you wipe your greasy fingers on his beard. Take no notice of what the
Mayordomo says, he also is afraid of you. If the authorities take you,
it will only be to see what you can give them: they will not keep you
long, for you are a foreigner, and cannot be made to serve in the army.
But when you are again at liberty it will be necessary for you to kill
someone." Very much amazed, I asked him why. "You see," he replied,
"your reputation as a fighter is now established in this department,
and there is nothing men envy more. It is the same as in our old game
of _pato,_ where the man that carries the duck away is pursued
by all the others, and before they give up chasing him he must prove
that he can keep what he has taken. There are several fighters you do
not know, who have resolved to pick quarrels with you in order to try
your strength. In your next fight you must not wound, but kill, or you
will have no peace." I was greatly disturbed at this result of my
accidental victory over Bias the Bearded, and did not at all appreciate
the kind of greatness my officious friend Claro seemed so determined
to thrust upon me. It was certainly flattering to hear that I had
already established my reputation as a good fighter in so warlike a
department as Paysandu, but then the consequences entailed were
disagreeable, to say the least of it; and so, while thanking Eyebrows
for his friendly hint, I resolved to quit the _estancia_ at once.
I would not run away from the authorities, since I was not an evil-doer,
but from the necessity of killing people for the sake of peace and
quietness I certainly would depart. And early next morning, to my
friend's intense disgust, and without telling my plans to anyone, I
mounted my horse and quitted Vagabond's Rest to pursue my adventures
elsewhere.