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208 After a few days, however, purchasers were scarce, and embroidered handkerchiefs were offered in vain for four reales—there was nobody to buy. What had happened? Did the people repent? Not at all; but there was no longer any money in circulation. The contributions on one hand, sequestration on the other, the auction finally, had taken the last medio in the province. If indeed a few still remained in the hands of the officials, the gaming-table emptied their purses. Leather bags filled with money were piled in front of the general's house, and remained there all night unguarded; for the passers-by did not even dare to look at them.

And yet the city had not been abandoned to pillage, nor had the soldiers had that immense booty. Quiroga used to say to his friends in Buenos Ayres that he never permitted his men to pillage, because of the immorality of the thing. A farmer once complained to him that some soldiers had stolen his fruit, and ordering the regiment before him, he discovered the guilty ones, who each received six hundred lashes; the terrified old man begged that the victims might be spared, and was threatened with a share of the punishment. This is the gaucho nature: he kills because his leader commands him to kill, and does not steal because he is not commanded to steal. It might seem strange that these men should not rebel and throw off the dominion of one who gave them nothing in exchange for their valor or their lives, did we not know from Don Juan Manuel Rosas how much terror can do, not only with the poor gaucho, but with the illustrious general and the proud, wealthy citizen. As I have already said, terror produces greater results than patriotism.