Once upon a time there lived a girl who was so smart that she was known throughout Puerto Rico as Maria Sabida. Maria Sabida came into the world with her eyes open. They say that at the moment of her birth she spoke to the attending midwife and told her what herbs to use to make a special guarapo, a tea that would put her mother back on her feet immediately. They say that the two women would have thought the infant was possessed if Maria Sabida had not convinced them with her descriptions of life in heaven that she was touched by God and not spawned by the Devil.

Maria Sabida grew up in the days when the King of Spain owned Puerto Rico, but had forgotten to send law and justice to this little island lost on the map of the world. And so thieves and murderers roamed the land terrorizing the poor people. By the time Maria Sabida was of marriageable age, one such ladron had taken over the district where she lived.

For years people had been subjected to abuse from this evil man and his henchmen. He robbed them of their cattle and then made them buy their own cows back from him. He would take their best chickens and produce when he came into town on Saturday afternoons riding with his men through the stalls set up by farmers. Overturning their tables, he would yell, "Put it on my account." But of course he never paid for anything he took. One year several little children disappeared while walking to the river, and although the townspeople searched and searched, no trace of them was ever found. That is when Maria Sabida entered the picture. She was fifteen then, and a beautiful girl with the courage of a man, they say.

She watched the chief ladron the next time he rampaged through the pueblo. She saw that he was a young man: red-skinned, and tough as leather. Cuero y sangre, nada mas, she said to herself, a man of flesh and blood. And so she prepared herself to either conquer or to kill this man.

Maria Sabida followed the horses' trail deep into the woods. Though she left the town far behind she never felt afraid or lost. Maria Sabida could read the sun, the moon, and the stars for direction. When she got hungry, she knew which fruits were good to eat, which roots and leaves were poisonous, and how to follow the footprints of animals to a waterhole. At nightfall, Maria Sabida came to the edge of a clearinng where a large house, almost like a fortress, stood in the forest.

"No woman has ever set foot in that house," she thought, "no casa is this, but a man-place." It was a house built for violence, with no windows on the ground level, but there were turrets on the roof where men could stand guard with guns. She waited until it was nearly dark and approached the house through the kitchen side. She found it by smell.

In the kitchen which she knew would have to have a door or window for ventilation, she saw an old man stirring a huge pot. Out of the pot stuck little arms and legs. Angered by the sight, Maria Sabida entered the kitchen, pushed the old man aside, and picking up the pot threw its horrible contents out of the window.

"Witch, witch, what have you done with my master's stew!" yelled the old man. "He will kill us both when he gets home and finds his dinner spoiled."

"Get, you filthy viejo." Maria Sabida grabbed the old man's beard and pulled him to his feet. "Your master will have the best dinner of his life if you follow my instructions."

Maria Sabida then proceeded to make the most delicious asopao the old man had ever tasted, but she would answer no questions about herself, except to say that she was his masters fiance.

When the meal was done, Maria Sabida stretched and yawned and said that she would go upstairs and rest until her prometido came home. The she went upstairs and waited.

The men came home and ate ravenously of the food Maria Sabida had cooked. When the chief ladron praised the old man for a fine meal, the cook admitted that it had been la prometida who had made the tasty chicken stew.

"My what?" the leader roared, "I have no prometida." And he and his men ran upstairs. But there were many floors, and by the time they were halfway to the room where Maria Sabida waited, many of the men had dropped down unconscious and the others had slowed down to a crawl until they too were overcome with irresistable sleepiness. Only the chief ladron made it to where Maria Sabida waited for him holding a paddle that she had found among his weapons. Fighting to keep his eyes open, he asked her, "Who are you, and why have you poisoned me?"

"I am your future wife, Maria Sabida, and you are not poisoned, I added a special sleeping powder that tastes like oregano to your asopao. You will not die."

"Witch!" yelled the chief ladron "I will kill you. Don't you know who I am?" And reaching for her, he fell on his knees, whereupon Maria Sabida beat him with the paddle until he lay curled like a child on the floor. Each time he tried to attack her, she beat him some more. When she was satisfied that he was vanquished, Maria Sabida left the house and went back to town.

A week later, the chief ladron rode into town with his men again. By then everyone knew what Maria Sabida had done and they were afraid of what these evil men would do in retribution. "Why did you not just kill him when you had a chance, muchacha?" many of the townswomen had asked Maria Sabida. But she had just answered mysteriously, "It is better to conquer than to kill." The townspeople then barricaded themselves behind closed doors when they heard the pounding of the thieves' horses approaching. But the gang did not stop until they arrived at Maria Sabida's house. There the men, instead of guns, brought out musical instruments: a cuatro, a guiro, maracas, and a harmonica. They they played a lovely melody.

"Maria Sabida, Maria Sabida, my strong and wise Maria," called out the leader, sitting tall on his horse under Maria Sabida's window, "come out and listen to a song I've written for you--I call it The Ballad of Maria Sabida."

Maria Sabida then appeared on her balcony wearing a wedding dress. The chief ladron sang his song to her: a lively tune about a woman who had the courage of a man and the wisdom of a judge, who had conquered the heart of the best bandido on the island of Puerto Rico. He had a strong voice and all the people cowering in their locked houses heard his tribute to Maria Sabida and crossed themselves at the miracle she had wrought.

One by one they all came out and soon Maria Sabida's front yard was full of people singing and dancing. The ladrones had come prepared with casks of wine, bottles of rum, and a wedding cake made by the old cook from the tender meat of coconuts. The leader of the thieves and Maria Sabida were married on that day. But all had not yet been settled between them. That evening, as she rode behind him on his horse, she felt the dagger concealed beneath his clothes. She knew then that she had not fully won the battle for this man's heart.

On her wedding night Maria Sabida suspected that her husband wanted to kill her. After their dinner, which the man had insisted on cooking himself, they went upstairs. Maria Sabida asked for a little time alone to prepare herself. He said he would take a walk but would return very soon. When she heard him leave the house, Maria Sabida went down to the kitchen and took several gallons of honey from the pantry. She went back to the bedroom and there she fashioned a life-sized doll out of her clothes and poured the honey into it. She then blew out the candle, covered the figure with a sheet and hid herself under the bed.

After a short time, she heard her husband climbing the stairs. He tip-toed into the dark room thinking her asleep in their marriage bed. Peeking out from under the bed, Maria Sabida saw the glint of the knife her husband pulled out from inside his shirt. Like a fierce panther he leapt onto the bed and stabbed the doll's body over and over with his dagger. Honey splattered his face and fell on his lips. Shocked, the man jumped off the bed and licked his lips.

"How sweet is my wife's blood. How sweet is Maria Sabida in death--how sour in life and how sweet in death. If I had known she was so sweet, I would not have murdered her." And so declaring, he kneeled down on the floor beside the bed and prayed to Maria Sabida's soul for forgiveness.

At that moment Maria Sabida came out of her hiding place. "Husband, I have tricked you once more, I am not dead." In his joy, the man threw down his knife and embraced Maria Sabida, swearing that he would never kill or steal again. And he kept his word, becoming in later years an honest farmer. Many years later he was elected mayor of the same town he had once terrorized with his gang of ladrones.

Maria Sabida made a real casa out of his thieves' den, and they had many children together, all of whom could speak at birth. But, they say, Maria Sabida always slept with one eye open, and that is why she lived to be one hundred years old and wiser than any other woman on the Island of Puerto Rico, and her name was known even in Spain.