In the proximities of Dos Rios, an ardent mist announced that the minutes to arrive would be tragic.
Like thunders, firings went and came from one side to another. They did not have name nor last names, just a single mortal load; one of them tore the neck of the slight man who, immense in ideas, had not thought it twice to bring himself into battle.All of the sudden, a second firing reached its leg. He could not hold on to the mount and, with the enemy almost within reach, he collapsed.
Dark clouds covered that piece of sky; time stopped. Other treacherous flashes completely broke the physical existence of the man who, just some days before, in Rancho Tavera, had been promoted to Major General of the Liberation Army.
Astonished, mambises and Spaniards, could not believe it. One of the worthiest Cubans left his blood and his life in the battlefield.
Marti has been killed! The news was scattered like the wind, tears were multiplied even in the toughest faces; pain flooded the nation.
Vuelta Grande, his last camp, predicted that something fatal could happen. And it was there, in Dos Rios, where the Apostle cease to exist that May 19th, of 1895.
Dos Rios marked his departure to eternity.