“Fierro, you and I know that heroes on horseback were always more frequent in the Southern Pampas, one land with fluid boundaries encompassing Argentina, Uruguay and Southern Brazil, where people do not feel bounded by fancy international treaties.”

“Just as well, Sombra!”

“Perhaps, Fierro, and because the land and the people were one, poor economic policies on one side of the frontier would show on the other. People on both sides suffered equally.”

“Nowhere else to go?”

“Indeed, Fierro. This may be a bonus, because when people cannot run away from their problems they are forced to face them.”

“Now, Sombra, moving on is not running away.”

“Perhaps not, Fierro, but it amounts to the same. In any case, Southern Brazilian gauchos would not easily understand how famine could prevail among so many cattle.”

“Nor do I, Sombra! True gauchos would kill the cattle and eat it.”

“Well, they did, Fierro, but it was not their cattle; and with fewer cattle around, the saladeros could not meet the sales terms they had agreed to.”

“To hell with the saladeros, Sombra! Which side are you on?”

“The side doesn't matter, Fierro, at least not as much as the outcome, which is obvious to anyone who cares, as you do. There will be war and we are heading there. The Americans in San Francisco know it because Ambrose Bierce has telegraphed his paper; besides, he published an article in Buenos Aires's La Prensa. When the Brazilian Republican Julio de Castilhos wins elections for Governor in Brazil's southernmost state, Rio Grande do Sul, a revolution will start. One country could be made out of Uruguay and Rio Grande do Sul. It will not happen, but they will try.”

“I am liking it, Sombra; it was rather boring at the Cerrito de la Victoria.”

“Yes, the action is here, on the frontier, Fierro. The situation is so tense one can feel it in the air.”

“Tell me more, Sombra, what is coming?”

“Gumercindo and Aparício Saraiva were brothers, Fierro. Gumercindo being the eldest.”

“What were they, Sombra?”

“Landowners, but gauchos nonetheless.”

“Like your Fabio?”

“More like your own children, Fierro. Rougher than Fabio, but with land. They were frontiersmen, Fierro. Both spoke Spanish and Portuguese as well, or as badly, as it is humorously mentioned. Gumercindo lived this first thirty years in Uruguay, but persecutions led him to cross the border.”