He does not long, however, remain the companion of peons. Eighteen hundred
and ten has come, bringing with it liberty, and bloodshed, and universal
discord. The sun of May beams down upon a desolated land. For the mild,
although repressive viceregal sway is substituted that of a swarm of
military chieftains, who, fighting as patriots against Liniers and his
ill-fated troops, as rivals with each other, or as _montanero_-freebooters
against all combined, swept the plains with their harrying lancers from
the seacoast to the base of the Cordillera.
In this period of anarchy we catch another glimpse of Juan Facundo. He has
worked his way down to Buenos Ayres, nine hundred miles from home, and
enlists in the regiment of _Arribenos_, raised by his countryman, General
Ocampo, to take part in the liberation of Chile. But even the
infinitesimal degree of discipline to which his fellow-soldiers had been
reduced was too much for his wild spirit; already he feels that command,
and not obedience, is his birthright; there is soon a vacancy in the
ranks.
With three companions Quiroga took to the desert. He was followed and
overtaken by an armed detachment, or _partida_; summoned to surrender; the
odds are overpowering. But this man bids defiance to the world; he is yet,
in this very region, to rout well-appointed and disciplined armies with a
handful of men; and he engages the _partida_.
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