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"
Salud
,
old
one
,
"
Robert
Jordan
said
.
He
was
looking
down
the
slope
now
.
"
Look
well
after
the
cropped
head
,
wilt
thou
?
"
"
There
is
no
problem
,
"
Agustín
said
.
"
Thou
has
what
thou
needest
?
"
"
There
are
very
few
shells
for
this
máquina
,
so
I
will
keep
it
,
"
Robert
Jordan
said
.
"
Thou
canst
now
get
more
.
For
that
other
and
the
one
of
Pablo
,
yes
.
"
"
I
cleaned
out
the
barrel
,
"
Agustín
said
.
"
Where
thou
plugged
it
in
the
dirt
with
the
fall
.
"
"
What
became
of
the
pack
-
horse
?
"
"
The
gypsy
caught
it
.
"
Agustín
was
on
the
horse
now
but
he
did
not
want
to
go
.
He
leaned
far
over
toward
the
tree
where
Robert
Jordan
lay
.
"
Go
on
,
viejo
,
"
Robert
Jordan
said
to
him
.
"
In
war
there
are
many
things
like
this
.
"
"
Qué
puta
es
la
guerra
,
"
Agustín
said
.
"
War
is
a
bitchery
.
"
