For Whom the Bell Tolls Read Online Free

and slapped the buckskin on the haunch. He leaned back against the ropes of the enclosure and watched the horses circle the corral, stood watching them a minute more, as they stood still, then leaned down and came out through the ropes.
    â€œThe sorrel is lame in the off hind foot,” he said to Pablo, not looking at him. “The hoof is split and although it might not get worse soon if shod properly, she could break down if she travels over much hard ground.”
    â€œThe hoof was like that when we took her,” Pablo said.
    â€œThe best horse that you have, the white-faced bay stallion, has a swelling on the upper part of the cannon bone that I do not like.”
    â€œIt is nothing,” said Pablo. “He knocked it three days ago. If it were to be anything it would have become so already.”
    He pulled back the tarpaulin and showed the saddles. There were two ordinary vaquero’s or herdsman’s saddles, like American stock saddles, one very ornate vaquero’s saddle, with hand-tooled leather and heavy, hooded stirrups, and two military saddles in black leather.
    â€œWe killed a pair of guardia civil, ” he said, explaining the military saddles.
    â€œThat is big game.”
    â€œThey had dismounted on the road between Segovia and Santa Maria del Real. They had dismounted to ask papers of the driver of a cart. We were able to kill them without injuring the horses.”
    â€œHave you killed many civil guards?” Robert Jordan asked.
    â€œSeveral,” Pablo said. “But only these two without injury to the horses.”
    â€œIt was Pablo who blew up the train at Arevalo,” Anselmo said. “That was Pablo.”
    â€œThere was a foreigner with us who made the explosion,” Pablo said. “Do you know him?”
    â€œWhat is he called?”
    â€œI do not remember. It was a very rare name.”
    â€œWhat did he look like?”
    â€œHe was fair, as you are, but not as tall and with large hands and a broken nose.”
    â€œKashkin,” Robert Jordan said. “That would be Kashkin.”
    â€œYes,” said Pablo. “It was a very rare name. Something like that. What has become of him?”
    â€œHe is dead since April.”
    â€œThat is what happens to everybody,” Pablo said, gloomily. “That is the way we will all finish.”
    â€œThat is the way all men end,” Anselmo said. “That is the way men have always ended. What is the matter with you, man? What hast thou in the stomach?”
    â€œThey are very strong,” Pablo said. It was as though he were talking to himself. He looked at the horses gloomily. “You do not realize how strong they are. I see them always stronger, always better armed. Always with more material. Here am I with horses like these. And what can I look forward to? To be hunted and to die. Nothing more.”
    â€œYou hunt as much as you are hunted,” Anselmo said.
    â€œNo,” said Pablo. “Not any more. And if we leave these mountains now, where can we go? Answer me that? Where now?”
    â€œIn Spain there are many mountains. There are the Sierra de Gredos if one leaves here.”
    â€œNot for me,” Pablo said. “I am tired of being hunted. Here we are all right. Now if you blow a bridge here, we will be hunted. If they know we are here and hunt for us with planes, they will find us. If they send Moors to hunt us out, they will find us and we must go. I am tired of all this. You hear?” He turned to Robert Jordan. “What right have you, a foreigner, to come to me and tell me what I must do?”
    â€œI have not told you anything you must do,” Robert Jordan said to him.
    â€œYou will though,” Pablo said. “There. There is the badness.”
    He pointed at the two heavy packs that they had lowered to theground while they had watched the horses. Seeing the horses had seemed to bring this all to a head in him and seeing that