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The attack begins with five Yamparika Indians on the eastern edge of Bruneville, where the road is poor (there’s heavy traffic with Point Isabel, but only on the water); they’re slowed by the swamp with its clouds of mosquitoes (which carry awful tropical diseases) and assorted varmints. That’s why this side of Bruneville is unprotected, no one has given a thought to it. Even if the snakes and the gators were to take sides with Nepomuceno (they wouldn’t dare, the gringos would come and get them sooner or later), the landscape’s inhospitable conditions provide a natural defense.

Joe, the Lieders’ eldest son, has gone out to wander, as he does whenever he can, to escape from his parents and siblings, trying to go somewhere he can be alone for a while to masturbate: “I gotta feed my worm.” (“Ich muss meinen Wurm futtern.”) He tells his parents: “I’m gonna go see if the hen has laid an egg.”

The corral is far behind him, at his back, when he sticks his hand down his pants. He gets hard immediately. Joe rubs and rubs with plenty of saliva. His eyes roll back in ecstasy, only their whites are visible.

Two Yampariks appear out of nowhere and grab Joe by the wrists, making fun of him in their language. Joe resists.

Joe shouts. Two more Yampariks, hiding in position nearby, begin to ululate, running back and forth to make it seem like there are many of them. The fifth Yamparik rides his splendid horse back and forth (like an idiot, or perhaps he’s clever and he’s just acting), not far from the farm, on the only piece of land where his horse’s hooves won’t get stuck in the mud and caught in the weeds — though if he’s not careful the tarantulas will crawl up its legs.

The boy’s family are screaming their heads off: “They’re kidnapping Joe! They’re kidnapping Joe!” His youngest brother runs off to Bruneville to get help, thinking he’s going to rescue him.

The news spreads like wildfire across the brushland: the Apaches are attacking. “What if they’re in cahoots with the Mexicans?!” The question flies from mouth to mouth.

Joe’s brother has unwittingly aided the attackers. He’s done their work for them. Foolish simpleton.

All the armed men from the Bruneville fort head due east, to cover the unprotected side of the city.

This truly is a special day. The Mexicans have all left Bruneville for a fandango, which promises to be a really good party, in Matasánchez. They gathered on the dock to cross the river, boarding the barge — which Stealman has rechristened the Elizabeth IV—for Matasánchez.

“They should call it Chabelita now!”

“Don’t you think they should have called it Mrs. Lazy in her honor? It’s so slow and it’s always late …” Folks have been making this joke ever since the barge started crossing the river again.

Others take their own dinghies and rowboats to Matasánchez — it’s a national holiday. When the armed gringo soldiers — both the hired guns and the U.S. troops led by General Cumin — left to defend one side of the city, they did so because Bruneville was empty of greasers, who were all at the fandango on the other side.

On the other side of the Río Bravo, the Independence Day fireworks have begun to light up the sky in three colors: green, white, and red. Folks have begun shouting, “Viva Mexico!”

Dr. Velafuente is playing his part in the attack, getting Matasánchez’s mayor, De la Cerva y Tana (not near as despicable a mayor as Bruneville’s Mr. Chaste), good and drunk; he has to keep him nice and busy in case (as is likely) the gringos arrive to request reinforcements.

The shouts of Nepomuceno’s men (the majority of whom are not Indians) join with the ululations of the five Yampariks; they’ve found good hideouts and have taken up positions, taking advantage of the natural hidden dangers in the swamp.

The sea breeze blows in a huge cloud that seems endless. Goodbye moon. Now no one can see a thing.

The gringo troops lose a good horse when it stumbles into a hole in the ground and breaks a leg, and another has gotten bogged down in a quagmire; three men fall into another hole, a “typical Comanche trap”—or so they think, but there’s nothing Comanche about it — that the Two Eights made the camouflage in Laguna del Diablo — and there are ten more traps like it waiting with open jaws to swallow whomever they may.

The landscape is strewn with traps that the Mexicans and their allies have taken their time to carefully prepare — how many will they capture? — while the “ooo, ooo, ooo” of the Yampariks and the other Nepomucenistas continues in the distance, faking an attack. They’re just pulling the gringos’ legs.

Meanwhile, Joe, held tight by one of the savages, sees the world fall into darkness, which covers everything. He wants to cry. “This is what I get for wanting to live with the Apaches, what was I thinking!”

Before midnight, the second and third waves of Nepomuceno’s advance on Bruneville arrive.

Jones and Juan Caballo, one of the two Seminole-Mascogo chiefs, are their leaders, under Nepomuceno’s command.

Most of Nepomuceno’s followers arrive among the Mexicans from Bruneville who are returning from the party: some take the barge, others take the rowboats or skiffs of folks who aren’t returning tonight because they’re staying the night in Matasánchez, or who lend them their boats just because.

The barge and its tug are under the command of the so-called “mermen,” despite the fact they now belong to Stealman. The Two Eights know how to maneuver them well.

(The Two Eights are overjoyed to see the barge where old Arnoldo trained and raised them …)

They all arrive at the dock next to Mrs. Big’s Hotel in Bruneville; they being:

1The Mexicans who are returning from the fandango, and who have had a great time. They’re in no state to shoot or to fight; the ones who still have energy just want to make love and continue drinking. They’re good people. And they’re good cover for Nepomuceno’s men.

2Nepomuceno himself, with Óscar, Juan Prensa the printer, Jones, and

3Juan Caballo at his side, along with a few others.

4El Iluminado with his Talking Cross and some of his followers, almost all of them armed men — including a few outlaws. Next to him, Padre Vera, who didn’t want to be left out. One, Two, and Three are with Robert, the escaped slave.

5Well-armed Mascogos, Negroes, and Indians, ready to fight.

6La Desconocida.

7Sandy, who’s returning after a two-week absence.

8The Negress Pepementia.

9One of the dreaded Robins, along with a bunch of thugs from the Coal Gang.

1 °Connecticut and El Loco.

11Pepe the bootblack (with his shoeshine box) and Goyo the barber (with his knives, hidden in the bootblack’s box).

12Dr. Schulz, his medicine case in hand. Nepomuceno gave him a black mask that covers his face without obscuring his vision, to protect his identity.

13Some young, frenzied Mexicans who have been furious ever since the American invasion (Nepomuceno tried to keep them from joining up, but despite being barred from the camp they took advantage of being in Matasánchez to sneak in and join forces).

14The Kids’ Brigade, all well-organized.

15A variety of Indians, all from north of the Río Bravo, the majority of whom have been forced south of the Nueces River by the gringos (but not one Comanche, despite best efforts).

16Various others whom we don’t know …

The folks who aren’t there, to avoid arousing suspicion, are:

1The pigeon keepers and anyone who’s been helping them out on the sly, such as Sid Cherem and Alitas, Carlos, Hector, pretty Teresa — only Sandy has joined the invasion — so as not to imperil their fragile network.