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Chapter 43

           ThenPablostuffedthreehobbleshehadinhishandintoasaddlebag,stoodupandsaid,"Quétal,woman?"andsheonlynodded,andthentheywereallmounting.

           RobertJordanwasonthebiggrayhehadfirstseeninthesnowofthemorningofthedaybeforeandhefeltthatitwasmuchhorsebetweenhislegsandunderhishands.Hewaswearingrope-soledshoesandthestirrupswerealittletooshort;hissubmachinegunwasslungoverhisshoulder,hispocketswerefullofclipsandhewassittingreloadingtheoneusedclip,thereinsunderonearm,tight,watchingPilarmountintoastrangesortofseatontopofthedufflelashedontothesaddleofthebuckskin.

           "CutthatstufflooseforGod’ssake,"Primitivosaid."Thouwiltfallandthehorsecannotcarryit."

           "Shutup,"saidPilar."Wegotomakealifewiththis."

           "Canstridelikethat,woman?"Pabloaskedherfromtheguardiacivilsaddleonthegreatbayhorse.

           "Likeanymilkpeddler,"Pilartoldhim."Howdoyougo,oldone?"

           "Straightdown.Acrosstheroad.Upthefarslopeandintothetimberwhereitnarrows."

           "Acrosstheroad?"Agustínwheeledbesidehim,kickinghissoft-heeled,canvasshoesagainstthestiff,unrespondingbellyofoneofthehorsesPablohadrecruitedinthenight.

           "Yes,man.Itistheonlyway,"Pablosaid.Hehandedhimoneoftheleadropes.Primitivoandthegypsyhadtheothers.

           "Thoucanstcomeattheendifthouwill,Inglés,"Pablosaid."Wecrosshighenoughtobeoutofrangeofthatmáquina.

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