One Hundred Years of Solitude

the corner, pushing their way
through, and then they saw
him. He looked like a beggar.
His clothing was torn, his hair
and beard were tangled, and
he was barefoot. He was
walking without feeling the
burning dust, his hands tied
behind his back with a rope
that a mounted officer had
attached to the head of his
horse. Along with him, also
ragged and defeated, they
were bringing Colonel