You might think that it’s a bad strategy: it’d be better to leave everyone sleeping and the U.S. troops where they are. But the problem is that they think some of the men they’re seeking are with the soldiers; and they wouldn’t attack folks who are sleeping, just the ones who sleep with one eye open, ready for anything. The bells are intended to draw their enemies to them.
Nat awakens at the first peals. He calls to Santiago’s orphans (Melón, Dolores, and Dimas), who have been staying with him since they lost (literally) the roof over their heads. They go out into the street. They see what’s happening. They run to get the Lipans’ dagger, which remains well-hidden.
All four shout, “Viva Nepomuceno! Viva La Raza!” Though Nat is a gringo, he has caught the fever.
Father Rigoberto awakens, thinking the bells are ringing in his head. “The end of the world has come,” he thinks. He puts his head under the sheets and falls back into a deep sleep.
Rebecca, Sharp’s sister, hears the bells and listens to Sharp jumping out of bed, throwing his clothes on and running out of the house. Then she doesn’t hear anything else: she has one of her episodes; it seems like the night is brilliant, shining like the world is made of a huge sheet of thick, dark metal that undulates and shivers as though it’s about to break because a giant fist is pounding it somewhere far away.
The U.S. troops are alarmed by the sound of the bells. “What’s going on?” They realize they’ve been fooled, all gathered at the Lieders’, obeying General Cumin’s orders listlessly. They begin their retreat. A handful of men stay behind to guard the Lieders’ home; the family is grieving for Joe, whom they think they’ve lost.
Everyone is scratching from head to toe, eaten alive by mosquitoes.
It’s bad luck that Fragrance, General Cumin’s scout, isn’t with them. Things would have gone differently. Tracking, smelling the air — they would have understood what was going on.
The bells awaken Miss Lace but she doesn’t understand what has roused her and she feels startled and agitated by “a presence.”
She jumps out of bed in a panic. She’s certain that John Tanner, the White Indian, has arisen from the grave and has come to get her.
Joe Lieder hasn’t slept a wink. There’s only one Yamparik restraining him now — Metal Belly — who holds him firmly while he continues to ululate periodically to frighten the soldiers. As the hours have passed, their two bodies stuck together, Metal Belly has gotten a hard-on. At the same time, the one Joe had when he left the house returns.
Both erections are unwanted, but they level the playing field.
The U.S. troops and the makeshift group of volunteers (Rangers, citizens, gunslingers) enter Bruneville from the poor side of town. At the first corner they’re met with a blast of gunpowder from which they recoil. Next, a ream of Nepomuceno’s pamphlets rains down on them from a nearby rooftop, who knows who’s throwing them, you can’t see a thing, the sky is still overcast. They struggle to light the lamps the wind has extinguished.
In the center of the Market Square with the bullhorn (a new one, Stealman’s) from the barge in his hand, Nepomuceno begins to read the proclamation while the Kids’ Brigade goes from house to house distributing it.
All the town’s inhabitants have gathered thanks to the alarm bells, some carry buckets of water, ready to put out the (non-existent) fire, others are wrapped in their shawls and quilts to ward off the cold as best they can.
Everyone has a copy of the proclamation in their hands, some in English, others in Spanish.
(One confused gringo asks, “Is it the Blues versus the Reds?” A girl next to him answers in her sweet voice, “No, it’s the stinkin’ greasers!”)
Halfway through his proclamation the U.S. troops enter the square firing into the air — they don’t want to harm any civilians, “Watch out for the townspeople!”—by which they mean “the gringos,” not realizing that most of the Mexicans gathered here are Americans too.
No one returns fire, there’s not even a skirmish. The only shots are the ones La Plange takes — with his camera, his lamps, and the help of Snotty he’s doing his best to capture the moment.
The Coal Gang and the youngest Robin attack the U.S. troops from behind, starting a messy brawl, most of the soldiers are trapped between the townsfolk and the bandits, though a few manage to escape.
They lay down their weapons.
Frank, the Mexican run-speak-go-tell, is wandering around lost, wondering what’s going on — it’s unpleasant to wake up like this. “What’s going on? What’s happening?”
Metal Belly, the Yamparik who’s still holding Joe, is wondering the same thing, right before he ejaculates — he’s disgusted, he feels sick with himself. As soon as he does he heads toward Bruneville — someone else can look after the blond kid, let him rot!
In La Plange’s photo Nepomuceno is standing on the bandstand the gringos have started building in the town square, holding the proclamation in front of him, not bothering to pretend he’s reading because he knows it by heart (which is why the gringos claim that he’s illiterate).
The photo is taken in profile. He’s surrounded by Brunevillians, all wrapped in their blankets, with their frightened faces, and Mexicans, still high-spirited from their celebration. Later, Lázaro will sing:
Oh the poor gringos’ teeth
they chattered.
The cowards paralyzed by their fear.
I won’t mention Rigoberto,
the lily-livered priest.
He’d heard so much about hellfires
he hid ’tween the sheets.
Next Nepomuceno’s men go after the men on his list.
But first they have to find them.
Olga (even at a time like this she can’t resist running around spreading gossip) lets Nepomuceno’s men know: Shears is at the Smiths’ house, his wound still hasn’t healed.
They knock politely on the Smiths’ door, but as soon as the pretty Hasinai, Moonbeam, opens the door they barge rudely past her into the house while she struggles to keep them out.
They subdue her. Moonbeam smiles at them, which disarms Ludovico. He reaches toward her, “Moonbeam! My little sunbeam!”
Moonbeam is put out that “one of them” (today they’re ruffians) is talking to her this way. She pushes him away and runs into another room. Ludovico follows her, more playful than anything else. They run from room to room — back and forth across the patio — ending up in the room where a pallid Shears is resting; no sooner does he see shadows approaching than he shoots.
Moonbeam drops to the ground.
Shears drops his weapon. He shouts, “The greaser killed the Comaaaaanche!”
Ludovico falls to his knees and covers his face. He stays like that, frozen.
Dr. Schulz — medical case in hand — arrives immediately to attend to her.
“It’s too late. She’s dead. It was a crack shot.”
He glares furiously at Shears. There’s no question he’s the murderer.
Ludovico rises and leaves.
The sheriff points at him, shouting, “It was him!” He obviously doesn’t want to take the blame.
When she hears this, Caroline, the Smiths’ daughter — the one we know is in love with Nepomuceno — steps out of the wardrobe in the adjacent room, where her parents forced her to hide. She’s holding the cocked pistol they gave her to defend herself. She behaves like the madwoman she is. She runs over to Moonbeam’s body, waving the gun as if it were a fan — she’s out of control — then puts the gun to her temple and pulls the trigger.
There’s no question it’s a suicide, it couldn’t possibly be anything else. Dr. Schulz himself was a witness.