Macedo offering him a special reward for the was drunk. The captain, who had been nicknamed Bandit-Chaser, had come out into the backlands to hunt Joao down after the latter had attacked a committee from the Bahia Autonomist Party, which had just held a meeting with the Baron de Canabrava on his hacienda in Calumbi. Joao ambushed the committee, sent its bodyguards running in all directions, and relieved the politicians of valises, horses, clothing, and money. The baron himself sent a message to Captain Macedo offering him a special reward for the cangaceiro cangaceiro's head.

It happened in Rosario, a town of half a hundred dwellings where Satan Joao's men turned up early one morning in February. A short time before, they had had a b.l.o.o.d.y encounter with a rival band, Pajeu's cangaco cangaco, and merely wanted to rest. The townspeople agreed to give them food, and Joao paid for what they consumed, as well as for all the blunderbusses, shotguns, gunpowder, and bullets that he had been able to lay his hands on. The people of Rosario invited the cangaceiros cangaceiros to stay on for the feast they would be having, two days later, to celebrate the marriage of a cowboy and the daughter of a townsman. The chapel had been decorated with flowers and the local men and women were wearing their best clothes that noon when Father Joaquim arrived from c.u.mbe to officiate at the wedding. The little priest was so terrified at finding to stay on for the feast they would be having, two days later, to celebrate the marriage of a cowboy and the daughter of a townsman. The chapel had been decorated with flowers and the local men and women were wearing their best clothes that noon when Father Joaquim arrived from c.u.mbe to officiate at the wedding. The little priest was so terrified at finding cangaceiros cangaceiros present that all of them burst out laughing as he stammered and stuttered and stumbled over his words. Before saying Ma.s.s, he heard confession from half the town, including several of the bandits. Then he attended the fireworks show and the open-air lunch, under an arbor, and drank toasts to the bride and groom along with the townspeople. But afterward he was so insistent on returning to c.u.mbe that Joao suddenly became suspicious. He forbade anyone to budge outside Rosario and he himself explored all the country round about, from the mountain side of the town to the one opposite, a bare plateau. He found no sign of danger. He returned to the wedding celebration, frowning. His men, drunk by now, were dancing and singing amid the townfolk. present that all of them burst out laughing as he stammered and stuttered and stumbled over his words. Before saying Ma.s.s, he heard confession from half the town, including several of the bandits. Then he attended the fireworks show and the open-air lunch, under an arbor, and drank toasts to the bride and groom along with the townspeople. But afterward he was so insistent on returning to c.u.mbe that Joao suddenly became suspicious. He forbade anyone to budge outside Rosario and he himself explored all the country round about, from the mountain side of the town to the one opposite, a bare plateau. He found no sign of danger. He returned to the wedding celebration, frowning. His men, drunk by now, were dancing and singing amid the townfolk.

Half an hour later, unable to bear the nervous tension, Father Joaquim confessed to him, trembling and sniveling, that Captain Macedo and his flying brigade were at the top of the mountain ridge, awaiting reinforcements so as to launch an attack. The priest had been ordered by Bandit-Chaser to delay Joao by using any trick he could think of. At that moment the first shots rang out from the direction of the plateau. They were surrounded. Amid all the confusion, Joao shouted to the cangaceiros cangaceiros to hold out as best they could till nightfall. But the bandits had had so much to drink that they couldn't even tell where the shots were coming from. They presented easy targets for the Guardsmen with their Comblains and fell to the ground bellowing, amid a hail of gunfire punctuated by the screams of the women running this way and that, trying to escape the crossfire. When night came, there were only four to hold out as best they could till nightfall. But the bandits had had so much to drink that they couldn't even tell where the shots were coming from. They presented easy targets for the Guardsmen with their Comblains and fell to the ground bellowing, amid a hail of gunfire punctuated by the screams of the women running this way and that, trying to escape the crossfire. When night came, there were only four cangaceiros cangaceiros still on their feet, and Joao, who was fighting with a bullet through his shoulder, fainted. His men wrapped him in a hammock litter and began climbing the mountain. Aided by a sudden torrential rain, they broke through the enemy encirclement. They took shelter in a cave, and four days later they entered Tepido, where a healer brought Joao's fever down and stanched his wound. They stayed there for two weeks, till Satan Joao was able to walk again. The night they left Tepido they learned that Captain Macedo had decapitated the corpses of their comrades who had been killed in Rosario and carried off the heads in a barrel, salted down like jerky. still on their feet, and Joao, who was fighting with a bullet through his shoulder, fainted. His men wrapped him in a hammock litter and began climbing the mountain. Aided by a sudden torrential rain, they broke through the enemy encirclement. They took shelter in a cave, and four days later they entered Tepido, where a healer brought Joao's fever down and stanched his wound. They stayed there for two weeks, till Satan Joao was able to walk again. The night they left Tepido they learned that Captain Macedo had decapitated the corpses of their comrades who had been killed in Rosario and carried off the heads in a barrel, salted down like jerky.

They plunged back into their daily round of violence, without thinking too much about their lucky stars or about the unlucky stars of the others. Once more they walked, stole, fought, hid out, their lives continually hanging by a thread. Satan Joao still had an indefinable feeling in his breast, the certainty that at any moment now something was going to happen that he had been waiting for ever since he could remember.

They came upon the hermitage, half fallen to ruins, along a turnoff of the trail leading to Cansancao. Standing before half a hundred people in rags and tatters, a tall, strikingly thin man, enveloped in a dark purple tunic, was speaking. He did not interrupt his peroration or even cast a glance at the newcomers. Joao had the dizzying feeling that something was boiling in his brain as he listened to what the saint was saying. He was telling the story of a sinner who, after having committed every evil deed under the sun, repented, lived a dog's life, won G.o.d's pardon, and went to heaven. When the man ended his story, he looked at the strangers. Without hesitating, he addressed Joao, who was standing there with his eyes lowered. "What is your name?" he asked him. "Satan Joao," the cangaceiro cangaceiro murmured. "You had best call yourself Abbot Joao, that is to say, an apostle of the Blessed Jesus," the hoa.r.s.e voice said. murmured. "You had best call yourself Abbot Joao, that is to say, an apostle of the Blessed Jesus," the hoa.r.s.e voice said.

Three days after having sent off the letter describing his visit to Brother Joao Evangelista de Monte Marciano to L'Etincelle de la revolte L'Etincelle de la revolte, Galileo Gall heard a knock on the door of the garret above the Livraria Catilina. The moment he set eyes on them, he knew the individuals were police underlings. They asked to see his papers, looked through his belongings, questioned him about his activities in Salvador. The following day the order expelling him from the country as an undesirable alien arrived. Old Jan van Rijsted pulled strings and Dr. Jose Batista de Sa Oliveira wrote to Governor Luiz Viana offering to be responsible for him, but the authorities obdurately notified Gall that he was to leave Brazil on the Ma.r.s.eillaise Ma.r.s.eillaise when it sailed for Europe a week later. He would be given, free of charge, a one-way ticket in third cla.s.s. Gall told his friends that being driven out of a country-or thrown in jail or killed-is one of the vicissitudes endured by every revolutionary and that he had been living the life of one almost since the day he'd been born. He was certain that the British consul, or the French or the Spanish one, was behind the expulsion order, but, he a.s.sured them, none of the police of these three countries would get their hands on him, since he would make himself scarce if the when it sailed for Europe a week later. He would be given, free of charge, a one-way ticket in third cla.s.s. Gall told his friends that being driven out of a country-or thrown in jail or killed-is one of the vicissitudes endured by every revolutionary and that he had been living the life of one almost since the day he'd been born. He was certain that the British consul, or the French or the Spanish one, was behind the expulsion order, but, he a.s.sured them, none of the police of these three countries would get their hands on him, since he would make himself scarce if the Ma.r.s.eillaise Ma.r.s.eillaise made calls in African ports or in Lisbon. He did not appear to be alarmed. made calls in African ports or in Lisbon. He did not appear to be alarmed.

Both Jan van Rijsted and Dr. Oliveira had heard him speak with enthusiasm of his visit to the Monastery of Our Lady of Mercy, but both of them were thunderstruck when he announced to them that since he was being thrown out of Brazil, he intended to make "a gesture on behalf of the brothers of Canudos" before departing, inviting people to attend a public demonstration of solidarity with them. He would call upon all freedom lovers in Bahia to gather together and explain to them why he had done so: "In Canudos a revolution is coming into being, by spontaneous germination, and it is the duty of progressive-minded men to support it." Jan van Rijsted and Dr. Oliveira did their best to dissuade him, telling him again and again that such a step was utter folly, but Gall nonetheless tried to get notice of the meeting published in the one opposition paper. His failure at the office of the Jornal de Noticias Jornal de Noticias did not dishearten him. He was pondering the possibility of having leaflets printed that he himself would hand out in the streets, when something happened that made him write: "At last! I was living too peaceful a life and beginning to become dull-spirited." did not dishearten him. He was pondering the possibility of having leaflets printed that he himself would hand out in the streets, when something happened that made him write: "At last! I was living too peaceful a life and beginning to become dull-spirited."

It happened two days before he was due to sail, as dusk was falling. Jan van Rijsted came into the garret, with his late-afternoon pipe in his hand, to tell him that two persons were downstairs asking for him. "They're capangas capangas," he warned him. Galileo knew that that was what men whom the powerful and the authorities used for underhanded business were called, and as a matter of fact the two of them did have a