“Two hours later, in the school building, Rosauro woke everyone up and, helped by the Ruiz brothers, organized work groups to search for formulas to resolve the conflict. In addition to the salary raise, they would ask for greater security on the job — there were many accidents, and many miners, a few children among them, had been blown to bits by dynamite — and better hygienic conditions: the saltpeter powder affected the workers’ lungs, and they received no medical assistance. Their miserable living quarters were infested with fleas and lice.
“But while the head was lucubrating, the body was giving itself over to drunkenness. So that the workers wouldn’t forget what the goal of the struggle was during the heat of the party, Rosauro suggested that Seraphim, Almo, and I visit the Sporting Club. But we were to do so covertly: to keep the reprisals of the bosses from falling on the child, his messianic nature had been kept secret. When the multitude marched down the hills in exemplary obedience, it repressed any shout that might have revealed the marvelous secret. The Yeco united them with a silence more powerful than ten thousand inflammatory speeches. Even though the streets were filled with police, they didn’t stop us. For a second, their faces would turn toward us with interest and immediately turn away indifferently, as if they’d only seen three skeletal street dogs walk by.
“At the hippodrome, the drunken party was in full swing. The bodies were shaking, extracting unsuspected energy from the depth of exhaustion. The Coquimbo sisters, with booming voices unthinkable in their delicate throats, were singing verses stronger than cavalry charges. In corners, people were vomiting and fornicating. Seraphim, seeing the multitude completely out of control, began to stutter: ‘Wait a bit, Teresa. What are we going to do here? These drunks will never take any notice of us. Besides, we’ve already carried out our mission. The strike is victorious. Let’s leave right away!’
“And dominated by his timidity, he took hold of me as if to protect me and tried to walk out. But a couple interrupted their hip-shaking and ran toward us murmuring, ‘The Holy Family. Blessed be you.’ They kissed the blanket wrapped around the baby, and immediately, with sincere respect, invited us to begin a walk around the racetrack. Other workers surrounded us with such fervor that we couldn’t say no. As we passed, the couples would stop dancing; join hands as if they were praying; and whisper, obeying the rule of keeping the secret: ‘Thanks, Little God.’
“But no sooner had we passed than they went back to dancing frenetically. We had the feeling we were carrying an island of peace through a stormy sea. It took us much more than an hour to walk the entire course. The concealed veneration of those thousands of poor Chileans filled us with a limitless optimism, satisfying our primordial needs for security, love, integration, and social recognition. For once, ‘we’ was much more important than ‘I.’ I felt that roots were bursting out of the soles of my feet. This land had become mine.
“Seraphim said, ‘After this, it doesn’t matter to me if I die. These people love and respect me; what more can I ask of life? I never dreamed I would attain so much. I owe it all to you.’
“I answered by giving him a long kiss, and we returned to the school, where we realized that it wasn’t called Santa María by accident. Rosauro and the comrades thanked us for our sacrifice, and since we were worn out by the long march, they gave us the director’s office so we could sleep in his comfortable armchairs.
The enormous orgy lasted all night. Just at dawn, silence once again reigned. All Iquique slept until two o’clock on Monday. The people’s deep sleep was interrupted by a long, hoarse blast from a foghorn. It was the warship carrying the chief administrator. We ran in a mob to the dock and lined the seawall. The army followed us like a gray shadow. Three hundred sailors armed with polished rifles disembarked from the ship to form a double column through which Tomás Eastman soon made his way.
“He was a thin, dried-out old man dressed in black. Taking small steps, he walked toward the administration without raising his eyes from the sepia puttees adorning his honor guard. We crowded together under the principal balcony with a knot in our throats, nervous about the cannon pointed at us from the ship. Eastman came out onto the balcony and spoke only one sentence before going back in: ‘I carry official instructions from the government to resolve the conflict. Go back to the pampa.’ A jubilant din drowned out the noise of the waves. The workers considered their participation in the strike over, and now it was up to the leaders to negotiate the best conditions. Accordingly, they headed for an esplanade where the train track passed.
“We then heard train whistles, and two locomotives pulling a long line of flat cars arrived. The miners and their families crowded onto them. They looked like herds of animals. After this train pulled out, many more pulled in. The mining company had organized an efficient but undignified transportation system. The group of two thousand workers possessed of social awareness ran to the hill called La Cruz, which overlooked the esplanade, and from there, waving flags, they shouted, ‘We aren’t sheep to travel this way! Don’t leave, comrades! Nothing has been decided yet!’ But no one paid them any attention.
“No sooner had the last train pulled out, than the army, announcing a state of siege, herded the rest of the revolutionaries toward the Santa María school. Rosauro told everyone to obey, that nothing had been lost, and we shouldn’t give the authorities any reason for justifying the use of force. As soon as we entered the school, the military surrounded the building. The combined force of soldiers, sailors, and police was about eight hundred men. Not content with simply pointing their rifles and machine guns at us, they brought in a cannon and placed it opposite the main door.
“‘Victory, brothers!’ shouted the Indian. ‘If they’re waving around so many weapons, it’s because they’re afraid of us. And what do they fear, since they know we are unarmed? They fear our spirit! Perhaps some spy told them about the Yeco. That makes me happy because now the great moment has arrived. The prediction, which until now has been accurate at every stage, says that at the feet of the Sent One all armies will fall to their knees. If we send Don Seraphim and Doña Teresa so they show the child to the troops, the Yeco will shine like a sun, appearing in all his majesty. Seeing him, a colonel mounted on his white horse will fall as if struck by lightning. And the regular soldiers, realizing we are brothers, will turn their weapons against the exploiters.’
“At that very moment, a trumpet sounded. We went to the windows and saw a colonel mounted on a white horse arrive. With a castrato’s voice he shouted to us: ‘This is Colonel Roberto Silva Bernard speaking. I order you here and now to evacuate this school in order for you to be transferred to the hippodrome. There you will be sentenced for insurrection. You have five minutes to leave. If you disobey, I will order my men to fire.’